Redeeming Justice: A Legal Thriller (Bill Harvey Book 2)

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Redeeming Justice: A Legal Thriller (Bill Harvey Book 2) Page 10

by Peter O'Mahoney


  He’s not interested in the law as it’s written by the politicians; his rule of law is governed by his moral compass, formed during a hard childhood with a very religious family. He is as uncompromising in his police work as he is rigid in his Christian faith. It took him many years to gain a seat in the front pew of the church, and he’ll never let it go. He stands there every Sunday morning with his devout family, singing heartily at every hymn, brashly reciting every prayer; taking his faith very seriously.

  As the lead detective in the raid on the drug bust, Townsend comes to the stand as the prosecution’s first witness.

  Bill Harvey and Roger Townsend have clashed over a drug case before, and Bill was certain that the evidence was planted at the scene of the crime.

  Some criminals are impossible to catch even though everyone knows they’re guilty. The people on the street know it, the cops know it, even the shopkeepers know it. But they have to be caught in the act. In their last case, Townsend planted the evidence in the car of a suspect, one small bag of cocaine, just to take a criminal off the street. They struck a favorable deal for the client, mostly because the prosecution didn’t want the evidence tested in a court of law.

  And Bill is comfortable with that process. Just because the police can’t catch someone doesn’t mean they’re not guilty.

  After the ink was dry on the deal, Townsend took Bill aside. “If a heroin deal happens and there are no police there to witness it, is it still a crime?” he grumbled. “Of course it is. A crime is a crime regardless of the evidence gathered. A criminal is a criminal regardless of when, or how, they’re caught.”

  Although he didn’t want to, Bill had to agree. That statement made perfect sense outside the walls of the courthouse.

  But inside the courthouse is a different scenario.

  Inside these walls, evidence matters, not a moral compass.

  The issue for Bill is that the police weren’t even after his client when they conducted the raid. They didn’t want to arrest Carlos. They didn’t want to put him behind bars. They want to sacrifice an innocent man in the hope that it puts pressure on the kingpin.

  That’s not acceptable.

  As Juan Lewis had no previous criminal convictions, the LAPD Gang and Narcotic Division Detectives weren’t able to gather enough evidence to be approved for a warrant to search his premises. However, Carlos López, with his previous conviction, became their easy target. They expected Lewis to be in the apartment when they conducted the raid. When they found that he wasn’t there, they had to put the squeeze on Carlos until he gave up Lewis.

  But Lewis and López are family, and Carlos isn’t going to sell his cousin out, especially not to the police.

  The defense attorney believes that Carlos is speaking the truth when he says that the drugs weren’t his. Every time Bill asked the question, there was no hesitation, no attempt to disguise the truth. Carlos was firm and open.

  The truth, however, isn’t a part of his job.

  His job is to defend his clients against the process of the judicial system. It’s not up to him to make a determination of their guilt.

  Luckily, most people don’t listen to the truth anyway, jurors included. They hear what they want to hear. They see what they want to see. They search out stories that prove what is already in their subconscious.

  That’s where Bill Harvey excels. He plants a seed, a well-placed word, a perfect sentence, and lets that moment nurture into a fully grown thought. He doesn’t tell people where they need to search for their truth; he merely gives them the tools to see his point of view.

  Detective Townsend sits on the witness stand wearing an old black and white suit, perhaps the same suit he wore to his wedding twenty years ago. His smile is smug, his arrogance strong, and his patience thin. He has no time for courtroom games; he would much rather be punching people on the street.

  Despite his great respect for the people that serve his community, Bill has little respect for Townsend as a person. He understands that Townsend risks his life every week for the safety of the public and, for that, he’s indebted; however, that doesn’t make his personality likable.

  If Townsend weren’t a detective, Bill would have knocked his teeth out a long time ago.

  “Please state your name and occupation for the purposes of the court.”

  “Detective Roger Denis Townsend. I have been a proud member of the LAPD for thirty years. I have seen a lot in that time.”

  “I bet you have,” Chettle states almost flippantly. Her personal dislike for Townsend is also clear. His old-school behavior, mostly bordering on sexual harassment, doesn’t sit well with this feminist. “Did you apply for a search warrant for the apartment belonging Juan Lewis, but rented by Carlos López?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “Is this the search warrant?” Chettle presents the warrant to the court.

  “It is.”

  “Is there anything wrong with this warrant? Anything unlawful?”

  “No, there isn’t. It’s a valid and lawful search warrant.”

  “Thank you, detective,” she continues. “Please explain to the court what happened after you received the warrant to search Carlos López’s apartment on September 12.”

