Page 25 of The 1 Lawyer

He was coming for Caro. At the defense table, I got into position and put my hands up. When Gates tried to shove me out of the way, I planted my foot and pivoted my torso counterclockwise. My body block didn’t budge, so he swung at me and hit me squarely in the left eye.

Charlene tackled Gates. It was a dogpile, and I was on the bottom of it.

She cuffed Gates and jerked him to his feet. The judge tried to speak to the jury as Gates broke down. Sobbing, he said, “She was my baby girl. I had one daughter, and he took her from me. Don’t let him get away with it.”

As the bailiffs hustled him down the aisle, I picked myself up off the floor. I adjusted my jacket, straightened my tie, and sat back down beside my client. My eye ached from Gates’s blow, and my ankle smarted, but my pain was nothing compared to the raw agony in the voice that now echoed in the hall outside the courtroom.

“Did you see what he did to my little girl? I can’t stand it! My little girl!”

CHAPTER 20

AFTER THE jurors filed out of the courtroom, Judge Walker pointed his gavel at Gordon-James. “I need to see counsel in chambers.”

Before I could rise, Daniel Caro leaned toward me and whispered, “I want a new trial.”

Pushing back from the table, I said, “I’ll see what I can do.”

He followed me and seized my arm. “I’m serious. Do you understand? I demand a new trial.”

We were in complete accord on that point, but it was the second time in three days he’d grabbed me. I shook him off. “I heard you. Why don’t you go talk to your wife? She looks pretty upset.”

Iris Caro was sitting on the front bench. Her head was bowed and her sideswept blond hair shielded her face, so I couldn’t read her expression, but her posture conveyed her shame and misery. I decided that if Caro was too thickheaded to console Iris, I’d give him a shove, but he went over to her.

When I entered chambers, I found Gordon-James seated across from Judge Walker’s desk, arms folded, listening to the judge’s tirade.

“Damn it, Henry, you get your man under control.” The judge jerked off his robe. “Hear me?”

“I will, Your Honor.”

Walker tossed the robe onto a coatrack. “You better. Because if he pulls that crazy act in my courtroom again, I’ll hold him in contempt. I don’t give a good goddamn if he’s the victim’s father. He can’t go off in front of the jury, you understand?”

I shut the door behind me and leaned against it. “This jury is finished, Judge.”

Walker shifted his ire from the DA to me. “What the hell does that mean?”

When I squinted in response to his inane question, my left eye throbbed. “Come on, Judge Walker. We all saw what Mr. Gates did. The jury’s been tainted by his outburst.”

Walker eased into his chair. “Have a seat, Stafford Lee. Let’s work this out.”

I couldn’t refuse the judge’s invitation. I took the seat beside Gordon-James, and the judge reached for the landline on his desk. “Let’s cool off. Who needs a cold drink? Stafford Lee, what can I tell Megan to get for you?”

“Nothing.” He couldn’t buy my cooperation with a can of Coke.

He took his hand from the receiver. “When we reconvene, we’ll patch this up. My first instruction to the jury will be to disregard the incident with the victim’s father.” Looking to the DA, he said, “What’s his name?”

“Benjamin Gates,” Gordon-James said.

“Right. And in front of the jury, I’ll threaten with contempt anyone who disrupts my courtroom. Any outburst will land them in jail. Okay, gentlemen? Henry? Stafford Lee?”

I didn’t respond. But Gordon-James said, “All right.”

Walker leaned forward and placed his elbows on the desk. “How about that, Stafford Lee? I’ll throw a scare into them.”

I made both men wait a moment for my response to that shabby, insufficient remedy. “I request a mistrial, Your Honor.”

“Oh, come on, Stafford Lee,” he said in a wheedling tone.

He was trying my patience. “My client has been prejudiced by Benjamin Gates’s breakdown in front of the jury.”

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