Chapter 12

12

Friday

J udge Macomber’s deputy clerk was waiting just inside the courtroom doors when Sasha and Ellie entered the room.

“Hi, Charlie.”

“Sasha. And I take it this young woman is Eleanor Prescott?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Ellie offered her hand with a confident, easy smile and no trace of nerves.

Sasha felt like a proud parent. Evidently, noodles and a three-hour-long biopic about an obscure sculptor had worked like a charm.

Charlene ‘Charlie’ Rush gave Ellie a quick handshake before turning her attention back to Sasha and getting down to business.

“The Judge wants to see you and opposing counsel in chambers as soon as Mr. Simmons gets here.”

Sasha nodded, unsurprised. She’d have been surprised if Judge Macomber hadn’t pushed for a settlement. As Sasha understood it, the monopoly case on the judge’s docket involved fourteen regional trucking companies as defendants and was a multi-district morass. She didn’t have time for what was likely to be a morass of another kind—one with novel legal theories bordering on the frivolous, a plaintiff with a worldview bordering on the fantastical, and a counterclaim whose merits had already been decided by a small claims court. Not only was Sasha not surprised by this turn of events, she was counting on it.

But all she said was, “Understood.”

Gray Simmons arrived a few minutes later, his tie askew and his unbuttoned suit jacket flapping as he burst through the door. “Am I late?” he panted. “That marshal at the security checkpoint—Toland—targeted me for a full-body search.”

Sasha and Ellie hid their grins with varying levels of success. Charlie just shook her head and gestured for the attorneys to follow her. Simmons gave Sasha a look that was equal parts bewildered and pleading.

She took pity on him and explained, “The judge wants to see us in chambers. I assume to explore settlement.”

He nodded unhappily and straightened his tie while they trailed the deputy clerk to the door to the judge’s chambers.

Judge Kathleen Macomber sat behind her burnished desk, her black judicial robes hanging neatly behind her from an antique coat rack. A handheld steamer sat on the windowsill beside it.

“Counselors, let’s sit.”

She stood up and walked over to the oval table that stood in front of a wall of books and gestured for them to follow her. They did, and then they waited for her to sit before pulling out chairs and joining her at the table.

Once they were seated, Charlie, who was hovering behind the judge, leaned forward. “Do you want this to be on the record, Your Honor? Should I get Valerie?”

Judge Macomber shook her head. “No. We’re all set here, Charlie.”

The deputy clerk nodded and slipped out of the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

As soon as Charlie left, the judge ran her hand over her close-cropped white-blonde hair and eyed the lawyers from behind her red-framed glasses and sighed. “Why are we here, people? If ever there was a case that should have been settled right out of the gate, it’s this one.”

Ellie opened her mouth and Sasha placed a hand on her arm without glancing in her direction. The associate pressed her lips together, the message received: this was Gray Simmons’ party, let him do the talking.

Simmons cleared his throat. “Your Honor, counsel for the parties met yesterday for the requisite meet and confer. Unfortunately, we were unable to resolve our differences. I’m afraid we need the court to rule on this complicated issue. Mr. Steinfeld’s contract doesn’t specify which forms of payment are and are not acceptable. As contracts are construed against the drafter, that silence should not be used to bully my client into paying with a method other than the one of his choosing.”

Sasha watched for the flash of irritation in the judge’s dark brown eyes. Once she saw it, she leaned forward.

“If I may, Your Honor?”

The judge waved her hand in a circle. “You may.”

“What counsel says is fair enough. So the defendant/counter-plaintiff is willing to drop his claim and void the default judgment entered by the small claims court on one condition.”

“Which is?”

“We request that Mr. Simmons provide the court with one of two documents for an in camera review. One, a client agreement between John Boone and Mr. Simmons on behalf of the Sinclair Law Group showing that the law firm specified which forms of payment were and were not acceptable for their services. Or, two, if he cannot provide such an agreement, evidence that Mr. Boone paid Mr. Simmons’ fee using a negotiable redemption note or some other form of ‘payment’ that was not U.S. currency, a check written from a federally insured bank or credit union, or a charge to a credit card issued by such a bank or credit union or other regulated lending institution.”

