Category: The Law Is A Ass

The Law Is A Ass

Bob Ingersoll The Law Is A Ass #403

HAWKEYE’S TRIAL IS OFF THE MARKS, MAN

When is a murder not a murder? Give up? What say we find out.

It all started with Ulysses Cain. You remember Ulysses Cain, don’t you? Inhuman who can predict the future and caused the whole Civil War II imbroglio when Captain Marvel and Iron Man disagreed over how he should be used. Lord knows I remember him. In Civil War II #2, Ulysses predicted that Bruce Banner would become the Hulk again and go on a murderous rampage.

So in Civil War II #3, Captain Marvel, Iron Man, and more costumed heroes than you can shake a double-page spread at confronted Dr. Banner in his secret lab. You can probably guess from the fact that was only part three of a nine-part story, the confrontation didn’t go as planned.

While all the heroes except one were talking to Bruce outside his secret lab, the Beast went inside and hacked into Banner’s computers. He learned Banner was injecting “treated dead gamma cells” into himself. (Interesting biology note: a gamma cell is a cell in the pancreas that secretes pancreatic polypeptide. Somehow, I don’t think those would have had any inhibiting effect on the Hulk. I think Beast meant to say dead gamma-ray-irradiated cells, but he probably didn’t have enough space in the word balloon for all that.) When Maria Hill, director of S.H.I.E.L.D., heard that Dr. Banner was experimenting on himself, she placed him under arrest.

Which made Banner angry. And do we like Dr. Banner when he’s angry? Who know? No sooner had Banner raised his voice than an arrow struck him in the head. Killing him. (Civil War II is over-achieving. It’s met its “Someone Has To Die Or It’s Not An Official Cross-Over” quota twice now.) Then Hawkeye revealed himself as the shooter and gave himself up.

Hawkeye stood trial for murder; in a sequence that jumped back and forth in time between prosecution witnesses, defense witnesses, and flashbacks so often you’d think Quentin Tarantino was the court reporter. Hawkeye testified that Banner gave him a special arrowhead that Banner had designed; one that would kill the Hulk. Banner told Hawkeye, “If I ever Hulk out again, … I want you to use that.” Banner asked this of Hawkeye, because Hawkeye was one of the few people Banner knew who would be able to live with the choice.

Hawkeye also testified that his eyesight was more acute than most people’s eyesight. That’s what made him such a good archer. He saw Banner was agitated and that his eye flickered green. He knew Banner was about to Hulk out and shot the arrowhead. (Hawkeye saw a green flicker in Banner’s eye from his perch up in a tree that was more than one hundred yards from Banner? That isn’t just acute eyesight. That eyesight is better looking than a super-model.)

In Civil War II #4, the jury found Hawkeye not guilty. How did the jury reach that verdict and find Hawkeye’s murder not a murder? I think we can safely eliminate the persuasive powers of Henry Fonda. So what did sway the jury to vote not guilty? Let me count the ways.

One: the jurors believed Ulysses’s prediction that Banner was going to Hulk out and kill someone. So it found that Hawkeye acted in self-defense. Two: they could have found that because Banner asked Hawkeye to kill him it was a mercy killing. Three: they could have found that they didn’t care that Hawkeye was actually guilty, the world was better off without the Hulk and they weren’t going to punish Hawkeye for killing the Hulk. That last one would be what we call jury nullification; a jury finds the defendant not guilty despite the defendant’s actual guilt for some sympathy reason. Juries aren’t supposed to do that but some do. And when they do, it’s still a valid not guilty verdict even if the reason is invalid.

The jury could have found Hawkeye not guilty on any one of those theories. Or on any combination of those theories. Juries only have to be unanimous on their verdicts, not their reasons for the verdict. So if eight jurors believed self defense, three believed mercy killing, and one believed in jury nullification; it was still a valid verdict, because all twelve voted not guilty. Hell, a juror could even have found Hawkeye not guilty because the juror believed the costumes some artists forced Hawkeye to wear through the years was punishment enough.

So there you have it. When is a murder not a murder? When it’s self defense, a mercy killing, or a jury nullification. Of the fourth way, which is the way I think really applies here: a murder is also not a murder when the plot needs it not to be a murder.

The Law Is A Ass

The Law Is A Ass #402: CAPTAIN MARVEL’S EXCESSES ARE PREDICTABLE

“Bob, we need to talk.”

Those are normally not words I dread. I like a good conversation as well as the next guy and a good deal better, if the next guy happens to be Calvin Coolidge. But, as I studied the room full of people in front of me — family, friends, even editors — all trying desperately not to catch my eye, I knew this wasn’t going to be a good conversation.

“Is this an intervention?” I asked. I didn’t need an answer. Their expressions screamed: this is an intervention.

“We think you’re spending too much time on Civil War II.”

I’m spending too much time on it. The series ran for nine extra-sized issues, plus eighty-eight or so tie-ins in other comics. I’ve seen beached whale carcases that were less bloated.

“That’s seventy-nine or so issues to tell one story! Did you know Stan and Jack produced the first Inhumans and the first Galactus stories in only seven issues of Fantastic Four? Combined!

“And you’re complaining about a measly two columns!”

“But aren’t you about to write a third one?”

“Well, yes. We have Captain Marvel vol 9 #8 to deal with.”

I actually heard a collective sigh of “What now?” rise from the room full of interventionists.

Ulysses Cain, the Inhuman who can predict possible futures, made another one. A pulse of destructive energy was going to take out several blocks in Van Nuys, California. An explosion with an epicenter in the house of Stewart Cadwall, the former super villain named Thundersword.”

I looked up at a room full of stares as blank as the computer screen I had been staring at for hours. Many of the people here hadn’t even read the three — count ’em, three — comics from 1985 where Thundersword showed up. And as for the people in the room who had read those issues… Well, Thundersword was so obscure, I’m not even sure the people who wrote those comics remembered him.

“Stewart Cadwall was a failing Hollywood writer who became a super villain when the Beyonder imbued an award he won with powers. Cadwall used those powers to become Thundersword. He was captured sometime off-panel, made parole at some point, and hadn’t appeared since 1985. Until Ulysses sent Captain Marvel, Black Panther, and a cadre of SWAT police to Cadwall’s door. This was, as Captain Marvel described it, to bring Cadwall in, ‘by the book.’

“If, that is, the book is Mein Kampf.

“Captain Marvel’s team smashed in Cadwall’s door, searched his house, and found his old award. Cadwall had kept it, because it was the only thing he had to show he had ever been successful at something. Unbeknownst to him, the award was building up energy and was going to explode at some point.

