The Runaway Jury: A Novel
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They are at the center of a multimillion-dollar legal hurricane: twelve men and women who have been investigated, watched, manipulated, and harassed by high-priced lawyers and consultants who will stop at nothing to secure a verdict. Now the jury must make a decision in the most explosive civil trial of the century, a precedent-setting lawsuit against a giant tobacco company. But only a handful of people know the truth: that this jury has a leader, and the verdict belongs to him.
He is known only as Juror #2. But he has a name, a past, and he has planned his every move with the help of a beautiful woman on the outside. Now, while a corporate empire hangs in the balance, while a grieving family waits, and while lawyers are plunged into a battle for their careers, the truth about Juror #2 is about to explode in a cross fire of greed and corruption—and with justice fighting for its life.
wanted. He smoked because he liked to. He played tennis four times a week and his annual physical revealed nothing to worry about. Seated one row behind Taunton was Derrick Maples, making his first appearance at the trial. He’d left the motel just minutes after the bus, and had planned to spend the day looking for work. Now, he was dreaming of an easy payday. Angel saw him, but kept her eyes on Jankle. Derrick’s sudden interest in the trial was baffling. He’d done nothing but complain since
Mr. Herrera,” His Honor said, and the lawyers said nothing. Herrera was brought back into the room and directed to the same chair. “On the record,” Judge Harkin said to the court reporter. “Mr. Herrera, what is your room number at the Siesta Inn?” “50.” “These items were found under the bed in Room 50 just minutes ago.” Harkin waved at the periodicals. “All are recent, most are dated after the date of sequestration.” Herrera was dumbfounded. “All, of course, are unauthorized, some are highly
want to hear every word.” He punched a button and a recorder started. They painstakingly collaborated on the narrative until they’d recollected virtually all of it. Fitch dismissed them and sent them back to Washington. Alone, he dimmed the lights in his office and sulked in the darkness. Hoppy would tell Millie tonight. Millie would be lost as a defense juror; in fact, she’d probably swing so far to the other side she’d want billions in damages for the poor widow Wood. Marlee could salvage
larger lens and clearer picture. It was locked in the same briefcase and placed under the same table, and no one in the busy courtroom had a clue. No Pledge of Allegiance, nothing out of the ordinary, but then Fitch had expected this. Surely Marlee would’ve called if something special was planned. He listened as Dr. Hilo Kilvan resumed his testimony, and almost smiled to himself as the jurors seemed to dread it. His consultants and his lawyers were unanimous in the belief that the plaintiff’s
“There was a secret study in the late 1930s, paid for by a tobacco company, and the result was clear proof that the nicotine in cigarettes is addictive.” “Have you seen this report?” “No. As you might guess, it has been well concealed.” Krigler paused and looked at the defense table. The bombshell was coming, and he was thoroughly enjoying the moment. “But I saw a memo—” “Objection!” Cable shouted as he rose. “This witness cannot state what he may or may not have seen in a written document.