Higher Law Boxset, Volume 3

by Sheldon Siegel

  I wasn’t so confident.

  He held out a hand, which I shook. “For obvious reasons, you won’t be seeing me again. And I will, of course, deny that this meeting ever took place.”

  “Understood.”

  “For security reasons, I’ll need to know if you’ve been able to work this out with the D.A. by midnight. Inspector Johnson knows how to reach us.”

  “Thank you, Dwayne.”

  “Good luck, Mr. Daley.”

  ✽✽✽

  Pete was behind the wheel and I was in the passenger seat of his Crown Vic as we drove past St. Mary’s Cathedral at nine o’clock on Monday night. Rain reflected off his headlights.

  Nady spoke up from the back seat. “Didn’t see that coming.”

  Neither did I. “I told you that it’s like making sausage.”

  “Can you cut a deal with Ward and Harper?”

  “We’re going to find out.”

  She spoke to Pete. “How did you know that Dwayne worked undercover?”

  “I used to be in law enforcement. I notice things.”

  “Like what?”

  “He didn’t pass the smell test.”

  “He smelled terrible.”

  “Not terrible enough for a homeless guy. You haven’t spent as much time on the street as I have.” The corner of his mouth turned up. “And I played a hunch.”

  “Did Gio have anything to do with it?”

  “Might have.”

  Nady wasn’t satisfied. “You didn’t just walk up to him and say, ‘You smell too good to be a real homeless guy, so you must be an undercover cop.’”

  “I tailed him. He was sleeping in an SRO on Fulton. It isn’t the Ritz, but it’s better than the street. I told him that I wouldn’t blow his cover if he was straight with me. He agreed to trust me after I told him that I used to be a cop. He said that he was working on something big. I told him that if he could help us, I could get Johnny’s case resolved and get the National Guard out of the neighborhood. If you want something, you gotta give something.”

  “How did you plan to resolve Johnny’s case?”

  “I called my big brother.” He turned to me. “Speaking of which, did you hear back from the D.A.?”

  “Yeah. She’s agreed to meet with us tonight.”

  64

  “WE CAN END THIS RIGHT NOW”

  “You’re absolutely sure this is legitimate?” Ward asked. She and Harper had just viewed Dwayne’s video for the third time.

  Roosevelt didn’t waver. “Yes.”

  The District Attorney of the City and County of San Francisco was sitting ramrod straight in her ergonomic leather chair. For the first time since I’d met her, her makeup wasn’t perfect, and the bags under her eyes were visible. She stared daggers at me. “You’re playing games.”

  I darted a glance at Nady, who was sitting in the chair next to mine. Then I turned back to Ward. “I’m trying to save lives and stop the chaos on the streets. We can end this right now.”

  “Based upon a video that you could have made on your iPad?”

  “Inspector Johnson just confirmed that the individual who shot the video is working undercover on busting a major heroin ring. I’m going to leave it up to Inspector Johnson to decide whether he wants to give you more information about that person. I can assure you that if we reveal his identity, it will put his life and the lives of a dozen law enforcement officers at risk. If we work together, we can avoid a disaster.”

  “And if I refuse?”

  “I will send this video to Jerry Edwards at the Chronicle.”

  “You’re prepared to put the undercover officers at risk?”

  No, I’m not. “If I have to. My loyalty is to my client. Obviously, I would prefer to work something out with you.”

  “You’re bluffing.”

  “No, I’m not.” Yes, I am. “I’m trying to work with you.”

  “I would appreciate it if you and Ms. Nikonova would wait outside for a few minutes.”

  ✽✽✽

  At some point in every case, it always seems to come down to an interminable wait. As Nady and I sat in the darkened reception area outside Ward’s office, five minutes turned into ten, ten turned into fifteen, and fifteen turned into a half-hour. Unlike Ward’s opulent office, the waiting area hadn’t been remodeled. It looked the same as it did when I was a baby public defender almost a quarter of a century earlier.

