(SCI-FI) Einstein’s General Theory of Relativity is concerned with the relationship between mass and energy. Einstein’s “Unified Field Theory” of Relativity tried to reconcile gravity and magnetism – two atomic forces about which absolutely nothing is known – with E=MC squared. Under pressure from the US Government, Einstein withdrew his groundbreaking “Unified Field Theory” Paper in 1928. Mass, energy, gravity and magnetism reconciled. Was it too close to Tesla’s “Aether”?
Part 2.
The next day I got a call from Jannett (no, not “Janet”, the girl’s name) Witherspoon, Esq. of the tony Westfield, NJ law firm Witherspoon, Grandall and Phipps. Witherspoon had inherited his law firm partnership – and just about everything else he had – from his father, Bertram Witherspoon III, a big Republican National Committee Chairman and cabinet officer (Secretary of the Interior) under President Eisenhower in the 1950s. The family was “old money”. I am “no money”. Why the Hell was he calling me?
I answered the phone fairly certain Witherspoon wasn’t going to invite me to a golf outing at WASP-y Echo Lake Country Club. Why? Because I didn’t golf. I only met him once before and was unimpressed. His phoney Boston-Jersey nasal whine was sounded like nails scraping across a chalkboard. He was a supercilious asshat.
“Counsellor!! So good to talk again with you!” He said, his voice dripping with insincerity. The last time I saw him was a year ago at a Union County Bar Association Civil Practice Committee meeting. He wore a stained, tasteless yellow tie and sucked down scotch like it was fruit juice.
“My client – The General – HA! HA! Inside joke, you know? General MOTORS, that is, has requested that I take over this distasteful WRECKSKI matter in Linden – know the case? Some kind of Domestic Violence matter amoung Polish people…..It seems the old man – WRECKSKI or RECKIE – Why I can’t pronounce these immigrant names AT ALL!!!
Anyway – Wrecksi has a General Motors legal plan and we’ve agreed to take him on – or, more to the point – we’ve agreed to defend his son, JOZEF……now you being Pro Bono Publico and all that – we’ll send you a Substitution of Attorney today and I’ll have someone drop by your office to collect your file, alright? I appreciate your cooperation…….”
I responded cautiously. Josef’s hurtful comment to me in the Parking Garage butt-hurt me – but not because I was pissed at the kid’s foul mouth. He seemed to be signalling me that something else was going on. I punted.
“Well, Counsellor, if my client agrees I’ll sign the Substitution of Attorney. But he’s the son of a covered GM employee – and he’s not obligated to take a work benefit flowing to his father unless he wants to. His father Tadek works for GM – Josef doesn’t. We’ll see what he says.”
There was an awkward silence on the other end of the line. Finally the imperious Blue-Blood said something. Rich in nasal faux Bostonian nasal whine, of course.
“Well…ER……of course!!! Handle it consistent with your attorney-client ethical obligations….by ALLLL means! We wouldn’t want you to come before the Union County Ethics Committee, now would we? You DO know, I’m this years’ Ethics Committee Chairman, don’t you?
Oh well!!! The LARGEST corporate taxpayer in your hometown, good ‘ole LINDEN, will be eterrrrnally grateful for your this teeeeney-weeenie accomodation. MAYBE, even, The General will put you on their roster of approved legal plan attorneys!!! HA! HA! Just kidding, OF COURSE!!!!! But one never knows, does one, how FAR a good deed can go in the corridors of corporate power…. I’ll be in touch, eh? TA TA!”
He hung up before I could say a befitting goodbye. I was being muscled out of a Pro Bono assignment I didn’t relish having in the first place. Ahh, shit… What the Hell did I care? Why get in the middle of some nonsense that was none of my business?? Then again…….
Even though Witherspoon’s nonsense about getting me on some approved attorneys list for General Motor’s Legal Plan was probably little more than flatulence, the fantasy of a guaranteed client pipeline stroked my ego. It was too good to be true under any circumstances for a backstreet lawyer like me. Still, first things first.
I had to run this development by Josef. Josef had to agree – under no duress or sense of pressure – to change lawyers. It was his show.
