“Yes, I can.”
“Try it on me, try it right here.” Judy leaned back in the chair and put her Stanford cap back on. “I’ll be the judge. Judge Judy, get it?”
“Calm yourself.”
“And suck up a lot. We judges like that.”
“Please.” Mary stood up and gathered her exhibits. “I’ll keep it short. Basically, I’m asking the court for a temporary restraining order. I want the court to restrain, or stop, Justin Saracone and Saracone Enterprises from selling the rights to the patent and trademark to Reinhardt and ultimately, from getting any more royalties from licenses of the hatch patent or its improvements, because they obtained the original patent by fraud.”
Judy nodded. “So to get a TRO, or a temporary restraining order, you have to show that when this case goes to trial, you have a reasonable chance of success on the merits. In other words, you have to prove that Giovanni Saracone stole the invention.”
Mary tilted her head. “You talkin’ down to me, Your Honor?”
“I’m the judge. It’s my job.”
“Okay. First, I prove that Amadeo Brandolini registered as an enemy alien. Exhibit A.” Mary set down a stamped copy of his alien registration card. “Second, I prove that he was arrested and sent to Fort Missoula. I can’t prove it through me, because I’m not a fact witness, but you can. You saw the FBI memo, too.” Mary set out an affidavit she’d drafted about the FBI memo from the National Archives as Exhibit B. “Third, I prove that Saracone was sent to the same camp, and that they knew each other in the camp.” Mary set out Exhibits C and D, which were copies of the photos she’d gotten from Fort Missoula ’s archives. “I’ll authenticate them by affidavit of the museum director. Are you dazzled yet?”
Judy smiled. “Keep going, counsel.”
“Fourth, I prove that Amadeo died by asphyxiation in the camp, on July 17, 1942.” Mary set down the death certificate as Exhibit E. “Fifth, I prove that Giovanni Saracone was the only other person with him when he was asphyxiated.” Mary set down a piece of paper for Exhibit F. “Pretend this is an affidavit from Mr. Milton, which will be faxed to me tomorrow morning.”
“Better be. Blank paper carries no weight with me.”
“Remember, for these purposes, I don’t have to prove that Saracone murdered Amadeo, which he did. It’s not a murder trial, it’s a civil case of fraud. Capisce?”
“Then why are we in federal court? Fraud is a state court cause of action, counsel.”
“Under the Patent Act, the provision is ‘correction of a named inventor.’ And we’re squarely in dicta in Stark v. Advanced Magnetics. Also there’s ancillary jurisdiction because of the amount in controversy. You want me to get technical, Judge?”
“I’m already bored. Proceed, counsel. You got bigger problems than jurisdiction.”
“Now. Sixth, I prove that Giovanni Saracone, who was with Amadeo in the camp, filed for a patent application roughly ten days after Amadeo was killed.” Mary set down a copy of the patent application for the hatch as Exhibit G. “Seventh, I prove that Amadeo made a number of drawings of a marine hatch, which were given to me by his previous lawyer, Frank Cavuto.” Mary set down another blank piece of paper as Exhibit H. “This will be another affidavit from you, detailing what the drawings look like and that they were stolen from our offices during a break-in.”
Judy cocked an eyebrow. “You gonna question me on the witness stand, counsel?”
“Yes, and you’d better behave. I can’t sign it because lawyers make bad witnesses and they get disbarred besides.” Mary cleared her throat. “Eight, I refer to your affidavit and prove that Amadeo Brandolini’s drawings were identical to those submitted with the patent filed by Giovanni Saracone.” Mary set down a copy of the patent application, as Exhibit I. “Finally, I prove, by a copy of the police report, which we’ll get in the morning, that my office was broken into, which is why I can’t produce those drawings in court.” Mary sat down a piece of paper as Exhibit J. “Finally, I prove that Saracone had a lunch truck and was not a fisherman. Supported by a one-paragraph affidavit to that effect, faxed to me by my new best friend. Mr. Jackmann. That’s all he will say on the subject, and I’m only getting that much because Justin has made more enemies than Satan. The acorn doesn’t fall far.” She looked across the messy table expectantly. “Well?”
Judy had on one of those let-her-down-easy faces. “You still have no proof that Saracone stole the invention from Brandolini, and that is the critical fact. I mean, you can assert all you want, but without the drawings, you don’t even have a prayer.”
No. “The drawings weren’t proof anyway. Amadeo hadn’t signed or dated them, and I couldn’t authenticate them even if he had. I have no other sample of his writing, except the X on his alien registration card. But I can prove the fact that they were stolen, and that fits perfectly.”
“That’s not enough, Mare,” Judy said softly.
“It has to be. I have to make this work. I know I’m right, Jude. I know I can win.”
“You can’t.”
Mary flinched. “I can. At least I have to try.”
“No, you don’t. Not with the stakes this high. You’re too wrapped up in this case, you have been from the beginning. Be logical.” Judy spread her palms. “Why take such a big risk, if you’re only gonna lose?”
“Do you fight only the fights you’re gonna win, Jude?” Mary shot back, then she heard herself, and to her surprise, she sounded like she was actually making sense. It came as a revelation, suddenly lifting her spirits. “I mean, if you know you’re gonna win, it’s not really a fight.”
Judy sat back and broke into a slowly growing smile. “You know, you just said something that was either incredibly dumb or incredibly smart.”
Mary laughed and slipped on her cowboy hat. “We’ll see, lil’ pretty. We’ll see.”
Forty-One
At noon, Mary stuck her head out of the conference room door and looked right and left. No one in the hall. No one in the waiting room. Everyone was at lunch. Most important of all, the reception desk was empty and Marshall was nowhere in sight. She was the one who’d tell Bennie on them and she must have gone to lunch, too. The coast was clear.
“Andiamo,” Mary said, gesturing. According to plan, she had one stack of finished papers under her arm, and Judy had the other, and they hustled through the empty reception area to the elevator and hit the Down button.
“We did it!” Judy cheered, but it caught in her throat when the elevator doors opened and Marshall was standing inside.
Busted! Mary stayed calm. Judy stayed hyper.
“Hello, ladies,” Marshall said, her eyes narrowing to secretarial slits. She stepped out of the elevator cab and intentionally blocked the doors, which slid closed behind her. She looked unusually stern this morning, in a severe braid and a black shirtdress with a white collar that reminded Mary of every nun she’d ever had. Marshall folded her arms. “Where were you going?”
“Out,” Mary answered, and Judy added:
“Fine, thanks.”
Marshall cocked her head. “What are you up to?”
“Nothing,” Mary answered, and Judy added:
“Not today, thanks.”
Marshall looked from one to the other. “Why are you wearing stupid hats?”
The cowboy hat! Mary had forgotten she had it on. Judy wore her Stanford cap. “For attitude?” she answered, and Judy added:
“I always wear stupid hats.”
Marshall put her hands on her hips. “This can’t be good. Both of you locked in the conference room all morning, with chocolate and Joe Perry. This can’t be good. I’m responsible for you guys when Bennie’s not here, you know, and she’s going to be calling in again. You going to tell me what’s going on, or do I have to beat it out of you?”