  “After the warrant was granted to enter Carlos López’s apartment, we scoped the premises for two hours. I was positioned across the street with Detective Bloom in our sedan, while another two detectives watched the back door of the apartment complex to ensure that nobody used that as an exit.” Detective Townsend’s voice is rough and harsh.

  “And did anybody enter the apartment during that time?”

  “Yes. We saw Carlos López and Juan Lewis enter the apartment building at approximately 10:14 am.”

  “Can you please explain to the court who Juan Lewis is?”

  “He’s the owner of the apartment that Carlos López was renting. He’s also a cousin of Carlos López.”

  “Were either of them carrying anything?”

  Townsend leans back in the stand, straightens his shoulders, and flattens the tie down the middle of his shirt. “We saw Carlos López carrying a black briefcase.”

  That’s a lie.

  With his small grooming movements, Townsend is dispersing the nervous energy of his falsehood. To a casual observer, this small error might be overlooked as a normal movement. But Bill Harvey isn’t a casual observer.

  “Did you see either of them leave the apartment building?”

  “No. We had detectives positioned at the back door of the building, and they didn’t see them leave the building.”

  “And you believed that Carlos López and Juan Lewis were in the apartment at the time of the raid?” Chettle continues.

  “We did.”

  Carlos starts to squirm in his chair, almost looking like he wants to explode and yell “Lies!” to the jury. He leans forward, twitching his leg nervously under the table. Bill taps his pen to a handwritten note on his legal pad, catching Carlos’ eye.

  Stay calm.

  “How long was the time between when you saw Mr. Lewis and Mr. López enter the apartment, with Mr. López carrying the briefcase, and when you decided to enter the apartment with the search warrant?”

  “Around thirty minutes.”

  “And why was there a delay?”

  “We had to wait for the uniform police officers to arrive to assist with the search. We were watching the apartment, so we were confident that Lewis and López were still in the apartment at the time we conducted the raid.”

  “But they weren’t, were they?”

  “No, they weren’t.”

  “If you had detectives at the back door to the apartment building, and you were watching the front of the building, where were they?”

  “We later found a third exit to the building – an old, barely used window in the laundry on the east side of the building. This window led to the parking lot next door. Lewis and López must have left the building via this exit.”

  “Wh
y would they have done that?”

  “I imagine that this was an attempt to avoid—”

  “Objection,” Bill states, not looking up from his notepad. “Not factual.”

  “Sustained,” Judge Windsor replies. “Please stick to the facts as you know them, Detective Townsend.”

  “Yes, Your Honor.” Townsend nods like a little schoolboy after he has been told off by the headmaster. “In my professional opinion, I would suggest…” He pauses and waits for the objection, but when none is forthcoming, he continues, “I would suggest that they were trying to avoid detection; otherwise, they would have left via one of the main exits.”

  “Please, detective, take us through what happened after you made the decision to enter the apartment building.”

  “Once the uniform backup arrived, another four officers, we made the decision to enter the apartment building. As is normal procedure, we went to the apartment door, apartment 214 on the second floor, identified ourselves, waited for an answer, and when we didn’t receive an answer, we entered the apartment, again identifying ourselves as LAPD police officers.”

  “Did anybody answer the call once you identified yourselves?”

  “No.”

  “And did you use force to enter the apartment?”

  “Yes, we did. When there was no answer, we breached the door using a battering ram. That’s normal procedure for a raid.”

  “And once you entered the apartment that belonged to Juan Lewis, and was rented by Carlos López, what did you find?”

  “Nothing unusual to start off with. We called out for anybody. Nobody responded. We cleared the premises to ensure that nobody was present, and that’s when we began the search.”

  “Were you surprised to find nobody on the premises?”

  “Yes, we were.”

  Chettle pauses for a few long moments, letting that fact sink into the minds of the jurors.

  “Is this a layout of the premises?” Chettle presents a diagram to the court.

  “It is.”

  “And are these the photos of the rooms that you took before you began the search?”

  “They are.” Townsend leans to the left in his chair. “As a team, we searched the kitchen first, and then we each entered one of the other rooms to search on our own. I entered the main bedroom, and that’s where I found the briefcase.”

  “Did you open the briefcase?”

  “Yes. We believed there were drugs present on the property, and we knew we were going to have to open many products to find them. I thought the briefcase seemed like an obvious way to carry concealed drugs and that’s why I opened it. I placed the briefcase on the bed and popped open the locks. Inside, I found numerous plastic bags of white powder. This whiter powder later proved to be heroin, and the street value of the heroin was deemed to be worth $50,000.”