  My mind wandered as I checked my e-mails and texts. Pete asked for an update. So did Luca. Gio was standing by, hoping for a shred of positive news. Rosie reported that she was working late. I smiled when Tommy texted me a reminder about his next basketball game.

  I leaned back in the plastic seat, closed my eyes, and replayed the prelim in my head. I thought about Johnny, whose life would never be the same. I reminded myself of his mother’s words that he never really wanted to be a cop. I understood the endless fears and worries that she had endured as the wife of an assistant chief and the mother of seven police officers. I thought of my old friend, Gio, who was a standup guy and a hardworking cop.

  Then my thoughts turned to my dad. He never said much, and we didn’t always see eye to eye. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve started to understand him better. He did his job, played by the rules, paid his taxes, was faithful to his wife, and wanted his kids to have a better life. In his own way, he was an excellent role model. I would have given anything to have spent a little more time with him.

  The door to Ward’s office opened. Harper appeared, expression serious. “We need to talk.”

  ✽✽✽

  Ward sat in her chair, features contorted into an extreme frown. Harper sat to my left, demeanor subdued. Nady was to my right. Roosevelt sat in an armchair in front of the flat-screen TV, the ever-present cup of coffee in his hand.

  Ward’s tone was grave. “You’ve put us in an impossible situation.”

  “We can fix this, Nicole.”

  “I’m not so sure, Mike.”

  Let’s not get melodramatic. “The video changes everything.”

  “No, it doesn’t.”

  “Yes, it does. Jones had a gun. It proves that Johnny acted in self-defense.”

  “Jones dropped the gun.”

  “Johnny didn’t know it. He thought that he was acting in self-defense. We’re back to Graham vs. Connor. Johnny had a legitimate belief that Jones still had the gun. When Jones lowered his hands, Johnny believed that he was reaching for it, so he shot him in self-defense.”

  “Jones repeatedly said that he was unarmed.”

  “Johnny had a reasonable basis to believe that he was lying.”

  “Come on, Mike.”

  “You come on, Nicole. Judge Ramsey isn’t going to move this case to trial on a murder-one charge. Even if he does, you’ll never get to guilt beyond a reasonable doubt.”

  Her full lips turned down. “I might be willing to go down to murder-two.”

  Progress. “You won’t get a conviction. We’ll get to reasonable doubt on self-defense.”

  Her eyes betrayed her poker face. She knew that I was right. “You expect us to drop the charges?”

  “Yes.”

  “I can’t do that, Mike.”

  “Yes, you can. And it isn’t as if you’ll come up empty. Based on the video, you have a slam-dunk case against Murphy for filing a false police report, obstruction of justice, and perjury. You can get Siragusa and Connor for lying about seeing the gun in Jones’s hand.”

  “You expect me to let your client walk away scot-free?”

  “He didn’t do anything illegal.”

  “He lied.”

  “No, he didn’t. He didn’t know that Jones had dropped the gun. He didn’t know that Murphy had picked it up and planted it under Jones’s body.”

  “He colluded with Murphy, Siragusa, and Connor to obstruct justice.”

  Maybe. “You don’t know that. And you certainly can’t prove it.”

  “You expect me to just let him out?”

 
; Ideally. “Yes.”

  She exchanged frustrated looks with Harper and Roosevelt, then she looked straight into my eyes. “I can’t do it, Mike. I can’t just let him go.”

  It was time to put our cards on the table. “What can you do?”

  There was an interminable hesitation. “First, I’m prepared to drop the murder charge.”

  Don’t react—hear her out. “That’s a good start.”

  “Second, your client will agree to be a fully cooperating witness in the cases that we will be bringing against Murphy, Siragusa, and Connor. If he lies about anything, all bets are off.”

  “Fine.”

  “Third, your client will submit his resignation from SFPD.”

  As a practical matter, Johnny couldn’t continue as a member of SFPD if he testified against three other cops. “I’ll talk to him.”

  “Finally, your client will plead guilty to obstruction of justice.”

