And Justice for Some

by Joanne Sydney Lessner

  On the other side of Isobel, Chloe snorted. “Me neither.”

  “It is,” Isobel whispered urgently. “I swear I have a very important reason for asking.”

  “I have a reason for asking,” Lazaro called out.

  The ADA hesitated, then shrugged. “What instrument do you play?”

  “Sax,” Jack said.

  “Which ones?” Isobel hissed.

  “Which ones?” Lazaro echoed.

  “Which ones?” repeated Foster.

  “Just alto,” Jack said.

  Isobel squeezed Lazaro’s leg in gratitude and shot to her feet.

  “Then why were you carrying two sax cases that night at The Hostelry?” Isobel demanded, her voice projecting at full theatrical volume.

  “Isobel!” Peter exclaimed.

  “No questions!” cried Foster.

  “Ms. Spice, do you have personal knowledge of this case?” the warden demanded.

  “I was there that night,” Isobel said as calmly as she could. “I was one of the actors in the scene—the one who was ‘shot.’” Isobel flashed ironic air quotes in the ADA’s direction, but her eyes never left Jack, who was staring at her with a terrified fascination.

  Around her, the jury began to chatter, and next to her, she heard Lazaro utter a soft “oh.”

  “Order!” the warden commanded.

  “You should have declared yourself the moment you recognized the defendant,” Foster said fiercely. “This hearing is officially ended. I cannot proceed with this jury.”

  “Don’t you want to see justice served?” Isobel asked. “Because if you’ll just hear me out, you can still prosecute the case, only you’ll be prosecuting the right person.”

  “If you have information, you can give it to me privately after we adjourn, and then I will decide how to proceed,” Foster snapped.

  Isobel clenched her fists in frustration. “I’m telling you, you’re not only going to need a different jury, you’re going to have an entirely different case!”

  “I’m shutting this down.” Foster turned to the court officer. “Get Judge Brodhead.”

  The officer hurried from the room, and the jurors began to whisper furiously. The warden raised his hand. “Please be quiet until further notice.”

  Isobel was still standing. Peter caught her eye and mouthed, “Are you sure?”

  “I can prove it,” she said aloud.

  “Miss! Sit down,” the warden called.

  Isobel obeyed, and before long, the court officer returned with Judge Brodhead, who seated himself on the bench. Foster approached him.

  “Your honor, I request leave to present my case to a different panel.”

  “On what grounds?”

  “One of the jurors was a witness to the crime.”

  Isobel shot up again. “I can prove she has the wrong person.”

  “And this case is…”

  “The murder of Judge Willard Harrison,” Foster said.

  Brodhead looked up sharply. “Harrison,” he repeated. He turned an appraising eye on Isobel. “And you say you have evidence you believe will exonerate the defendant?”

  “Yes, but more importantly, I have evidence that will implicate the witness sitting next to him, Jack Haber.”

  “Please, your honor, this is a straightforward case of—” Foster began.

  “I would like to hear what this juror has to say before I make my decision.” Judge Brodhead nodded to the warden. “Swear her in as a witness.”

  “Thank you, your honor,” Isobel said. “But before you do, I’d like to know why Mr. Catanzaro came today, since he’s not required to be here.”

  Judge Brodhead gestured to Peter to respond.

  Peter cleared his throat. “As a defense attorney, I am acting on my own behalf. I came because I want to speak on the subject of the weapon.”

  “Your honor, may we hear his testimony before mine?” Isobel asked. “It may further explain a piece of information I have.”

  “This is highly irregular,” Foster protested.

  “We abandoned regular about five minutes ago,” Judge Brodhead said. “Swear him in.”

  Peter gave his oath and addressed the jury. “This revolver was stolen from my apartment. I have not seen or used it since the end of August.” He turned to Isobel. “After you left the other day, it occurred to me that I hadn’t taken a full inventory in several weeks. And when I looked, I discovered the revolver was missing.”

  Isobel glanced at Foster. “Will you ask…?”

