“Do you think he did?”
“No.”
“Do you think he should take the deal anyway?”
I thought about it for a moment. “Probably not, but we have a legal obligation to tell him about it.”
42
“I’M NOT PLEADING GUILTY”
Johnny’s response was succinct. “No deal.”
The fluorescent light flickered in the consultation room at five-forty on Friday evening. Johnny’s expression was resolute. So was Nady’s.
I kept my voice even. “You might want to think about it.”
“I’m not pleading guilty. Why are you so hot to take a deal?”
“I’m just presenting options.”
“You think I’m guilty.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Then why are we talking about this?”
“I have a legal obligation to tell you about plea bargain offers presented by the D.A. My job is to help you balance the benefits and the risks. If you accept the deal, the D.A. will recommend the minimum sentence of three years. With good behavior, you’ll be out after serving only eighty-five percent of the sentence, which means that you should be released in a little over two and a half years. It provides certainty.”
“And if I don’t?”
“If you’re convicted of first-degree murder, the minimum sentence is twenty-five years. Since Jones died of a gunshot wound, that would tack on an additional twenty-five-year enhancement. And it could be longer.”
“Not good.”
“Not good at all. Two and a half years is a lot shorter than fifty.”
“It was self-defense.”
“I know, but it’s easier to convince me than a jury.”
“Jones had a gun. I saw it. So did Murph. And Goose and Charlie. Murph and I found it under the body.”
“You can’t see it in the videos. Murphy, Siragusa, and Connor will testify that they saw it, but the prosecution will try to discredit them because they’re cops.”
“Then I’ll testify that I saw it.”
“They’ll say that you’re lying to protect yourself. Harper will go after you. Bad things happen when defendants get on the stand.”
“I can hold my own.”
“It’s too risky.”
“It’s my life. If I don’t stick up for myself, who will?”
A very legitimate point. “We’ll consider the possibility if we get to trial.”
“You’re going to get the charges dropped at the prelim.”
“I can’t make that promise.”
“Then you need to make it happen.”
✽✽✽
Nady’s voice was subdued as we sat in the back of the Lyft on our way to the office. “That didn’t go very well, did it?”
“About what I expected. Plea bargains are never satisfying. If Johnny accepts the deal, he’s still going to jail—albeit for a shorter time. And he’ll lose his job and have a criminal record.”
“And if he fights it?”
“We need to be realistic, Nady. Even if he’s acquitted, he can’t go back to SFPD, and it will be hard to find another job in law enforcement. For that matter, it won’t be easy to find any job. He’s a celebrity now. Most businesses don’t want to deal with it. Do you think Luca would hire somebody who was acquitted of murder?”
“Probably not. Do you think he should take the deal?”
I watched the wipers swish as we headed north on Sixth Street. “At the moment, no. Let’s see where we are on Sunday.”
“If you were in his shoes, what would you do?”
“I’d probably fight it. At the end of the day, your most valuable asset is your reputation. If he takes the deal, he’d be a convicted felon. He’d have to live with that for the rest of his life.”
✽✽✽
Gio was sitting in one of the cushy chairs in Luca’s conference room at eight-thirty on Friday night. “I heard you saw Johnny,” he said.
“I did. He’s okay, Gio.”
“They won’t let me see him.”
“I’ll get you inside tomorrow.”
“How?”
I don’t know. “I’ll find a way. How are you and Maria holding up?”
“Fair.”
I looked into my old friend’s tired eyes. “You guys solid?”
His lips formed a tight line across his face. “Yeah.”
Like all couples, they’d had their ups and downs. I don’t think either of them ever cheated. People who meet in high school change over the years. Sometimes, they grow apart. As far as I could tell, Gio and Maria hadn’t.
“Anything I can do?”
“Get our son out of jail.”
“We’re doing everything that we can.” This platitude was never satisfying.
“Do it faster.”
“Ward and Harper offered a deal for voluntary manslaughter.” I filled him in on the details.
He was unimpressed. “No.”
“It’s a good deal, Gio.”
“It’s out of the question. My son is not going to plead guilty to a crime that he didn’t commit. It would destroy his future.”
And that’s that.
I looked at the TV. CNN was showing footage of the protests earlier in the evening. It seemed like a week had passed since Jones’s funeral. They switched to the post office parking lot, where two police officers were guarding a make-shift memorial of dozens of floral arrangements wilting in the rain.
“Looks quiet,” I said.
“For now.” His voice filled with resignation. “Two good cops are dead. Two more are in the hospital. The shooter is dead. So are four civilians. And the asshole who drove into them. They’ve been marching in the streets for two days, and I can’t do anything about it.”
“It’s better if you take a little time off, Gio.”
“I have no choice. The chief told me to stay home.”
It’s the right call. “You have enough on your plate with Johnny.”
“I feel helpless, Mike. I can’t do anything for Johnny, and I can’t stop the riots.”
“I’ll take care of Johnny. SFPD will take care of the streets.”
“Is there anything that I can do?”