“Yes, by keeping his former super-villain weapon, Cadwall was technically committing a parole violation. So, yes, Cadwall was guilty of something. But that still doesn’t justify Captain Marvel and her SWAT team breaking into Cadwall’s house and searching it without any warrant.

“At least, they never showed a warrant. But the prediction also said the explosion wouldn’t happen for several hours; plenty of time for Captain Marvel to obtain a warrant before going into Cadwall’s house. And as there was enough time for Captain Marvel to obtain a warrant, the Constitution required her to get one before she could enter or search a citizen’s house. If Captain Marvel acted without obtaining a warrant, she violated Cadwall’s constitutional rights and her team’s search and seizure was illegal.

“If they acted with a warrant, how did they get it? Would a prediction of a possible explosion give a judge enough probable cause that the judge could issue a search or an arrest warrant? I’m not sure it would.

“Anyway, Cadwall was arrested. But not to worry. In Captain Marvel vol 9 #10, another person stole Cadwall’s trophy from the evidence locker and used it to empower himself. When Cadwall helped Captain Marvel capture this new villain, she arranged for Cadwall’s parole violation to be dropped. She even let him keep his trophy. So it all went well for Stewart Cadwall.

“Which is more than we can say for Alison Green http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Alison_Green.”

I wasn’t surprised by the blank stares from everyone in the room this time. Alison Green wasn’t even an obscure villain everyone had a right to forget, she had never appeared before.

“In Civil War II #4

“See, that’s why we’re worried about you, Bob, you’re losing track of things. In your last column you talked about Civil War II # 2. Now you’re talking about # 4. What happened to Civil War II # 3?”

“Nothing happened to it. It came out before # 4, like it was supposed to. Oh, you mean what happened in # 3? Don’t worry, I’ll get to that.

“But in issue 4, Captain Marvel arrested Alison Green, a finance banker, because Ulysses predicted she was secretly a Hydra agent and was going to detonate a black hole bomb in the New York Stock Exchange. Captain Marvel reasoned this gave her the authority to hold Alison Green indefinitely so she could force a confession out of Alison.

“While Alison was in custody, S.H.I.E.L.D. investigated her. It found no ties between Alison and any terrorist organizations. Even the psychological screening S.H.I.E.L.D. put her through didn’t turn up and any connection to any suspicious organization. Nevertheless, Captain Marvel held Alison even though there was nothing suspicious about Alison.

“Well, Alison liked karaoke. That makes her suspicious in my book. But not in any law book. The law books might actually question whether Captain Marvel had the authority to hold Alison without charge forever.

“I’m not fully conversant with all of the provisions of the PATRIOT Act. I know it does say the government can hold an alien indefinitely, if it believes he or she may cause an act of terrorism, but I’ve never heard of a similar provision that applies to American citizens like Ms. Green.

“And, guess what? Turns out the prediction was wrong. Alison Green wasn’t a Hydra agent. Turns out the closest Ms. Green got to Hydra was a preference for Hydrox cookies. But she wasn’t any sort of a villain.

“Then.

“Now, Alison wanted revenge against Captain Marvel, so she’s taken to hiring super villains to cause problems for Captain Marvel and her friends. So, congrats, Captain Marvel, if the prediction about Alison does come true, it’s because you and your preemptive-strike predictive justice task force pushed her into becoming a Hydra agent.

“And that’s all I really had to say about Civil War II this week.”

“All? But you said you’d get to Civil War II # 3.”

“And I will get to it. Next week.”

Next week. Hey, maybe an intervention wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Bob Ingersoll: Captain Marvel Fails At Being Civil

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The Law Is A Ass Installment # 401

Despite Marvel’s claims about Captain Marvel being a human-Kree hybrid, she must really be an X-Man… because she certainly x-acerbated the whole Ulysses Cain problem.

Civil War II is a series about said the Inhuman Ulysses Cain and the problems he caused for the Marvel Universe. Ulysses, you see, was a seer; able to predict the future. He used mathematics to, “determine, to within a fraction of a percent, the probability that certain events are going to take place.” Kind of like Isaac Asimov’s psychohistory, only more refined. In Dr. Asimov’s Foundation series, Hari Seldon used psychohistory – a discipline that combined history, sociology, and statistical analysis – to make general projections about the future acts of very large groups of people. Ulysses’s brand of mathe-magic let him make specific projections about the future acts of specific people.

And why am I dragging the good Doctor into this? Foreshadowing. Psychohistory contains “psycho.” In comic books, has anything good ever come from something with psycho in its name? Or Civil War in the name, for that matter.

Iron Man overreacted to what Ulysses could do. Ulysses predicted that Thanos was going to invade. Captain Marvel heeded that prediction and sent a superhero team to Thanos’s predicted landing point, so heroes would already in place when Thanos put boots on the ground. Iron Man’s best friend, War Machine, died fighting Thanos. And the Shinola hit the fan. Iron Man kidnapped Ulysses and tortured him to find out how his powers worked. That’s how Iron Man overreacted.*

*(See last week’s column, Boisterous Bob.)

But let’s not spend all our time criticizing Iron Man. It’s not like Captain Marvel didn’t pull out the cooling rods on her own overreacter.

Captain Marvel saw Ulysses as having more potential than stopping random alien invaders. Ulysses could predict when people were about to commit crimes. Captain Marvel realized that if she acted on those predictions, she could “stop tragedies before they happen.”

So Captain Marvel went up to the people who were about to commit crimes and said to them, “Hey, I know you’re about to [insert whatever Ulysses predicted the person would do here]. Don’t do it. Because if it happens, I’m coming right back and arresting you.” Right?Unfortunately, no. That’s only a little onerous. Not nearly bad enough. Think bigger.

Captain Marvel assigned some superhero or government agent to follow the predictive baddie around very noticeably, until the time window for the prediction was over, to make sure the bad guy didn’t do whatever it was Ulysses predicted would happen? That might be a little sword of Damoclesian, but still not nearly authoritarian enough. Think even bigger.

What Captain Marvel did was…

Assembled the Cadets, a “predictive justice” task force composed of volunteers with “unique skill sets.” Then in Ms. Marvel Vol 4 # 8, put the Cadets under the supervision of Ms. Marvel. And not any of the first three Ms. Marvels, you know the adult versions. No Captain Marvel put the current Ms. Marvel in charge. The one who’s still in high school. What’s the matter, Captain Marvel, no supervisors in their terrible twos available?

And why did Captain Marvel think her Cadets needed a teenage mutant ninja babysitter? Well, as Captain Marvel put it, “Until we understand exactly how Ulysses’ powers work, [the Cadets] need to stay within the law.

