Christopher Harder: Through the legal looking glass

By BERNARD BROWN

Welcome to the world of hyper-active lawyering. This is one where our hero dashes from the Court of Appeal at Wellington to a Big Brief in Washington DC and, amidst the tricky lobbying, chances on a breakfasting reunion of Rainbow Warrior bombers - yes, wigs and all.

Back home it's the world of the dominatrix and the cricket umpire, of digging for a corpse in the Waitakeres, and of a child molestation case that, frankly, wasn't. Then a dash up north to mediate a land dispute, and off to Tuhoe country into a vivid local drama (and the bonus - retrieval of a missing McCahon).

Auckland again and K Rd punters, armed robberies, some triad warfare, off to Rabuka's Fiji coup and a taste of jail there, a quick flight home, more homicide and affidavits, hung juries and "differences" with the police (frequently), with seasoned prosecutors, and (occasionally) with judges.

Most lawyers, even the courtroom wizards, wouldn't recognise this world as theirs. But it is the life, or looking glass, of Christopher Harder. For this Canadian-Kiwi, RISK is the name of the forensic game. You win some - and the Crimes Act sometimes comes second to ambush and tactical surprise - and, of course, you lose a few. Plea bargaining occurs. ("What's that?" law students used to ask.) And just rarely a losing client shows signs of restlessness. So does the Law Society - and Harder fronts up with equally engrossing accounts of the defences of himself. He survives.

The book is an irresistible read because the human element is thoroughly explored. And racily narrated. Harder's workaday world bristles with "attractive blondes", alleged misconduct by uniformed persons, run-ins with nasties betwixt our leafy suburbs and Hong Kong, escort agencies, and the remarkable case of an unusually endowed, misnamed Mr Smaller, and the successful self-defence plea of a client who shot his attacker in the back seven times.

What makes Harder tick? Plainly the cut and thrust of trials, making a credible case out of seemingly unpromising evidence, and chasing "the thin thread of belief that one person (one possible witness) can make a difference". And, like other defenders, there are the two phrases that make his neck hairs tingle - the jury's "not guilty", and the judge's "Mr Prosecutor? Do you really want to continue with this case?"

What sets him apart from other courtroom lawyers? Well, he likes the centre-stage (but a lot of them, and us, do too). Harder is "different" because, by instinct, he's a gum-shoe investigator. He does much of the leg-work. And he isn't fussy where he goes or, within reason, what he does to get the facts. It can be a minefield. Bombs do go off. But as he shows here, and in his earlier Mercy, Mistress, Mercy, DIY detective work can pay a dividend.

No shrinking violet (he took off to Peru to offer his services as mediator in the hostage crisis), Harder, the author, invites comparison with a certain blockbuster writer. That one glamorises crime. Harder doesn't. His adversarial reportage is more in line with Hogarth than, say, Mortimer's Rumpole. It is raw and knuckly, sad, sometimes hilarious, and it has little to do with fiction.

Yes, our author does self-advertise. He even states his fee (last page, should you need him). But there is heart to the man and to the book. He stays haunted by the Delcelia case, like many others do. He wept through his televised statement of the life-support removal in the "Baby L" saga. Some critics questioned his motivation for involving himself. The response: "For taking the Baby L case, I confirm that I was paid. I received a big box of corned beef, a mat and a $50 note because that was all the parents could afford."

Harder's Looking Glass makes you smile and sweat and twitch and, here and there, quite frequently, it makes you think.

* Bernard Brown is an Auckland law teacher and poet.

Howling at the Moon Publishing $29.95