“Doctor Esklund!”
“Sir?”
“What is your business with this court? Are you a principal to any of the issues before it?”
“Well, not in so many words, your honor. In a broader sense, I am advocate for all mankind. The society of which I have the honor. . .”
“Do you have any business? A petition, perhaps?”
“Yes,” Esklund answered sullenly, “I have a petition.”
“Produce it.”
Esklund fumbled among his papers, drew out one; it was passed to Greenberg, who did not look at it. “Now state briefly, for the record, the nature of your petition. Speak clearly and toward the nearest microphone.”
“Well. . . may it please the court: the society of which I have the honor of being an officer. . . a league, if I may so say, embracing all mankind, prays. . . nay, demands that this unearthly beast which has already ravaged this fair community be destroyed. Such destruction is sanctioned and, yes, commanded by those sacred-”
“Is that your petition? You want this court to order the destruction of the e.-t. known as Lummox?”
“Yes, but more than that, I have here a careful documentation of the arguments. . . unanswerable arguments I may say, to. . .”
“Just a moment. That word ‘demands’ which you used; does it appear in the petition?”
“No, your honor, that came from my heart, from the fullness of. . .”
“Your heart has just led you into contempt. Do you wish to rephrase it?”
Esklund stared, then said grudgingly, “I withdraw the word. No contempt was intended.”
“Very well. The petition is received; the clerk will record it. Decision later. Now as to that speech you wished to make: from the size of your manuscript I surmise that you will require about two hours?”
“I believe that will be ample, your honor,” Eskiund answered, somewhat mollified.
“Good. Bailiff!”
“Your honor?”
“Can you dig up a soap box?”
“Why, I believe so, sir.”
“Excellent. Place it on the lawn outside. Doctor Esklund, everyone of us enjoys free speech . . . so enjoy yourself. That soap box is yours for the next two hours.”
Dr. Esklund turned the color of eggplant. “You’ll hear from us!”
“No doubt.”
“We know your sort! Traitors to mankind. Renegades! Trifling with. . .”
“Remove him.”
The bailiff did so, grinning. One of the reporters followed them out. Greenberg said gently, “We seem to have trimmed it down to inclispensables now. We have several issues before us, but they have in common the same sheaf of facts. Unless there is objection, we will hear testimony for all issues together, then pass on the issues one at a time. Objection?”
The lawyers looked at each other. Finally Mr. Ito’s attorney said, “Your honor, it would seem to me to be fairer to try them one at a time.”
“Possibly. But if we do, we’ll be here until Christmas. I dislike to make so many busy people go over the same ground repeatedly. But a separate trial of the facts to a jury is your privilege. . . bearing in mind, if you lose, your principal will have to bear the added costs alone.”
Mr. Ito’s son tugged at the sleeve of the lawyer and whispered to him. The lawyer nodded and said, “We’ll go along with a joint hearing. . . as to facts.”
“Very well. Further objection?” There was none. Greenberg turned to O’Farrell. “Judge, is this room equipped with truth meters?”
“Eh? Why, yes. I hardly ever use them.”
“I like them.” He turned to the others. “Truth meters will be hooked up. No one is required to use one, but anyone choosing not to will be sworn. This court, as is its privilege, will take judicial notice of and will comment on the fact if anyone refuses the use of a truth meter.”
John Thomas whispered to Betty, “Watch your step, Slugger.”
She whispered back, “I will, smarty! You watch yours.” Judge O’Farrell said to Greenberg, “It will take some time to rig them. Hadn’t we better break for lunch?”
“Oh yes, lunch. Attention, everyone. . . this court does not recess for lunch. I’ll ask the bailiff to take orders for coffee and sandwiches, or whatever you like while the clerk is rigging the meters. We will eat here at the table. In the meantime. . .” Greenberg fumbled for cigarettes, fumbled again. “. . . has anybody got a match?”