【Episode 29 – A Trivial Lawsuit (6)】
On the day of the trial,
New York State Court.
“Your Honor.”
“Yes, counsel for the defendant?”
“Before the trial begins, I would like to file a motion to submit evidence that we were unable to present during the discovery procedure. It is the written statement of this case’s key witness, Samantha Chen!”
“Objection, Your Honor!”
Maxwell Donahue practically shouted, springing up from his seat.
All eyes in the courtroom, including the judge’s, turned to him.
It was partly because his voice was loud, but the main reason lay elsewhere.
At present, he was the plaintiff in his own case, not attending the courtroom as counsel. Yet he had shouted “Objection, Your Honor!” himself.
He seemed quite flustered.
“Counsel for both sides, please approach the bench.”
In American courts, there are times during a trial when a judge calls only the attorneys to where he is sitting (the bench).
Usually, this is done when the judge wishes to ask the lawyers how the situation is proceeding without leaving a record.
As expected, Judge Coldwell called me and Maxwell Donahue’s attorney to the bench.
“First, what is the evidence you are trying to submit, counsel for the defendant?”
“It is the written statement of Samantha Chen. Additionally, if you permit, I would like to file a motion to subpoena Samantha Chen as a witness.”
“Objection, Your Honor. We have not had discovery regarding the witness the defense is now—”
“Just a moment. I will hear the plaintiff’s opinion shortly. Who is Samantha Chen?”
“She is someone who dined with the plaintiff, Maxwell Donahue, at the restaurant operated by the defendant on the day of the incident.”
“What is the content of her statement? Ah, don’t tell me the content; tell me what relevance it has to this case.”
“It is crucial evidence capable of directly refuting the plaintiff’s claims and proving that this case is frivolous litigation.”
“Your Honor, this is trial by ambush. The plaintiff objects to the admission of this evidence.”
“No, Your Honor. Samantha Chen’s written statement was obtained after the plaintiff’s deposition.”
“In that case, you should have reopened the discovery procedure, Your Honor.”
“The trial date was suddenly moved up, leaving no time.”
“No time? Your Honor, that is not valid cause. If this court permits the defense’s motion to submit evidence, the plaintiff requests that their objection be entered into the trial record.”
“Hmm—.”
The judge let out a deep sigh at the opposing counsel’s forceful objection.
Then, after a moment, he looked at me and asked.
“Did you say you are currently a student?”
‘It worked!’
When Judge Coldwell looked at me and asked that question, I was certain our strategy had worked.
“Yes, I am a first-year student at NYU Law School.”
“And you’re taking this case pro bono?”
“Yes.”
“I suppose you are unfamiliar with litigation procedures because you are still a first-year. Discovery is extremely important not only in criminal cases but in civil cases as well. In situations like this, it is reasonable to request a reopening of discovery and disclose newly obtained evidence to the opposing party. Do you understand, Mr. Je?”
“I will keep that in mind.”
After saying that to me, Judge Coldwell looked at the plaintiff’s counsel and spoke.
“I will accept the defendant’s evidence and witness motion. However, I will postpone the trial date by two weeks and give the plaintiff’s side time to review. Any objections?”
There were objections.
However, there was nothing the plaintiff’s counsel could do.
***
“Whew—I was shaking when the judge called us to the bench earlier.”
“So, Heon, what did the judge say?”
After the trial date ended just as planned, we celebrated this small intermediate victory as if we had just completed a massive project.
Maxwell Donahue and his counsel approached us.
“You’ve learned the bad stuff first. Or is this how cowardly trials are conducted in Korea?”
“What is it you want to say?”
“I don’t know how you coaxed Samantha, but this trial won’t end like this.”
“It won’t end like this. It’s only just begun.”
“So arrogant… for a mere law school student….”
“I do not wish to speak with you any longer. I have nothing in particular to say. Contact us regarding any settlement offers through your attorney. Ah, if there is no settlement offer within one week, I will report you to the bar association.”
“Hmph, report? That’s funny. What are you going to report?”
“Mr. Donahue, if you are curious, look at the written statement we filed for submission today and the evidence attached to it. It’s the text messages exchanged between you and Samantha on the day of the incident.”
“What?”
Maxwell Donahue’s face stiffened as if he had seen the Grim Reaper.
