“Oppose,” Thomas said quickly. “In the first place, there is nothing in our arbitration contract that limits witnesses to those skilled in the art. Second, despite lacking any special skills, our pizza lady solved the code quickly and handily. A fortiori, one actually skilled in the art of microbiology would have been able to do the same.”
“I agree,” Judge Grant said. “Motion denied. Anything further? Nothing? So let us conclude. I declare this hearing terminated.” He turned to the computer terminal on his desk and began typing slowly, hunt-and-peck. As he typed he spoke in a firm clear voice. “I… find… for… Respondent Gruen Pharmaceuticals.”
Alfrey watched this in dismay. The printer whirred in near silence, Grant pulled off the document, signed it with a ball-point pen, and handed copies to the lawyers. “Mr. Alfrey?” Claimant’s counsel looked numb. The jurist finally had to touch the man’s hand with the edge of the paper before his fingers reached out for it.
“And now,” Grant said amiably, “we are going off the record.” He nodded to the reporter. “Ms. Johnson, we thank you for your assistance here. You are excused. As you leave, would you please switch off the TV camera.” As the door closed behind her the arbitrator addressed the group. “I think I can now give you the basic rule that governs this case and all cases like it. The rule is short and simple, but nobody is required to stay.”
Nobody moved.
As he continued the trace of a smile seemed to flicker around his mouth. “The rule is this: ‘One successful pizza delivery girl beats thirteen failed experts.’ ” He rose from the desk and started toward the door. In a moment he was gone.