Suzy's Case: A Novel Read Online Free PDF Page A

problem. He shouldn’t be taking cases that don’t have merit, but if he does it becomes your obligation to represent the client zealously, something you obviously have a problem with …”
    I agree. Nonetheless, a retort is invited by the nature of his sentence-ending pause. “So that’s the way it’s going to be, Your Honor? The trial court prevents me from quitting a phony case. A case that rightfully gets dismissed, at the risk of my losing my license, and this is how a member of the committee that rules on ethics thanks me?”
    “That’s right,” Judge Piccone replies. “I’m against cases without merit and against those involved.”
    “I’m against them, too. Isn’t that the reason why I’m here today?”I turn to my lawyer. “Let’s get out of here before I pop off at this pseudorighteous shit flake.”
    “Did you use a profanity toward me, counselor?”
    “No, Your Honor, I asked my lawyer if he was going to the White House clambake. He’s very political.” Piccone gives me a skeptical stare.
    I break the pause by giving him two finger snaps, Jerry Springer–style, and turn to go. The last I see, his gaze is still fixed on me.
    Piccone was known as a defendant-oriented judge when he sat on the bench, the kind of guy who would never know, unless it happened to him, the devastation and detriment that occurs to the injured and their families when insurance companies defend indefensible cases, thus withholding for years the money the plaintiffs deserve in a circumstance where life was permanently altered in an instant of reckless conduct.
    My lawyer and I recommence our exit journey. “Don’t be such a wiseass,” he warns.
    “How could anyone blame me for putting forth the truth of the matter?”
    “You know the truth carries little weight in legal proceedings.”
    “I know, but my life philosophy is ‘The truth will set you free.’ We’re walking, aren’t we?”
    We head down the stone steps of the Appellate Division. “Just stay out of trouble,” he cautions. “You’ve got an unbelievable practice going. Attorneys from all over the city still send you their injury cases despite your involvement with Benson.”
    “If I keep winning, they’ll keep sending. It’s all about results.” I point to the cart vendor. “You want some street meat? Some people think Papaya King on Eighty-Sixth and Third has the best dog in the city, but they got nothing on this guy. He grills, no dirty water, and they’re kosher.”
    He looks to the vendor, who just blew his nose in a paper napkin. “I’ll pass.”
    “Suit yourself. I feel compelled to eat a couple every time I leave that building as a tribute to continued licensure.” He grins. “Listen,I got to hop. I have to meet Henry to pick up that case I told Judge Howell about.” I salute my lawyer good-bye saying, “God bless America,” then pick up my commemorative dogs. I turn from the cart with my two grilled beauties, mustard and kraut, to flag a cab.
    What I see is too good. Even more tasty than what is in my hand. I can’t believe it. Adam Hellman is stepping out of a limo. I hate that asshole. He’s a showboat plaintiff’s attorney who gives our profession a bad name. I mean, who takes a limo to a disciplinary hearing? He’s a snake, too. He stole not one but two clients of mine by paying them off to switch attorneys. He’s leaning on the open door, gabbing into the limo. I bend down to see he’s talking with a young hottie all diamonded up. I can see the sparkles from here. A new girlfriend, no doubt, his having been divorced four times. I quickstep over. He doesn’t see my approach. I stop a foot behind him, holding my dogs to the side, out of harm’s way. I take a deep breath.
    “Adam!” I scream at the top of my lungs. He flies up into the air and almost falls upon landing between the elevation of curb and street. It feels good to startle the crap out of a guy like that. He gathers his balance and turns to me with a