The Appeal Read Free

“Question number one: ‘Do you find, by a preponderance of the evidence, that the groundwater at issue was contaminated by Krane Chemical Corporation?’” After a treacherous pause that lasted no more than five seconds, he continued, “The answer is ‘Yes.’”
    One side of the courtroom managed to breathe while the other side began to turn blue.
    “Question number two: ‘Do you find, by a preponderance of the evidence, that the contamination was the proximate cause of the death or deaths of (
a
) Chad Baker and/or
(b)
Pete Baker?’ Answer: ‘Yes, for both.’”
    Mary Grace managed to pluck tissues from a box and hand them over with her left hand while writing furiously with her right. Wes managed to steal a glance at juror number four, who happened to be glancing at him with a humorous grin that seemed to say, “Now for the good part.”
    “Question number three: ‘For Chad Baker, what amount of money do you award to his mother, Jeannette Baker, as damages for his wrongful death?’ Answer: ‘Five hundred thousand dollars.’”
    Dead children aren’t worth much, because they earn nothing, but Chad’s impressive award rang like an alarm because it gave a quick preview of what was to come. Wes stared at the clock above the judge and thanked God that bankruptcy had been averted.
    “Question number four: ‘For Pete Baker, what amount of money do you award to his widow, Jeannette Baker, as damages for his wrongful death?’ Answer: ‘Two and a half million dollars.’”
    There was a rustle from the money boys in the front row behind Jared Kurtin. Krane could certainly handle a $3 million hit, but it was the ripple effect that suddenly terrified them. For his part, Mr. Kurtin had yet to flinch.
    Not yet.
    Jeannette Baker began to slide out of her chair. She was caught by both of her lawyers, who pulled her up, wrapped arms around her frail shoulders, and whispered to her. She was sobbing, out of control.
    There were six questions on the list that the lawyers had hammered out, and if the jury answered yes to number five, then the whole world would go crazy. Judge Harrison was at that point, reading it slowly, clearing his throat, studying the answer. Then he revealed his mean streak. He did so with a smile. He glanced up a few inches, just above the sheet of paper he was holding, just over the cheap reading glasses perched on his nose, and he looked directly at Wes Payton. The grin was tight, conspiratorial, yet filled with gleeful satisfaction.
    “Question number five: ‘Do you find, by a preponderance of the evidence, that the actions of Krane Chemical Corporation were either intentional or so grossly negligent as to justify the imposition of punitive damages?’ Answer: ‘Yes.’”
    Mary Grace stopped writing and looked over the bobbing head of her client to her husband, whose gaze was frozen upon her. They had won, and that alone was an exhilarating, almost indescribable rush of euphoria. But how large was their victory? At that crucial split second, both knew it was indeed a landslide.
    “Question number six: ‘What is the amount of punitive damages?’ Answer: ‘Thirty-eight million dollars.’”
    There were gasps and coughs and soft whistles as the shock waves rattled around the courtroom. Jared Kurtin and his gang were busy writing everything down and trying to appear unfazed by the bomb blast. The honchos from Krane in the front row were trying to recover and breathe normally. Most glared at the jurors and thought vile thoughts that ran along the lines of ignorant people, backwater stupidity, and so on.
    Mr. and Mrs. Payton were again both reaching for their client, who was overcome by the sheer weight of the verdict and trying pitifully to sit up. Wes whispered reassurances to Jeannette while repeating to himself the numbers he had just heard. Somehow, he managed to keep his face serious and avoid a goofy smile.
    Huffy the banker stopped crunching his nails. In less than thirty seconds he