Page 13 of Client Privilege

Damian

THE ECHO of my footsteps reverberated in the hallway leading to Justice Sommers’ chambers.

My heart raced as I thought about what I was about to do.

For a little over a week, I had navigated the legal minefield surrounding Alex’s case with precision, but today felt different.

Today, I was effectively challenging a presiding judge—something that could have serious repercussions for my career.

I knocked on the door, taking a moment to collect myself before stepping inside.

“Mr. Richards,” Justice Sommers greeted me, her expression neutral but alert. She gestured toward a chair across from her desk. “Please, have a seat.”

“Thank you for seeing me on such short notice, Your Honour,” I replied, settling into the chair opposite her.

The walls of her chambers were adorned with photographs—not just the expected ceremonial images, but also those showcasing her work with various legal advocacy groups.

A small Pride flag stood discreetly on her bookshelf, alongside volumes of Canadian case law.

“Your assistant mentioned this was regarding the Lajeunesse case,” she said, her tone measured. “I understand Judge Patterson is presiding? ”

“Yes, and therein lies the problem.” I placed my briefcase on my lap and extracted a carefully organized folder. “I believe there are grounds for concern regarding judicial impartiality in this matter.”

Justice Sommers’ expression tightened. “That’s a serious allegation, Mr. Richards. I presume you have substantive evidence to support it?”

“I do.” I handed her the first document.

“This is a transcript from yesterday’s hearing regarding the return of my client’s property.

Judge Patterson dismissed clear evidence of Mr. Delaney’s non-compliance with a court order—specifically, text messages sent to my client showing that Mr. Delaney still has possession of Alex’s cat, despite claiming in court that the animal had escaped. ”

She reviewed the transcript carefully, her frown deepening.

“And this isn’t an isolated incident,” I continued, passing her another document.

“I’ve compiled a summary of five cases from the past three years where Judge Patterson has ruled in domestic violence matters involving same-sex couples.

In each instance, his rulings deviated significantly from established precedent. ”

Justice Sommers raised an eyebrow. “Such as?”

“In Morales v. Kingsley , 2023, he refused to grant a protection order despite documented evidence of physical abuse, stating that ‘mutual combat’ was more likely in same-sex relationships—directly contradicting the Supreme Court’s ruling in R v.

Lavallee that established the relevance of power dynamics in domestic violence cases. ”

She nodded slowly, examining the case summary.

“Similarly, in Patel v. Gagnon , 2024, he dismissed evidence of financial abuse as ‘normal relationship dynamics,’ despite Ontario’s Domestic Violence Protection Act specifically including economic control as a form of abuse.”

Justice Sommers set down the papers, her expression grave. “While concerning, you know as well as I do that judicial recusal is an extraordinary remedy. The Canadian Judicial Council has established that disagreement with a judge’s rulings isn’t sufficient grounds for removal.”

“I’m well aware,” I acknowledged. “That’s why I’ve also brought this.

” I handed her another document. “This is a transcript from a Bar Association dinner three months ago where Judge Patterson made several concerning remarks about same-sex relationships being ‘fundamentally unstable’ and ‘prone to drama.’ Two witnesses have signed affidavits confirming these statements.”

She took the paper, her eyes widening slightly as she read.

“Even with this, you’re facing an uphill battle,” she cautioned. “The threshold for demonstrating bias under section 6 of the Judges Act is exceptionally high.”

“I understand that,” I said, leaning forward. “But there’s more at stake here than just legal precedent. My client is in genuine danger.”

I passed her the final document—the printed text messages from Marcus to Alex.

“These were sent yesterday, in direct violation of the restraining order. They demonstrate not only that Mr. Delaney still has Alex’s cat, but that he’s using it as leverage to force contact.

The phrase ‘come home and all is forgiven’ is particularly telling given the documented physical abuse Alex suffered. ”

Justice Sommers studied the messages carefully. “And Patterson dismissed these?”

“He called them ‘ambiguous’ and suggested they could have been sent by anyone, despite the clear context and timing.”

She set the papers down and regarded me with a penetrating gaze. “Mr. Richards, I have to ask—is there a personal element to your involvement in this case? Your reputation for clinical detachment is well-established, yet you seem unusually invested here.”

