“Yeah,” I said, wondering what I could do.
“Tell me about your Kansas trip.”
While Sol polished off his second drink, I brought him up to speed on my meeting with the Munsons. I explained about the money Gloria had been embezzling, and my thoughts that the money came from Karadimos and Welch’s criminal activity.
“Maybe they found out she stole from them and had her hit. One of Karadimos’s henchmen could’ve done it. Maybe it had nothing to do with the affair, after all,” Sol said. “Maybe we’re barking up the wrong tree.”
“You saw the crime scene photos. It had to be a crime of passion. A hit man would have put a bullet in her head, over and done with.” I paused, collected my thoughts. “Sol, here’s what I think happened. The money is just a red herring. Oh, she stole it from them, all right, but I have the feeling they didn’t catch her at it.”
“You don’t think it was the money?”
“I thought about it on the plane. I figure Welch dumped her. Gloria was becoming a political liability. Then after she got the Dear John, she called him at the hotel and probably threatened to expose him. He flew down to confront her. It got out of hand and he killed her. We know the jet was flown down here that Saturday,” I said. “The pilot is the key. He’ll tell us who was on the plane that day. Any leads on finding Fischer?”
“I’m working on it. But when we find him, I don’t think he’ll tell us Welch was on board. We’ve been secretly interviewing people who were at the fundraiser. They all say Welch was there the whole time.”
“Lots of drinking going on. Maybe they’re just assuming he was there.”
“Will Bonnie Munson be willing to testify at Rodriguez’s trial?”
“Her testimony would be no good. It’s all hearsay.
Wouldn’t be admissible.”
“I guess the pilot is your only hope. Don’t worry, we’ll find the guy.”
“Are you staying in town today?”
“Canceled my table at Del Mar, thought you might need me.”
“I’ll call you after the hearing,” I said.
I woke up the next morning and stumbled around getting ready to leave. I had to be in the courtroom at nine-thirty. Bobbi had said she’d meet me there before the hearing.
Maybe I was delusional, but there was an off chance she’d still show up and tell me what this was all about. I knew I was hoping against hope, but it wouldn’t hurt to be there.
On my way to the court, I stopped at Paramount Chevrolet and while waiting for them to fix my car window, I made notes about the case. But no ideas came. I just thought about Bobbi.
I entered Division 5, Judge Koito’s courtroom, on the third floor of the Norwalk Superior Court at nine-thirty on the dot. I looked around the empty room, my stomach tied in knots. I had to get a hold of myself and quit thinking about Bobbi. I wondered again why she’d been so hostile on the phone. Rodriguez’s alleged confession wouldn’t have caused that kind of reaction. Her hostility was personal, and directed at me.
Twenty minutes had passed when I heard the courtroom door open. I turned to look. Sergeant Hodges swaggered over to me with his partner in tow.
“O’Brien,” Hodges said. “Deputy D.A. Allen asked me to meet you here. It seems you’ve been a naughty boy.”
Here it comes. I knew there had to be more. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Did you think you could manufacture evidence and get away with it? I figured you were smarter than that, being an ex-cop.”
“Maybe that’s why he’s an ex-cop,” the partner said.
“Is that what happened, O’Brien? Got a little clever with the LAPD, too? That’s why you’re an ex-cop? You don’t have to answer that. It’ll come out in the investigation.”
I jumped to my feet. “What investigation? What evidence? What the hell are you guys talking about?”
“I think you know, but I’ll tell you anyway. Allen bought your story about a hidden meter on Karadimos’s jet. I told her it was a line of crap. I’d already checked out the plane. She wanted me to check it again. No problem, I said. What the hell, I’ll go on the goose chase.”
“You checked the Hobbs meter?”
“Yeah, and guess what we found, O’Brien? But you already know what we found.”
“Tell him, Phil,” the partner said.
I stood there in shock, taking slow deep breaths.
“You guessed it, O’Brien. We found the mechanic.” Without taking his eyes off me, he snapped his fingers in the direction of his partner. “What’s the mechanic’s name?”