In Ms. Marvel Vol 4 # 9, we learned exactly how Captain Marvel and her Cadets stayed within the law. By physically rounding up all the people Ulysses predicted would commit crimes and imprisoning them in a makeshift jail in Jersey City until the time frame for their predicted future crimes had passed.

That’s staying within the law the way a kid with a coloring book stays within the lines.

Captain Marvel was an operative of a defense agency which was overseen by a multi-national Board of Governors, so she was an operative of several governments, America included. For our purposes, how many governments doesn’t matter. Just as long as she was an operative of the American government. The government which is, itself, governed by the United States Constitution.

That Constitution says that when a government locks people up for something they haven’t done yet, it denies those people of their liberty without due process of law. The pre-crime detainees haven’t committed a crime yet so, obviously, they haven’t had a trial, let alone been convicted of anything. Nevertheless, they’re being imprisoned. It’s like that old Dostoevsky novel in reverse, Punishment and Crime. Or worse, punishment without crime.

By imprisoning people without due process of law, Captain Marvel was acting unlawfully. People who unlawfully restrain people aren’t the luckiest people. They’re criminals. After all, New Jersey may have been willing to look the other way over Snooki, but it actually has a law against false imprisonment.

So, good job of staying within the law, Captain Marvel. When you were a kid, did you keep secrets by saying, “Daddy, we didn’t go get ice cream today?”

Look, I know this sort of thing happened in the past. During World War II, thousands of Japanese Americans were interned without trial for fear of what they might do. But that was decades ago. Has anything like that has happened more recently? Guess I’ll have to Gitmo .

However, just because something that was wrong happened once before, or twice before – or probably more times than any of us really want to know about before – doesn’t mean it’s right for that same wrong to happen now. Two wrongs don’t make a right. Two 45̊ angles do.

And, yes, I know Captain Marvel had good intentions. Doesn’t matter. Because it wasn’t just Dostoevsky that got flopped. Captain Marvel’s road to good intentions was paved with hell.

The Law Is A Ass

Bob Ingersoll: The Law Is A Ass #400

IRON MAN FAILS AT BEING CIVIL

Well, I can’t put it off any longer no matter how hard I try. And believe me, I’ve tried. Since June of last year I’ve tried. But starting this series of columns – finally starting it – was one of my New Year’s resolutions and I’m writing this on Valentine’s Day. But there’s no putting it off any longer. I’ve got to write about…

Civil War II started in Civil War II #0, but we’re not talking about that issue. The zero issue was all prologue and introduction. I’ve seen fewer setups in a Volleyball match. Civil War II # 1’s where the action is.

Starting with the revelation that there’s a new Inhuman in town.  One named Ulysses whose Inhuman ability is to make predictions about the future. Dire predictions of the future, because where would the super hero story be if Ulysses was predicting sunshine, lollipops, and rainbows I don’t even think predicting somebody was going sleep on the subway, would cut it. (Jeez, when did I start channeling 60s on 6?)

Captain Marvel was delighted with this new weapon she could use to fight big, bad Marvel-style Big Bads. Iron Man, not so much. Iron Man didn’t know enough about Ulysses’s powers or agenda, so didn’t fully trust those predictions of the future. Actually, possible futures as Iron Man pointed out, because the Avengers stopped Ulysses’s first dire prediction — that the Celestial Destructor was going to invade — from happening in the slam-bang all-out action sequence that opened Civil War II # 1.

Iron Man’s problem with acting proactively to stop possible futures was, what if to stop a prediction from coming true, the Avengers had to do something bad? Like kill or imprison some people before they could sire a baby that Ulysses predicted was Hitler reincarnated. He had no problem with using Ulysses’s power to stop the Celestial Destructor from invading. That was an “easy call.” It was the potential Baby Hitler type thing that bothered him.

Iron Man didn’t think the Avengers should use Ulysses. Captain Marvel did. So she used him again. When Ulysses predicted that Thanos would raid Project P.E.G.A.S.U.S. to get a piece of the Cosmic Cube, Captain Marvel assembled a team to prevent… (What do you mean, prevent what? Weren’t you paying attention?)

During the battle against the Thanos, War Machine died. When Iron Man learned his best friend died in a battle to prevent one of Ulysses’s predicitons, Iron Man went more ballistic than one of his Repulsor Rays set on overload.

“You killed my best friend. You killed him as good as if you did it with your own hands.” Which was, you should pardon the neologism, alternative facts.

Captain Marvel didn’t kill War Machine, Thanos did. What did Iron Man want the Avengers and War Machine to do? Ignore the possibility that Thanos was determined to strike in the US and let him do it?

If Project P.E.G.A.S.U.S. called the Avengers after Thanos started his invasion, would Iron Man have had any problem scrambling heroes, up to and including War Machine, to stop Thanos? Of course not. So what was the problem with sending a group of heroes to Project P.E.G.A.S.U.S. before Thanos invaded, so they’d be ready and waiting just in case he did show up like Ulysses predicted?

Not only was Iron Man’s position vis-a-vis the Thanos invasion suspect, it wasn’t even intellectually honest. Hey, Iron Man, remember when you said that using Ulysses’s power to make sure a “big cosmic monster doesn’t invade,” was an “easy call?” What part of stopping a “big cosmic monster” doesn’t apply to Thanos? By my count, it’s none.

Iron Man shouldn’t have been any problem with Captain Marvel’s strategy, except for the fact that for the story to movie forward, it needed Iron Man to act all pissy. So Iron Man acted all pissy and stormed out of the whole comic.

All the way into Civil War II #2.

Where he decided he had to learn how Ulysses’s powers worked. So he flew into the Inhuman’s homc city of New Attilan, grabbed Ulysses, took him to an undisclosed location, tied him to chair, and subjected him to some painful tests to determine the workings of his powers. Reports differ as to whether Iron Man tortured Ulysses. Ulysses said yes. Iron Man said “a little bit.” Let’s just say Iron Man employed some enhanced investigation techniques.

So the man who was worried about Captain Marvel going too far had no problem with invading New Attilan and grabbing up a college student for the purposes of a “little bit” of torture. Iron Man’s standards have more doubles than Wimbledon.

In New York, restraining another person, like Ulysses, of his liberty and holding him in a secret location where he isn’t likely to be found is both unlawful imprisonment and kidnapping.  That’s two felonies from the guy who didn’t want Captain Marvel to go too far. Which, I suppose, is only fitting, Iron Man commited double crimes with his double standards.

