Page 116 of The Proving Ground

Maggie got home late, but to my surprise it was not because she had gone out to Altadena on her way home. Instead, she had had after-work drinks at the Redbird with a few of her most trusted prosecutors and then stopped by Koi on her way home to pick up sushi and miso-glazed black cod for us to share. It was a quiet evening, no TV and no interruptions, until my phone dinged with an email from Judge Ruhlin’s clerk ordering all attorneys in the Tidalwaiv case to a meeting in chambers at eight o’clock the following morning. There was no explanation for the summons, but I didn’t expect that it would be anything good.

After a restless night, I was in the courtroom at the appointed time with the Mason brothers, who professed to know nothing about the reason for the meeting. Finally, at ten minutes after the hour, Ruhlin’s clerk told us the judge was ready to see us.

The judge was seated behind her desk and we took our usual chairs. Her black robe was on a hanger hooked to a coatrack in the corner behind her desk.

“Gentlemen, we have an issue,” she said. “Last night, the court was contacted by a juror and told that she tested positive for COVID.”

That made me move to the edge of my seat and lean in toward the judge.

“It was a store-bought test she’d taken at home,” Ruhlin continued. “I told her to go to the nearest urgent-care clinic to get another to confirm. She did and it was confirmed. They put her on Paxlovid and sent her home. It appears to be a mild case—so far, at least—and she should be fine, but we have the trial to consider.”

“I think that, based on this information and the motion already before the court, we have a mistrial,” Marcus Mason said.

“That’s crazy,” I said quickly. “We can dismiss a juror. We don’tneed twelve to finish, and this issue has nothing to do with yesterday’s bullshit motion for a mistrial.”

“Excuse me,” Ruhlin said. “And watch your language before the court, Mr. Haller. But you are both missing the point. She was in the jury box all day yesterday and tested positive last night. She very likely exposed the whole jury. We could have several sick jurors by the end of the week.”

I knew if that happened, we would be heading toward a mistrial. That would be a disaster. The Masons had seen my entire case except for my final witness. A mistrial would allow them to prep and be ready for exactly what was coming. For them, it would be like taking a final exam with the list of answers in hand.

I knew I had to head this off.

“Which of the jurors is sick?” I asked.

“Juror eleven,” the judge said.

The set builder I had fought to keep on the jury. One of my top picks. Losing her would be a blow, but a mistrial would be more devastating and most likely lead to a quiet settlement of the case.

“Suggestions?” Ruhlin said.

“There is no choice here but a mistrial,” Marcus said.

“Your Honor, he keeps calling for a mistrial because he knows he’s losing this one,” I said.

“Then what do you suggest, Mr. Haller?” Ruhlin said.

“I believe the incubation period from exposure to symptoms is on average five days,” I said. “Why don’t we recess until Monday and see if any other jurors have gotten sick before the court makes a decision.”

“It could be longer than five days,” Marcus said.

“It could be, but we won’t know till Monday,” I said quickly. “Have the other jurors been told about juror eleven?”

“They were told only that, because of a juror’s illness, we are adjourned today,” Ruhlin said. “I will obviously follow up and tellthem where things stand and that they should get tested themselves. Anything else, gentlemen?”

“If the juror just started exhibiting symptoms last night, she could have been exposed before the trial began,” I said. “Or while she was in the jury pool last week. It doesn’t mean the rest of our jury was exposed.”

“Yes, it does,” Marcus said.

“Well, it doesn’t matter,” Ruhlin said. “We’ll have a better idea by Monday. I am going to follow Mr. Haller’s suggestion and not decide anything until then. We will be adjourned till Monday and my clerk will keep all parties apprised of any developments. Thank you, gentlemen, for coming in so early.”

We went single file out the door as usual, but once we were in the hallway heading back to the courtroom, Marcus Mason slowed his walk and turned to look at me.

“You know how we can avoid all of this,” he said.

“So do you,” I said. “On the front steps of the building, all media invited. Accountability, action, and apology. In front of the cameras.”

“Not going to happen.”

“I know. That’s why we’ll be back here Monday.”