Chapter 8
THE JUDGE WAS late for the emergency hearing she had scheduled.
We—the attorneys—waited silently at our tables.
I had nothing to say to the Masons and they had nothing to say to me.
I had informed my client of the hearing but she was unable to get away from her job at the lab on short notice.
And so I sat alone. In the first row of the gallery, there were three reporters, one print and two TV, all of whom had gotten an anonymous tip about the hearing from Lorna.
This allowed me to be insulated from any accusation of setting in motion a news flash unfavorable to the defense.
McEvoy had stepped away from his work in the cage to watch from the back row, where he sat next to Cisco.
“All right,” the judge said. “We’re back on the record in Randolph versus Tidalwaiv, and we have a motion from the defense to stay my ruling of this morning. Misters Mason, would one of you state your argument for a stay?”
Marcus went toward the lectern, but before he got there, I stood up.
“Your Honor, could I be heard?” I said. “I believe I have information that has significant impact on this hearing and the motion from the defense.”
Ruhlin looked at me for a long moment, showing a flash of annoyance, before responding.
“Very well, Mr. Haller,” she said. “You shall be heard.”
I moved to the lectern, forcing Marcus Mason to step back to his table. I gave him a wink from the eye the judge couldn’t see. He stayed standing, ready to object to whatever I was about to say.
“Thank you, Your Honor,” I said. “And good afternoon. Unfortunately, I have rather disturbing and sad news to deliver to the court. It appears that on the very morning that the court ruled that Rikki Patel could serve as a witness in this trial, his life was cut short. His death is the subject of a homicide investigation being conducted by the Los Angeles—”
“Objection!” Marcus Mason called out.
“—Police Department,” I continued. “There is no need for this hearing, Judge, because my key witness has died under highly suspicious circumstances. The outcome—”
“Objection!” Marcus shrieked again.
“—of the investigation will undoubtedly shed light on the lengths that Tidal—”
“Okay, stop,” Ruhlin said. “Everyone, just hold on.”
She signaled her clerk to the side of the bench. Ruhlin rolled her chair over and whispered to him. He then left the courtroom through the door to chambers and Ruhlin rolled back into position.
“Okay, we’re going to move to chambers to discuss this further,” she said.
“Your Honor, I object to that,” I said. “This is a serious matter and it should be discussed in public.”
“Your Honor,” Marcus Mason said, “plaintiff’s counsel is once again looking to air outrageous claims to the assembled media in hopes that he will taint the—”
“Enough!” Ruhlin boomed from the bench. “Both of you. Enough. My clerk is just clearing documents from another case from view in chambers and then we will convene there to continue this. Andrew will bring you in when we’re ready.”
With that, she left the bench and went through the door to her chambers.
Marcus Mason immediately moved toward me at the lectern and whispered forcefully. “This is bullshit,” he said. “And you’re bullshit.”
“Sure, Marcus,” I said. “Whatever you say.”
“What happened with Patel has nothing to do with this case!”
“Yeah? I hope you can convince a jury of that.”
I left him there and went back to my table, but before I could sit down, one of the reporters, a TV guy who had been around for decades, jumping from station to station in the local market, stood up at the rail and signaled to me.
“Is what you just said true?” he asked. “There’s a murder of a witness?”
“I didn’t use the word murder,” I said. “And I would never lie to a federal judge.”
I turned back to my table and saw Andrew, the clerk, standing at the door that led to the judge’s chambers.
“The judge will see you now,” he said.
The Masons were already on the move. I fell in behind them and we wound our way through the clerk’s corral and through the door into a short hallway that led to Judge Ruhlin’s private chambers.
The judge was seated at a round table in front of a floor-to-ceiling wall of shelves containing leather-bound copies of US codes and laws.
The volumes were strictly decor, since everything could easily be found and read online.
In the corner behind her, the court stenographer sat poised to record the in camera session.
“Gentlemen, sit down,” she ordered. “Mr. Haller, I want you in that seat.”
She pointed to the chair directly across the table from her. She would be flanked by the Masons, but her eyes would be on me.