During Marvel’s first Civil War, I thought Iron Man acted a little out of character. Now, in Civil War II, with his ends-justifiy-the-means attitude he’s not a little out of character; he’s another character entirely. I’m not sure who. I’m detecting hints of Lex Luthor with traces of Doctor Doom and just a whiff of DeSaad.

Now, I could be wrong about every one of those traces I thought I detected. I don’t exactly have a refined palate. But it’s good enough to know that what Iron Man did was unpalatable.

The Law Is A Ass

Bob Ingersoll: The Law Is A Ass #399

AS A LAWYER, RALPH BELLAMY WAS INDEFENSIBLE

It’s a good thing this story wasn’t part of the actual series. Otherwise we might not all be here right now.

I’m so old, I watched Perry Mason first run not on the reruns playing on every channel this side of C-SPAN. But it’s not why I became a lawyer. Perry Mason was unrealistic. A murder trial every week where the real murderer was dumb enough to sit in the courtroom and watch. No, Perry Mason didn’t make me want to become a lawyer. The Defenders did.

The Defenders was a show about a middle-aged attorney – played by E.G. Marshall – and his fresh-out-of-law-school son – played by a young, pre-permed Robert Reed. Although the show had some murder mystery episodes, most dealt with some of the complex and serious issues of the time; abortion, religious intolerance, capital punishment, civil rights, conscientious objectors… Come to think of it, those are still some of the complex and serious issues of the time.

I was young. I didn’t always understand The Defenders, but I liked it immensely. See for yourself, a DVD set of the first season is available from Shout! Factory.

The lawyers from The Defenders first appeared in a two-part episode of the anthology series Studio One in Hollywood called “The Defender.” Walter Preston (Ralph Bellamy) and son Kenneth (a young, and not-yet-needing-the-hell-toupée William Shatner) were defending Joseph Gordon (Steve McQueen), who was on trial for murdering a woman during a robbery. Father and son argued over how best to defend the man.

I knew about “The Defender” but had never seen it. Until I found it as a special feature on the aforementioned Shout! Factory DVD set. Now I have seen it.

And wish I hadn’t. Because it was stupid!

The actual pilot episode for The Defenders used the same basic story. The Prestons were representing a man accused of felony murder. Father thinks he’s guilty. Son doesn’t. They argue over how to defend him best. But The Defenders did the story much better.

How was it better? Well, let’s start with Walter Preston.

Wait! Actually, let’s start with the SPOILER WARNING! I’m about to reveal all the important plot points of “The Defender.” If you don’t want all the important plot points of “The Defender” revealed, you might want to stop reading. END OF SPOILER WARNING

Okay, now let’s start with Walter Preston. Walter was a jaded lawyer who took one look at his client and decided Gordon was guilty. Okay, that part’s not so stupid. Lawyers do that all the time. The stupid part was Walter decided his guilty client only deserved a competent defense but not one good enough that the jury might actually acquit him. Walter even refused to use the “guy” Kenneth found who might have been able to secure an acquittal.

Walter violated every legal ethic there is. And maybe even a few that aren’t but should be. Particularly the one requiring a lawyer to represent his client zealously. Walter was required to do everything he could to obtain a result that was in Gordon’s best interests instead of going through the motions with a defense that was just good enough to lose.

Kenneth, strangely enough, wanted to do the job properly and, you know, get Gordon acquitted. Kenneth was young, idealistic and didn’t understand the concept of being more jaded than a Chinese jewelry store. Kenneth even wanted to use the “guy. Walter didn’t. They argued. A lot!

Then Walter had a conversation with Francis Toohey, the prosecuting attorney played by a still-hirsute Martin Balsam. Toohey never cared whether defendants were guilty or innocent. They’d been indicted and Toohey was paid to get them convicted. So that’s what he did. Not caring whether some of them might actually be innocent was how he slept at night.

Toohey’s attitude angered Walter. It should also anger other prosecutors. See, the first ethical cannon for a prosecutor is that a prosecutor should seek justice, not convictions. If a prosecutor feels a defendant is not guilty, the prosecutor should not prosecute. And he shouldn’t not think about a defendant’s possible innocence, just so he can sleep at night.

Walter was so enraged he decided he should actually do his job and try for an acquittal. Toward that end he used the “guy.”

The state’s key witnesses were two eyewitnesses who testified they saw Gordon coming out of the victim’s apartment at the time of the murder. Nothing else connected Gordon to the crime. Maybe it was my legal training; my plotting experience from being a writer; or my many, many, many years of watching television clichés, but I knew who the “guy” was as soon as Kenneth mentioned him back in the First Act of Part One. I spent two hours waiting for a “surprise” conclusion I knew was coming since the first act. It was kind of like watching an M. Night Shyamalan movie, but with better directing.

You probably know who this “guy” was, too. But let’s play it out anyway. The show did.

Walter called the two eyewitnesses back to the stand and had them look at trial table. He asked them, “Are you sure this is the man you saw coming out of the apartment?” Both answered yes. Then Walter revealed the big Gotcha. The witnesses didn’t identify the defendant. Gordon was in the back of the courtroom. They identified this “guy” that Kenneth found who looked like Gordon and who they put at the defense table during some courtroom confusion to fool the eyewitnesses.

I had a few problems with this resolution. First the actor playing the “guy” looked nothing like Steve McQueen. When this episode aired, I was only 4 and I looked more like Steve McQueen. Neither witness should have been fooled into identifying the “guy” by mistake.

Second, Gordon never made bail. He was still in jail and was brought into the courtroom by guards and bailiffs. How did Walter and Kenneth swap Gordon out for the “guy” without any of the bailiffs or guards, who were supposed to be watching Gordon at all times, seeing what they did?

Third, what Walter was doing was so freakin’ obvious, both eyewitnesses should have seen through it and answered, “No that’s not the man I saw coming from the apartment. He’s in the back of the courtroom, where you tried to hide him.”

The case ended when the judge directed the jury to return a verdict of not guilty, because he found the eyewitness testimony to be unreliable. That probably wouldn’t happen in real life.

In real life, a judge would let the trial go to the jury first and see what it did with the case. If it came back not guilty, all was well. The judge wouldn’t have to look soft on crime by acquitting the defendant. If the jury returned a guilty verdict, then the judge could grant a motion for acquittal non obstante veredicto; a fancy Latin way of saying, I find the defendant not guilty notwithstanding the verdict, because the evidence wasn’t sufficient to support a conviction.

That’s the way it would probably have happened it real life. But I can’t blame the show for not going that route. This two-part drama that was full of legal inaccuracies and some outright silliness had already gone on long enough. This quick end to the story was its way of putting it out of our misery. Consider it mercy killing.

