by Bill Sage
“Your Honor,” Goldman thundered, “I want to cite the DA for misconduct for those unprofessional remarks. He’s been unfair to my client throughout this trial.”
As Wilcox was about to jump in, Judge Roth stuck out his hand to stop him.
“It’s the same thing over and over again.” Goldman paused a moment. “All he wants to do is hide behind technical rules and silence the witnesses. He doesn't want all the evidence to come out.”
“Your Honor,” Wilcox said.
“The objection is overruled. You may answer, Mrs. Madden.” Roth’s plan would be better if he let this question be answered.
Wilcox stared at Roth for a second or two then looked down. Roth could see that he was angry about his ruling. And for good reason, the question was too ambiguous and argumentative.
“I’m not sure I remember the question,” Joyce said.
“I can ask it again,” Goldman said. “Are you saying the marital privilege had nothing to do with your decision to get married before you and your husband would have to testify in this case?”
“Absolutely not. I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
When Goldman was asking Mrs. Madden his last question, Judy had passed a note to Roth. He looked at it and waited until Mrs. Madden finished answering the question.
“Gentlemen, this may be a good time to take a break from the trial and go over jury instructions,” Roth said.
Wilcox said, “Yes, Your Honor.”
“In the middle of my cross-examination?” Goldman snapped. Then shaking his head, he said, “Not right, it’s not right, Your Honor.”
“I’ll give you extra time tomorrow. Will that make you happy, Mr. Goldman?” Roth said.
“The timing seems to be aimed at me. Take away from my cross of the witness.”
“You’re being dishonest to the court and in front of the jury. We agreed this morning on stopping at this time when we didn’t know who’d be asking questions. Your objections are baseless and disrespectful.”
Putting on a self-righteous look and shrugging, Goldman said, “Whatever the court wants, Your Honor.”
“Sure, it’s alright with you,” Roth asked Goldman.
Goldman eyed Roth but didn’t say anything.
The attorneys went into chambers and discussed the jury instructions with Roth. Other than to remind Goldman again about what he said in front of the jurors, it went more smoothly than Roth thought it would.
42
AFTER HIS MEETING WITH HAMILTON at the Pacific Café, Roth was ready to plan the next step with Jake. He hadn’t told him anything about Hamilton’s assault on Linda. Wanted to hold off until he was ready to take action.
He called Jake from court and said, “We need to talk.”
“Okay.” Jake never asked any questions when Al said those four words. “Be over there after 6:00.”
Jake arrived a few minutes after 6:00 with a bottle of single malt Scotch. He handed it to Al. “I don’t wanna drink your stuff all the time.”
Al thanked him, put it on the coffee table and they sat down on the couch.
“Jake, something bad happened to Linda,” Al said. Then he told Jake what Hamilton did and what he'd said about Jews. As he expected, Jake was furious and wanted to mete out swift “justice.”
“That motherfucker!” Jake snarled, eyes blazing. “I can’t wait to get my hands on that cocksucker. He’ll regret he ever laid hands on her.”
Al didn’t say anything, knew how Jake would react.
“He’s gotta pay. You can’t let this pass,” Jake insisted.
“I know. And there doesn’t seem to any end to it. First, it was sending in Ward to blackmail me. Then Ward tries to put pressure on me through Linda. Now it’s this.”
“And he’s gotta talk that Jewish shit?” Jake paused, shooting Al a fierce stare. “He’s a fuckin’ dead man.”
Al nodded but didn’t say anything.
“Just tell me when. I’ll make that fucker pay. Maybe make it real slow.”
“Yeah, that’ll happen.”
Jake didn’t say anything.
“He’s a scumbag, involved in taking kickbacks and bribes,” Al said. “No one would shed a tear. But I want to be careful. Got to make sure it’s not linked to us, and I have Linda’s contract to worry about too. We got to do both.”
Jake nodded his agreement. “Uh-huh.”
