Noah's Law Page 5

  I was busy sorting out all the documents in the spare office near the photocopy room when Jacinta walked past. I’d looked for her when I first got to the office but she’d been running late. She popped her head in the door and I smiled, trying to hide my embarrassment as I thought of my toddler tantrum.

  ‘Thanks for the other day . . . for covering for me.’

  ‘I don’t do anything pro bono,’ she said. ‘You owe me.’

  ‘Oh come on. A little free work keeps a lawyer honest.’

  ‘Well I haven’t decided if you’re worth it yet.’

  ‘Ouch. You really are lawyer material.’

  She smiled.

  ‘That wasn’t supposed to be a compliment,’ I said with a laugh.

  ‘Taken and savoured as one. So how was court with the cow?’

  ‘Better than the photocopier room.’

  ‘Fair enough.’

  ‘It was pretty cool actually. Not what I expected, but it was interesting.’

  ‘Well, I’m filing documents at court all morning so I’ll catch you after lunch.’

  ‘Yeah, okay. See you.’

  I was still putting the documents in order when Casey walked in half an hour later.

  ‘Bernie’s coming in for a settlement conference with the other side this afternoon. I’ll need you to prepare five copies of my position paper, stapled not paperclipped, and ensure that all the documents I refer to in the paper are included as annexures and marked accordingly. The conference is at two. I want the papers ready before lunch.’

  ‘Okay, I’ll just have to check with John how urgent this—’

  ‘Don’t bore me with unnecessary information, Noah.’ She walked out.

  Oh boy. Usually people like her didn’t intimidate me. My maths teacher, the one in a permanent bad mood, often made students cry; I was never fazed. But there was something about Casey. I couldn’t stand her thinking that I was incapable. I refused to give her the satisfaction.

  I rushed to John’s office in a panic. He looked up from his desk and gave me a cheery smile.

  ‘Dude! How’s it going? Everything okay?’

  ‘No. Casey needs me to do something for a conference she’s having at two and she needs it finished by lunch and I tried to explain that I’m doing your stuff but—’

  ‘Calm down,’ he said in a reassuring tone. ‘It’s fine. My task isn’t urgent. Can you get it done by tomorrow? Perhaps work on it after lunch?’

  ‘Yeah, sure.’

  ‘Okay then. Problem solved. Sorry, that was my fault. I should have given you a timeframe. Don’t stress.’

  Wow, what a nice guy. I would even overlook the ‘dude’ usage.

  Of course, Casey hadn’t bothered to explain where she’d left the position paper or annexures so I went into her office and tried to make the subtle point that as intelligent and sharp as I was, I was not a mind-reader, so would she please tell me where I could find the stuff she needed me to photocopy? (I didn’t literally put it to her like that but she got my point.) Without bothering to turn her eyes from the computer screen she pointed to a heap of documents on the floor next to her door.

  I went into the dungeon and got started. It felt a little lonely without Jacinta but I got over it when I realised how much copying needed to be done. As the machine churned through the documents I scanned Casey’s position paper, curious about Bernie’s case.

  CLAIMANT’S POSITION PAPER

  Background Facts

  1. The claimant is the spouse of the late Maureen White (’the deceased’). The deceased wasemployed by Jenkins Storage World as a sales assistant in their Chatsbury store.

  2. On 2 July the deceased, thirty-nine years old, was instructed by her employer, Mr Rodney Marks, to transport the day’s takings of $8430 to the company’s other store in Surry Hills. While walking to her car, she was murdered. The murderer has not been apprehended and no witnesses to the crime have come forward. The deceased’s purse was found beside her body. The bag of money containing the day’s takings was stolen.

  3. Had the deceased survived the attack, she would have had a right to an action in negligence against her employer, Jenkins Storage World, on the grounds that her employer failed to employ suitably trained security people to transport money between premises, failed to have the deceased accompanied by another staff member, failed to provide her with a distress alarm, failed to implement Work-Cover cash-in-transit guidelines, and permitted the details of the amount of money that the deceased was carrying to be known.

