One of the best busman’s holidays available right now is former American Association for Justice (then American Trial Lawyers Association) President Robert Begam’s new novel, Long Life? A Courtroom Thriller. Of course, a skilled civil litigator like Begam would refer to this as a “busperson’s” holiday, because he’d be mindful of any sexist impact on his jury of readers.
Begam displays his many years of trial experience. The story progresses logically from incident to case intake to discovery to witness prep to depositions to voir dire to trial. It’s the second subhead on the book’s cover - Journey into the Unknown World of Cryonics - that triggers your interest, and when someone is placed into pre-mortem cryonic suspension just a few pages in, you realize that while there may be a trial in this book, reading about it will certainly be no trial at all. Begam’s writing is accessible and conversational and occasionally displays a dry wit.
The unsubtly named Omega Terrace, a cryonics center in a wealthy Arizona suburb, offers rich people in ill health the chance to have their bodies “suspended” with cryonics for future reanimation. It’s a low-key operation until Omega’s medical director, Dr. Rebecca Adler, places a young HIV sufferer into suspension before his physical death.
The county attorney’s office gets tipped off and charges her with murder, which can carry the death penalty in Arizona. The attorney who takes her case presents a quick case theme up front: “This will be the first murder case in which there’s only one real issue .... Is the victim dead?”
That attorney, Joe Purcell, is a trial lawyer, of course. He works for the famed firm of A&P and got the first billion-dollar verdict in an accident case. “The verdict led to a mandatory safety retrofit that cost the industry several billion more.... That’s the sort of case that A&P are famous for, a case in which there are overriding issues, the environment, civil rights, pollution, that sort of thing,” a character helpfully explains.
After Joe takes the case, he calls in his mentor, Max Aranow, an elderly attorney who’s Jewish down to his pastrami sandwiches and celery tonic but can be forgiven for his stereotypical facets. There’s also a trial team composed of other suitable stereotypes, including one lawyer who chases anything in a skirt and another who dresses only in sports memorabilia. There’s a DA and his female assistant prosecutor, a quirky judge, an attractive court reporter, and several wise guys always ready with a quip.
Begam hits all the buzzwords, including “junk science,” and he does a little name-dropping for cronies who’ve been in the business as long as he has. Max Aranow manages to work in a reminiscence about hanging out with Teddy Koskoff (the real-life former ATLA president) in Connecticut.
The author clearly enjoys telling his tale and sharing the trial tips and techniques he’s learned along the way.
He’s happy to tell the reader who didn’t go to law school why so much work goes into litigation. He describes witness interviews: “[T]he process continued in both camps, day and night, throughout the rainy weekend. Witness after witness. Who would fold on cross? Who would say the right things but would lose the jury because his testimony was too technical, or his presentation too pedantic? Who added an important fact but was a loose cannon and could kill them if he went out of control?”
The detailed trial fills half the book and the tips continue: Begam can’t help it. Max the mentor grumbles, “In the old days we didn’t have jury consultants and psychologists and body language interpreters and these fuhkakta questionnaires.” Then modern lawyer Joe selects a great potential juror because she’s a Democrat, doesn’t belong to any church, loves watching Star Trek on TV, doesn’t drink and jogs. “She’s a sci-fi liberal who is health conscious,” he explains.
Max is quick to point out the flaw in his thinking: Her husband is an insurance broker. “Tell me how much life insurance he’s going to sell if everyone lives forever,” Max says to Joe.
I won’t disclose the ending, though I was somewhat upset at the final scene. I will say that this book tracks a lawyer’s daily trials and tribulations, but it provides a holiday from having to solve them yourself.
Reprinted with permission of TRIAL (July 2009)
Copyright American Association for Justice, formerly Association of Trial Lawyers of America (ATLA®)