The Last Days of Night(73)

“I think I can manage just fine, Mr. Cravath.”

He ran across the station.





We can’t blame the technology when we make mistakes.

—TIM BERNERS-LEE



“IF IT PLEASE the court,” said Paul in his most lawyerly baritone, “the use of an electrical device for performing an execution is not—”

“And I object again, Your Honor,” said Harold Brown. “You have already ruled on the issue of this technology’s fitness for use in capital punishment, and Mr. Cravath is attempting to re-litigate—”

“And you see, sir, not only am I not ‘re-litigating’ but that’s not even what ‘re-litigate’ means. I would again like to object to Mr. Brown conducting this hearing without a proper lawyer present—”

“Both of you, be quiet,” barked Judge Day, already annoyed at how the day had been progressing.

Paul had at first been surprised that Edison hadn’t arranged for one of his real attorneys to handle this motion and had instead allowed Brown to run the show himself. It was certainly a show. Though Paul realized that that was perhaps the point. To the public, Edison still remained removed from Brown and the grim business of the electrical chair. The only thing was that Brown wasn’t an attorney at all. Arguing with him was like arguing with a half-informed child. The legal community had discussed requiring that prospective lawyers pass a proficiency exam, but such proposals remained purely talk. One did not need to take any sort of test to practice law in New York. Brown had gotten a friendly firm to attest that he’d spent some time apprenticing with a local attorney, and that was enough for Judge Day. Harold Brown had every right to sit at the desk opposite Paul’s and argue that William Kemmler should be executed by means of A/C.

“Mr. Cravath,” said the judge, “I’m not going to waste time hearing arguments on this issue again.”

“It is not my intention to rehash any of those arguments.”

“So then, what is your intention?” asked the judge.

“Simply to point out that even if New York State has the right to electrocute a man with alternating current, the state lacks the equipment to do so.”

The judge looked bewildered. This was not a line of argument that he’d anticipated. “How do you mean?”

“It’s quite simple. The only company producing A/C electrical generators in New York State is the Westinghouse Electric Company. And my client has never sold a generator to the State of New York. Furthermore, my client has no intention of doing so. I would suggest that if you’re keen on killing him with electricity, the state has no choice but to employ direct current.”

“That is absurd!” yelled Brown. “Direct current is far too low voltage, it cannot possibly be—”

“Quiet,” interrupted Judge Day once again. “Mr. Cravath has made an excellent point. But I will interrogate further: Cannot the state simply purchase a Westinghouse generator from one of the many citizens of New York who own one? I cannot imagine Mr. Brown here would have a hard time finding someone willing to sell.”

“Yes, yes, Your Honor,” said Paul. “I’m sure that Mr. Brown could browbeat a man into selling his firstborn. I’m sure he could get someone to sell him—or the state—an A/C generator. The problem is only that in such eventuality the seller has no legal right to sell, and the buyer no legal right to make use of his purchase.”

Paul took a sheaf of papers from his desk and approached the judge’s bench. “If it please the court, these are the bill of sale and licensing deals that the Westinghouse Electric Company makes with each purchaser of one of its A/C generators. Mostly these are small towns or neighborhoods. Occasionally a wealthy individual with a lot of ground to cover. This is what makes A/C so valuable—it covers many multiples the distance of D/C. But I digress. As you’ll see, the standard language of this contract clearly states that the purchaser of one of these devices is forbidden from selling the device to a third party. We’ve aimed, from the very beginning, to make sure that Westinghouse devices have not gotten into the wrong hands. But as it prevents third-party resale, it thus also means that if anyone were to sell their A/C unit to the State of New York without the Westinghouse Electric Company’s written approval—which I can assure you they won’t receive—they’d be doing so in violation of their license to operate the unit in question. Which means that the state would possess the unit illegally, and would not be legally permitted to turn it on.”

Judge Day read over the documents he’d been given. The language was clear-cut and ironclad. Carter and Hughes had written them. If Brown knew enough legal terminology to understand the contract, he’d quickly see that he’d lost.

Paul returned to his desk with a sense of satisfaction. His work with Westinghouse had not produced a great deal of successes in the legal realm; it was nice, for once, to have a victory.

“I’ve only one thing to add,” said Harold Brown. “To clarify the situation that Mr. Cravath has described.”

“Yes?” asked Judge Day.

“What if I was already in possession of one of Mr. Westinghouse’s A/C units? A unit that I did have the legal right to sell to our friends in the state legislature?”

“My client has never sold you an A/C unit, I can promise you that. Any document you produce that might show such a thing would be a forgery.”