Come to think of it, mercy killing was another complex topic handled much better on The Defenders.

Bob Ingersoll Swears Before A Notorious Public The Show Was Dumb

The Law Is A Ass # 398

 

I just didn’t understand it. I was watching Notorious and Cary Grant wasn’t anywhere to be found. Ingrid Bergman either.

Then I remembered. I was watching Notorious, the new TV series about a high-end defense attorney and a high-powered TV news producer in LA teaming up during a high-profile murder trial. ABC ran Notorious in its revamped TGIT line-up. It wanted something like the Shonda Rhimes shows Grey’s Anatomy or How to Get Away With Murder but without the Rhimes or reason. Or the skill. Notorious wasn’t even as good as a Shonda Rhimes show and I haven’t been able to make it through one episode of any of her shows without looking for the Kevorkian machine.

In the first episode of Notorious, one of the clients of Jake Gregorian, the high-end defense attorney, had a problem. No, not the high-profile murder; this was B-plot client, Los Angeles Councilman Davis. Twelve years earlier Davis went to a sorority costume party as Bo Duke, complete with a Confederate flag T-shirt and Shane Newsome, the bartender from that party, had a picture of him. A picture that could make Davis look like a racist. Not to mention a lousy cosplayer. Although the General Lee had the Confederate Flag painted on its roof, but I don’t recall Bo Duke wearing anything other than that boring beige shirt.

Anyway, Newsome wanted capital to build an outdoor patio on his bar and offered to sell the picture to Davis for $100,000. (Seriously? Davis, as in Jefferson, and Newsome, sounds like nuisance? If these names were any more on the nose they could understudy for Cyrano de Bergerac.)

Gregorian had a meeting with Newsome and Newsome’s high-priced attorney Cassie; maybe not as high-priced as Gregorian, but I think we’re still talking the Neiman Marcus catalogue. Gregorian accused Newsome of extortion. Cassie said, and I quote, “No one’s extorting anyone. If Councilman Davis doesn’t want to purchase the photo, my client will simply offer it to the highest bidder. I’m sure TMZ will be interested.”

Let me get this straight. The lawyer’s argument was that if Davis didn’t give Newsome money, Newsome would sell the damaging photograph to TMZ so that it could make the photo public. And that wasn’t extortion?

I don’t know what law books Cassie studied, but the one I studied included California Penal Code § 518 and indicated what Newsome was doing was the very definition of extortion. CPC § 518 says extortion includes “obtaining of property of another, with his consent … induced by a wrongful use of … fear.” And CPC 518’s next door neighbor, CPC § 519, defines fear as “a threat … [t]o expose … [the victim] to … disgrace.” Put ’em all together and they don’t spell mother, they spell extortion is obtaining property from another by threatening to expose that person to disgrace.

Couching the act under words like selling the photograph to the person who wants to keep it a secret to keep it from being sold to a gossip show doesn’t change the act; act changes usually require an intermission. I can’t think of any prosecutor or judge who wouldn’t call what Newsome was doing extortion.

I also can’t think of any attorney who wouldn’t realize the same thing and that assisting Newsome in this enterprise would be aiding and abetting extortion. Any lawyer worth his or her salt – and I don’t care if it’s a high-priced lawyer, a not-so-high-priced lawyer, or one from the Dollar Store with only a McDonald’s packet worth of salt – would have advised Newsome don’t bother offering it to Davis with the media as the back-up threat. They’d say just offer the photo to the tabloids and let them get into a bidding war. Sure, you might not get as much money, but you know what else you might not get? An orange jumpsuit.

So did Davis Newsome get his money? Do you really want me to answer that? I mean, wouldn’t telling you that be a massive –

SPOILER ALERT!

– spoiler? Well, okay, since you asked so nicely, just don’t come around later complaining that I gave the ending away.

Of course Newsome didn’t get his money. If Gregorian couldn’t handle some petty criminal, how was he going to handle the high-profile murder case that was the A plot for the whole series?

Gregorian found a video of that sorority party. It showed Newsome serving liquor to minors. He provided the information to a police detective friend and the two of them braced Newsome. Newsome’s liquor license was up for review and Gregorian would be performing a public service by letting the Alcohol Beverage Control Board know that Newsome had a history of serving drinks to underaged drinkers.

Newsome folded quicker than a cheap roadmap. (Of course he did, those things are a bitch to fold.) He promised to destroy the photo. And the good guy, high-priced lawyer won the day.

Now before you ask me didn’t Gregorian commit extortion by threatening to reveal Newsome sold drinks to minors if Newsome didn’t destroy the photo, let me answer the question. No.

Remember, in California an extortionist has to obtain property. Gregorian didn’t obtain any property. He got Newsome to destroy the picture but didn’t actually obtain it. Gregorian probably committed some other crime with his little ploy; but it’s Christmas shopping season and I don’t have time to research what crime.

And so ended the B plot of the first episode of Notorious. Although the murder trial A plot continued on for the whole season, I didn’t bother sticking around to watch it play out. I watched the old Cary Grant-Ingrid Bergman movie instead. Based on Notorious’s 1.0 share ratings and the fact that ABC cut its episode order down to only ten episodes, I can only surmise the rest of the country would have preferred watching the movie, too.

The Law Is A Ass

Bob Ingersoll: The Law Is A Ass #397

HOMER SIMPSON’S NOT AN ABETTING MAN

I probably shouldn’t do this. But you know me. Even if you don’t, I know me. Know me well enough to know that, it doesn’t matter whether I should do it. Like the Mean Widdle Kid, I dood it.

(Boy, there’s a joke that you either won’t get or won’t want to admit you’re old enough to get.)

The Simpsons is a comedy show, satirical and not to be taken as an accurate portrayal of anything. The same applies to the comic books based on The Simpsons. Even if The Simpsons were supposed to be as realistic as a Rembrandt, their stories take place in Springfield, whose chief of police is Clancy Wiggum. Let’s face it, if Clancy’s the chief law-enforcement officer, then the laws he’s enforcing have probably been simplified so he can understand them. The Springfield law defining arson is probably, “Fire bad.”

So I can forgive the legal error contained in the story “In the Swim” from Simpsons Illustrated #24. But I can’t forget it. And I’m simply not going to not write about it. Hence what comes next.

In the story, Mr. Burns has invited all the employees of the Springfield nuclear power plant on a Family Fun Cruise. Turns out, however, that Burns was only throwing the party as a distraction while he illegally dumped the plant’s nuclear waste into the Springfield Channel. When Lisa Simpson pointed this out, Burns advised her not to tell anyone. “Remember, in the eyes of the law, everyone on this boat is an accomplice.”