The partner took a notebook out of his pocket and flipped it open. “Fred Vogel.”
“Yeah, good old Freddie boy decided to come clean, told us the whole story. How you pressured him to lose the logbook. How you made up a story about some hidden meter, and how you bribed him to go along.” Hodges snapped his fingers again. “How much money did O’Brien give Vogel?”
“Forty bucks, cash.”
At least they got the amount right. “This whole thing’s absurd, he-”
“There’s more,” Hodges said.
“More? More what?”
“Tell him about the mob, Phil.”
Hodges turned to his partner. “Shut up, Johnny,” he said and turned back to me. “We know you’ve been hanging with the Mafia.”
“I don’t believe this.”
“You better believe it, my friend. FBI says you’re a known associate, going to their bust-outs. They say you like to party with the Wise Guys?”
I didn’t say anything. Hodges turned to his partner and made a gesture with his head in the direction of the door. The partner snapped his book closed and stuffed it into his pocket.
As they drifted toward the exit, Hodges stopped and turned back. “If you pulled that evidence trick in my jurisdiction, I’d slap the irons on you right now. But we turned it over to the Long Beach PD. They’re conducting the investigation.”
I glanced around. No one else was in the room. Nobody came in and told me the whole thing was a joke. Allen Funt wasn’t lurking anywhere, no hidden cameras.
“By the way, the pretty D.A. lady filed a complaint with the State Bar. Gonna pull your law ticket. And, my friend, she’s filing a motion with the court to have you removed from the Rodriguez case. Won’t be a lawyer long enough to see it through.”
“Rodriguez is guilty,” the jerk partner said. “He’s confessed, doesn’t matter who his lawyer is. He’s toast.”
“Yeah, I heard,” Hodges said. “See ya later, O’Brien.”
They started to leave again. Hodges stopped, looked at me with a smirk plastered across his face. “Hey, O’Brien.”
“What?”
“Have a nice day,” he said. They left the room.
C H A P T E R 30
I watched the courtroom door slowly close. Minutes passed with me still staring at the door. Hodges’s smirking face lingered in my mind.
I thought of my phone call to Bobbi and what she had said: “Don’t call me. Don’t call me ever.” Why was this happening to me? What had I done? Had I overreached, taken on a case beyond my ability? Had I been too trusting? Outsmarted? I’d told Bobbi about the hour meter on the jet, but by the time Hodges checked it out, Karadimos had already gotten to Vogel. The second meter was gone, and with it my hope that the police would reopen the case.
I sank into a seat and faced forward. The room was quiet, nothing stirring. I covered my ears with my hands, elbows on the table, as if to block out the deafening silence.
Karadimos’s frame-up was thorough and complete. My most concrete lead had crumbled to dust and vanished like powder in a breeze.
Ten minutes later, the bailiff and a guard shuffled Rodriguez to my table and forced him in the chair next to me. I glanced up at the guard.
“Don’t ask,” he said. “We’re not removing the restraints.” He stepped around and stood behind Rodriguez.
Bobbi and her assistant, a thin man about forty, marched into
the courtroom, and without acknowledging my presence, sat at the prosecutor’s table. They placed their briefcases on the table and faced forward, all prim and proper. I felt like shouting at her that I’d been framed.
But then I thought, maybe I had let my feelings for her get in the way of defending Rodriguez. Maybe she’s in on it. Sol thinks so. I didn’t know what to think. I knew I’d get over Bobbi. But if my client went to prison because I trusted her, I’d never forget that.
The hearing would start any minute and I had nothing to present today that would convince the judge to drop the charges. Even if by some miracle I could’ve arranged to have Bonnie Munson testify, her statements would be ruled inadmissible. It was all conjecture, with nothing to sustain her allegations.
The immediate problem at hand had to do with the alleged jailhouse witness. I leaned into Rodriguez. “Amigo,” I whispered, “we’ve got problems.” His eyes asked the question, and I answered: “Your cellmate told the D.A. that you admitted killing the girl.”
