“Stan,” Marc said as he placed a hand on his client’s arm to calm him. “You’re absolutely right, but now is not the time.”
“You’re right. Okay,” Stan continued looking at the mediator, “You go back in there and tell them this. Thirty-five grand and we’ll have to make payments. Final offer. If they don’t take it I’ll find the money to go to trial and he can put these people on the witness stand. Most of their complaints are lies and we can prove it. If just one of them lies on the stand I will make it my life’s work to get those two disbarred for suborning perjury. I’ve had enough. If the taxpayers knew what this bunch from the A.G.’s office was up to, there’d be hell to pay.”
Chalmers left the room looking like a puppy that had just been spanked. Clearly he did not want to go back to the state’s lawyers and say what he had been told.
“Neutral mediator, my ass,” Stan said when Chalmers closed the door. “How much business do you think he gets from those guys?”
“More than he gets from me,” Marc replied.
“Dad, we don’t have eighty grand to fight this.”
“I know that, I’ve just had enough of this. You watch, he’ll come back with an agreement.”
Marc’s phone buzzed, the ringer having been shut off, he checked the screen and saw it was from his office. “Do you mind if I take this?” he asked Stan.
“No, go ahead,” Stan shrugged. Marc stood up from his seat at the conference room table and went to a side credenza that had coffee and water on it. He answered the call and heard Carolyn without preamble, ask him, “Have you watched the news or seen a paper today?”
“You mean about Prentiss?”
“Yes.”
“Yeah, I was talking to Chalmers about it earlier, why?”
“Gordon Prentiss just called. He’s asking for you. He says he’s being arraigned at one o’clock and wants you to be there.”
“What? You’ve got to be kidding me. Gordon Prentiss is asking for me? I’m stunned. I hope they cut off his balls before they hang the sonofabitch,” he said as Carolyn started to laugh. “You’re jerking my chain, aren’t you?”
“No, not at all,” she answered. “He called looking for you. He was adamant. I told him you were in court. What are you going to do?”
“I don’t want his case. I…”
“Marc, you’re a lawyer and a professional. You have a moral obligation to at least meet him,” Carolyn said, chastising him as if she were scolding a child.
“No, I don’t,” he said.
“Okay then, think about the publicity. It would be good for business.”
“The last time I took a case for publicity it almost bankrupted all of us.”
“This is different.”
He thought it over for a few seconds before saying, “Yeah, you’re right.” At that moment Chalmers came in the room smiling and gave Marc a thumbs up.
“I have to go. I’ll call the public defender’s office and have them hold his hand. I’ll call back when we’re done here.”
Marc spent the next hour, until almost noon, working out the details of the settlement. When they were finished he walked out of the small office building with his clients.
“This really sucks,” Jim Engel said. “Because we have to pay for a lawyer and those lying contractors don’t, we have to cave in and agree to something we didn’t do.”
“Welcome to the wonderful world of litigation against the government,” Marc said as he shook hands with his clients. “At least it’s over and you can move on.”
Shortly before 1:00, Marc walked through the door of the arraignment courtroom and into the middle of a media circus. He stood in the doorway looking over the scene. The arraignment courtroom was about double the size of most courtrooms due to the volume of cases it normally handled. On a Monday afternoon it was usually very crowded from the guests of the county picked up over the weekend. It was normally occupied by just defendants, their friends and family, lawyers and bail bondsmen, but today there was a mob of media all seated together in one section and all talking at the same time.
Marc scanned over the horde of media people, recognizing several who nodded an acknowledgement. One of them, a woman stood when she saw Marc and left her seat to approach him.
“Hi, Mr. Kadella,” Gabriella Shriqui said.
“Please, Gabriella, Marc will do just fine.”
“Okay, Marc. Are you here for Judge Prentiss?”
“You look lovely today, Gabriella,” he said trying to avoid answering.
“Thanks. Are you here for Judge Prentiss,” she persisted.