And that’s all the set-up you need or get. Now it’s on to the meatier part of the column: the legal analysis.

So in the eyes of the law, would everyone on the boat be an accomplice to Mr. Burns’ illegal dumping?

No.

Okay, that analysis wasn’t so much meat as it was pink slime. Let’s see if I can’t get the meat content up to that of two all-beef patties hold the special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles, onions, and the sesame seed bun.

In the United States, the concept of aiding and abetting is fairly simple. Anyone who actually commits a crime is guilty as the principal offender. Anyone who aids, abets, counsels, commands, induces or procures its commission, is an aider and abettor (or accomplice) and is punishable as if that person were also a principal offender.

If I, for example, agree to drive the getaway car while you rob a liquor store, I’m helping you and am as guilty as you of the robbery, even though I didn’t actually rob it. See, that’s fairly simple. But it’s only half a beef patty. Let’s add more.

The aiding and abetting statutes also require that the accomplice be acting with the same kind of culpability as the principal offender. In other words, the accomplice has to know the principal offender is committing a crime and wants to help the principal offender commit it. So if I help you, but I don’t know you’re committing a crime, I’m not guilty as an accomplice.

In our previous example, if you ask me to pick you up in my car outside a liquor store, but I don’t know you’re robbing the store, I’m not aiding and abbetting your crime, even if I do drive your getaway car.

That principle applied to our story for a time. At first, no one knew what Mr. Burns was up to. And because they didn’t know what he was doing, they weren’t accomplices. Then Lisa Simpson had to spill the beans and tell everyone. So now that they do know what he was doing, are they accomplices to his dumping?

Ah another layer to the analysis. A little more beef. But the answer is the same as before. Even though everyone on the boat knew what Mr. Burns was doing after Lisa shot off her big mouth, no one other than Waylon Smithers. did anything to help him. They weren’t aiders and abettors, because they didn’t aid him.

The law actually has a name for this principle. We call it the Mere Presence Rule.

The Mere Presence Rule is kind of an oddity in the law, because it means exactly what it’s name implies. The rule dictates that if you are merely present when a crime is being committed, you are not guilty as an aider and abettor.

If you’re standing on a corner when that hypothetical criminal from a few paragraphs back robbed the liquor story, you’re not guilty as an aider and abettor, even if you didn’t do anything to stop him. As long as you didn’t do anything to help or encourage the criminal, you are not an aider and abettor.

If you were a passenger in the car while the robber went into the liquor store and then came out and drove away but did nothing to help him, you’re not guilty as an aider and abettor. Not even if you knew in advance that the other person was going to rob the liquor store. As long as you didn’t assist or encourage the robber, you’re not an aider and abettor.

Sure the law might question your decision not to get out of the car and tell someone what was going on when it stopped. (The law might also question your choice of friends. I mean, this friend of yours has robbed how many hypothetical liquor stores now?) However, the law does not require you to do anything to stop the crime; not even telling somebody else that it’s happening. The law only requires that you don’t do anything that actively assists or encourages the criminal.

Getting back to the Simpsons story, all of the nuclear power plant employees were merely present when Mr. Burns illegally dumped nuclear waste in the Springfield Canal. They didn’t do anything to encourage or assist him. They were too busy playing Limbo and drinking some yellow liquid with umbrellas in them. So Mr. Burns and the story were wrong to say that everyone on the boat was an accomplice to his illegal dumping.

Let’s face it, to be an accomplice Homer Simpson would actually have had to do something. And I don’t think he’s got any accomplice-ments to his credit.

The Law Is A Ass

BOB INGERSOLL: The Law Is A Ass #396

DAREDEVIL SHOULD KNOW THE LAWS OF TEXAS AREN’T UPON YOU

Either the Punisher’s even crazier than I thought he was – and he once gunned down some litterbugs because “littering is a crime against society,” so I don’t just think he’s as crazy as a bedbug; I think he’s what bedbugs point to when they talk about crazy – or Matt Murdock http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Matthew_Murdock_(Earth-616) is the worst lawyer of all time. Or both; they’re not mutually exclusive.

I wrote last time about the first issue of Daredevil/Punisher: Seventh Circle #1 . In that story Matt Murdock, assistant Manhattan district attorney and secret identity of super hero Daredevil, was trying to get the trial for a hated gangster, Sergey Antonov, changed to a new venue, because Antonov couldn’t get a fair trial in New York City. Fair enough, that happens. The venue Matt wanted was Texas. Not fair. Not even constitutional and it couldn’t happen. Like I said before, the Constitution commands that a criminal trial must take place in the state where the crime occurred.

What I didn’t tell you was that crazed ex-marine Frank Castle, who was so traumatized when he saw his family gunned down by mobsters that he adopted the name The Punisher and started a one-man war against crime, didn’t want Antonov moved to Texas. It wasn’t that Punisher wanted to keep Antonov in New York, because he didn’t want Antonov to have a fair trial; he didn’t want Antonov to have any trial. He wanted to kill Antonov before there was a trial.

Look, Frank, I realize your name implies that you’re not exactly a spare the rod – or gat or roscoe, or heater – kind of guy. But don’t you think killing a gangster who’s been arrested and is facing trial is a little excessive? If you wait for the trial to be over, he’ll get punished just fine. Meantime you can get on with your important work; like shooting jaywalkers.

So for the next four issues of this mini-series – or eight issues of it’s on-line presentation in Marvel’s Infinite Comics – Daredevil tried to keep Punisher from killing Antonov. Then, in issue #4 somewhere toward the end of their battle, Punisher told Daredevil that the only reason Matt wanted Antonov’s trial moved to Texas is because Texas is a death penalty state. Murdock wanted Antonov tried in Texas, because he wanted Antonov to be executed; something which couldn’t happen in New York because it hasn’t had the death penalty since 2004. And Daredevil, who is Matt Murdock under that horned masked and supposed to know the law, doesn’t deny Punisher’s claim.

So I guess it’s up to me.

Unless Matt knows less about the law than a drama major who scored a big fat 0 on the LSAT, he wouldn’t have been sending Antonov down to Texas to be executed. Because he’d know Antonov couldn’t be executed in Texas anymore than he could in New York.

Yes, I know Texas has the death penalty. Yes I know they use it in Texas. I even know they use it a lot. Doesn’t matter. They couldn’t use it against Antonov.