“We are still on the record,” Ruhlin said. “But now that we are out of earshot of the media, there is no need for posturing or playing to the audience. Mr. Haller, tell us what you know and how you know it.”
I cleared my throat to gain a couple extra seconds to compose a response.
“Your Honor,” I began, “I received your ruling on the motion regarding Mr. Patel this morning by email, as I am sure defense counsel did as well. It was my guess that defense counsel and Tidalwaiv would appeal the ruling and seek a stay preventing me from taking Mr. Patel’s deposition.
It has been clear from the start that they did not want me talking to this man, because he knew of the company’s malfeasance and—”
“Mr. Haller,” Ruhlin interrupted, “I said no posturing. Tell me what you know and how you came to know it.”
“Yes, Your Honor,” I said. “So, knowing what their move was likely to be, and in an effort to beat the filing of that appeal, my investigator, Dennis Wojciechowski—do you want me to spell his name?”
“Not necessary,” Ruhlin said. “We have it. Go on.”
“Cisco and I went to Mr. Patel’s—”
“Wait, who is Cisco?” Ruhlin asked.
“Sorry, Cisco is Dennis,” I said. “It’s his nickname. Anyway, Dennis Wojciechowski and I went to Mr. Patel’s home in Venice this morning in an effort to talk to him before an appeal was filed and any sort of stay was granted.”
Marcus Mason shook his head condescendingly.
“Perfectly legal—some might even say it was good lawyering,” I said.
I threw a condescending look back at him.
“Anyway, we went there,” I continued. “We found his front door open, and after knocking and calling out his name, we went in. We searched through the house and found him in a bedroom. Dead. We then called the police. Two patrol officers and their sergeant responded to the call and went into the house. When they came out, the sergeant judged the death suspicious and called out a homicide team. We stayed till the investigators arrived and told them what we knew, including that Mr. Patel was a witness in this case. And then we left.”
No one said anything. I tried to fill the void.
“While we were waiting for the detectives, my office manager contacted me and told me the appeal had been filed and that the court had scheduled a hearing on the stay. I came directly from Venice to the courthouse once the detectives cleared us to leave the crime scene.”
Ruhlin twiddled the pen she had been writing occasional notes with during my telling of the story.
“I saw your investigator in the courtroom,” she said. “If I brought him in here, would he tell the same story?”
“Of course he would,” I said. “Do you want me to go get him?”
“I don’t think that will be necessary yet,” the judge said. “Did the investigators tell you what was suspicious about the death?”
“No, Judge,” I answered. “But I have their names if you wish to reach out to them.”
“I don’t think that will be necessary either,” Ruhlin said. “I have my clerk confirming that there is an investigation. Misters Mason, do you wish to be heard?”
Marcus Mason nodded emphatically.
“Yes, Your Honor. Mr. Haller tells a good story but he leaves out key details. First of all, when he says the door was open, we have it on good authority that that was not the case. The door was not open, as he claims, and he and his investigator broke into the house and—”
“That’s a lie,” I interjected. “When I said the door was open, I meant it was unlocked. We found it unlocked and went in when—”
“Mr. Haller, you had your turn,” the judge said. “Do not interrupt opposing counsel. Continue, Mr. Mason.”
“As I was saying,” Mason said, “Mr. Haller’s claims in the courtroom as well as in here are exaggerated.
Yes, there is an investigation of Mr. Patel’s death, but it is being investigated as a suicide that occurred as long ago as last week—before there was even a hearing on whether Patel could be a witness.
Mr. Haller knew this and yet he chose in open court, with the media as his audience, to spread a completely false narrative he hoped would be carried by the media into the jury pool. ”
The judge flashed suspicious eyes at me.
“Mr. Haller?” she asked. “Mr. Mason makes a strong statement. Do you care to respond?”
I needed to quickly turn this around and get the focus off my motives and on Mason’s.
“Well, Judge, all I can say is that Mr. Mason has quite an imagination,” I said.
“I am flattered that he believes I can think that quickly on my feet after finding a man dead in his bed and also that I can pinpoint time of death without conferring with a medical examiner. But what I am concerned about, Your Honor, is that Mr. Mason sure seems to have a lot more information than I have. I would ask the court to inquire of him what was inquired of me—that is, what does he know and how did he come to know it. I would also throw in when he came to know it.”