“Did I tell you that you look lovely today?” he tried again.
“You’re not going to answer me, are you?”
“Have a seat and we’ll see what happens,” he said smiling at her.
Marc looked toward the front of the courtroom and saw a man pass through the gate and come toward them. The man’s name was Randy Fletcher and he was the P.D. Marc had talked to about handling the arraignment.
Marc introduced him to Gabriella and while shaking her hand Randy said, “We need to go talk somewhere, privately.”
“Over here, Randy. Look at me and not her when you talk to me, please,” Marc slyly replied.
“Oh, yeah, um, right. Sorry.”
“Bye, Gabriella,” Marc said as the two lawyers walked off to the holding area to talk to Prentiss.
They found an empty conference room and waited for the guard to bring Prentiss to them. While they waited, Marc made it clear that he was not going to represent Prentiss at the arraignment. Randy would plead him not guilty, make an argument for bail and tell the court that Prentiss was in the process of obtaining counsel.
The door opened and the deputy stepped aside as Prentiss shuffled in. He was wearing shackles on his ankles, handcuffs locked to a chain around his waist and was unshaven, disheveled and had bloodshot eyes. Despite the seriousness of the situation, Marc had all he could do to suppress a laugh at how far the mighty judge had fallen.
“What did you want to see me about?” Marc asked after Prentiss had taken a seat.
“Who’s he?” Prentiss asked nodding toward Fletcher.
Marc introduced Randy to Prentiss and explained to him that Randy would be handling the arraignment.
“They’ll read the charges, at least the ones they have so far. We’ll enter a not guilty plea, request bail which,” Randy continued shrugging his shoulders, “I don’t know if bail will be granted or not.”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” Prentiss asked still using the same condescending, arrogant tone he always had.
“Because it’s a serious crime,” Randy replied.
Prentiss turned toward Marc and said, “I don’t want a public defender. I’ve been here three days and he’s the fourth one I’ve seen.”
“You’re in good hands. They know what they’re doing,” Marc said impassively looking at Prentiss. “Now what do you want to see me about?”
“Obviously I want you to represent me,” he answered as if speaking to a child.
“Right there, that attitude is enough to make me say no. Not to mention too many other reasons to list. I don’t think so,” Marc said.
“All right, I see you’re right,” Prentiss said, his shoulders visibly slumping. “I’ll tone it down, I promise.”
“Why me?” Marc asked.
“Because I’m not guilty. And you’re one of the few lawyers I know who can handle my case, win it and not turn it into a marketing campaign for themselves.”
Marc turned to Randy and asked, “Should I be flattered about that?”
“I don’t know. I’m still offended about the public defender crack,” Randy replied, obviously not the least bit offended.
“Let me give you some free advice. Like you said, tone down the attitude. If Judge Eason is a friend of yours, don’t act like it. He’s not a friend or a colleague. He’s a judge and you’re a…”
“I understand all of that,” Prentiss snapped. �
��I’m not an idiot.”
“This is why I’m not going to take your case. I can’t see you keeping your mouth shut, listening to me and letting me call the shots. Is that why you called me? Because you think you can run the show?”
“No, no,” Prentiss said practically pleading. “I told you because I’m innocent. I came home from my going away party, heard some noises upstairs, went up and found my wife on the floor. She was already dead. Then someone struck me from behind and knocked me out. I came to when the police got there.”
Marc stood up, walked to the door, looked at Prentiss and said, “Great story, Gordy. Stick with it. You’ll do fine.”
As he was walking out of the courtroom, now much quieter because the judge was on the bench, he was again accosted by Gabriella Shriqui and two other reporters. He quietly conveyed to them he was not representing Prentiss and made his escape.
An hour later, Marc was seated in one of the client chairs in the office of his landlord and good friend, Connie Mickelson. Connie was a successful lawyer who handled mostly divorces and personal injury cases. She had also been the recipient of several successful divorces and was currently in marriage number six. Connie also had a history, and not a pleasant one, with J. Gordon Prentiss III herself.