I’d speak to Josef soon enough; he’d agreed to “check in” every week or so. I learned the hard way that it was better to hear from a client too much than not at all. Mine was a typical inner-city law practice; my clients rarely had personal secretaries or anybody interested in passing along a message.
Hell, most of my clients barely had a consistent address let alone a dependable, working phone number. Burner cell phones were common and changed by the day. Addresses at The Swan Motel (“Short rates – by the hour – available!!!”) on Route 1 were also popular. My clients were the flotsam and jetsam of the Garden State. Jersey cutouts of Bruce Springsteen songs, burned-out, broken people choking on blue collar hopelessness.
Days turned into weeks. I was starting to wonder whether Josef had forgotten my number when another strange thing happened. One morning when I was at Union County Court House, Elizabeth – Superior Court of NJ – I got a text on my cell that some guy named Bill Smolenski wanted to meet me at UAW Union Hall about “signing me up” to do “legal work” for UAW Legal plans covering General Motors employees in Linden. Smolenski identified himself as UAW Local “Vice President and Benefits Coordinator”.
Lawyers, Guns and Money. Somebody was “annointing” me. Why?
Linden is a big General Motors town. What The General wanted in Linden, NJ, The General got. It was that simple. The biggest employer in town was the eight hundred pound gorilla – and it sat or shat wherever it wanted. And the UAW legal plan that all those GM employees belonged to paid good – real good. Hook your cart to that star and you had your ass in a tub of butter – a comfy hourly rate and sweet flow of dependable work. The UAW retained a cadre of “juiced” and well-connected law firms because GM told them who to keep and who to kick to the curb. Everybody in this daisy-chain was real cozy. The reason was simple.
Say you needed a lawyer to sue GM or one of their thousand affiliates in New Jersey. You want the heaviest hitter you can get. You find out who the biggest-penis-swingin’ He Bull lawyer is and have yourself a “consultation”. You spill the beans about your case – and await his “welcome aboard” handshake. But it doesn’t come.
In fact, his pimply law clerk shows you the door. Why? Their firm is already “on retainer” to General Motors and taking your case presents a conflict – an Ethics Violation. A lawyer cannot “Serve Two Masters”. Conclusion?
By signing up the best and the brightest lawyers on their roster of approved Counsel, General Motors takes entire law firms out of play.
Lawyers either kiss their corporate ass, do whatever GM says and get whatever amount of work GM considers adequate “largesse” – or they “sign you up” and let your firm rot on the vine. GM is like a water hose to ambulance-chasers wandering in a desert; some get water, some don’t. Who is naughty and who is nice? The General squeezes your pearls at will.
They disqualify you from representing anyone against them or their posse of companies by screaming Conflict!. They send you just enough work to keep you salivating for more. And make you reluctant to resign from their “honey pot” snare. They dangle their “Conflict” Sword of Damocles (the Lawyers’ Rules of Ethics) over your head.
Step outta’ line, they go after your law license. They’re always in control. The General giveth and The General taketh away. Lawyers on their lists are their bitches. And the lawyers know it, too – but are such whores by nature they can’t say no.
How does this work in the real world? Let’s say GM sends law firm “A” a few Workers Compensation cases a year to defend. Small potatoes. Billing that barely pays the salaries of the few junior associates that handle the matters – but positive cash flow for the law firm ledger sheet, nevertheless.
Then a person walks in with a real corker lawsuit against GM – say somebody with their head caved in by a defective Chevrolet engine part that exploded, rendering them a vegatable for life. A “gold ring” case worth millions that GM will have to pay for through their corporate ass (and the law firm representing Mr. Vegetable gets a third). But law firm “A” can’t take the case. Why?
Because law firm “A” already represents GM in those paltry Workers Compensation matters. It’s a “conflict”. Bingo. Law firm “A” is out of the running. No big payday, only peanuts. Mr. Vegatable has to retain lesser threatening law firm “B”, resulting in (you can bet) a smaller settlement payout for GM. Or maybe law firm “B” screws up the case so bad Mr. Vegetable gets nothing.