Only then did he seem to remember that he had exchanged such a conversation with her that day. It was probably a trivial text exchanged without much thought.
If he had approached this case seriously, he would have checked meticulously and might have taken preventive measures beforehand.
But he had underestimated us far too much.
That was the cause of his defeat.
Exactly one week later, he conveyed his intent to settle through his attorney.
“We did it, Heon! We won!”
“Woohoo!”
“We should go report to Professor Mitchell.”
“Yes, I was planning to.”
“Let’s all go together.”
“Okay!”
“Okay, let’s go.”
“But, Heon, are you really going to counteroffer their settlement proposal at $7.1 million?”
“Yes.”
“Will the professor allow it?”
“That’s why I prepared this legal memo. A memo regarding the determination of settlement amounts.”
In the 1992 McDonald’s coffee burn case, the jury rendered a verdict ordering McDonald’s to pay $2,700,000 in punitive damages.
This figure had not come out of nowhere.
The plaintiff’s attorney, Reed Morgan, argued that McDonald’s was evading responsibility and acting oppressively as a large corporation toward a pitiful(?) plaintiff who had originally only demanded medical and nursing expenses, and requested two days’ worth of coffee sales from McDonald’s North American stores as punitive damages, which led to that verdict.
Maxwell Donahue claimed $7,100,000—the amount of the lawsuit he lost plus his own fee—along with $100,000 in medical expenses, arguing that he could have won if not for the burn on his tongue.
I thought carefully.
Then, what would be a reasonable settlement amount for the countersuit?
If things had proceeded as originally planned, I remembered that the owner of
However, that had been compensation for the material and emotional suffering endured over five years of litigation.
That could not be applied identically to the present.
But accepting the $90,000 settlement offered by the other side without a fight was out of the question; the scoundrel was too despicable.
So I researched diligently.
“Whose idea is this?”
After the trial date, Professor Alastair Mitchell had become very favorable toward us.
Whereas previously he had regarded us with equal parts expectation and doubt, after seeing us obtain Samantha Chen’s written statement and turn the tide of the trial, he seriously reviewed our litigation plan.
“It was Heon’s idea.”
“Fascinating. Very fascinating. It would have been a ludicrous claim in England, but since this is America, it might be possible. Since it’s a counteroffer for settlement anyway, I think it’s fine to proceed as is.”
“Understood! Then we will proceed as is.”
In 2005, a judge in an administrative court in Washington DC filed a $67,000,000 claim against a Korean-owned dry cleaner for losing his pants.
The case was dismissed on the grounds of frivolous litigation, and the judge in question was removed from office. Furthermore, his law license was suspended for 90 days.
Under Federal Rule of Civil Procedure 11, attorneys are prohibited from filing frivolous litigation.
There had been actual cases where violating this resulted in suspension of attorney qualifications or fines.
In this case, Maxwell Donahue had even given false testimony during his deposition.
I judged that it was a situation where disbarment was entirely possible.
Therefore, I thought that we could request his salary over the next ten years as punitive damages.
Coincidentally, that amount was the same as the amount he had claimed. $7,100,000.
That was why I had made the counteroffer in that amount.
“Heon, did you get the email? Did you see it? The counteroffer that came back at $3,500,000?”
If things went well, we might be able to receive $5,000,000 (without five years of suffering) as originally planned.
“Shall we counteroffer again at $5,000,000?”
A Star is Born
｢The next story is ‘trivial’ news.
But quite interesting.
‘$7.1 million over $9 soup.’
Last week, a very interesting case proceeded in a New York State court.
A Wall Street lawyer sued the restaurant that provided the food, claiming that he botched a trial that day because he burned his tongue on hot food, and the amount was a whopping $7.2 million.
They say it’s because the claim value of the botched trial was $7.2 million.
The restaurant claimed they had warned, “It’s hot, please be careful,” and argued that the lawsuit was frivolous litigation.
…
However, news has it that after the trial date, the plaintiff’s attorney dismissed the suit and proposed a $3.5 million settlement to the restaurant side.
Why did he do so?
The reason lies in the NYU Law School students who took this case pro bono and represented the restaurant owner.
For details, Kyle Sonya will report.
This is NSNBC News.｣