Book Review: Never Goodbye by Adam Mitzner
A Manhattan ADA, with PTSD from a personal tragedy, abandons her career, pursues her passion as a night club singer, climbs to near club stardom with her first composition "Never Goodbye", then gets pulled back in as special prosecutor. Her replacement ADA gets into a tryst with the boss who is murdered. It's a well-written humdrum of a whodunit, a bit over-cliched. "Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in!" - Michael Corleone.
The severe emotional transformation of one who precipitously gives up a stressful legal career, etches a relatively easy life with a non-living wage as a singer in a bar, then ever so eagerly steps back into white-hot limelight as an ill-prepared, out-of-focus prosecutor in a high profile, fast-tracked capital murder case, isn't convincingly developed.
The sparkling gem, a tour de force of the author's legal prowess, is found in the astute depiction of legal techniques as in those which may be found in cases currently foremost in the public eye, and in deliberations and dissections of the nuances and the letter of the law as applied to relevant contemporary legal issues, i.e. the battle between Apple and the federal government over the unlocking of iPhones -specifically the phone of Syed Farook, the San Bernardino shooter, the admissibility of text messages as evidence, judicial decisions under the dictate of stare decisis, and so forth.
The narrative is at times so scholarly, readers such as myself, may mark the Kindle version up with so many highlights it'd resemble one dogeared back in college, except digital.
"It's important that you not tell me anything that I haven't asked. I don't want you to taint me with information that makes a particular defense outside the ethical boundaries.... In other words, he is open to my committing perjury so long as he's not guilty of suborning it."
"Good. That, in a nutshell, is what makes your case triable: the age-old question of "why"."
"If you go on the Internet, you see all sorts of theories. Some articles claim that Farook's cell phone was cracked by freelance hackers. Others say that Cellebrite did it. The cost of the work is also hotly debated... the FBI director at the time said that it cost more than his entire salary for the remaining years of his tenure, which would be in excess of a million dollars... I know how we do it. And I know it isn't cheap, but it doesn't cost a million dollars either."
And then:
"This is indeed an interesting issue... as technology advances, the rules of evidence have to advance as well, or else they will become obsolete... Indeed, the text message at issue here is the lynchpin of the prosecution's case. So much so that excluding it from evidence could well result in a directed verdict, and double jeopardy having already attached, the prosecution would have no right to appeal my ruling. By contrast, admitting the text message will preserve this issue for the appellate courts to consider. Of course, that only occurs in the event of a guilty verdict, but if acquitted even with the admission of this text message, then ruling it admissible obviously had no prejudice to the defense. And so my ruling might be considered either Solomonic or cowardly, depending on your point of view. I will accept the text into evidence, and thereby preserve this issue for appellate review... I will, however, give the defense latitude to maintain its argument that someone other than the defendant could have authored those texts, and the jury is free to acquit on that basis."
Textbook perfect.
Same sex trysts may not appeal to everyone, and the legal gems are mostly in the last third of the book. And although the technique is put to good use, I'm not a big fan of alternating first person narratives. Nonetheless, a pleasure to read.
Review based on an advance reading copy presented by NetGalley and Thomas & Mercer.