I had no interest in getting myself mired in General Motors intrigue and career quicksand – but figured I’d hear what Smolenski had to say. I answered his text and called him back.
Smolenski picked up after a few rings. He answered the phone barking a hard-charging “Bill Smolenski…how can I help- ya’…” A no-nonsense Linden bullshit artist who knew how to schmooze. I just identified myself and waited for him to react.
“How ya’ doin’ Counsellor!!! He opened his rap slick as duck shit.
“As you see, My name’s Smolenski – good ole’ Polish name!!! HEH, HEH!!! Now we got a little…situation here….an’ I was hopin’ you’d be able to stop by the Union Hall and me an’ you could straighten things out….what ya’ say??”
I took my time responding. Well now….he wanted me to come down the Union Hall – his turf – and straighten things out.…. how precious. I guess I finally arrived. My ship had come in. The GM Union was at long last ready for my brilliant legal talents. Even though I was about a mile upwind from the Kill Van Kull, that stretch of water separating NJ from Staten Island, I smelled fish. Still – it was worth a jaunt cross town to the Union Hall to see what the Hell was going on.
“Sure” I replied in a nonchalant a tone. “What time you have in mind?”
“Seven”. Mr. Slick enthusiastically puffed into the phone. He’d obviously just lit up another Marlboro, or whatever brand cancer-stick big deal Union guys smoked. “We’re right on Route 1 across from Linden Airport – can’t miss us….park right out front”.
“See you there” I said. I hung up quick. Whatever bullshit was going down I wanted it face to face, not buffered by distance.
I had a bunch of routine tasks to attend to for the rest of the afternoon. Bills to pay, phone calls to return. A Motion to Compel Grand Jury Testimony in an arson case I was defending for a real paying client (for a change). At about 6:45PM I found myself pulling up in front of the Linden, NJ UAW Union Hall on Route 1.
It was essentially a one-level cinder block shotgun shack. A positively stunning dark-haired beauty sat at a reception desk. When she got up to swipe me through the interior entry door I could see her ass was as delightful as her smile. Smolenski met me in a narrow hallway with his hand extended and a mouth full of professionally whitened teeth. His smile showed that the UAW dental plan was second to none. Even though he brandished a lit cigarette in his left hand, his choppers looked unstained by his bad habit. He had a ruddy complexion but a soft handshake.
Bill Smolenski was a below-average joe accustomed to letting the rank and file get their hands callused while he was tended to by cute receptionists. A true Union stooge.
“Come on in, Counsellor!!” He effused as he gestured towards a chair in his smoky office. I held my water and just looked bored until he got down to business.
“Look, Counsellor. The UAW always has the best interests of its workers sat heart….”
For the next forty-five minutes I sat deadpan through Smolenski’s recitation of Union history from Samuel Gompers through the 1937 Ford River Rouge strikes where Henry Ford unleashed bullets and clubs against his employees, killing some dead. The UAW was the sole bastion of defense against corporate greed and employee abuse in the auto industry, single-handedly fighting a brutal battle against the evil Republicans determined to reverse 100 years of hard-won Union victories in the manufacturing sector of the United States…….
Smolenski was a Bible-belt preacher for organized labor with a Jersey accent and a diamond pinky ring. Finally, he paused long enough to take a draw on his cigarette – it was a Marlboro, after all, by the looks of the crushed packs littering his desk top – and slurp his large Dunkin Donuts coffee. I seized the opportunity to open my mouth. My clock was ticking.
“Mr. Smolenski – just what the Hell am I doing here?” I asked in as conversationally business-friendly tone I could muster in the acrid, stale funk of the room.
“AHA!!” Smolenski snorted. “I KNEW that with a name like Vlchek, you’d be a man to get right to it – what is that name, anyway? Polish??”
“No. Czech.” I said.
“Czechs are great engineers, Man! Great engineers!” Smolenski finally got serious.