I took a moment to think. “I need you to tap your sources to help Pete find somebody who can testify that Jones pulled a gun on Johnny. Better yet, we need video footage. Pete is looking for witnesses, but he doesn’t have great sources in the Fillmore, and the streets are empty because of the curfew. You know the undercover cops at Northern Station who know the people on the street. Maybe they can point you in the right direction. And if you’re with Pete, the cops won’t send him home for violating the curfew.”
“I’m off-duty.”
“You’re an assistant chief. If you walk down Fillmore Street with Pete, nobody will bother you.”
For the first time in a couple of days, there was light in Gio’s eyes. He pulled on his jacket. “Tell Pete that I’ll meet him in front of the Boom-Boom Room in twenty minutes.”
✽✽✽
An ashen-faced Luca Bacigalupi appeared in the doorway. “Where’s my brother?”
“With my brother. He went to the Fillmore to help Pete look for witnesses.”
“You think that’s a good idea?”
“Gio knows the neighborhood. And it gives him something productive to do.”
“I understand the D.A. offered a plea deal.”
“She did. Voluntary manslaughter with a recommendation of a three-year sentence. With good behavior, Johnny would be out in thirty and a half months. It’s a lot better than a minimum of fifty years for first-degree murder. I explained it to Johnny. He said no. So did Gio.”
“We should give it a little more thought. I just got a call from Paula Griffith at the City Attorney’s Office. They’ve agreed with Jones’s mother on a settlement of the civil case.”
43
“THEY’RE TRYING TO SQUEEZE US”
“How much?” I asked.
“A mill
ion,” Luca said.
More than I might have thought. “Admission of liability?”
“No. Jones’s mother wants her money, the mayor wants resolution, and SFPD wants the riots to end. The settlement agreement will include a full release of the City.”
“It won’t include a release of Johnny. Confidential?”
“No.” Luca’s lips turned down. “The City can’t do this in secret.”
You’re right. “They’ll need approval from the Board of Supervisors.”
“Already in the works.”
“It doesn’t eliminate the civil case against Johnny.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“They’re trying to squeeze us into a settlement.”
“Yes, they are.” He finally stepped inside my office and took a seat. “How does this impact the criminal case?”
“Legally, it doesn’t. The fact that the City and Jones’s mother settle the civil case is irrelevant to our case and inadmissible as evidence.”
“Is there a ‘but’ coming?”
“Yes. Everybody will know about it. It’s going to make picking a jury more difficult. Jurors are supposed to disregard this stuff, but they’re human. They’ll know that the City caved and paid Jones’s mother a million bucks. They’ll be predisposed against Johnny.”
“At a minimum, we’ll want to ask for a change of venue.”
“Agreed. And we will. But unless we can change the venue to Mars, it’s going to be hard to find people who don’t know anything about this case.”
“What would you suggest?”
I had no good answers. “Let’s play it out.”
✽✽✽
“Do you ever sleep?” I asked.
Nady responded with a smile. “Not much.”
It was ten-thirty on Friday night. She hadn’t left the office in two days.
“You’re going to have to learn to pace yourself if you’re going to do defense work.”
“Luca says the same thing about real estate work.”
Not the same. “If you aren’t careful, you’re going to look like me when you’re fifty-seven.”
“I’m going to be retired.”
I liked her attitude. “Maybe I should be getting advice from you.”
She grinned. “Maybe you should.”
I was sitting in her modest office next door to Luca’s palatial corner space. Luca had six windows. Nady had one. She had ditched her professional attire for jeans and a Cal sweatshirt. I pointed at the photo of a handsome young man taken at the top of Mt. Tam. “Husband?”
“Boyfriend. Almost seven years. He does antitrust work for Story, Short & Thompson.”
Dear God. It was a mega-firm in Embarcadero Center that spun off from the now-defunct firm where I had spent five miserable years after Rosie and I had gotten divorced. “I worked at their predecessor for a while.”
“I wouldn’t have figured.”
In hindsight, I wouldn’t, either. “Let’s just say that it wasn’t a good fit. Is your boyfriend going to stick it out to make partner?”
“Not clear. They just extended the partnership track.”
“They tend to do that.”
“If he can hang in for another year, he can pay off his student loans.”
This was a substantial accomplishment. Nowadays, a year at Boalt cost more than my college and law school educations combined—even for California residents.
She asked, “Are you happy that you went back to the P.D.’s Office?”
“Yes. Are you happy working for Luca?”
“For the most part.”
I pointed at the photo. “You planning to get married?”
“Eventually. It’s hard to organize a wedding for two lawyers.”
“Don’t wait too long.”
“We won’t.”
I left it there. Given my track record, I didn’t feel comfortable giving people advice on their relationships. Fortunately, Grace always came to Rosie with boyfriend issues, and Tommy wasn’t interested in girls—yet.
I moved to the matters at hand. “Did anything else come in from the D.A.’s Office?”
“More police reports. Nothing new.” She said that she had gone through the videos again. “You can’t see a gun in Jones’s hand.”
