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“Ladies and gentlemen, ask yourselves—would a case this flimsy be brought in any other state? Is it any mystery why it was brought here in New Hampshire, where President Wright will once again be in fierce competition for votes?”
Hardy folds her hands in front of her skirt.
“Members of the jury, the simple fact is, New Hampshire is a political state. And this is a political trial. You can think whatever you want about President Madeline Wright. Vote for her or not. But you must find her husband—the First Gentleman—not guilty.”
CHAPTER
91
What is this to you—ajoke?”
Cole Wright and his attorneys are spending the recess in a small conference room. The defendant is furious. He can feel his jaw tightening. Cole paces around the table, clenching and unclenching his fists.
The junior attorneys cower at his sheer intensity. Tess Hardy stands tall and straight against the wall. “I called an audible,” she says. “You of all people should know how that works.”
Cole glares at the others. “Give us the room, please.”
Carole Clifford and the two junior attorneys scurry out the door. The Secret Service agent follows. “I’ll be right outside, sir.” Cole slams the door in the guy’s face. Then he walks up to Hardy until they’re nose to nose.
“Tell me why the hell we spent two weeks going over your opening statement if you were just going to wing it this morning?Joe Pesci?Are you kidding me? I was about to jump out of my chair! It was reckless, inappropriate, totally off the wall.”
Hardy is unintimidated. “Are you done?”
Cole forces himself to take a few deep breaths. He counts to ten in his head. “Yes. I’m done. Now you talk. And explain.”
Hardy walks to the head of the table and takes a seat in one of the rolling office chairs. “Sometimes I read the room and get a sense of what will work. Sure, I could have fed these jurors a complex legal argument like the one we practiced. But I went for the gut, and I think I was right. I think I got to them. Sometimes humor works, even when the topic at hand is tragic. And sometimes simple is better than complicated.”
Cole slumps into another office chair. He places both palms on the table and leans forward.
“Tess. Listen. Maybe I’m overly sensitive. You need to understand that for the past three years in the White House and the four years before that in the California governor’s mansion, every word I’ve said in public has been scripted, scrutinized, and sanitized.”
“Right. Because you’re speaking for the administration. I get it.”
Cole rises partway out of his chair. “And you’re here to speak forme!”
Tess stays calm. “That’s exactly what I’m doing. I’ve studied Walter Dow. I know how much rope I’ve got with the judge.”
“Tess, I’m the client. You’re my attorney. You work for me.”
“That’s right, I do,” says Hardy. “For two thousand dollars an hour. Including the billable hours accruing right now.”
“That can all change,” says Cole, his voice suddenly low and cold. “I had a dozen firms pursuing me, dying to represent me in this.”
“Fine. Call them. We’ll just say we had a disagreement about trial strategy and compensation. Happens all the time.” She picks up her briefcase and starts stuffing files into it.
Cole tries his best to center himself. Both Maddy and Burton Pearce say that Tess Hardy is the best. He doesn’t want to lose her.
“Wait!” he says, standing up.
“For what?” says Hardy. “I thought you just fired me.”
“Did I say those words?”
“Not verbatim.”
Cole Wright places both hands on the back of a chair and softens his voice. “Then stop. And stay. Please.”
Hardy puts her briefcase down.