Long before the first gavel ever came down in Courtroom Number Nine, the merits of the case were being hotly debated on the air, in newspapers and on every Sunday talk show. Some called it a veritable feast of fools. Across town, well heeled expensive public relations firms were oiling up their version of the truth in preparation for shaping the hearts and minds of the public who they saw as lost little doggies looking for their way. Who supported who was a veritable mishmash it was going to be the dogfight of the century and the PR boys and lawyers where already picking out summer homes. Two firms in particular, 2Snouts-a-Sniffing PR and Tail-Waggin Associates played important roles in shaping this debate. Both worked closely with Associations having access to deep pockets and who felt they had a dog in the race; they included well-known ones like the Firehouse Dog Association, Society of Big Dogs of America, Mail Carriers Union, Dog Food Preparers Union, Canned Meats Association (in partnership with) the Dry Dog Food Group. Like well trained animals they appeared on the Sunday talk shows spouting convincingly their version of the truth and spinning very clever arguments designed to convince even the average mongrel. It was slick and it was effective.
By far one of the most irritable actors in this high-stakes drama was the well known “shock-jock” from BYTE Radio whose persona “Yo Hound Dog Daddy!” was well known as his unmistakable brown shaggy curls drooping over his face and his sunglasses. Every show began and ended with a long wolf like howl. The wolf-dog brought every imaginable junkyard dog on his show letting them chew into the story. One dog went on to support Missy and was face to face with a biker dog in a leather vest. The guest eventually left the studio in tears. It was in your face radio at its finest, that is if you were Hound Dog Daddy.
Over at the Marrow Bone Restaurant on D Street, where the glaringly white starched napkins on tablecloths stood at attention, one could stop in for lunch or the cocktail hour and observe the dogs who frequented this particular high-powered canyon of lawyers, lobbyist, PR types, staffers from one branch or another, it was the great power mixing bowl and of course Louie and his legal team would usually go there for lunch to wine and dine a client or perhaps discuss business over a heaping bowl of bones in a thick marrow sauce; it was the restaurant’s signature sauce. Those who cruised this side of town were well dressed and even more well heeled. They were connected. A pat on the back, a sniff here a sniff there, a promise and a wink, it was all going down here one way or another. Louie and his team went through the day’s events and strategies for the next day. Of particular importance were the closing arguments and Louie had to be on top of his game. It was still difficult to tell about the jury, one moment they seemed convinced with Louie’s arguments then another moment it looked as if the found Dewey’s arguments equally compelling, if not more so! It was a question of balance and Louie just had to tip it in his favor. That’s all.
On the other side of town, at the Nose on Inn, it was a different scene, on Friday nights there was usually a local band, the Bad Dog Boys who were a local favorite. It was the sort of place where the beer was served incredibly cold because you wouldn’t dare serve it any other way, the scotch cheap because it was and the food came fast and fresh out of the microwaves. The Inn’s sandwiches were well known as being the tallest stacked sandwich at the cheapest price anywhere in town. All transactions were cash based because, as the sign read in the bathroom, “In God We Trust, All Others Pay Cash.” Dewey was well known here, he would show up usually late in the evenings with his usual overdose of aftershave, slug down a few scotches and hungrily survey the territory for a possible evening acquisition. The Nose on Inn was a favorite of the public safety and paramedic crowd, so you got a lot of German Shepard’s, Dobermans, Dalmatians, Huskies and not a small dog to be seen except for maybe what was served on a plate. It was here that Dewey and his boys would hold court and map out the next day’s events.
2. The Day of Reckoning
Before even the first hint of morning light, van after television van assembled one in front of the other surrounding the front entrance to the stately turn of the century courthouse. Setting up antennas and broadcasting dishes they looked like a mobile task force pre-positioning for a morning assault. Wire and sound technicians were scrambling laying hundreds of feet of wire all had to be in place and running smoothly before the gavel struck. Each station had their own version of jelled and sprayed duos including Vinn Tales and “Morganna” from television station WBRK. Both were reviewing their prepared notes, mumbling them as they walked around with their hair spray and makeup teams following anxiously behind should a wisp of hair get dislodged from the goo and decide to stray. Just back from a difficult assignment in the Bahamas, Vinn looked the very picture of fit, tan and ready. His wardrobe consultants had picked a tan suit, white button shirt and lime green and pink stripe tie to accent his island tan and appeal to his adoring fans. “Morganna” was a last minute addition since Vin’s on air partner had fallen sick. It was risky but WBRK management could not afford to do otherwise, there had to be balance!! “Morgana” was very good at what she did – the weather. She had come in from Atlanta and pretty much booted the peppy little Stormy Summers with her trade mark little red umbrella with yellow sunny smiles. Morgana looked as if she had been co-anchor from day one. Smooth, relaxed and quick as Vinn’s with the silly useless remarks on air about a news story. “In stunning reversal, man bites dog but first our lead story about a banana slip and what does it have to do with sore joints!!” Smile, little laughter, camera one and, fade…
It was going to be one of those classic summer days. The sun rose like a mass of burnt orange threatening to destroy everything in its path. By 8AM it was already 85 degrees with a chance of light rain. The humidity, not wanting to be out done was showing 90 degrees. The air hung over the city and the morning congestion with the cars belching fumes only added to an already toxic mix. By 9:00 AM a long line of placeholders, who were paid to do just that, were waiting in line until the courthouse doors opened at which time the deity took their rightful place in line. Security was clearly present for this event. Municipal law enforcement had been reinforced with Cop in the box were stationed at the front screening every bag and briefcase as each person walked through metal detectors. Two knives were apprehended as were several canisters of pepper spray, one flask of whiskey and more than a few little bottles of vodka. Despite a ban on bringing cameras or tape recording devices of any kind some found there way into court and streamed data to the various television and radio stations.
No sooner had they disappeared from view, a stretch white limousine pulled up to the curb. The swarm of TV crews, lights and cameras began a quick descent to meet Dewey who stepped out first in a black suit, black shirt and silver white tie. He turned and assisted Missy the one person who all social editors were hell bent of getting her story. This time her image consultants had opted for a pure white bridal look. All the pink had been washed out though one social editor cattily confided that she had seen a trace of pink exactly where it was never disclosed. Dewey acted as if he had all the time in the world and answered more than one question saying nothing but the giving the assembled press hungry for new, tidbits that only made them want to know more. The press appreciated Dewey because he fed them something to go with even if I was little or nothing if could be stretched into two minutes of air time. “We have just learned that the prosecution team plans to…more news and a look back at Mr. Dewey’s meteoric career from poor car salesman to prosecution attorney on one of the most sensational cases we have ever seen. Live from the courthouse steps this is Vinn Tales and I’m Morgana with more news and the weather at the top of the hour!”
Dog Days in Court, Part I -The Incident
Dog Days in Court, Part II -The Trial.
Next: Dog Days in Court, Part IV – Closing Arguments and the Verdict
Culinary Travels in France 