Death Rattle by Alex Gilly

Author:Alex Gilly [Alex Gilly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

SEVENTEEN

“WOLFESON, White. Jesus,” said Joaquin. He hustled around the table in the conference room of the Juntos office in Boyle Heights and adjusted the spacing between the chairs. It was just before ten on Tuesday, the fourteenth of May. Ten days had passed since Mona had served Michael Marvin in front of three hundred people in evening wear. Eight had passed since Wolfeson, White had contacted Mona to say that the BSCA had appointed the firm to defend it against her suit.

“How many people did they say?” said Joaquin.

“They didn’t,” said Mona.

A cloud passed over Joaquin’s face. “Maybe we won’t have enough chairs.”

“I’ve got chairs in my office. So do you. We’ll bring them in if we need them.”

She knew why he was anxious. At first, she had been anxious, too. Neither Mona nor Joaquin had ever encountered Wolfeson, White in court before, but they both knew the firm by its reputation for producing some of the most fearsome litigators in the country. The moment Joaquin had learned who was representing the BSCA, he had tried to persuade Mona to drop the case. He’d stood in the hallway of the poky, cheaply fitted-out Juntos office and moved his hands nonstop, running them through his hair, even clenching them into fists to emphasize how outmatched he felt they were against Wolfeson, White.

“They’ll kill us in court. That’s if the case even makes it to court,” he said now in the conference room, speaking louder than Mona suspected he realized. “Because they’re going to do everything they can to keep it from going to court. You realize that, right?”

Mona said she realized that. She wanted to say more, but Joaquin kept rolling. He was verging on manic.

“Wolfeson, White. Jesus,” he said again. “Don’t they represent Exxon? They probably represent Exxon. And Halliburton. Or Monsanto. Or Big Tobacco. One of those. Maybe all of them. They’re gonna drown us, Mona. Like kittens in a sack. They’ll depose and delay. They’ll request endless documents. They’ll get teams of lawyers to do nothing but draft things that you’ll have to respond to. We’ll have to work insane hours to keep up, and even then it won’t be enough.”

Mona smiled. If there was one thing she knew how to do, it was how to work insane hours. She wasn’t worried about her ability to work.

“It’s not even billable,” said Joaquin. “Who would I bill? There’s no one to bill. So you’ll be costing us. Which means all those hours you put in will be paid for by our donors. Which means it’s a violation of our charter. We’re supposed to help living migrants deal with immigration law. Who’s going to tell our donors we’re spending all their money fighting a wrongful death suit? And what if you lose? What then? What if you lose and we’re ordered to pay costs?”

Mona let him carry on, let him vent, bleed the steam from his pipes. He was a lawyer like she was, and like she had, he had

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