There was some minor uproar from the plaintiff's table at her words but Cranford himself merely blinked. "Conflict of interest?" he asked. "That is a fairly serious accusation, Ms. Kingsley. Perhaps you would explain yourself?"
"Most certainly," she said. "I have information that you have financial interests in National Records Corporation, specifically that you own more than one thousand shares of National Records stock."
Again, Cranford did little more than blink. "And where," he enquired, "might you have acquired information such as that?"
"My source prefers to remain anonymous," Pauline told him. "In fact, he will refuse to testify to this knowledge."
"This is ridiculous," said Frowley. "She's an amateur trying to make demands based on unverifiable hearsay."
"That's correct," Pauline said. "I cannot produce a single document at this moment to verify my accusation. But we're not talking about the admissibility of evidence here, are we? I am simply stating a concern that has been brought to my attention. If this concern is groundless than I have no objection to Judge Cranford remaining in charge of this case. But if it is true, than I would ask, quite correctly, that His Honor recuse himself as required under the law."
Cranford smiled and, with a straight face, said, "As far as I know, I own no shares of National Records stock and have no financial interests in National Records."
Jake saw Matt tense up, knew he was about to scream out, "You fucking lying piece of shit!" or something equally contemptible. He put his hand on Matt's wrist, giving it a firm squeeze. Matt remained silent.
"Okay then," Pauline said politely. "I'll withdraw my request."
"I'll consider it withdrawn," Cranford said.
"However," she added, "considering the gravity of the decisions likely to result from this case — both in this hearing and in the long term — and, since I do have information, albeit unverified, that you might possibly own shares of National Records stock, I will find it necessary to request a formal investigation into this issue by the judicial review board."
"Oh you will, will you?" he asked.
"Yes, Your Honor," she said. "I will. And I'm sure I don't have to explain to you that if you did, in fact, own shares of National Records stock and if you did not recuse yourself from this case based on that, you would be in blatant violation of section 170.3 of the California Code of Civil Procedure and subject to severe sanction by the board, up to and including removal from the bench."
Cranford actually paled as she made this statement. Frowley and his fellow mouthpieces did the same. Jake simply looked at his sister in awe, seeing her as he had never seen her before. Sure, he knew she was a lawyer, had suspected she was a good one, had taken more than his share of legal advice from her, but this was the first time he had ever seen her act like a lawyer. She had just crammed it home to a judge — a fucking superior court judge! — in his own courtroom and she had done it in a way that would not leave her open for charges of contempt or misconduct or unprofessionalism.
"Well now," Cranford said slowly, "I would certainly hate to have my name dropped on the judicial review board, and, since I have stockbrokers and accountants who handle most of my investment money for me, I suppose it is theoretically possible I might have unknowingly acquired a few shares of National Records stock at some point. In the interests of fair and impartial proceedings I will call a brief recess and make an inquiry with my accountant just to make sure."
He pounded his gavel and retreated to his chambers. Over at the plaintiff's table a furious whispered discussion was taking place. At the defendant's table Matt was grinning and being restrained from shouting insults at Frowley and his boys by Jake's hand on his arm. Pauline — who already knew she'd won this round — was keeping her game face firmly in place. Bill wrote something on one of her legal pads. He ripped it off and passed it to her. It read, I've never been so aroused in my life. Will you mate with me? She took the pen from his hand and scrolled back, Ask me again when we're both rich.
Five minutes went by and Judge Cranford re-emerged from his chambers. He sat back at the bench and banged his gavel, officially ending the recess and prompting the court recorder to resume transcription.
"Well now," he said, "I would certainly like to thank Ms. Kingsley for bringing this matter to my attention. I spoke with my accountant and it turns out that I do, in fact, own a number of shares of National Records stock. I guess this will teach me to keep a little closer eye on my investments. In any case, since I do have a so-called 'business interest' with one of the principals in this case I must, under the law, recuse myself from it. The case will be re-assigned and the attorneys of record will be notified of the new judge and the new time and place of the hearing." He pounded his gavel and left the courtroom.
Eric Frowley and his cohorts showed no expression as they gathered their papers and notebooks, placed them in their briefcases, and filed out of the courtroom.
Jake, Pauline, Bill, and Matt gathered their own materials and followed them out. Once in the hallway Matt yelled after the retreating group. "Hey, Frowley!"
Frowley turned and looked at them. His companions did the same.
"In your face, ass breath!" Matt yelled, triumphantly squeezing his crotch. "In your fuckin' face!"
Frowley's face darkened but he said nothing. He turned and walked out the door, disappearing.
The Honorable Anthony Remington was chosen to take over the case of National Records vs. Intemperance. A new hearing was scheduled for January 11, the following Friday.
"Is he good or bad?" Jake asked Pauline when she called him the Monday following Cranford's recusal to tell him the news.
"He's better than Cranford so there's a victory right there, but he's not as good as Allanstand would have been. Allanstand is seventy-eight years old and grew up in an era where Edison's original phonograph was still all the rage."
"How old is Remington?"
"Sixty-two," she said. "Born in 1923, grew up in Redding, California solidly upper middle class. Graduated high school with honors and went to UCLA until Pearl Harbor, at which point he enlisted in the marines. He fought with distinction at Iwo Jima and Okinawa. After the war he returned to UCLA and finished his undergraduate degree and then went to Stanford School of Law. He served ten years with the LA County District Attorney's office and five in private practice before being appointed to the bench by Governor Ronald Reagan. He is very conservative and is considered a stickler for courtroom propriety and discipline. He has handed down more contempt of court rulings than any other judge in the region, including Allanstand, who has been on the bench for thirty plus years. That means we need to keep Matt's mouth stapled firmly shut."
"Stapled shut. Got it. What about propensities toward the record company?"
"He's never handled a music industry suit before," she replied. "At least not that we've been able to uncover. As far as his leanings go, however, his rulings tend to fall back on strict letter of the law. So, in short, if he feels that you were deliberately producing sub-standard music, he'll grant National's request for a back to work order and he'll come down hard on you if you refuse or if you produce more of the same. However, if he feels you really did make a good faith effort, chances are he'll deny that request and tell National to wait until the trial."
"So that's kind of good, right?" Jake asked.
"I suppose," she said. "At least it's fair and that's about all we can ask at this point."
The hearing convened exactly on time. Judge Remington was a tough looking man, the epitome of the fighting marine he had once been. His face was stern, his eyes unforgiving. As Jake rose in honor of His Honor, he thought he'd never seen a man who looked less thrilled to be facing a bunch of longhaired, ass-crack sniffing rock and roll musicians.