celebration. It was one thirty by the time Jack entered the building. He dialed Freddy’s cell for a fifth time before passing his iPhone through the metal detector. Again, the call went straight to voice mail.
Answer your damn phone, Freddy.
Jack counted at least three or four dozen lawyers in the hallway outside Judge Carlyle’s chambers, and more were pouring out of the elevators. Bianca’s lawsuit named multiple defendants—the manufacturer and owner of the Scarborough 8, the oil companies in the consortium, and about a half-dozen related entities that arguably did enough business in the United States to justify bringing Bianca’s lawsuit in Florida. As a sole practitioner, Jack had been outnumbered in cases before, but this was insane.
No way can all these lawyers be defense counsel in my case.
“Swyteck, how you doin’, my friend?”
Jack recognized Freddy’s voice immediately. He turned and did a double take. Freddy had ballooned back up to well over three hundred pounds, and his size XXXL Hawaiian shirt looked like a circus tent covered with smiling dolphins and dancing hula girls.
“Freddy, what’s this about a hearing in my oil case?”
“Not your case,” he said, extending his arms widely. “ Our cases . As of noon, there were about three thousand lawsuits filed against the consortium for property damage and lost business in Florida. Many more to come.”
Jack suddenly felt like Rip Van Winkle, having slept through it all in a rocking chair on the front porch of his B&B.
“Who do you represent?” asked Jack.
“‘Places of lodging’ is the best description. Everything from trailer parks to Big Palm Island Resort.”
“You don’t say,” said Jack, deciding not to bite on Big Palm. “What’s the hearing about?”
“Money,” said Freddy. “The biggest problem we will all face—including you—is collecting a judgment from Chinese and Venezuelan companies who were drilling in Cuban waters. So a group of us came up with the idea to ask the court to freeze some of the defendants’ assets in the U.S. pending the outcome of our cases. The plan was to go after a supertanker filled with Venezuelan crude when it enters a U.S. port. One supertanker is worth about a hundred million bucks.”
“Sounds like a tough argument,” said Jack.
“Even tougher now. The oil companies somehow got wind of it, and they filed this emergency motion to stop us from going after any supertankers before trial.”
“Why didn’t I get notice of this?”
“Because these sneaky bastard defense lawyers didn’t file the motion in your case. They don’t want you here. You got the only client who’s a widow. Everyone else here is complaining about property damage and lost business. Judges are human, and the oil companies know that if they are going to persuade a judge to protect their assets, they need to keep the widow out of the courtroom.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“I want you to take the lead at the hearing.”
“I haven’t even seen the motion.”
“We have smart lawyers on our side, too, Jack. We can prep you in thirty minutes.”
“You should have given me more time.”
“I had to get the Plaintiffs’ Liaison Committee on board before talking to you. Everything’s all set.”
It wasn’t an ideal situation, but Jack had gone into court with less advance warning, sometimes in matters of life and death—literally.
“What do you say, Swyteck?”
Jack’s gaze drifted toward the elevators, where more lawyers were pushing their way into the overcrowded hallway.
“Either way,” said Jack, “it looks like my second honeymoon is officially over.”
Chapter 11
A t two p.m. Jack was seated in the last row of the public gallery in Judge Carlyle’s courtroom in the Freeman Justice Center.
As expected, the Cuban government and its state-owned oil company refused to participate in the hearing in any way, through legal counsel or otherwise, but more than a dozen attorneys for
Answer your damn phone, Freddy.
Jack counted at least three or four dozen lawyers in the hallway outside Judge Carlyle’s chambers, and more were pouring out of the elevators. Bianca’s lawsuit named multiple defendants—the manufacturer and owner of the Scarborough 8, the oil companies in the consortium, and about a half-dozen related entities that arguably did enough business in the United States to justify bringing Bianca’s lawsuit in Florida. As a sole practitioner, Jack had been outnumbered in cases before, but this was insane.
No way can all these lawyers be defense counsel in my case.
“Swyteck, how you doin’, my friend?”
Jack recognized Freddy’s voice immediately. He turned and did a double take. Freddy had ballooned back up to well over three hundred pounds, and his size XXXL Hawaiian shirt looked like a circus tent covered with smiling dolphins and dancing hula girls.
“Freddy, what’s this about a hearing in my oil case?”
“Not your case,” he said, extending his arms widely. “ Our cases . As of noon, there were about three thousand lawsuits filed against the consortium for property damage and lost business in Florida. Many more to come.”
Jack suddenly felt like Rip Van Winkle, having slept through it all in a rocking chair on the front porch of his B&B.
“Who do you represent?” asked Jack.
“‘Places of lodging’ is the best description. Everything from trailer parks to Big Palm Island Resort.”
“You don’t say,” said Jack, deciding not to bite on Big Palm. “What’s the hearing about?”
“Money,” said Freddy. “The biggest problem we will all face—including you—is collecting a judgment from Chinese and Venezuelan companies who were drilling in Cuban waters. So a group of us came up with the idea to ask the court to freeze some of the defendants’ assets in the U.S. pending the outcome of our cases. The plan was to go after a supertanker filled with Venezuelan crude when it enters a U.S. port. One supertanker is worth about a hundred million bucks.”
“Sounds like a tough argument,” said Jack.
“Even tougher now. The oil companies somehow got wind of it, and they filed this emergency motion to stop us from going after any supertankers before trial.”
“Why didn’t I get notice of this?”
“Because these sneaky bastard defense lawyers didn’t file the motion in your case. They don’t want you here. You got the only client who’s a widow. Everyone else here is complaining about property damage and lost business. Judges are human, and the oil companies know that if they are going to persuade a judge to protect their assets, they need to keep the widow out of the courtroom.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“I want you to take the lead at the hearing.”
“I haven’t even seen the motion.”
“We have smart lawyers on our side, too, Jack. We can prep you in thirty minutes.”
“You should have given me more time.”
“I had to get the Plaintiffs’ Liaison Committee on board before talking to you. Everything’s all set.”
It wasn’t an ideal situation, but Jack had gone into court with less advance warning, sometimes in matters of life and death—literally.
“What do you say, Swyteck?”
Jack’s gaze drifted toward the elevators, where more lawyers were pushing their way into the overcrowded hallway.
“Either way,” said Jack, “it looks like my second honeymoon is officially over.”
Chapter 11
A t two p.m. Jack was seated in the last row of the public gallery in Judge Carlyle’s courtroom in the Freeman Justice Center.
As expected, the Cuban government and its state-owned oil company refused to participate in the hearing in any way, through legal counsel or otherwise, but more than a dozen attorneys for
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