Page 108 of Impending Consent

"And the leak?"

"Got worse. By Valentine's Day part of the ceiling collapsed. I was lucky it didn’t fall on us. Water was everywhere, my son's bedroom was soaked too."

I approached the evidence table, retrieving a series of photos. "I'd like to enter these into evidence as Exhibit C. These photos were taken on February sixteenth, documenting the state of Ms. Thompson's apartment."

After the photos were entered, I displayed them on the courtroom monitor. The images were detailed and very clear as to the state of her apartment by then. Soaked drywall and tiles were hanging from the bathroom ceiling and walls with dark water stains spreading across the carpet. You could see the mold forming along the baseboards in the bathroom and hallway.

"Ms. Thompson, what happened after the ceiling collapsed?"

"I called Mr. Landry again. I told him we couldn't live like this. My son was starting to cough all the time. I asked to be released from my lease, but he refused. He said if I left, he would sue me for the remaining rent and keep my security deposit."

"What did you do then?"

"I didn't know what to do. I couldn't afford to pay rent on two places but my son was getting sick. I used the last of my savings to pay for a hotel for a few nights and that's when I contacted the tenant's rights organization who referred me to you."

"Thank you, Ms. Thompson." I turned to face the defense table. "No further questions, Your Honor."

Todd Landry's attorney, a middle-aged man with an expensive suit and a dismissive demeanor, rose for cross-examination. His strategy had been clear from the beginning and nothing like mine—blame my client, minimize the damages, and present his client as a reasonable businessman dealing with a difficult tenant, which she wasn’t.

"Ms. Thompson, isn't it true that you were late with your rent three times in the six months prior to the leak?"

I remained outwardly calm but mentally noted the irrelevant line of questioning for my rebuttal.

"I was late once, by three days when my check was late because of a mix up at work that had nothing to do with me. I communicated with Mr. Landry and paid the late fee, which he tripled," Ayana answered firmly.

"Isn't it true that you have had other complaints about the property? Issues with neighbors, concerns about the parking situation?"

"Objection, Your Honor," I interrupted. "Relevance? Ms. Thompson's previous communications with her landlord about unrelated matters have no bearing on the uninhabitable conditions caused by the leak."

"Sustained," Judge Hernandez nodded. "Counsel, stick to the matter at hand."

The questioning continued for another fifteen minutes with Landry's attorney trying and failing to undermine Ayana's credibility. She remained composed and answered directly and honestly. I felt a sense of pride at her resilience because the situation shouldn’t have happened and she could have let him run over her.

After the cross-examination was done I called a housing inspector who confirmed the severe water damage and codeviolations, followed by a pediatrician who testified about the respiratory issues Ayana's son had developed due to mold exposure. She didn’t have anywhere else to go and was in that moldy apartment for three full months.

Landry's testimony was next and I watched him carefully as he took the stand. He was in his fifties and far too arrogant for my liking.

"Mr. Landry, how many rental properties do you own in the Atlanta metro area?"

"Twenty-seven units," he replied in a cocky manner.

"And how many maintenance staff do you employ to service these properties?"

Got you, asshole!

He shifted in his seat. "Two full-time handymen."

"Two people for twenty-seven properties," I repeated, letting the implication sink in. "And when Ms. Thompson reported the leak on January twelfth you documented that in your maintenance request system, correct?"

"I believe so, yes."

I approached the evidence table again. "Your Honor I would like to enter Exhibit F, the maintenance records provided by the defendant during discovery."

After receiving permission, I handed Landry the records. "Can you point to where Ms. Thompson's January twelfth request is documented?"

Nope, you did not, asshole!

He flipped through the pages and frowned. "It must have been an oversight. We get a lot of calls."

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