“Part of me wants to help build the gallows to hang the sonofabitch,” Connie was saying to Marc as one of the other office mates, Barry Cline slid into the seat next to Marc.
“I heard Prentiss called you. Are you going to take the case and do you need any help?” Barry asked.
“I wasn’t going to, now Connie is trying to convince me to take it.”
“I’m not trying to convince you of anything,” she protested. “He deserves a defense just like anybody else.”
“You want it?” Marc asked her.
“Do you think he might be innocent?” she responded ignoring the question.
“I don’t know,” Marc sighed. “I’m not sure I care. And it doesn’t really matter.”
“He told you he was innocent?” Barry asked.
Marc spent a minute telling Barry what Prentiss had told him about his wife’s death. “The thing is I was at that party with him last Thursday night.”
“So what? Did you see him leave?” Connie asked.
“No, I didn’t. I’m just… I don’t know,” Marc said hesitantly. “Something in the back of my mind is telling me he’s not lying. Nothing I can put my finger on.”
“One other thing, and I don’t want to make too big a deal out of this,” Connie said leaning forward, arms on the desk looking at Marc. “The publicity for this could do good things around here businesswise. It’s not like that sick sonofabitch you represented last year. This case will generate a lot of good publicity.”
After thinking it over for a short while, Marc said, “Okay, I’ll go downtown in a couple of hours and talk to him again, see if he has any money and what the whole story is, then I’ll decide.”
“What if he’s retained someone by then?” Barry asked.
“Well, then he has,” Marc said rising to leave.
FIFTY-FIVE
“Are you still looking for representation?” Marc asked Prentiss after he had taken a seat and the deputy left.
Marc had driven back downtown to meet with the judge and at least give him the courtesy of hearing his story. Prentiss had been taken back to his cell after being arraigned on second-degree murder charges and it was now after 4:00 P.M. Marc was left waiting almost a half hour in a conference room while the deputies went to get Prentiss.
“I have a few names,” Prentiss replied, “but you’re still my first choice. Bruce Dolan has inquired, but I don’t trust him. Will you take my case?” Prentiss asked with a pleading look on his face.
“Maybe. Tell me why I should.”
“Because I told you, I’m innocent. I didn’t do this.”
“Okay, tell me your story.”
Prentiss went over the events of the night his wife died telling Marc exactly what happened. When he got home and was having a nightcap in his study, he heard noises coming from upstairs. He went up to investigate and found her body. As he stood over her, something, a noise or a movement from behind him while he stood over his wife’s body, caught his attention. The next thing he remembered was being awakened by the police and having a throbbing headache.
Prentiss went over everything he said to the police, which wasn’t much. Being a lawyer and a judge he knew he was going to be arrested so he kept quiet. He told Marc about all of the events in jail; the arrest, the booking and the meetings with the lawyers from the Public Defender’s office. When he was finished with the arraignment, he was brought back to his cell and then down to this room to meet with Marc.
When he finished, Marc leaned back in his chair and thought about what he had just heard. Following a minute of silence, Marc stood up, removed his suit coat and hung it on the back of the chair. He sat down again, reached in his briefcase for a yellow legal pad, set it on the table and said, “Okay, tell it to me again.”
“Why?” an indignant Prentiss asked. “I just told you…”
“That’s first on the list,” Marc said as he placed his pen on the tablet of paper and leaned forward to stare directly into Prentiss’ eyes. “If I’m going to do this, I’m not going to spend half my time explaining things and arguing with you. Now, tell me again.”
Prentiss went over the entire story again only this time Marc made notes. Marc asked no questions and just let the judge tell him his side once more.
The judge finished and Marc spent a couple of minutes jotting down a few more notes and reading them over. Satisfied, he looked at Prentiss and said, “Okay, tell me again.”
