Killer Smile

“This doesn’t sound like ‘Night and Day’!” Mary shouted, covering her ears, but Judy segued into dancing like an Egyptian, boogying around the room.

“It’s ‘Dude Looks Like a Lady!’ Come on, get up and shake your booty!”

Mary scoffed, then reconsidered. She needed the exercise and she couldn’t work with all that noise anyway. She pushed back the laptop, got on her feet, kicked off her pumps, and shook her butt as hard as she could in a skirt from Brooks Brothers. And the rock music wasn’t bad at all. He was no Francis Albert, but Steven Tyler rocked!

Later, Mary became aware that Judy had fallen silent and she looked across the table. Judy was buckling her lower lip, eyeing what she’d written on her screen. Under the Stanford cap, her brow knit unhappily. Mary knew it wasn’t just fatigue. “What’s the matter, Jude?” she asked, setting down a warm Diet Coke.

Judy looked up. “I’m worried.”

“About what?”

“About you, about this.” Judy slid off her baseball cap, revealing a flat ring around her shorn blonde hair. She spiked it up with her hand, and Mary knew she was stalling, because she never cared about hat head. Judy cleared her throat. “Listen, let me say right out that I think it’s great that you put all this together, and figured out what that snake and his son did.”

“Thanks.”

“You went all the way to Montana, and I’m not denigrating that. I told you how cool that was.”

“Hold the positive reinforcement. Just give.”

Judy sighed. “But I’m not sure about this new idea of yours. I’m not sure it holds up to a standard cost-benefit analysis. Can I be your sounding board?”

“Of course.”

“Let’s review.” Judy straightened up. “Cost. Be

“True.”

“Cost. You probably need her permission to do it and you’re not asking.”

“Right.”

“Cost. She could fire you for it.”

“And the bad news?”

Judy smiled, but it faded quickly. “Cost, and worst cost of all, it could be really dangerous. Justin Saracone has a fortune to protect, and the power and means to come at you. Even if Chico’s out of the picture, Justin has the dough to hire somebody else. He’s a killer, Mare. Look at Keisha, she’s still in a coma.”

“I know.” Mary felt her stomach tense. She had called the hospital during the di

“Maybe, but it means it’s definitely dangerous.”

“Okay, it’s a little dangerous.”

“Or a lot.”

“Okay, a lot,” Mary admitted. Even though she felt a tremor of fear, she was determined, but she didn’t tell Judy about Mrs. Nyquist. It would be Mary’s replacement secret, because now she could fly with abandon.

“So, you would agree, there are costs to this idea of yours. Great big downside?”

“Me, dead. That can’t be good.”

Judy couldn’t manage a smile, which showed what a good friend she was. “Now we come to the benefits. I don’t mean to hurt your feelings, Mare, but I think you’re go

Ouch. “You do?”

“Yes. Honestly, it’s a high standard of proof at this stage of the game, and you don’t have much. I’ll buy that you have irreparable harm. The sale of rights to Reinhardt and the change in trademark would render Brandolini’s patent worthless, over time. But you can’t show you’ll win on the merits.”

“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 Giova

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 Giova

“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 Giova

Judy cocked an eyebrow. “You go

“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 Giova

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.”