  4. Jenkins Storage World have admitted that they failed to implement a safe system of work (see annexure 1: statement of Rodney Marks). It is clear that a case in negligence against Jenkins Storage World would have succeeded had the deceased brought an action to recover damages for negligence against her employer.

  5. The claimant is entitled to recover the expenses associated with the deceased’s funeral (see annexure 2: funeral receipts) and damages equal to that which the deceased would have been entitled to recover had she not died and had she brought an action in negligence against her employer, Jenkins Storage World, for the reasons set out at paragraph 3.

  Claim

  1. The claimant claims the following:

  (a) Expenses associated with the deceased’s funeral: $11,335.54.

  (b) Loss of expectation of benefit: $595,000.00.

  (c) Damages for pain and suffering.

  (d) Party/Party Legal Costs: $9455.

  Whatever happened to plain English? As far as I could tell, the case came down to this. A woman, Maureen, was murdered on her way to her car. I guessed it was a robbery that went wrong. Maureen’s husband was suing her boss. That part was pretty confusing. From what I could understand from the position paper, he was suing because Maureen’s boss was somehow to blame for her murder. Maybe there was a safer way for her to get the day’s takings to the Surry Hills store.

  I flicked through the folder in front of me. It included a stack of enlarged photocopies of photos in a plastic slip in the back. I took the photocopies out. The first photo was of the shopfront, with a sign reading jenkins storage world. Nothing out of the ordinary about it. The next photo was of a car park. It was pretty small. It looked like the car park was located at the back of the store. Its perimeter was fenced off with a high brick wall, and there were trees hanging over parts of the wall. I couldn’t tell if there were houses or buildings next to the car park because the shot was narrow.

  The next photo was of Bernie with his wife. Their arms were linked and they were smiling at the camera. She had crinkly eyes and a wide, genuine smile. I stared at the photo. Something about it caught my eye. They were standing in front of a large sign: FARNHAM STREET SHOPPING MALL. To the left of them was a butcher and to the right was part of another sign: woolw. I presumed it was a Woolworths sign. The shopping mall kind of reminded me of the one near my mum’s house. Mum lived off Farnham Street and we’d been up to the mall heaps of times. There was a butcher next door to the Woolworths. I flipped through the file, looking for Bernie’s personal details. I found a sheet of paper stuck to the inside of the file with his full name and address. Sure enough, he lived in Mum’s suburb. It kind of creeped me out. Somehow the whole situation seemed more personal now. Maybe I’d passed by this woman in the shops or in the car park. And now she was dead.

  I flipped over to the next photo and I was suddenly confronted with a close-up image of Maureen’s dead body on the ground. She was lying face down in an awkward, twisted position. My eyes fixed on her bloodied head and my stomach lurched.

  No wonder Bernie was so messed up. I put the photos away, wondering how Bernie must have felt seeing his wife’s head smashed up.

  As I finished arranging the position paper and annexures into five piles, I silently prayed that Bernie got the money he deserved to allow him to move on with his life.

  I wondered whether I should show Amit the pictures. I knew it would be breaking some confidentiality rules. But it’s not like I would b
e publishing the photos in the paper. I would just show them to Amit and then I’d bring them back.

  I put an extra copy of the position paper and annexures into my bag. As grossed out as I was by the photo, I still wanted Amit to have a look.

  Well it wasn’t Law & Order, and it wasn’t a criminal law case, but there was a death involved and as slack as it sounds that kind of case sure beat spilt milkshakes in a shopping centre or falling on your arse in a cinema.

  Anyway, I’d always been interested in becoming a criminal lawyer. It was the only kind of law that appealed to me. My parents’ divorce had completely turned me off family law. My dad specialised in commercial litigation, basically representing people who sued over contracts, fought over intellectual property, copyright and patents, that kind of stuff. It could get interesting. Like the time he represented the big movie people in a major DVD piracy case. I helped him choose some of the worst pirated DVDs to show at the trial. You know the kind: heads bobbing in the cinema, the guy holding the dodgy camera who has the sneezing fit, popcorn being thrown in front of the camera. (Obviously, I didn’t tell Dad about the stash of DVDs Amit and I bought at the markets. We kept them hidden at Amit’s house while the case was running.)