Prentiss opened his mouth to protest but thought better of it. He shrugged his shoulders, lightly sighed and went over it once more. Marc listened again without interruption, this time while looking over his notes.
When Prentiss finished for the third time, Marc said, “Do you have any money?”
“Will you take my case?” an obviously relieved Prentiss asked.
“Yes, I will. That’s why I had you tell me your side of it three times. There were some differences each time. Minor things. Nothing of substance but enough to make me believe you might be telling the truth. It didn’t sound rehearsed.
“Now, do you have any money? I’m going to need one hundred thousand dollars, up front. I’ll bill against that at three fifty an hour. I may have another lawyer help me and I’ll definitely need at least one investigator. If you didn’t do this, we need to come up with a plausible explanation for who did. From what Randy Fletcher told me, they have some pretty damning evidence.”
“I’ll need a few days to raise that much cash. As to who might have done this,” he continued while not making direct eye contact with Marc, “I just assumed it was a burglar. I really can’t think of anyone. Certainly there are plenty of suspects from people I’ve sent to prison. I get threatening letters, occasionally. I always turned them over to the police. They will have them. I can’t understand why anyone would harm Catherine.”
“How many threatening letters are there?’
“Maybe a dozen or so.”
“Okay, we’ll get them as part of discovery. I’ll need this signed by you,” Marc said as he slid a one-page document across the table. “It’s my retainer. It spells out what we discussed. As soon as you get the money, I’ll file for an omnibus hearing. In the meantime, in a couple of days, you can expect a first-degree murder indictment.”
“Are you sure?” Prentiss asked as he slid the paper and pen back to Marc.
“Sure. The prosecution will portray you as a blood-crazed husband stalking up the stairs of your house with murder in your heart.”
“I want to take a lie detector test,” Prentiss said emphatically.
“No way. First of all, there is no such thing as a lie detector and you, as a judge, should know that. Second, nothing good will come of it.”
“I’ll pass it.”
“So what? You think just because you pass a polygraph the prosecution will drop the case? No chance. I will never let a client of mine take a polygraph. It’s a waste of time. If you pass it, the cops will think you beat the machine and if you fail it, in their minds it proves guilt and they will leak it to the media before you leave the building. No. No way will I ever agree to a polygraph. It’s a publicity stunt.”
“Okay, I see your point. What about bail?”
“When the judge gets assigned, I’ll ask for it. We’ll see. Can you raise more money?”
“There’s equity in my home.”
“Raise the money for me and I’ll see you in a couple of days. I’ll start working on it, but I’m not going on the record as your lawyer until I’ve received the retainer.”
“I understand,” Prentiss said.
“Oh, and one more thing,” Marc said as he slipped into his coat and leaned on the table. “I know you’re keeping something from me…don’t bother to deny it,” he continued when Prentiss started to protest. “That can’t happen. You’re not helping yourself.”
Marc walked to the door, pounded on it and yelled for the guard. The deputy must have been waiting because he opened it right away. “I’ll see you in a couple of days.”
FIFTY-SIX
The Delta airlines flight from Chicago to Minneapolis taxied up to the terminal gate. This flight was the last leg of the return trip for Leo Balkus and Ike Pitts coming back from Cabo San Lucas, Mexico. The two of them had been away for several days on a business trip to meet with Mexican cartel drug suppliers. Despite staying in a two bedroom, ocean view suite in a five-star resort, both men were weary from the trip. This had been anything but a vacation. Dealing with Mexican cartel drug dealers who could find amusement in slitting your throat just to watch the blood drain was exhausting, to say the least.
Like most travelers, the two men were glad to be home. Seated in first class, Leo and Ike were the first to disembark when the door was opened. When they reached the exit of the large terminal building they found Johnny Czernak, his broken nose still bandaged, dutifully waiting for them.
Marc Kadella Legal Mysteries Vol 1-6 (Marc Kadella Series) Page 75
