Attorney-Client Privilege Read Online Free PDF

news,” Thomas said, hanging up. “She’s critical, but stable. We might be able to talk to her tomorrow.”
    They had already placed a guard outside her room and given the hospital strict instructions that no one, especially Phillip Peterman, should be allowed in to see her. Mankowski, meantime, tried to reach Harold Gold, Phillip’s agent.
    Mankowski slammed down the phone. “Asshole gave us a wrong number.”
    “That,” Thomas said, “speaks volumes.”
    Mankowski turned to his computer to look up the agent’s office number on Google.
    “Well,” Thomas said with glee, “at least we have this.” He held up a plastic bag containing Phillip’s empty Pepsi can.
    “Criminals are so stupid,” Mankowski said with a satisfied smiled. “That arrogant prick is going to piss in his pants when he finds out we have his DNA. Let’s drop that off at the lab, then go have a little talk with Judi Irving’s almost ex-husband.”

CHAPTER 6
     
    B y the time we made it back to the courtroom, Girlie and To-nisha were already seated at the plaintiff’s table.
    Lamarr hadn’t uttered one word during our short walk back and I could see the fear in his eyes. For him, this was the fourth quarter with a minute left on the clock. If the jury’s verdict came back in favor of Tonisha, his future on the field was anyone’s guess. As for his endorsement deals, he could kiss them good-bye. At least for the immediate future. Memories would eventually fade, but it would take time. Just ask Kobe, Ben Roethlisberger or Michael Vick.
    Across the room, Tonisha rocked back and forth in her chair, while Girlie held her hand. Win or lose, the two of them would be hitting the talk show circuit so hard, they’d make Gloria Allred look camera shy.
    A side door opened and the bailiff led the jurors to their seats.
    Judge Pedrano wasted no time. “Madam Foreperson, have you reached a verdict?”
    A middle-aged white woman with short, curly hair rose from her seat. “Yes, we have.”
    I was shocked that Juror No. 1, a bashful-looking fifth-grade teacher, had been selected as the jury forewoman. None of the jurors made eye contact with me or Lamarr. Even the dental assistant no longer smiled Lamarr’s way.
    Juror No. 1 cleared her throat. “In the matter of Tonisha Cosby versus Lamarr Harris, Los Angeles Superior Court Case Number LC-983388, we find Lamarr Harris liable for sexual assault and award Tonisha Cosby two-million dollars.”
    “Two-million dollars! Hell naw!” Lamarr pounded the table with both fists. “This is some bullshit!”
    One of his homeboys yelled some indecipherable expletive from the gallery. The entire room buzzed with chatter.
    The unarmed bailiff was at our table in an instant, peering down at Lamarr like an angry school principal.
    Judge Pedrano banged his gavel in quick, successive raps. “Order! I want order in this court!”
    He aimed his gavel directly at Lamarr. “Young man, that kind of outburst is unacceptable in my courtroom. If it happens again, you and anybody else who’s out of line will end up in a holding cell.”
    Tonisha apparently didn’t believe the judge’s admonition applied to her. “Thank you for believing me,” she cried out in hiccupping sobs. “Thank you so much!”
    Lamarr’s chest heaved up and down and I thought he might be hyperventilating. I had explained the risks of going to trial and had even tried to convince him to settle shortly after Tonisha went public with her allegations. Back then, Tonisha probably would’ve agreed to drop her case for a tenth of the jury award. But Lamarr refused to pay
the lyin’ ‘ho a dime.
Days later, Girlie Cortez entered the picture and settlement was out of the question.
    It took a few more minutes before the judge regained control of the courtroom.
    I rose from my seat. “Your Honor, I would like to poll the jury.”
    The poll revealed that nine jurors voted in favor of Tonisha, with three for us. To my surprise, the dental assistant