Cops and Courts

As the weeks and months drag on, all those involved in the W.R. Grace trial are beginning to feel tapped out – the judge, the jury, the lawyers, the daily courtroom observers, and even us reporters. We’re physically and emotionally taxed, and the microbes living in the ring around my collar are starting to get organized.

I’ve also been having way too many Grace-induced dreams, which all play out like a Fellini movie, but are populated by various courtroom characters. Last night, I found myself in a dimly-lit parking garage, perhaps searching for some sage advice from a Deep Throat, but I wound up having a bubble-gun fight with defense lawyer David Bernick. Go figure.

At the same time, the sheer length of the trial has created a sort of cohesive bond, a fellowship that transcends partisanship and factionalism. This was never more evident than today.

Early in the morning, Assistant U.S. Attorney Kris McLean moved to dismiss charges against defendant William McCaig, who, on his courtroom exodus, bade the prosecution team a fond farewell with handshakes all around.

The jubilation continued throughout the day, during recesses in the court proceedings, and at one point defense lawyer Carolyn Kubota even placed a hand on McLean’s shoulder and made a patting motion. Both lawyers smiled, chuckled and exchanged pleasantries that I couldn’t quite make out.

In the evening, Judge Molloy excused the jurors and the lawyers until Tuesday, and everyone expects deliberations to begin by next Friday.  Out-of-town lawyers are only too happy to go home to their respective metropolises and decompress for a few days, while local counsel will take advantage of this weekend’s spring weather.

But just because folks in the courtroom are breathing a sigh of relief doesn’t mean we should forget that scores of people in Libby are gasping for air – and growing less confident every day that Grace will be held criminally accountable for their suffocating.

Of course, as we all saw in the classic film “12 Angry Men,” anything can happen when a group of people gather in a room and start confabbing about a case that began nine weeks earlier, debating evidence and testimony for the very first time over soggy pizza.

Whatever the outcome, let’s not forget about Libby. It just wouldn’t be right.

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