Let’s ignore what I wrote last time about how Matt couldn’t get the venue of Antonov’s trial changed from New York to Texas and pretend that Matt did get the trial transferred to Texas (try saying that ten times fast), what then? Well, you’d have the trial and, assuming Antonov was found guilty, the sentence. But you’re trying a man in Texas for a crime committed in New York, so whose laws would apply Texas’s or New York’s?

During that trial, the laws and procedures of the state where the crime was committed would apply, not the laws and procedures of the state where the trial was being held. So in Antonov’s trial, the laws of New York would apply, not the laws of Texas. Any defense that was available in the original venue – here New York – would be available in the new venue state – Texas – even if that defense didn’t exist in the new venue.

And what do the laws of New York say about the death penalty? You can probably guess, but seeing as how I’m a stickler for details in this column, I’ll stick to the details. In the 2004 case People v. LaValle, the New York Court of Appeals, the highest court in New York, ruled that the state’s death penalty violated the New York Constitution. That case abolished the death penalty in New York. Since then New York’s death penalty statute hasn’t been amended so the death penalty has never been reinstated. In fact in 2008, then Governor David Patterson issued an executive order that the state’s prisons should remove all their capital punishment equipment.

All of which means, as you probably guessed, New York doesn’t have the death penalty. In his trial, Antonov would argue that as New York, whose laws and defenses apply in the trial, doesn’t permit the death penalty, Texas would not be able to use it against him. Not only could he argue it, he would win the argument. Texas wouldn’t be able to fry him, hang him, inject him, or even chainsaw massacre him.

Unless Matt Murdock was the Dr. Nick Riviera of lawyers, he’d know that Texas couldn’t execute Antonov. Which means he wasn’t sending Antonov to Texas so that Texas could execute him. He was sending Antonov there for some other reason. Maybe Matt wanted to take a side trip to LBJ’s spittoon or the Yogi Bear statue or the Dr. Seuss park  or visit the house where they filmed the original The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, which has been turned into a restaurant – and that certainly isn’t in bad taste.

I don’t know what the reason is, but I do know one thing: It wasn’t so that Antonov could be executed. Or Texecuted. Or even wrapped up in a tortilla and – Hey, someone’s got to say it – Tex-Mexecuted.

Bob Ingersoll: Daredevil, Punisher and Where To Get A Fair Trial

 

The Law Is A Ass #395

daredevil_punisher_seventh_circle_infinite_comic_vol_1_1There’s an old joke I’m not going to repeat. It’s long; not very good; and, worst of all for a joke, not particularly funny. I bring it up because it’s punchline, “You can’t get there from here,” has a great bearing on the comic we’ll be discussing today.

What comic? My pun-ishing headline indicates, it’s a comic featuring Daredevil, Matt Murdock, and a change of venue in a trial. And that means it’s Daredevil/Punisher: Seventh Circle.

We learned in the first issue of this mini-series that there’s this gangster named Sergey Antonov, see, and he’s a bad man, see. How bad? Well, he didn’t shoot a man in Reno just to watch him die, but he poisoned a rival gang’s boss’s Christmas turkey just to get him out of the way. Unfortunately, the rival boss’s whole family was eating that turkey. Four generations – most of them innocents – died because of Antonov’s actions. That’s how bad.

Well, Antonov has been captured and is going to stand trial for his crimes. However, because “too many people hate [him]” in New York City, the District Attorney’s office feared it couldn’t get an impartial jury in New York City. So Assistant District Attorney Matt Murdock, moved for a change of venue. To Texas.

Which leads us to several points of discussion. First: what’s venue? To answer that I have to take us back to the time when we weren’t the United States but thirteen colonies under the British Empire. (Okay, I don’t have to, but I’m going to. How else can I show off all this historical knowledge I picked up in law school?) Back then, King George III had people who committed crimes in the colonies transported back to England for trial. The colonies didn’t like this. They even included it as one of their grievances with the Crown in the Declaration of Independence.

In order to prevent that from happening in the United States of America, the Founding Fathers put a clause in Article III of the United States Constitution requiring all criminal trials must be held within the state in which the crime was committed. But the Founding Fathers didn’t stop there. They also included a Vicinage Clause in the Sixth Amendment’s trial by jury provision dictating that the jury be composed of people who live within the state and district where the crime occurred. That district where the trial can be held, that’s the venue.

Killing four generations of one family with a Swift Botulismball Turkey would be a felony. Actually, it would be a lot of felonies; four generations worth of felonies. Felonies are tried in county courts in most states – Louisiana and Alaska have parishes and boroughs instead of counties – so for a felony trial in New York, the proper venue would be the county where the crime occurred. As Matt Murdock, who works for the District Attorney in Manhattan, is prosecuting the case, we’ll assume Antonov’s crimes occurred in the county that contains Manhattan; New York County.

Matt successfully moved to change the venue of Antonov’s upcoming trial, bringing up our second point of discussion: what’s a change of venue? Pretty much exactly what it sounds like. Sometimes a case is so highly publicized that it’s difficult to find people who haven’t heard about the case or formed an opinion about it before the trial started and the proper venue can’t assemble an unbiased jury. When that happens, the defense may seek a change of venue, so that the case can be tried in a different venue; one where the jury hasn’t heard about the case and isn’t biased.

In most states only the defendant can move for a change of venue. It is, after all, the defendant’s constitutional right to have the case tried in the venue where the crime occurred. And usually only the defendant may waive that right and seek to have the trial in a different venue. But NY Criminal Procedure Law § 231.20 specifically says that either the defendant or “the people,” i.e. the DA’s office, may move for a change of venue. So, having Matt Murdock ask for the change of venue wasn’t incorrect.

Having Matt Murdock request a change of venue to Texas, on the other hand…

And, yes, that is our third point of discussion.

Remember what I said earlier about Article III, dictating that a trial must be held within the state wherein the crime occurred. That means the only state that has jurisdiction to try a criminal case is the state where the crime occurred. Texas would have no subject matter jurisdiction over a crime committed in New York and a DA’s office could not ask that a New York criminal trial be transferred to Texas. The Constitution would permit changing the venue to some other county in New York. It would not permit changing the venue to some other state, like Texas.

There’s also no reason to move the trial to Texas. I’m a reasonably educated and well-read person but I’m up in Cleveland and I really couldn’t tell you much about the criminal goings on down in Cincinnati; except for this one noted case of vandalism involving a radio station and Thanksgiving turkeys. I don’t care how infamous Antonov’s crimes were in Manhattan, I can’t believe knowledge of his crimes was so wide-spread or pervasive that you couldn’t find twelve jurors in, say, Chautauqua County New York who hadn’t heard about or formed an opinion about the case.