The judge pushed out her lower lip and nodded as if she found this request to be reasonable.

Gray Simmons, on the other hand, sputtered in outrage. “This is ridiculous. My financial arrangement with my client is protected by privilege!”

Ellie coughed delicately. “While it’s true that there is limited case law holding that billing records for ongoing legal matters are privileged, that privilege is not absolute. Here, we’re only asking for the method of payment set forth in the billing agreement or evidence of payment, not the detailed bills themselves. And, moreover, we aren’t even asking to see this information, only for the court to review it.”

The judge turned toward Simmons. “I tend to agree with Ms. Prescott, counselor.”

“But, it’s not even remotely relevant,” he said, taking another swing.

“Oh, it’s entirely relevant,” Sasha corrected him. “Mr. Simmons’ argument is that negotiable redemption notes are a legitimate form of payment. If he himself doesn’t accept this instrument as payment for his services, then his argument wasn’t made in good faith. So in addition to the remedies set forth in our counterclaim, we’ll be bringing this to the attention of the disciplinary board.”

“Ball’s in your court, Mr. Simmons,” the judge told him.

Gray Simmons’ face turned first red, then gray. He bit down hard on his lip for a long moment. Finally, from between clenched teeth, he gritted, “We’ll drop our complaint.”

“I believe you mean you’ll drop your complaint, and Mr. Boone will remit payment for Mr. Steinfeld’s services via cash, wire deposit, or a cashier’s check in the amount of the original bill plus any interest charges, late fees, and the costs of bringing his suit in small claims court and before this court,” Judge Macomber said in a firm voice.

“That’s what I mean,” Simmons choked.

“I thought as much. Very good. And Mr. Simmons?”

“Yes, Your Honor?”

The judge pressed her hands against the table, and Sasha noted that her bright red nail polish exactly matched her glasses. She leaned over the table and stared at Simmons. “This court does not expect to ever again see you make this argument or one like it in a federal court. And the court strongly advises you not to make it in a state court, either.”

Simmons bobbed his head. “I understand, Your Honor.”

“Very good. Now, all of you, get out of my chambers. I have real work to do.”

“How did you know he’d go for it?” Ellie whispered as they lingered in the hallway, waiting for Simmons to leave first.

“I watched him pay for his coffee at Jake’s yesterday with a ten-dollar bill. And it clicked. Simmons knows what real money is. He’s not a true believer, and there’s no way his law firm would let him accept some bogus negotiable instrument as payment.”

“Logically, sure. But isn’t possible he did for just one case agree to it? You broke the cardinal rule. You asked a question you didn’t know the answer to.”

“Yes and no. He wasn’t on the stand. Besides, I checked the divorce decree you found. The ex-Mrs. Simmons receives her spousal support in U.S. tender, so I had a strong basis to believe that’s what Gray uses, too. It was a small risk for a big potential payoff.”

Ellie nodded. “And it worked.”

“And it worked.”

The door to Judge Macomber’s outer office opened and Charlie poked her head out into the hallway. “Sasha, a word? Just you.”

Sasha turned to Ellie. “Why don’t you head over to Daniel’s studio and tell him the good news in person? I’ll see you back at the office.”

“I can tell the client we won?”

“Absolutely. Your research was instrumental, after all.”

Ellie floated down the hallway toward the elevators wearing a wide grin.

“She’s a fine young attorney, from everything I’ve heard,” Charlie said as they watched her go.

“She is,” Sasha agreed. Then she drew her eyebrows together. “What’s up?” She silently prayed the judge wasn’t about to appoint her to some dog of a case.

Instead of answering, Charlie jerked her head toward the office. Sasha managed not to sigh as she walked inside and the deputy clerk closed the door behind her. Charlie led her back to the room she’d just left and gestured for her to go inside the judge’s chambers.

But instead of the Honorable Kathleen Macomber, Connelly sat at the oval table. He was flanked by the two men who’d attacked them in the alley.