Crap. “Humor me and take another look. I’ll do the same. In the meantime, please put Murphy, Siragusa, and Connor on our witness list. They’ll testify that Jones had a gun.”
“It would help if we can find somebody to corroborate their testimony.”
True. “Pete and Gio are working on it.”
“What about Johnny?”
“The conventional wisdom says that you shouldn’t put your client on the stand unless you’re desperate.”
“This isn’t a conventional situation, and we’re getting desperate.”
Also true. “We’ll decide over the weekend. Did the D.A. send over a witness list?”
“Yes. It’s short. The medical examiner will confirm that Jones died from a gunshot wound. A ballistics expert will say that the bullets that killed Jones were fired from Johnny’s service weapon. Roosevelt Johnson will probably present the videos and tie everything together.”
“Murphy? Siragusa? Connor?”
“No.”
I wasn’t surprised. They were prepared to testify that Jones had a gun. This wouldn’t help Ward and Harper.
Nady took off her glasses. “Who else should I include on our witness list?”
“Depends on Pete. Maybe one of the homeless guys on the plaza.” I smiled. “Be sure to include Chief Green, Reverend Tucker, and the mayor.”
“Seriously?”
“Just to tweak them. And we’ll want to include Johnny’s name.”
“Are you really planning to put him on the stand?”
“No. But I want them to have to prepare for the possibility.”
✽✽✽
It was almost midnight when Luca knocked on my open door. “You’re still here,” he said.
“Yup. You going home soon?”
“In a few minutes.”
“Anything new on the civil case?”
“No.”
“Then I guess we’ll resume our respective battles in the morning.”
He held up a finger. “Rosie is here to see you.”
I hadn’t expected it. “Thanks.”
He cleared his throat. “She brought somebody with her.”
“Who?”
“Johnny’s mother.”
44
“HE DID IT FOR HIS FATHER”
Maria Bacigalupi’s modulated tone couldn’t camouflage the anguish in her eyes. “I’m sorry for coming in so late.”
“No problem, Maria.”
She was wearing a simple beige blouse and black slacks. Her subtle makeup was perfect. She reminded me of my mother, who spent countless nights waiting for my father to come home. Mama pretended to watch TV, but she glanced out the window every few seconds, hoping to see the headlights of my dad’s Buick. The stresses of being a cop are well-documented. The stresses of being a cop’s spouse are sometimes forgotten. The stresses of being a cop’s mother are incomprehensible.
The Law Office of Luca Bacigalupi and Associates, LLP was silent. Rosie and Maria were sitting in the chairs opposite my desk. Nady was in her office. Luca had gone home.
I offered Maria a glass of water, which she accepted. She took a sip and grasped it tightly. “Thank you for seeing me.”
“I’m always available for you, Maria. How are you and Gio holding up?”
“Not so good.”
“What can I do?”
She looked at Rosie for an instant. “Gio doesn’t know that I’m here.”
“That’s okay. He’s down in the Fillmore with Pete.”
“I know.” She waited a beat. “Do you have to tell him that I came to see you?”
“No.”
She was relieved.
“Are things okay between you and Gio?”
“
Same as always.”
You never know what goes on inside a marriage unless you’re there. “Is that good?”
“For the most part. We’ve been married for almost forty years.”
She was being a little cryptic. “Everybody goes through rough patches.”
“We’ve had our share.”
“Nothing insurmountable, I hope.”
“No. It isn’t as if Gio has cheated or is mean-spirited. He has a stressful job.”
“Comes with the territory, I’m afraid.”
“It doesn’t help that I have seven sons who are also SFPD.”
“My mom dealt with the same issues. You’ll get through this. So will Gio and Johnny.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Things are never as bad as they seem.”
“They’re pretty bad right now, Mike.”
“I know. Why did you want to talk to me, Maria?”
Her eyes narrowed. “My son is in jail and accused of murder—even though he shot an armed man who had fled the scene after a legitimate traffic stop. There were a dozen AK-47s in the trunk of his car. It doesn’t take a Ph.D. from Cal to understand that Jones was going to use those guns to kill people.”
She was right. She also needed to vent, so I let her keep talking.
“Now two police officers are dead. Gio and I knew them. We know their families. They died because they were trying to protect the rights of the person who shot them. It doesn’t make any sense. How many more?”
I had no good answer. “Things will calm down.”
“Not anytime soon. They’re planning another march tomorrow.”
“The City won’t issue a permit.”
“That won’t stop them.”
“Then they’ll be arrested.”
“And they’ll be out on bail the next day. And what about the crackpot who ran over those people in front of the church? The police can’t stop something like that.”
“They’ve called in the National Guard.”
“There will never be enough cops and National Guard. Your view might be different if your father was still alive or if your brother was still a cop.”
True. I reached over and touched her hand. “We’re doing everything that we can, Maria. For now, I want you to focus on supporting Johnny, okay? I can’t imagine how hard this is for you and Gio, but you can’t do anything about what’s going on in the streets. Does that make sense?”
Higher Law Boxset, Volume 3 Page 42