  The ADA threw up her hands in exasperation. “Oh, just ask him yourself!”

  “When was the last time Jack was in your apartment?”

  Peter held her gaze steadily. “He was at a party I had over Labor Day weekend, shortly after we’d been hired for The Hostelry.”

  “You and Jack gigged together,” Isobel said. “So not only had he seen your murder mystery skit before and knew exactly when the fake shot would be fired, he knew what your weapons bag looked like. Where did you keep it?”

  “Under my bed.”

  “Was it locked?”

  “I keep the ammo locked up, but not the weapons.”

  “This is crazy!” Jack finally burst out. “I’m here doing my duty as a citizen, and you’re trying to turn this around on me? What you’re saying makes no sense! What reason would I have to kill the judge? I didn’t know him from Adam.”

  “Your honor, if you would swear me in now, I have evidence to present,” Isobel said.

  Isobel climbed daintily over Chloe and descended from the jury box. After being sworn in, she set her bag on the witness stand and started rummaging through it. She pulled out Peter’s spreadsheet and flipped through the alphabetical listing looking for the name she knew with absolute certainty would be there.

  It was.

  She waved the papers triumphantly. “This is a list of inmates at Empire State Youth Camp, which is a fancy name for an abusive juvenile penitentiary upstate. Jack Haber was sentenced there by Judge Harrison, and while he was there, he befriended Andrew Harrison. Oh, yes, Harrison sent his own son there. His. Own. Son.”

  Isobel took in her fellow jurors, who were hanging on her every word. “In addition to the wrong that was done to Andrew Harrison and so many others, not to mention Jack’s own treatment at the camp, there’s an even bigger reason Jack killed the judge. It’s also why, as soon as you’re done here, Ms. Foster, you should be on the phone with the New Jersey police to talk about the death of real estate investor Angelina Rivington, who was thrown into the Hudson the night before Harrison was shot.”

  Foster opened her mouth to say something, then thought better of it.

  Isobel took a deep breath and returned her attention to her fellow jurors. “Harrison and Rivington were investors in Empire State. Harrison ran a kangaroo court that, yes, Peter lost a lot of cases in. But they were bullshit trials, if you’ll pardon my French. All Harrison was interested in was filling the beds in his investment—even with his own kid.”

  The judge rapped sharply on the bench. “Young lady, that is a very serious accusation against Judge Harrison.”

  “Your honor, I can prove it all.” She turned to Jack, whose face had set into an unreadably blank expression. “You had a different attorney, not Peter. Am I right?” Jack didn’t respond. She cast a questioning glance at Peter, who nodded.

  “So you knew Jack only as a musician. I’m guessing you had no idea he’d done time at Empire State.”

  “Correct,” Peter said.

  “How did you come to hire Andrew?”

  “Jack recommended him,” Peter said, his voice gaining strength as he put the pieces together. “‘My friend Andrew Dahl,’ he said. It wasn’t until Andrew walked into the audition that I recognized him.” He turned to the jury. “I defended Andrew in front of his father. Of all the kids who were sentenced unfairly, that was the most painful for me. I do everything I can to help these kids when they get out, but until Jack called, I’d lost track of Andre
w. It was a bit of a shock to find him again, but a welcome one.”

  “Were you aware that Andrew and Jack met at the camp?” Foster asked.

  “No,” Peter replied. “I didn’t know how they knew each other.”

  Isobel turned to Foster. “I believe that when Jack recommended Andrew, it was a sincere gesture of help. They obviously became very close while they were at the camp together. The opportunity to get to the judge was serendipitous and came later.” She returned her attention to Peter. “Did you know in advance that Harrison was the guest of honor?”

  “No. Not until I got there.”

  “You didn’t know,” Isobel repeated. She let her eyes roam the courtroom until they rested on Jack. “But Jack did.”

  “How?” Foster asked.