  Crap. “He didn’t obstruct justice.”

  “He colluded with three other officers to lie about planting the gun.”

  “No, he didn’t.”

  “Yes, he did.”

  “You can’t make that case beyond a reasonable doubt.”

  “We’ll get Murphy, Siragusa, and Connor to testify against him in exchange for lighter sentences.”

  Yes, you will. “You’re asking me to convince my client to plead guilty to a crime that he didn’t commit?”

  “He shot an unarmed kid.”

  “In self-defense.”

  “He and his partner lied. So did Siragusa and Connor. This is absolutely the best deal that I’m going to offer, and it’s a lot better than I should offer.”

  I believed her. “He can’t do time.”

  “He has to do time.”

  “Probation.”

  “The maximum sentence is just one year. That’s the best that I can do.”

  “Too long.”

  “I’m being generous.”

  “Probation,” I repeated.

  “One year.”

  “Three months.”

  “One year. With good behavior, he’ll only have to serve six months.”

  “Credit for time served.”

  “Yes. That’s the absolute best that I can do.”

  That’s as good as I’m going to get. “I’ll take it back to my client.”

  She looked at her watch. “This offer will remain open for the next hour. If you breathe a word of this to anybody else, it’s revoked, and I will deny that I ever made it.”

  ✽✽✽

  Nady and I walked down the empty corridor outside Ward’s office. “Can I join you when you talk to Johnny?” she asked.

  “Ordinarily, I’d say yes, but I think it’s probably better if I talk to him alone.”

  “Understood. I’ll meet you back at the office.”

  “Thanks.” I pulled out my iPhone and punched in a now-familiar number.

  Gio answered on the first ring. “You got something, Mike?”

  “I need you to come over to the Hall right away. We need to talk to Johnny.”

  “Did you get the charges dropped?”

  “Not yet, but I might have something that could be workable.”

  “I’ll be right there. You want me to bring Luca?”

  “I think it would be better if just you and I talked to Johnny.”

  65

  “IT’S BETTER THIS WAY”

  Johnny’s face was flushed as he sat on the opposite side of the table from his father and me. He spoke in a hoarse whisper. “They want me to confess to a crime that I didn’t commit?”

  Yes. “Plea bargain deals are never perfect, Johnny.”

  “You want me to lie?”

  Yes. “In my judgment, it’s the best deal that we’re going to get. It takes the murder charge off the table. It caps your exposure.”

  “You sound like a lawyer.”

  I am a lawyer. “You can put all of this behind you in a year—six months with good behavior. A trial won’t even start for another year—maybe longer. I can’t guarantee that I’ll be able to persuade the judge to grant bail.”

  “I’d have to quit my job.”

  “I’m afraid so.” Your mother says you never wanted to be a cop. “Either way, it wouldn’t be safe for you to remain with SFPD.”

  “I would have to live with the fact that I’m a convicted criminal.”

  There’s no way around it. “Yes.”

  “And I’d have to testify against Murph, Goose, and Charlie?”

  “You’d have to cooperate.”

  “You want me to rat them out?”

  “I want you to tell the truth.”

  “So, you want me to tell the truth about them, but not me?”

  Ironically, it would work to your advantage. “That’s part of the deal.”

  “You’re okay with that?”

  “I’m not crazy about it, but I think it’s the best alternative for you.”

  “So you think morality has a sliding scale?”

  “This is about expedience.”

  “Is that what you used to tell people when you were a priest?”

  Occasionally. “I wasn’t the world’s greatest priest.”

  “Maybe you aren’t the world’s greatest lawyer, either.”

  I let it go. He was under an ungodly amount of stress.

  Johnny considered his options for an interminable moment. “You’re the hotshot lawyer. What would you do if you were me?”

  I’d probably fight it, but I don’t always do the rational thing. “I’d take the deal. It minimizes your exposure and ends this today.”

  He turned to his father. “And you?”