For the record, I choose Chautauqua County because – check a map  – it’s about as far away from Manhattan geographically as you can get and still be in New York state, not because I think it’s provincial. I doubt they’re all that familiar with Manhattan’s crimes in, say, Jamestown or Celoron. Besides they’ve been a little preoccupied there with that “Scary Lucy” statue.

So why did the judge grant Matt’s unconstitutional request to move Antonov’s trail to Texas? I have no idea. We didn’t see the change of venue hearing or meet the judge, so I have no way of knowing why the judge did what the judge did. There could be a few reasons. Hell, considering Matt’s history of unethical behavior, we can’t even eliminate bribery.

Why did Matt Murdock choose the unconstitutional venue of Texas instead of the constitutional venue of Chautauqua County? That’s another story.

Literally. We found out why Matt chose Texas in Daredevil/Punisher: Seventh Circle # 4. And that’s another story. (Okay, it’s a later chapter in the same story but for the purposes of the joke that’s as good as another story.) And because it’s another story, it will also be another column.

Or, in the immortal tradition of comic books everywhere, to be law-tinued.

The Law Is A Ass

Bob Ingersoll: The Law Is A Ass #394

MR. McDUCK SCROOGED HIS COURAGE TO THE TRICKING PLACE

All of Scrooge McDuck’s arch-nemesees … Nemesissies… Numismatists? All the dastardly deed doers of Duckburg teamed up to take down Uncle Scrooge. Flintheart Glomgold, John D. Rockerduck, Magica De Spell, and the Beagle Boys all working together. Over the course of Uncle Scrooge # 13 and 14, they actually managed, working together, to do what none of them had ever been able to do alone. They got everything from Scrooge. His property, his businesses, his three cubic acres of money, his money bin, his number one dime. Even his stake in the lawsuit he filed against some johnny-come-lately named Ebeneezer. Scrooge was broke, destitute, well off from being well-off even.

But that was issues 13 and 14. The first two parts of a four-part story. Issue 14  saw Magica run off with all three cubic acres of Scrooge’s case and in issue 15, Scrooge reacquired it from her. Scrooge had physical possession of the cash, but he didn’t have title to it or anything else he had once owned. Then came issue 16, the fourth-part of the four-part story and guess what?

If you guessed Scrooge gets everything back you’d be…

3378851

Well, let’s see.

Scrooge convinced Rockerduck that Scrooge had died by having Donald give a fake interview about Scrooge disappearing while on a quest to rebuild his fortune. Then Scrooge pretended to be his own ghost and convinced Rockerduck that he shouldn’t trust Glomgold and that to protect himself, he should bring in a third partner. Someone so rich he’d be on equal financial footing with, and able to stand up to, Glomgold. Scrooge suggested Rockerduck sell all rights, shares, and deeds to Scrooge’s old companies to the Pasha of Pushbak.

The next day, Rockerduck prepared a contract of sale and sold it all to the Pasha. He also signed a confidentiality agreement prepared by the Pasha’s grand vizier.

Except that it wasn’t the Pasha of Pushbak. It was Jubal Pomp, a con artist who had once posed as the Pasha of Pushbak to try to swindle Scrooge. Now he was working with Scrooge, who was disguised as the “Pasha’s’ grand vizier to fool Rockerduck.

The next day, Scrooge showed up to lay claim to his newly-restored property. Naturally Glomgold doubted him, until Scrooge showed him a transference agreement signed by Rockerduck returning “everything back to me.” Then Scrooge showed Glomgold that the Beagle Boys, whom Glomgold had tried to have killed earlier in the story, were still alive (Scrooge and Donald having saved them) and were willing to go public about all the crimes Glomgold committed in his anti-Scrooge plan. Scrooge promised not to press charges, if Glomgold sold him back “everything you stole” for one dollar. Glomgold agreed.

And so, victorious once more, Scrooge got…

Nothing actually.

Scrooge’s whole plan was predicated on his getting title to his property back when Rockerduck sold his shares of Scrooge’s property to the Pasha of Pushbak. Unfortunately, he didn’t get title to anything from that transaction.

Don’t tell me, sure he did, right there on pages 14, 15, and 16 of the story. I know what’s in the story. But I also know what’s in the law books. And I tell you with confidence, Scrooge didn’t get quack spit from that Pasha of Pushbak transaction.

Rockerduck prepared his agreement transferring his share of the property to the Pasha of Pushbak. I doubt very much that when he prepared this document Rockerduck mistakenly inserted Scrooge McDuck’s name for that of the Pasha. Rockerduck may be an idiot, but he has too much ego to be that id-iotic. It stands to reason, therefore, that the contract Rockerduck drafted sold Scrooge’s former property to the Pasha and didn’t sell anything back to Scrooge. So what was the transfer document that Scrooge showed Glomgold.

It was exactly what Scrooge said it was. It was a document that transferred everything back to Scrooge. And it was signed by Rockerduck. But it wasn’t the one Rockerduck prepared. It was one Scrooge prepared.

It was the confidentially agreement that the Pasha had Rockerduck sign, which wasn’t actually a confidentially agreement but a contract that transferred everything back to Scrooge. Apparently Rockerduck got into some bad habits by signing his iTunes without reading them, and signed this “confidentiality agreement” without reading it. Scrooge even crowed that “Rockerduck doesn’t even know what he signed.” See, I told you Rockerduck was an idiot.

But the “confidentiality agreement” didn’t transfer anything, because it wasn’t legally enforceable. Rockerduck signed it, because he was told it was a confidentiality agreement. He didn’t know it was a transfer of property document, because Scrooge lied about what it was. That was fraud in the inducement. As Rockerduck didn’t sign what he thought he was signing, there was no meeting of the minds between him and Scrooge. The transfer agreement was null and void and Rockerduck still owned everything he was tricked into transferring to Scrooge.

Scrooge can’t even say that Rockerduck transferred his property to the Pasha of Pushbak under the contract that Rockerduck prepared and that the Pasha then transferred that property to Scrooge. The contract between Rockerduck and the Pasha was just as unenforceable as the “confidentiality agreement” was for the same reason. Fraud in the inducement. Rockerduck thought he was selling something to the Pasha. He wasn’t. He was selling it to a con man disguised as the Pasha. There was no meeting of the minds between Rockerduck and the Pasha, because there was no Pasha.

Of course, I don’t think there could have been a meeting of the minds between Scrooge and Rockerduck under any circumstances. If Rockerduck was stupid enough to fall for Scrooge’s ridiculous scheme, he didn’t have much of a mind to begin with.