The question caught me off guard. Was I that transparent ?

“My only concern is justice for my client,” I replied, perhaps too quickly.

“Hmm.” She didn’t seem convinced. “You realize that if you pursue this course of action, there will be consequences. Judge Patterson has powerful friends, including several partners at your firm.”

“I’m aware of the potential professional ramifications.”

“And you’re prepared to accept them?”

I thought of Alex—his flinch when Marcus entered the room, the way his voice had gone quiet when reading those texts, his desperate concern for a cat that represented the only uncomplicated love in his life.

“Yes,” I said firmly. “I am.”

Justice Sommers was silent for a long moment, studying me with an intensity that made me uncomfortable. Finally, she sighed.

“In 2015, I presided over a case similar to yours— Tremblay v. Beaumont . A young man seeking protection from his wealthy, influential partner. I followed procedure to the letter, insisted on ‘concrete evidence’ rather than taking his fear seriously.” She paused, her expression darkening.

“Two weeks after I denied his emergency protection order, he was found dead in his apartment. Officially ruled a suicide, though I’ve always had my doubts. ”

She stood and walked to her window, looking out over the Toronto skyline.

“The law isn’t always equipped to recognize the particular vulnerabilities in these cases, Mr. Richards. The way wealth and social standing can become weapons. The way abuse in same-sex relationships can be dismissed or mischaracterized.”

She turned back to face me. “I cannot directly intervene in Judge Patterson’s courtroom. That would be inappropriate. But I can suggest an alternative approach.”

My pulse quickened. “I’m listening. ”

“File a motion under section 236 of the Ontario Courts of Justice Act for case reassignment based on specialized knowledge requirements. Argue that this case involves complex dynamics of same-sex domestic violence that require specific expertise—expertise that Judge Patterson has demonstrated he lacks through his previous rulings.”

“Would that work?” I asked, hope rising despite my attempt to remain pragmatic.

“It’s a procedural approach rather than a direct challenge to his impartiality, which makes it more likely to succeed.

I can speak with Chief Justice Huang about the importance of having judges with appropriate training handle these sensitive cases.

Frame it as a matter of judicial efficiency rather than bias. ”

I nodded, already mentally drafting the motion. “And in the meantime?”

“File an emergency motion under section 40 of the Children’s Law Reform Act.”

“But that pertains to children, not pets,” I pointed out.

“Yes, but the Ontario Superior Court has recently begun recognizing pets as more than mere property in domestic cases—see Baker v. Harmsworth , 2022. The court acknowledged the emotional bond and potential for using pets as tools of control. It’s not settled law, but there’s precedent you can cite. ”

She returned to her desk and jotted down several case citations. “Reference these cases in your motion. Focus on the pattern of control and the documented psychological impact of pet separation in domestic abuse situations.”

I took the paper, feeling a surge of gratitude. “Thank you, Your Honour.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” she warned. “You’re still fighting against a system that’s often stacked against victims like your client. And challenging a judge, even indirectly, is risky. ”

“I understand the risks,” I said, gathering my documents. “But I also understand what’s at stake for Alex.”

Justice Sommers studied me for a moment longer. “You know, Mr. Richards, I’ve appeared before you in corporate matters several times over the years. I always found you impressively dispassionate—calculating, even. This is… unexpected.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond to that. It was unexpected for me too—this fierce protectiveness I felt toward Alex, this willingness to risk my carefully constructed professional reputation.

“Sometimes,” I said finally, “a case changes you.”

She smiled slightly at that. “Indeed. The good ones always do.” She extended her hand. “Good luck, Counsellor. I think your client is fortunate to have you in his corner.”

As I left her chambers, my mind was already racing with the work ahead—the motions to draft, the precedents to cite, the arguments to construct.

But beneath the legal strategy, something else was driving me forward: the image of Alex’s face when he realized Marcus still had Buster, the mixture of fear and heartbreak in his eyes.

I pulled out my phone and texted Sandra:

Alex

I COUNTED my money again, spreading the worn bills across the stained motel bedspread.

Twenty-seven dollars and forty-three cents.

Not even enough for another night at this roach-infested place, let alone food.

My stomach growled, reminding me I’d stretched yesterday’s convenience store sandwich into two meals.

My phone buzzed. Damian Richards.