Marcus Mason didn’t need the judge to prompt him. He jumped in.
“Your Honor,” he began, “we have a solemn duty to our client to provide the best defense we possibly can against this frivolous lawsuit. In doing so, we became aware that Mr. Patel was a disgruntled ex-employee who might have been tempted by Mr. Haller or his investigator to break his nondisclosure agreement with Tidalwaiv. We have a large firm with a lot of resources. We used them to monitor Mr. Patel, and this is where our information came from.”
I shook my head. The judge leaned toward Marcus Mason.
“These resources, are they people or cameras or other devices?” she asked.
“Uh, both people and cameras,” Mason said.
“Did you put a camera inside Mr. Patel’s house?” Ruhlin pressed.
“No, Your Honor,” Mason said quickly. “Of course not. Never.”
“Your Honor?” I asked.
“Not yet, Mr. Haller,” Ruhlin said. “Then, Mr. Mason, how did you accomplish your surveillance of Mr. Patel to the extent that you knew that his death was being investigated as a suicide?”
“Judge, we had a camera outside the house that recorded audio. It was not on his property. It was on a utility pole on public property. It picked up some of what the investigators discussed outside the house, and that information was forwarded to me. It was not illegal, and some might call it good lawyering.”
He threw my condescending look right back at me.
“I received the information just moments before the hearing began,” Mason said. “I would have brought the situation to the court’s attention at the start, but Mr. Haller jumped in before I could.”
The judge did another twiddle with the pen as she thought about everything she had just heard.
“Your Honor?” I tried again.
“Go ahead, Mr. Haller,” Ruhlin responded impatiently.
“Thank you. Your Honor, I would like opposing counsel to put on the record whether his firm or anyone working for his firm has me or anyone on my staff under similar surveillance.”
“That’s an outrageous claim, Your Honor,” Mason said angrily. “Tidalwaiv had every right to put a disgruntled and volatile ex-employee under surveillance for safety reasons alone. Mr. Haller is using this perfectly legitimate business practice to try to impugn opposing counsel.”
“That is a lot of words, Mr. Mason,” Ruhlin said. “But I did not hear you say that you do not have Mr. Haller or any of his staff under surveillance.”
“Sorry, Your Honor, I’m just very worked up,” Mason said. “The answer is no, we do not have Mr. Haller or any of his staff, or his client, for that matter, under surveillance of any kind. Period.”
“What about before this meeting?” I asked. “Have you been watching me or my investigator?”
“We have not,” Mason said. “There. It’s on the record.”
“Any other questions, Mr. Haller?” Ruhlin asked.
“I would like the record to reflect that the man Mr. Mason calls a disgruntled and volatile ex-employee, I would term a whistleblower,” I said. “But no, no other questions, Your Honor.”
I knew from Ruhlin’s countenance that I did not have to press the outrage button. She would handle that.
“Very well,” she said. “Gentlemen, I find the tactics and behaviors you exhibited outside the courtroom troubling and below the dignity of the court. I am putting both parties on notice that I will have little patience and show little sympathy should any of you or those working for you violate the law or the decorum of the US district court. That includes feeding the media unfounded claims or misinformation. This is not a street fight, gentlemen, and I do mean gentlemen. Be warned—conduct yourselves accordingly.”
Ruhlin got a chorus of Yes, Your Honors from the Masons and me. She then said the hearing was adjourned and dismissed us. We left silently and in single file behind the stenographer and headed back to the courtroom. I was last in line behind Marcus Mason.
“You looked a little stressed in there, Marcus,” I said to his back. “How’re you holding up?”
He didn’t turn around to look at me when he spoke.
“Fuck you, Haller,” he said.
“You sure that bow tie isn’t on too tight?” I said. “You don’t want to be cutting off blood flow to the brain. That’s not good.”
Now he stopped and turned. I almost walked into him.
“You know what you are, Haller?” he asked.
“I have a feeling you’re going to give me your take,” I said.
“You’re an asshole,” he said. “So fuck off.”
I smiled at him until he turned and went to catch up to the others.