  There was no way I planned to follow Dad’s exact same footsteps. Immigration law? I’d probably spend more time working on boring business visa applications than trying to get people who have escaped torture into the country. Environmental law? Well, sure, I believed in recycling and shorter showers, but I just couldn’t get excited over greenhouse gas emissions. So what was left? Insurance litigation? Mum, the tree-hugging leftie, would never speak to me again. Property law? Snore.

  So criminal law was a natural, obvious choice. I could also say this: having committed acts which may, in some states, have constituted crimes per se (one of my dad’s favourite phrases), I was in a perfect position to understand the mind of your average criminal. If I added knowing the law to the equation I’d be one of Australia’s best criminal lawyers and make regular appearances on the six o’clock news.

  All this was swimming in my head when I approached Casey with the bundles of stapled not paperclipped documents and asked, ‘Can I sit in on the settlement conference?’

  She let out a long sigh. ‘Noah, I really don’t have time. If you want a mentor, there’s John. God knows he doesn’t have my workload. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind you tagging along after him.’

  ‘I won’t be tagging along. I’ll be watching. There’s a difference.’

  Just then my aunt emerged from her office. ‘Oh, hello there, Casey, Noah. Good news, Casey! The Mallesons finally agreed to the deed of release we proposed.’

  ‘Well it’s about time. Congratulations.’

  ‘George sent through a bottle of champagne. He’s so happy.’

  Casey somehow managed to convey her excitement with a tight-lipped smile. ‘That’s great,’ she said.

  Aunt Nirvine was obviously keen to launch into a long conversation but Casey swiftly cut her off.

  ‘I’ve got the White settlement conference in an hour and I need to prepare for it. Let’s chat this afternoon.’

  ‘Oh sure, no problem,’ Aunt Nirvine said. ‘Are you attending, Noah? The dynamics of settlement conferences can be fascinating.’

  ‘Do you mind if I do?’

  Got you!

  I didn’t look at Casey but I swear I could feel the heat of her glare on the side of my face. Oh well, too bad.

  ‘Of course I don’t mind. Casey, is that okay with you?’

  ‘Fine,’ she muttered. ‘Now if you’ll excuse me I have work to do.’

  I spent the next fifty minutes working on John’s task. It was pretty tedious and I couldn’t help but torture myself by thinking of all the other kids my age, including Amit, who were enjoying their holiday.

  As I was working Jacinta popped in, plonking herself down on the chair in front of me.

  ‘I know my subjects for semester one. Torts with Ian Maklin, who is apparently the best lecturer on campus, and History and Philosophy of Law with Diane Chapman. The campus is amazing. Beautiful old sandstone buildings. Green lawns. I’m so excited! I’m going to join the swimming team too. I’m a fantastic swimmer.’

  Jacinta in a swimsuit. I quickly tried to block the image; I hadn’t mastered the art of thinking one thing (Jacinta diving into a pool) while looking like I was thinking about something else (the excellent education Jacinta would receive and how happy I should be for her, blah blah).

  Casey came by to collect me at five to one. Bernie was with her. He smiled when he saw me.

  ‘Hello, matey,’ he said. ‘Good to see you again.’

  ‘Hey,’ I said, smiling back.

  ‘Come on, let’s get moving,’ Casey said in a brisk tone and I followed them to the conference room at the end of the corridor. It was bright and spacious with a long oval table in the centre. A jug of water and a row of glasses were arranged on it.

  ‘You sit at the end,’ Casey said to me. ‘Bernie, you sit here beside me. I’ll just go to reception and collect the other side. Please remember, Bernie, don’t speak unless I tell you to. It’s important that the lawyers maintain control of the conference to ensure nothing unnecessary is said. As for you, Noah, don’t speak at all. In fact, to derive some use out of your presence I wouldn’t mind if you took notes for me. Here’s a notepad and pen.’ She dropped them in front of me and turned her attention back to Bernie. ‘Do you have any questions before I let them in?’