They didn’t talk at all for a few moments.
“What about I get us some of this stuff,” Jake said, pointing at the bottle of Scotch he brought in.
“Yeah, good idea.”
Jake took the bottle into the kitchen and poured two small shots into old-fashioned glasses.
“I feel sick about it,” Al said.
“At least it didn’t get too far.”
“But still I’m sorry she had to go through that.” Al paused, looking at Jake. “I feel like I let her down.”
“That’s how I felt with Elsa.” Jake gave Al a consoling look. “We weren’t there to protect them.”
“Yeah, I keep thinking I could’ve done something… something to prevent it. Maybe if I had…”
Jake shook his head. “There was nothing you could’ve done. It just happened, that’s all.” Jake made a point of looking Al in the eyes. “Not your fault.”
They took sips of Scotch.
“Now both of us have the same shit happening to us. Women we love suffering at the hands of some asshole,” Jake said.
“But yours was worse than mine.”
“They’re both bad.”
“But I still have Linda. We can go forward. I can help her forget.” Right after saying that Al wished he could take it back.
Jake sighed and looked away. Then he downed all his Scotch and said, “She was beautiful. Like Linda. You should’ve met her.”
“I wish I had,” Al said quietly.
Neither spoke for several moments.
Then Jake said, “It went too fast. Like it shouldn’t have been.”
“If things…” Al began, then he looked away. Turning back to Jake, he said, “You could have had a life together.”
Jake took a breath, leaned his head back, and then became quiet. They sat in silence for a few minutes, each downing their Scotch.
More silence. Al sensed this could be a good time to refill their drinks. He got up and went to the kitchen.
“Pour my stuff,” Jake called out.
“I will. It’s great single malt.” Al poured more of Jake’s Scotch and brought their glasses back to the living room. Al sat down and turned on the TV. He ran through some channels and stopped on a wild animal program.
They sat in silence, watching a pack of hyenas trying to steal a fresh kill from a lion.
“So what’s going on with Goldman?” Jake asked, breaking the silence.
Al told him what happened when Goldman came to court and tried to withdraw from the case. “I stalled him off. Told him he needed to file a formal motion. He said he’d bring one in tomorrow.”
“What happens then?”
“That’s when it’s gonna come to blows. The motion will be part of the court record, open to anyone to see. So if it’s good, it could put me in a bind, tie my hands.”
“Doesn’t sound too good.”
“I have something in mind that I don’t think he’s thought through. I’ll spring it on him when the time is right.”
“You da man.”
“Just stay away from him.”
“If I never see that fat fuck again, that’ll be fine with me.”
They both sipped more single malt and were quiet for four or five minutes.
“Did you hear from Hack about Aaron’s bar mitzvah?” Al asked.
“Yeah, I think I’ll make it. It’s on my calendar. Don’t know yet. I’ll let him know.”
“I hope you do because Linda and I are going. You can finally meet her.”
“If I show up, Linda will see all the dipshits you hung out with when you lived in
Detroit.”
“I hope she doesn’t want to call off the wedding.”
“All I can say is you’re taking a big risk, especially with Ruth there.”
“As long as Linda doesn’t have to sit next to her, she’ll be okay. If she does, it won’t be a good night and I’ll pay for it later.”
43
NEXT MORNING GOLDMAN CAME to court with a formal, written motion to be relieved as counsel. He gave a copy to Wilcox and handed the original to Judy.
She brought it in to Judge Roth.
Roth looked over the motion, jotted down some notes, and reread the governing court rules. Then he asked Judy to send Goldman back to his chambers.
Wilcox didn’t want to be involved in the discussion. He thought it should be between Roth and Goldman. So Roth told him it’d be okay for him to wait in the courtroom while they hashed it out.
Goldman entered chambers and shut the door. Sat in one of the chairs in front of Roth’s desk.
“Have you served Mangano?” Roth asked.