There was no shock or surprise on his face, no rage, or outbursts of anger, just his same stoic expression. He must’ve felt there was no hope. Felt the system was stacked against guys like him. After a while, the mind becomes numb to the abuse and the body becomes a formless lump of flesh and bone.
“I know you didn’t tell him that, but I have to know everything you said to him.” I paused for a moment. “Did you say anything to him?”
“No.”
“Must have said something.”
“Nada.”
“Tell him your name, anything at all?”
He looked at me. “I told you, I said nothing.”
“How long was the guy in your cell?”
“One day. They took him away in the morning, yesterday.”
It wasn’t hard to believe that he didn’t talk to his cellmate. I was his lawyer trying to save his life, and he would hardly talk to me. “I believe you, Ernesto, but I’ll have to convince a jury when we go to trial.”
He slowly turned his head and looked into my eyes.
“Sounds like they’re playing tricks on you.”
“Yeah, they’re playing tricks.”
“Jimmy, they can’t fool you. You’re a smart guy.”
Yeah, I’m a smart guy, all right. Smart enough to give the D.A. advance notice about my defense of this poor man sitting next to me. “One more thing,” I said. “The cops and the D.A. have filed charges against me. It just means they’re worried, that’s all. I’ll beat the rap.”
“The judge is after you too?” His expression changed to one of concern.
“They say I made up some false evidence.”
“I know you do nothing wrong. Esta muy malo. You are in trouble ’cause of me.”
“Don’t worry about me. They don’t have squat.”
“Squat? Que? What is squat?”
“Well, it means they can’t pin anything on me. Anyway we’re going to play our hand close to the vest from now on.”
“Close hands, vest, I do not understand. Is that lawyer talk?”
“It means we are going to kick their asses.” I started to get hot, thinking how Bobbi had betrayed me after I made a fool of myself, asking-no, almost begging-to take her out.
And all that bullshit about the Chinese wall.
“Okay, I understand. You kick their asses for me too, huh, Jimmy?”
“You got it, Ernesto. I’ll kick her ass, goddammit.” I patted him on his back. “But not today. We’ll win at the trial.
You wait and see.”
The hearing started. Bobbi managed to get through the first thirty-minutes without looking my way. I watched as she presented a few witnesses: the cop who had arrived first at crime scene testified as to what he’d discovered. The medical examiner told the cause of death, which was consistent with a murder, and the arresting police officer explained how and why they had arrested Rodriguez.
There was nothing new, nothing that wasn’t in the police report. I couldn’t object to the evidence or the manner in which Bobbi presented it. I just sat there and waited for the People to call their new witness: Rodriguez’s cellmate.
“Your Honor, we had a witness that we planned to call, but in light of recent developments we decided to save him for the trial.” Bobbi shot a glance at me that could have frozen Dante’s Inferno. “At this time, the People would like to make a motion.”
“Go ahead,” the judge said.
“The People move to have Mr. O’Brien removed as counsel for the defense, for cause. It’s obvious that he is incompetent and-”
I bolted out of my seat. “Your honor, Miss Allen knows nothing about my competence. I passed the bar-”
The judge waved his hands in front of him. “Let her finish. You’ll get your turn.”
“He’s not only incompetent, but he tried to bribe a witness. Falsify evidence-”
“That’s absurd and you know it,” I shouted at Bobbi.
“O’Brien, I told you let her finish,” the judge said in a stern manner.
“I’ve filed a complaint with the State Bar and turned over the facts to the Long Beach Police Department. They’re doing a full-scale investigation.”
Through clenched teeth, I said, “You did that behind my back. Didn’t wait to hear my side.”
Bobbi turned my way and hissed her reply. “You lied to me. You’ve been seen with your friends in the Mafia.”
The judge stood. “Counselors, direct your arguments to the bench.”
Bobbi faced the judge. “Your honor, he’s been seen with gangsters.”