  Isobel angled her body to include the jury in her response. “Harrison’s clerk, Maggie, made the classic social media mistake of tweeting about the event. I don’t know if Jack had a search programmed for mentions of Harrison, but one way or another, he saw Maggie’s tweet. This was a gift! What better, more ignominious way to bring down Harrison than in public at a dinner where he was being honored? Jack knew Peter owned firearms, so he came to Peter’s Labor Day party prepared to steal one of his guns.”

  “How did the gun wind up in Andrew’s apartment?” Foster asked.

  Isobel looked at Jack, whose glance at the floor told her what she needed to know. “It was Jack who told the police that Andrew Harrison was at The Hostelry that night. After the judge was shot, Andrew freaked out and ran off, and Peter, fearing the worst, hid both his presence and his true identity from the police. So Jack tipped them off. Why? He needed to get the gun out of his apartment. Either he has keys to Andrew’s or the landlady let him in. While Andrew was in custody, Jack planted the gun there, knowing Andrew would immediately tell the police. That’s why Jack took so long to come forward with his fake eyewitness account. He had to get rid of the gun first.”

  “Why weren’t Jack’s fingerprints on it?” Foster asked.

  “He must have worn gloves when he handled it.”

  “But where did he hide the gun at the restaurant?”

  It gave Isobel great pleasure to heave an exaggerated sigh. “In the second saxophone case, of course! I distinctly remember that night, he was carrying two cases: an alto and a tenor. Why would he bring a case for an instrument he doesn’t play? If you go to his house and examine his tenor sax case, I guarantee you will find that this gun has been living there.” She turned to Jack. “Oh, and by the way, you tripped yourself up earlier when you admitted you’d seen Peter’s show many times. You know perfectly well that we use old-fashioned prop derringers. You said you saw Peter with his gun drawn but ‘didn’t really think about it.’ If you saw him holding that revolver”—she pointed to the gun in the evidence bag—”instead of a derringer, you’d have thought about it.”

  “How come nobody saw him shoot the judge?” asked Foster.

  “For one thing,” explained Isobel, “the band was off to the side, with the piano wedged in between two enormous topiaries. The plant Jack mentioned earlier—it was he who hid behind it, not Peter. He’s already admitted that he didn’t take a smoke break with his friends. And for another,” she added ruefully, “nobody ever notices the musicians.”

  The room was quiet, with every eye on Jack.

  “I’m not saying a word without my lawyer,” he said finally.

  Foster consulted briefly with Peter, who nodded. She turned to Judge Brodhead.

  “Due to additional evidence that has come to light, the People are requesting additional time to investigate this case prior to completing a grand jury presentation. Defense agrees and waives his right to speedy trial for three days.” She gestured to the warden. “Please bring Detective Vitelli back. I’d like Mr. Haber taken in for questioning and a warrant arranged to search his apartment for that sax case. That’s the only way to physically link him to the murder, but if there’s any trace that this gun was in there, it will be enough for an arrest, along with the testimony of Mr. Catanzaro and Ms. …er…”

  “Spice,” Isobel piped up.

  “Ms. Spice,” Judge Brodhead addressed her. “Judge Harrison and this other person you mentioned—”

  “Angelina Rivington of Rivington Properties.”

  “You say you have proof that they had a financial interest in this youth facility?”

  Isobel turned to Foster. “How serious are you about investigating this?”

  The ADA’s face flushed the color of her suit. “What kind of question is that?”

  “There are people who have been working for a while to identify and expose the fraud, but understandably, given Harrison’s connections, they feared that the DA’s office would ignore their concerns.”

  “The judge’s connections are no longer applicable,” Foster said. “Who are these people?”

  “A task force headed up by professors at John Jay.” Isobel glanced at Peter. “They want to use the juvenile defendants as witnesses, but Peter wants to protect them.”

  “With the judge dead, it’s purely a financial situation now, so that may be avoidable,” said Foster. “I can’t make any promises, except to say that if we can verify the fraud, the camp can and will be shut down.”

  There was a small commotion as two uniformed officers approached Jack. Something made Isobel call out to him.

