Page 132 of The Proving Ground

“Okay, here’s a question. Were you told that you were being moved out of Project Clair because you were a liability in this lawsuit and—”

“No, I was not!”

“That they were trying to hide you from scrutiny?”

“That’s a lie!”

Both Mason brothers jumped up to object and the judge called for silence in the courtroom, then signaled the lawyers up for a sidebar. She turned on the white-noise device so the jury would not hear our words.

“Okay, we have some high temperatures here,” she began. “I don’t want things to get out of hand in front of our jury.”

“Your Honor, he’s baiting the witness with every question,” Marcus Mason said.

“I’m asking questions that need to be asked,” I said. “This man is at the heart of this case, Judge. I’m not going to take it easy on the guy who—”

“Okay, okay,” Ruhlin said, cutting me off. “I understand the importance of this witness, but he also is quite volatile. You are walking a fine line, Mr. Haller. I am not going to turn this trial into a free-for-all fight. Is that understood?”

“Judge, I understand,” I said. “But I have a lot to ask this man, and some of these questions he’s not going to like. And neither will his lawyers.”

“We’re not his lawyers!” Marcus exclaimed.

“You prepped him,” I said. “He’s yours.”

“Okay, stop right there,” Ruhlin said. “We’re not going to get into a dispute over that. I’m going to break now, and hopefully cooler heads will return to the courtroom afterward. Step back, please.”

We went back to our respective tables and the judge called for a fifteen-minute recess.

“I’m sorry that is not enough time to get out of the building to get some fresh air,” Ruhlin said to the jury. “But stretch your legs, use the facilities if you have to, and be back in fifteen minutes so we can continue testimony. Remember the cautions: Do not discuss the case with each other or anyone else. Thank you.”

I remained sitting with my client as the courtroom cleared.

“This man—you think he’s responsible?” Brenda asked me.

I turned to look at her.

“I do, yes,” I whispered.

“But there must have been many programmers on the project,” she said. “How could he be the only one responsible?”

“He’s not the only one, Brenda. But he represents the company’s carelessness. That’s all we need to get across to the jury. It’s the rotten-apple theory. We are saying that one bad apple—Whittaker—spoils the whole barrel. If we get that message through to the jury—”

“We win?”

“That’s right. We win.”

47

ONCE WE WEREback on the record in front of the jury, I decided to take it slow with Nathan Whittaker and work my way to the line of questions I knew were going to be incendiary and might cross the fine line the judge said I was walking. Whittaker had returned to the witness stand calm and collected. I assumed he had spent the break with the Mason brothers counseling him on how to control his temper and deal with hostile questions. It didn’t matter. My hostility was real but had been curated and choreographed over the weekend with the help of Jack McEvoy. I was sure hostilities would rise again before the day was out.

“Mr. Whittaker, let’s go in a new direction,” I said. “Without revealing any company secrets or proprietary information, can you describe the difference between the lifestyle division and the business division of Tidalwaiv Technologies?”

“It’s pretty simple, really,” Whittaker said. “Lifestyle is entertainment and home-based products, and business is business. You know, business solutions powered by artificial intelligence.”

“And isn’t it true that when you were removed from Project Clair shortly after this lawsuit was filed, you were moved from the lifestyle division to the business division?”

“I’m really getting tired of saying this. I wasn’t removed. I was asked to take a transfer and I said yes.”

“You were asked… by whom?”