“I’m a criminal lawyer, for chrissakes, who do you expect me to be seen with?”
She whipped around. “You go to their disgusting bust-out parties, prostitutes, hoodlums.”
“They aren’t that disgusting. The food is great, and I didn’t see any prostitutes. But I only went once, to see my client.”
“Joseph Sica? Your client?” She smirked. “The kingpin of the Mafia? Ha, bet me. He’d hire an idiot like you?”
Judge Koito stood and pounded his gavel. “Allen, O’Brien, approach the bench.”
“I’m an idiot? If I’m an idiot why did you ask me out?”
“That’s a lie! You called me in the middle of the night!”
“It was eight-thirty.”
The gravel banged again. “One more word out of you two and I’ll-”
“You deceived me! Told me all those lies.”
“That’s it,” the judge said, “you’re in contempt, Miss Allen.”
Bobbi shifted her attention to the judge. “I want a restraining order. I want to file it right now.”
“Approach. Both of you. Now!”
Bobbi darted around the table and started for the bench. I yelled at her back, “You don’t need an order. I wouldn’t get near you for all the tea-”
“Enough. That’s enough! O’Brien you’re in contempt too. I want to see both of you in my chambers.” The judge flew down from the bench and rushed to the door.
He stopped and pointed his gavel at the bailiff. “Ed, escort these people to my chambers. If they give you any trouble, arrest ’em.”
We went peaceably; no one was cuffed. They took Rodriguez back to the holding cell and we were escorted to the judge’s chambers. Bobbi sat in a maroon leather armchair that faced the desk. I could almost feel the heat of her slow burn as she sat with her hands folded primly in her lap, her mouth clamped shut. I paced behind Bobbi and waited for Judge Koito to enter the room. Ed the bailiff guarded the door.
The judge’s absence had to be a ploy. He was giving us a cooling-off period, time to calm down and reflect on why we were here. The hearing was not about us. It was obviously much more important than Bobbi and me. We were just a couple of idiots who were acting like teenagers. I felt like a schoolboy who’d been sent trembling to the principal’s office to wait for his parents to pick him up and administer punishment. No television for a week. It didn’t matter to me. My TV was on the fritz.
“You’re just like all the rest, just using me,” she whispered back.
“I trusted you, and you set me up.” I walked away from her.
The door opened and Ed snapped to attention. “All rise,” he shouted.
Judge Koito entered and gave Ed a dismissive wave. “That’s not necessary, Ed, we’re not in court. Everyone sit down.”
I sat next to Bobbi in the only other chair in the room, close enough to smell her perfume, a light and sunny fragrance. She squirmed a little and leaned as far away from me as she possibly could without leaving her seat. The judge sat behind his desk.
“Before we begin, I want to warn both of you, if you speak out of turn or to one another without directing your remarks to me, you’ll spend the night in jail. Is that clear?”
I nodded. Bobbi raised her hand, the school kid routine. Hey, maybe she brought an apple.
“Yes, Miss Allen?”
“Your Honor, I’d like to apologize for my behavior in your courtroom this morning.”
“Accepted, but you’re still in contempt. Before I establish the fine, we’ll see how it goes here and now. Do you have anything to say, Mr. O’Brien?”
“Nope.”
“Okay, now let’s get started. The remainder of the hearing will be held in here and the record will reflect only the outcome. Do you both agree to that?”
After Bobbi’s apology, it would’ve been hard for her to disagree with Judge Koito. As for me, if I were going to be excoriated, no way would I object to it happening in his chambers, instead of open court. Would’ve been okay with me to hold the thing in the toilet. We both agreed, and nodded.
“Fine. Now, I’ll ask the questions and the appropriate party will respond.”
Bobbi raised her hand again.
“Yes?” Koito said.
“May I bring my assistant in here? He has my files.”
“No,” he answered and turned to the bailiff. “Ed, go tell Miss Allen’s assistant that he’s dismissed. We won’t need him.”
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