“Look, Counsellor. We got a situation…. You got a client who’s givin’ us a headache….real weird bird, too, if ya’ ask me. Some Machinist First Class named Kerecki – always dreamin’ up weird inventions on company time………”
“Korecki” I corrected him. “Korecki – with an O. I am Court-Appointed Counsel for his son, Josef in a criminal matter presently pending before the Linden Municipal Court. Depending on how the Municipal Judge rules in the next couple of weeks, the matter could be sent up to Superior Court of New Jersey in Elizabeth. That’s about all I can ethically say about the case to you at this time.”
Smolenski listened intently to my abbreviated summary of Josef’s legal problems, obviously wanting to continue the conversation.
“You know, Counsellor, Mr. Korecki has a legal representation benefit with GM as part of his UAW contract – and his kid really should be represented by one of our firms….how the Hell does it look to everybody else in the Union if a member doesn’t allow his kid to be defended by a mouthpiece on retainer to the Union Benefits program?
Smolenski paused and looked at me, his smiling face searching for some hint of accord or sympathy. I didn’t show any. This man disgusted me.
“Look, Counsellor…cut me some slack here! General Motors – I mean, er…the UAW would be real grateful if you could hand Josef Korecki’s file over to one of our big firms….How ’bout this? I arrange for you to be added to out list of approved attorneys??? Think of it!! Union clientelle – a solid work flow of cases – and our generous hourly rate!!! You’d be in FAT CITY!!!”
“Mr. Smolemski”, I replied – bristling at his in-your-face sales pitch and letting my voice signal as much. “I am Court-Appointed Counsel for Josef Korecki. A Court appointed me to this job. A Court has to relieve me of said job. I can’t just sign it over to anyone else – even if the mighty General wants another lawyer to represent Josef. And, frankly, Josef’s legal problems are none of General Motor’s Goddamned Business!”
I rested my case and stared back at the Union man. I could tell by the stink-eye Smolenski was giving me that he wasn’t pleased.
“I’ll tell you what,” I said, getting up on my feet to leave. “I’ll ask my client Josef if he wants to change Counsel. If he says yes, I’ll file a Motion before the Court for an Order to be Relieved of Counsel and whatever law firm General Motors – er, the UAW (I purposely tried to burn his ass with that fumble) – selects can seek to intervene and offer their services once I’m off the hook. That’s about all I’ll promise, ok? I’ll copy you on my Motion to be Relieved of Counsel if I file one at Josef’s direction”.
As I headed to his office door, I heard Smolenski bid me a not-so- fond farewell. As if on cue, the velvet-voiced Union cheerleader transformed into a Union thug.
“Best file that Motion, Counsellor….Keep your options open! Life can be brutal, ya’ know!”
I glanced back reflexively at the aggressiveness of Smolenski’s comment. He was twisted towards me in his office chair, face contorted and no longer friendly-schmoozie – but what really caught my eye was an ornate gold Orthodox cross that was dangling on a chain out of his open shirt collar.
It gleamed in the overhead flourescent lighting, showcasing three small but exquisite blue and yellow precious stones that almost leapt off of it. In a weird juxtaposition to this douchebag growling his hostile remark, the crucifix seemed almost alive – climbing free of its clothing restraints for a few moments like a child with its arms up streched up reaching for me. It seemed delicate, feminine even – out of place, for sure.
Smolenski was a Polish. Probably Roman Catholic. Why was he wearing an Russian Orthodox three-part cross? A Polish Roman Catholic would never do that. Odd. Real odd.
I kept walking. The sweet honey receptionist smiled at me as I bounded past her. She was obviously listening in and enjoyed hearing her boss being flipped-off. I could only imagine what kind of shit she had to deal with working with such a world-class A-hole.
I pulled out onto Route 1 South and headed towards Rahway, where I had to drop off some papers to a client. I didn’t drive five blocks, though, before I actually started talking to myself inside my empty Volkswagen.
“Why the Hell does GM want me to play ball on Korecki’s case so bad that they’d bring me on board their sacred list of “approved” Counsel? ” I’d heard stories of lawyers who’d actually handed envelopes of cash – fat envelopes – to UAW and GM executives for a place on that list and were still waiting years later….something definately wasn’t Kosher here.
END OF PART 2.
Copyright, Jon Croft 2020