  Assistant Chief Giovanni Bacigalupi III looked straight into the eyes of his youngest child. “Take the deal, son. It’s better this way.”

  “You’re okay with me admitting that I’m a criminal?”

  “It minimizes the risk of greater damage.”

  “It will ruin my reputation.”

  “People have short memories.”

  “It will ruin our family’s reputation.”

  “We’ll be fine.”

  “I’ll lose my job.”

  “There are other jobs.”

  “It won’t be the family business.”

  “We’ve been doing this for four generations. Maybe it’s time for us to try something new.”

  “I always wanted to be a cop.”

  Gio’s tone was empathetic. “No, you didn’t. I always wanted you to be a cop.”

  “You’d be okay with it?”

  “Absolutely. And your mother would have one less cop to worry about when she goes to bed every night.” He added, “So will I.”

  Johnny swallowed hard.

  My old classmate stood up and hugged his youngest son. “You’re the seventh son of the seventh son, Giovanni. That makes you special. I know that I’ve never said this enough, but I am immensely proud of you.”

  The room was silent as my friend and my godson hugged. When they finally separated, Johnny choked back tears and whispered, “Please tell the D.A. that I accept the deal.”

  “I will.”

  There were tears in Gio’s eyes when he whispered to his son, “I’ll go call your mother.”

  66

  “I WORK HERE”

  The light was on in Rosie’s office when I walked in at eleven o’clock on Monday night. The plaintive sound of Bonnie Raitt singing John Prine’s “Angel from Montgomery” came from the speaker next to her computer.

  “You’re here late,” I observed.

  She looked up. “I needed to get caught up on paperwork.”

  “Kids okay?”

  “Fine.”

  “Your mom?”

  “Status quo. What brings you here?”

  “I work here.”

  She took off her reading glasses. “Do you?”

  “I used to.”

  “Do you still want to work here?”

  “Yes.”

/>   “Good.” She took a sip of water. She pointed at the chair opposite her desk. “Sit.”

  I did as she said.

  “Diet Dr Pepper?”

  “No, thanks.”

  “Bourbon?”

  “That sounds better.”

  “Thought so.” She pulled a bottle of Bulleit Bourbon and two glasses from her bottom drawer and poured a finger for each of us. “Enough?”

  “I think so.”

  “There’s more at home.”

  “That might be a good thing.”

  “Did you get your car fixed?”

  “It’ll be ready tomorrow.”

  She took a sip of her drink. “I heard you cut a deal for Johnny.”

  Word travels fast. “Where did you hear that?”

  “Maria. She didn’t have details.”

  “Is she holding up okay?”

  “Relieved. And she expressed her gratitude for all of your efforts.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  “What’s the deal?”

  “Ward will drop the murder charge. Johnny will plead guilty to obstruction with a recommendation of a one-year sentence. With good behavior, he’ll be out in six months. He’ll resign from SFPD and be a cooperating witness in obstruction and perjury cases against Murphy, Siragusa, and Connor.”

  “Good result for Johnny. Ward gets to claim victory, too. Not bad at all. I take it that you found some new evidence?”

  “Pete did.”

  “I should have known. What was it?”

  “Video of Jones running across the plaza with a gun in his hand.” I filled her in on the details. “Murphy planted the gun—maybe with Johnny’s knowledge. Maybe not. Either way, Murphy lied in his police report and probably obstructed justice. Siragusa and Connor lied about seeing a gun in Jones’s hand, or they were mistaken. Either way, they were wrong.”

  “They lied.”

  “Murphy did for sure. I’m not so sure about Siragusa and Connor.”

  “They testified that they saw a gun in Jones’s hand. How is that not lying?”

  “They responded to a call saying that Jones was armed and dangerous. It was dark and rainy. Maybe we should give them the benefit of the doubt and say that they were mistaken.”

  “You really believe that?”

  “I don’t know. It doesn’t matter for Johnny’s case. My dad used to say that you shouldn’t cast aspersions on the cops until you’ve spent some time in the line of fire.”