The Professor (McMurtrie and Drake Legal Thrillers #1)(71)

“Overruled,” Cutler interrupted. “I’ve made my decision.” He banged his gavel. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,” he said, turning to face them. “Thomas McMurtrie will now be joining Rick Drake as counsel for the plaintiff.” He turned to the lawyers.

“Please proceed, gentlemen.”



Tom and Rick followed Ruth Ann back to the counsel table.

“What are you doing?” Rick asked. Tom could tell the boy was overwhelmed by shock.

“Taking you up on your offer,” Tom said.

“It’s a little late for that, isn’t it?”

Tom smiled. “Better late than never. I take it Ms Newton has changed her story.”

“One hundred eighty degrees,” Rick said, raising his eyebrows. “You’ve read...”

“I’ve read everything,” Tom said.

Rick gazed wide-eyed at Tom as they reached the table. “How?”

Tom started to respond, but felt a rough hand on his arm. Ripping his arm away, he turned to see Tyler.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve, showing up here, Professor.” He chuckled, glancing at Rick, then back to Tom. “Well, isn’t this something? Rick Drake and the Professor, together again. The papers will have a field day. Now, y’all play nice and don’t fight. We wouldn’t want any more things turning up on YouTube.” Tyler smiled and started to walk away, but, before he could, Tom caught his arm, pulled him close, and didn’t let him go. Keeping his face a mask of perfect calm, Tom whispered in Jameson’s ear, “Taking you to the woodshed is going to be so much fun, Jamo.” Tom winked, then let go of Jameson’s arm just as he tried to jerk it away, causing the Big Cat to stumble.

His face crimson, Tyler straightened his suit and stepped backward towards the defense table, his eyes never leaving Tom’s.

“Counselor, do you have any further questions for this witness?” Judge Cutler asked, looking at Rick and gesturing towards Wilma Newton, who remained seated at the witness stand.

“I...” Rick started, then looked to Tom.

“Yes, we do, your honor,” Tom said. “May we approach?” Tom was already walking, Rick behind him. “Trust me,” Tom whispered under his breath to Rick.

“What now?” the Judge asked, clearly irritated.

“Your honor,” Tom started, as they arrived at the bench again. “We’d like to treat Ms Newton as an adverse witness and cross-examine her. Also, I’d like to take over for Rick. Rick may have to be a rebuttal witness against Ms Newton, so it wouldn’t be appropriate for him to ask her any more questions.”

“A rebuttal witness?” Tyler asked, sounding exasperated. “Judge, a lawyer cannot be a witness in his own case. And they haven’t laid the proper predicate for Ms Newton to be treated adverse.”

“I’m not sure about Mr Drake testifying, but Ms Newton seems clearly adverse to the plaintiff’s position,” Judge Cutler answered, looking down and rubbing his eyes.

“Well...” Tyler started to say something but the Judge interrupted.

“Look, I’m going to allow the cross-examination. But it’s 4.20. Why don’t we call it a day? The jury is tired. I’m tired...”

“Judge, I don’t think I’ll be long,” Tom said. “Just give me till 5.”

Cutler took a long look at Tom.

“You got a lotta nerve, McMurtrie.” He sighed. “You played for Coach Bryant, didn’t you?”

“1961 team. Defensive end,” Tom said.

Cutler shook his head and gave a tired smile. “Hell of a team. All right, you’ve got till 5 o’clock.”

As they walked back to the counsel table, Rick whispered, “Professor, do you know what you’re doing?”

I sure as hell hope so, Tom thought, feeling his nerves kick in as he realized he was about to try a case in front of a jury for the first time in forty years. He looked at Rick and forced a smile. “Let’s see if this old dog has a few tricks left.”





60


“All right, Mr McMurtrie. Your witness,” Judge Cutler said.

Tom walked slowly towards Wilma Newton. The last three days had been a whirlwind, leading up to this moment. He had reviewed all the pleadings. All the discovery. All the depositions. Every piece of paper Ruth Ann had sent him. He’d also digested Rick’s concerns about Wilma Newton, and done a little investigation. Tom had hoped to get to court before Wilma took the stand, but making sure everything was ready had taken longer than he thought. But I made it, he thought, adrenaline coursing through his veins. Hopefully, I’m not too late.

Tom had not cross examined a witness in front of a live jury in forty years, and he could feel the rapid drumbeat of his heart. Calm, slow, Andy, he told himself. It was a phrase he used to think to himself when he tried cases. Something he taught to his trial team. Calm, slow, Andy. Calm and slow were self-explanatory. Be calm. Talk slow.

Andy was the trick. Andy was for Andy Griffith. If you talked and acted like Andy, you’d be calm and slow. It was a visual that everyone could understand. Calm, slow, Andy.

Tom’s eyes moved from Ms Newton to the jury, trying to make eye contact with as many of them as possible. Then he positioned himself at a forty-five-degree angle between the witness chair and the jury box, and looked at Wilma who returned his glare.