I was feeling really smug. I had finessed a $150,000 settlement for an alienation of affection suit against Amber's paramour even though such suits are complete bullshit in our state, and hurt him even more where it counted since he had to settle property suits with both of his neighbors. Monday I had had Amber served with divorce papers, and apparently she was devastated. Yeah, I was really smug.
Friday morning the self-satisfied look left my face.
The call from Family Court Judge Susan St. John's chambers rattled me. I thought that I knew all that I needed to know about the relationship between the family court and the criminal court, where I practiced, and the general procedures before family law judges, but that did not include anticipating a call from a judge less than a week after a case was filed. I was acting as my own attorney and suddenly wasn't feeling so sure of myself, so I called up one of my former law school classmates who was practicing family law full time and asked her a few questions. Then I did some more research.
While not the practice everywhere, in my state the family law court is not only completely separate from the criminal court – all the judges, the courthouse, and even the rules are different – but so is the enforcement arm. The family law court deals with the Sheriff's Department. My office deals with the Metropolitan Police. The traditional charity softball game between those two law enforcement branches had to be canceled as of three years ago because the bad blood between them spilled out onto the softball diamond – that will give you an idea of their relationship.
Even though the old adage that "A lawyer who represents himself has a fool for a client" has a lot of truth to it, I did not hire someone else because no one else would exhibit the brass balls or mental toughness that I was willing to exhibit – it would jeopardize his or her career, and they simply would have been unwilling to do what I knew needed to be done.
Amber was being represented by Compton, Gerald, and Casey, the biggest, most expensive old fart law firm in the state, not just City X. They were politically connected to almost every legislator on both sides of the isle, the Mayor, and the Governor. Despite Amber's wealth I knew that MegaBank money was behind this – I had a feeling that the president of MegaBank wanted this to go away and Compton, Gerald and Casey were on retainer by MegaBank.
When I entered the courtroom there sat forlorn, beautiful, tastefully dressed, Amber Miller (we both kept our pre-married last names when we wed). She tried, unsuccessfully, to make eye contact with me. The other side had three attorneys – what in the hell they needed three for, I don't know.
Their lead attorney was the head of the Family Law Department at the old fart firm, Jim Casey, the younger brother of one of the name partners. He walked over to me before the Judge arrived and said "Mr. Westin, so glad to meet you, I'm Jim Casey," extending his hand. I wanted him to know from the start what this case was going to be like.
"I know who you are Mr. Casey. If I were here as an attorney I would feel compelled by professional etiquette to shake your hand and engage you in a pleasant conversation. However, I am here as a wronged party in a divorce, cheated upon by my wife who now just wants to save some of her money. As such I decline any attempt at collegiality between us. This will be a street fight unless she capitulates, and I fight dirty." After that little speech I sat down. Casey was frozen in his place for a few seconds before shuffling back to his seat. I do believe that Amber heard me because I heard sniffles from the other side of the aisle, but I didn't look over to confirm.
I started out the hearing by speaking. "Mr. Westin, the request for an emergency hearing was made by Mrs. Miller, not by you, therefore you will have to let them go first," Judge Susan St. John chided me.
"Normally I would respect that, your honor, but I want something clear from the start. I don't want the fees she is paying to have three attorneys from the highest priced law firm in the city wasting her holdings so that when I get the 50% that I am entitled to that the amount has been greatly diminished. I want it understood from the start that it is her holdings as of Monday's date of service – not after she had retained Mr. Casey's law firm – that determines what the pie to be split is."
"Mr. Westin, you're getting way ahead of yourself here. I haven't even decided if there is any need for a divorce, so sit down and let Mr. Casey speak," the judge impatiently said.
I knew right then that the "fix" was in.
Casey made a heartfelt speech about how there was some misunderstanding and that Mrs. Miller had always been a good wife and economically supported her husband and was devastated by this turn of events, and that clearly the Court should not let the marriage dissolve without all attempts possible to save it, and that Mrs. Miller wanted the Court to order counselling and was willing to pay for it from her part of any division of assets that was made if the tragedy of divorce ever occurred.
The judge looked like she was ready to rule. "Wait," I impolitely yelled. "I haven't been heard."
"What is it, Mr. Westin," she impatiently said.
"I don't want counselling, I want out of this marriage, there is no one on earth that is going to convince me not to go through with this divorce; the only question is how much each of us gets. I don't agree to counseling so don't order it," words that an attorney that had to appear before her again would never use.
"I'm the one who makes decisions, not you Mr. Westin. I'm ordering six months of counseling Tuesday and Thursday afternoons, then we'll address the merits if there is any reason to at that time," she barked, and then she banged her gavel.
"Wait one second – I realize that this is a kangaroo court but I have something to say," I said jumping up.
"How dare you, Mr. Westin – do you want a contempt citation?" she snarled.
"If it keeps me out of counselling that would be great. One thing that you have not considered is that I am the DA of this fine city. I prosecute criminals at the behest of and for the protection of its citizens, including you, Mr. Casey, and my soon-to-be ex-wife. I can't make Tuesday and Thursday afternoon counseling sessions, and your own guidelines call for Saturday counseling for no more than two months, so you order is in violation of your own procedures," I got out before she interrupted.
"Those are only guidelines, and here more is necessary. You can work with your wife for a suitable schedule but she needs to agree to it," the judge snapped. "I'll hold you in contempt if you don't show up and have you arrested."
"Let there be no mistake. Now, talking as the DA, with the Court Reporter transcribing it, I hereby advise you and everyone else here or privy to the record that if any attorney in my office is arrested for failure to appear at a counseling session that isn't on a weekend or after two months of counseling have passed anyone associated with the arrest will themselves be arrested by the Metropolitan Police for obstruction of justice and my office will prosecute," I said in my most authoritative and snarky voice.
With that I collected my papers, got up, and turned to leave; as I did so I saw the absolutely shocked faces of everyone on the other side of the aisle. It looked like Casey was seconds away from a coronary; Amber was simply gap-jawed.
I had actually entered the aisle before Judge St. John yelled "Are you threatening me Mr. Westin?"
I replied, this time in a respectful tone, "No, I was just making the position of the Office of the DA in City X clear. Do I need to be here any longer?"
I could see steam coming out of her ears. I just stood there as she glared at me for a good half minute before she said "I'll issue my order today and it WILL be obeyed," then slammed her gavel down again and stormed out as the startled bailiff announced "Court's adjourned."