  “Jack!” He glared stonily at her. “I just wanted to say I understand why you did it. And I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t understand anything.” He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them, it was as if a curtain had fallen. His expression remained blank as he was led away.

  “Thank you for your persistence, Ms. Spice,” Judge Brodhead said as he descended from the bench. “I will make sure these allegations are pursued to the fullest. Ms. Foster, please see me in my chambers.”

  The warden turned to the jury. “Ladies and gentlemen, you are dismissed for today. We are back again at one p.m. sharp tomorrow.”

  “Me, too?” Isobel asked, crestfallen.

  “Yes, you, too,” said the warden sternly. “No excuse yet known to man.”

  Isobel sighed and picked up her bag. As the room cleared, she made her way to Peter, who was waiting for her, flanked by two officers.

  “You’ll be out of here as soon as they test that sax case,” she said.

  He shook his head in wonder. “I don’t know what to say. That was amazing. I’m sorry I tried to stiff your paycheck.”

  “Aha! I knew you didn’t forget about that any more than you forgot to tell the police about Andrew.” She eyed him curiously. “I can’t quite reconcile the fact that you work so hard to help these kids, but at the same time, you’re stiffing your actors.”

  “My legal work is all pro bono or sliding scale, so I wind up having to juggle…” He looked down, embarrassed. “Anyway, I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. If you hadn’t withheld our checks, I wouldn’t have had an excuse to run everyone down and question them.”

  “I should have been honest with you from the beginning. Might have saved us all a lot of trouble.” He smiled sheepishly. “I thought you were just another dippy actress.”

  “Well, I thought you were just another sleazy producer.”

  “I am.” He gave a little laugh and then sobered. “But I’m a good lawyer.”

  “I’d say on balance, you’re on the side of the angels,” Isobel agreed. “As soon as you get out of here—and you will—you can go back to doing what you do best. And so can I.”

  THIRTY-NINE

  James paced the length of the expansive, windowed Kroll Atrium, waiting for Professor Lin. He had been surprised enough when Isobel called to tell him he could turn the list of names over to Lin after all, but completely thrown for a loop when she told him what had happened on her first day of grand jury.

  “You know me,” she had said, sitting across from him in the diner near John Jay. “Things always happen to
me on my first day on the job.”

  “Not always. Thank God,” he had replied.

  “The point is, the ADA is moving forward. With Percival’s information, she was able to get a warrant for the camp’s records and Rivington Properties’ accounts. They think they can shut the camp down, although I don’t know yet what happens to the kids who are there and whether they’ll get new trials. They should.”

  James’s hand tightened around his orange juice glass. “Maybe being a defense attorney is a total waste of time. If this is the kind of shit that goes on—if this is how justice is served—then I don’t want any part of it.”

  “That’s ridiculous.” Isobel leaned over and took his other hand, and when he looked into her eyes, he saw more there than just reassurance. “You are needed, James. Truly.”

  “Peter tried to do the right thing, and he almost got locked up for murder.”

  “But he never gave up.”

  “It’s too late for a lot of kids.”

  “But maybe this will be a deterrent from it happening again. You have to hope the authorities will stay on top of this kind of thing.”

  “Fat chance,” James scowled. “It takes a lot to bring down a judge.”

  Isobel looked down at her half-eaten grilled cheese. “They’ve got Gordon Lang and Mason Crawford in custody. Jack is going to testify against them in exchange for a reduced sentence.”

  “So he pleaded guilty?”

  “They found gun residue in the sax case. Just like I told them they would.”

  “What about Angelina Rivington?”

  “Apparently, Andrew told Jack what he knew about the ownership of the prison. Jack talked Angelina into meeting him on the jetty, and he strangled her. They found his DNA on her body. I’m sure Gordon Lang was next on the list. And, of course, Jack admitted to sending the threatening letter and posting as Andrew on that web forum.”

  “Look, I’m really sorry I took your head off about the list,” James said. “I just felt trapped.”

  Isobel toyed with her watch. “We both were. We were forced to make conflicting promises. We didn’t intentionally set out to stonewall each other.”