  ‘Nah, I’m right. It should be straightforward, like you said, yeah? I mean, we’ve got this Rodney guy’s statement admitting his guilt, so they don’t have a leg to stand on, yeah?’

  ‘Well, yes, I don’t expect he can retract his position given he categorically accepts liability. Anyway, don’t worry. Leave it to me. That’s what I’m here for.’

  She walked out and Bernie leaned back in his chair and let out a heavy sigh.

  ‘I tell you, matey, I just hate all this. Nothing’s simple anymore. Casey’s a top-notch lawyer and she knows her stuff, but lawyers in general, they complicate things. I mean, me wife was murdered, right? Her employer admits they didn’t have proper safety standards. So case closed. Maureen would have got some compo for that, only she died. So why do we have to go through all these meetings and court hearings and conferences? I’ll tell you why: so they can get their fees and build bigger houses for themselves. It all comes back to money.’

  I wasn’t sure if that was altogether true. Sure, my dad loves money and buying expensive things, but I think he’d be happy as a lawyer even if he wasn’t earning big bucks. He loves the law. To him, High Court judgments are as good as a thriller.

  ‘I saw the pictures and stuff of what happened to your wife. It’s awful.’

  ‘Thanks, mate. Let’s just hope I win the case.’

  Casey walked in, followed by Mr Humphries, the lawyer who had appeared in court the other day, and a tall, broad-chested man with wiry brown hair and sky-blue eyes. Casey motioned for them to take a seat across the table from us.

  ‘This is my client, Bernie White. This is Noah, who is on work experience with us.’

  ‘I’m Jeff Humphries and this is my client, Rodney Marks.’

  ‘Yeah, g’day,’ Bernie said roughly, as he shook their hands.

  Jeff and Rodney sat down. I watched Rodney closely. He looked like he was going to wet his dacks. He was fidgeting in his seat, his eyes darting around the room.

  ‘Your claims officer isn’t attending?’ Casey asked Jeff, as she poured herself a glass of water.

  ‘Ah, no. But she’ll be available on the phone for me to take her instructions.’

  ‘Well that’s good to hear or this would have been a waste of time. Here’s a copy of our position paper. It’s the same paper I served on you last night only this one has the annexures attached. I haven’t received anything from you.’

  ‘Yes, sorry about that. Here’s our paper.’

  ‘How
do you propose to conduct this conference?’ Casey asked as she put the position paper to the side. Without letting Jeff respond, she continued, ‘I don’t see any point in us rehashing our cases in great detail. We’re not here to run a hearing. Perhaps if we just quickly summarise our respective positions we can get on with the purpose of today, which is to arrive at a settlement of this matter.’

  From what I’d heard around the office so far, settlement was the best result on a case. Going to court was expensive so coming up with an agreement to pay without getting to the courtroom was what all the lawyers hoped for. I wanted to sit in to see how it all worked. It’d be one big bargaining fight over how much to pay. Like haggling at the markets except this wasn’t about getting the best price for a leather jacket. It was Bernie’s life. It was about making sure that the guys responsible didn’t get away with Maureen’s death.

  ‘That sounds reasonable to me,’ Jeff said, as though he had a choice.

  ‘Okay,’ Casey said, shuffling the papers in front of her. ‘Our position is basically this: the deceased expired as a consequence of your client’s negligent system of work, which has been admitted by your client. Had she survived the attack, she would have had a case in negligence against your client and, we maintain, would have been entitled to recover damages accordingly. My client is the surviving spouse of the deceased. He has been unemployed for the past ten years having suffered a workplace injury that rendered him permanently incapacitated. He was dependent upon his wife’s earnings. He therefore claims the loss of expectation of benefit had the deceased not died and continued working, damages for pain and suffering, his wife’s funeral expenses and costs to date.’