“Yes, Your Honor. This morning, in the lock up.”
“I’ve read your motion, but I notice you haven’t attached any of the material I requested.”
“I checked my files and apparently, I tossed out some of my completed cases. I can’t even find the case number.”
“You don’t even know this guy’s last name?”
“It was a few years ago.”
“And you’re saying he just shows up and beats you for no good reason?”
“The guy is an irrational killer. He isn’t guided by reason like an ordinary person. If you ever saw him, you’d know what I mean. He’s very intimidating and sadistic. Acts like a lunatic.”
Roth had to laugh to himself. Goldman wasn’t that far off. “Was his case out of downtown LA?”
“Yes, as far as I remember.”
“Remember the charges?”
“Attempted murder.”
“What year?”
“It was about five years ago.”
“1978?”
“I think so.”
“I’ll get one of the clerks to go through all the attempted murder cases for that year. See which one listed you as the defense attorney.”
Goldman gazed over at the blue West’s Annotated California Code books in Roth’s bookcase. Stared at them for a second, then eyed Roth. “I know you need more information, but I don’t have it. This is an emergency for me, so I’ll have to take action, do what I need to save my life and suffer the consequences, whatever they may be.”
“Don’t do anything you’ll be sorry for later. You could be disbarred for abandoning a client during a murder trial.” Roth then fixed a stare on Goldman to stress his next statement. “I’m sure you still want to practice law in California.”
Goldman thought about what Roth said for a moment. “Judge, I want to stay on the case, but it’s my life that’s at stake here. I don’t have any choice. I’d rather be disbarred than dead.”
Roth chuckled then said, “Not a difficult choice to make, but getting disbarred is more probable.”
Goldman took a breath then looked away.
“I’ve looked at the rules, Mr. Goldman. And keeping those in mind, I notice that you’re obviously able to come to court and perform your job as trial counsel. I know you fear for your safety, but that’s subjective and your supporting facts haven’t been produced.”
Goldman looked away and then back at Roth. “But I have to protect my…my life. This is life or death for me.” After a pause, he slowly shook his head, a steely expression on his face. “I have to leave the state. There’s no other way…”
Roth could see he wouldn’t be able to talk Goldman out of withdrawing from the case. So going on a hunch, he played his second best card. “Is this all about your contempt citations, your way of trying to get out of serving time?”
At first Goldman looked at Roth like he’d said something in a foreign language. Then he said, “No, no, that had nothing to do with it.”
Roth figured that would probably catch Goldman off guard—he hadn’t factored in the citations. Now that Roth could see his hunch was correct, he kept the pressure on. “Because I have to tell you this. Before I relieve you, we’re going to handle your contempt citations. You’re not going anywhere until that’s taken care of.”
Goldman swallowed hard but didn’t say anything. He looked like he was embarrassed that he hadn’t thought it through.
Roth now knew he had him going. “There’s another thing. You lied to the court when you first told me and Wilcox that you fell at your house. That wasn’t true and you know it.”
“I thought that… I didn’t know what to say.”
“That’s not an excuse. And you know that lying to court is attorney misconduct. Now you have that added to all the other citations.”
Roth paused to give Goldman time to realize that no matter what, he had the contempt citations hanging over his head. But Roth still knew there was nothing to keep Goldman from fleeing California if that’s what he wanted to do. Contempt or no contempt.
Goldman sighed then looked away.
It was quiet for a while, Roth keeping his eyes fixed on Goldman.
Now Roth was ready to play his best card. “When the trial’s over, we’ll take another… Take another look at everything.”
Goldman sat still, staring at Roth. It seemed like he’d stopped breathing. Looked like he was in deep thought and trying to read Roth’s mind.
The silence was intense for a few seconds.
Then Roth said, “Look, you didn’t go to the police. So at least you know he’s not going to kill you for doing that.”
A pause.
“I will do everything I can to speed the trial along,” Roth continued. “It shouldn’t take long. And I promise, if this guy attacks you again or even threatens you, I’ll remove you from the case without any hearing. It’ll be automatic—no argument, hearing…nothing.”
Stitching his eyebrows Goldman stared at Roth again.
With Goldman’s eyes fixed on him, Roth made a big production out of slowly picking up Goldman’s motion and placing it in his wire out-basket.
Goldman glanced at the basket then returned to gaze at Roth, who shot him a quick nod, then smiled.
“It’ll all work out,” Roth said in a soothing voice.
44
GOLDMAN RETURNED TO THE COURTROOM and sat at the counsel table. Hunching over his file, he looked at his notes, getting ready for cross-examining Mrs. Madden.
The jury was waiting in the jury room.
Wilcox was chatting with Jon. While they were talking, he glanced over at Goldman then back at Jon. Nodding in Goldman’s direction, Wilcox said in a low voice, “He says he fell. I don’t believe it.”
Jon didn’t respond.
“You know, he almost looks better.”
Jon grinned, then looked away.
“The best thing is that shiny stuff on his cheek,” Wilcox said, snickering.
Several minutes later a deputy sheriff brought Mangano into the courtroom. Then Jon brought in the jury and Roth took the bench.
Mrs. Madden sat in the witness box. Judge Roth reminded her she was still under oath.
“Mr. Goldman,” Roth said, tipping his head in his direction.
“Thank you, Your Honor, I have a few more questions.” He got up and walked closer to the witness stand. “Mrs. Madden, I have a very important question to ask you. I think the jury would be interested in hearing your answer.” He paused as he took two steps closer. “Will you give us an honest answer?”
“Of course, I will,” Joyce said.
From the way Goldman was prefacing his question, Roth could tell he was setting her up.
He was right.
“Would you feel comfortable if the jury convicted the wrong man for this murder?”
“No, I would not.”
“Do you know what a frame-up is?”
“I think so,” Joyce Madden said.
<
br /> “That's when an innocent man is made to look like he's guilty,” he said.
“Excuse me Mr. Goldman,” Roth butted in. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but one of the jurors needs some assistance.”
The juror had put down his notepad and was looking down at his feet, not paying attention to the testimony.
“Everyone please stay in your places and relax for a few minutes,” Roth said.
Hearing Roth, the juror grabbed his notepad and sat straight up in his chair.
Roth then turned to Jon. “Mr. Bailiff, would you please confer with juror number eight. It looks like he may need some help.”
Everything stopped as Jon crossed the courtroom to the jury box, bent down, and conversed with the juror. After a few moments, he walked to the side of the bench and whispered something to Judge Roth.
Then as Jon walked back to his desk, Roth turned to the attorneys and said, “Mr. Wilcox, Mr. Goldman, one of the jurors lost his contact lens. Let’s take a 15-minute recess. See if we can find it for him.”
The jury was led back to the jury room to take a break. Jon took a flashlight from his desk drawer and he and the juror looked on his seat and the floor for his lens.
Wilcox picked up his file, left the courtroom and sat on the bench in the hallway. Relieved that he found a place to sit where he could be alone.
He was worried about whether the innuendoes and false accusations Goldman was slinging around in front of the jury were weakening his case. Were some jurors beginning to have second thoughts about the Maddens?
Maybe some of them were thinking that Acuna or other sheriff’s deputies said or did something to make Robert change his description of the shooter. Maybe some thought the sheriff’s department was out to get Mangano because he was in the Mob. And maybe because so many accusations had been hurled around by Goldman, some jurors were starting to have questions about the credibility of the prosecution’s case.
That could cause them to throw their hands up and say they didn’t know if Mangano was the right man or not. If so, they could either hang up or find him not guilty.
Nothing could be worse for Wilcox than losing this high-profile case. A not guilty verdict would be a serious blow to his reputation. Sure, everybody would blame it on the jury, but the defeat would mark him forever.