  “And this is the briefcase that you found?” Chettle introduces the briefcase as evidence, presenting it to the jury and the court.

  It’s cheap, black, and uncomplicated. The sort of briefcase a detective would buy from Walmart.

  “That’s the briefcase, yes.”

  “Is it normal for drugs to be transported via this type of briefcase?”

  “It’s not unusual, but drugs can be transported in anything. Bags, cars, clothes, the postal service – you can find them stored anywhere. And that means we have to look everywhere. I could spend a whole day telling you about the strange places we have found drugs. So, no, the briefcase certainly wasn’t an unusual place to find drugs.”

  “When did Carlos López return to the apartment?”

  “He returned to the apartment just before 3:00 pm in the afternoon.”

  “And when he returned, what did you do?”

  “We arrested Carlos López for the possession of drugs.”

  “Did you read him his Miranda rights after you made the arrest?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “Thank you, detective. No further questions.”

  “Defense, your witness,” Judge Windsor calls firmly.

  Testing Townsend’s patience, Bill takes time to review his notes. It’s a deliberate ploy; he’s asserting a sense of authority in the courtroom. This is his place, and now Townsend can play by his rules.

  “Thank you for your time, Detective Townsend,” he begins after four long minutes of silence. “Did you take video evidence of the raid?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “And is this the video?” Bill introduces the video to the court, pointing at the television screen at the side of the room.

  “Yes, it appears so.”

  For the next six minutes, the court watches the beginning of the raid. Townsend calls out for any persons present, breaks through the door, ensures there are no other people in the apartment, and then he begins to conduct the search, leaving the small camera device resting on the kitchen bench.

  “It’s normal procedure to video a drug raid?” Bill asks as he pauses the recording.

  “Where we have the resources to do it, we conduct raids using video recording.”

  “Why did you remove the video recording device from your shoulder and leave it on the kitchen bench?”

  “When the premises have been secured, it’s normal procedure to leave the recording device in a place that covers the greatest area for recording. In this case, it was the kitchen bench. You could see the hallway, part of the kitchen, and the living room.”

  “And is this you in the video?” The video pauses on a quick moment of Townsend walking down the hallway of the apartment.

  “It’s a bit blurry, but yes, it appears to be me.”

  “And are you carrying a large gym bag as you walk down the hallway – before you enter the bedroom?”

  “Ah.” Townsend didn’t expect that question. He thought he kept that bag out of view of the camera. “Yes. In that bag is the equipment that I needed to conduct the search.”

  “Such as?”

  “Things needed to check the apartment. Fingerprint dusting tools, torch, screwdrivers… that sort of thing. You never know when you need it. It’s our ‘goody’ bag. Every raid has one, but sometimes they’re left in the car and collected once the premises have been secured. I decided to take it with me because I made an assessment that the raid wouldn’t be dangerous. I considered the circumstances, and that was the conclusion I came to.”

  “It seems rather a large bag for that.”

  “I’m not sure what you’re saying?”

  “Is that bag large enough to fit a briefcase in it?”

  “Objection!” Chettle calls out. “What the defense is suggesting here has no evidence.”

  “Do you have any evidence that may support making that claim, Mr. Harvey?” Judge Windsor leans forward and asks.

  “No, Your Honor.”

  “Then the objection is sustained. Strike that question from the record. Move on, Mr. Harvey.”

  Chettle marks it down as a win for her, but the damage is already done. The jurors are already questioning whether the bag was large enough to have held the briefcase. The seed has been planted.

  “And you entered the apartment with this bag? Is it usual procedure to enter an apartment with that bag at the time of a raid?”

  “No.” Townsend pauses for a few moments. “It’s not usual procedure, but it’s what I needed for that day. I decided to bring that bag with us on this raid.”

  “And this is the usual procedure, is it?”

  “No, but it’s not unusual. And I have already answered that question.”

  “Hmm…” Bill runs his fingers over his jawline, pausing again, not because he needs the time to think, but because he wants to provide the jury a few moments to process the information. “Was anyone else in the bedroom when you found the briefcase?”

  “No, not when I found the briefcase.”

  “Just you and this ‘goody’ bag?”

  Townsend hesitates before answering. “Yes.”

  “Is it usual procedure
to search a room by yourself?”

  “Sometimes we do it, and it’s not against the law. The facts of this case are that we had a tip-off that there were drugs in the apartment and we had a warrant to search the apartment. When I searched the main bedroom, I found a suspicious briefcase, and when I opened the briefcase, I found that it was full of drugs. Those are the facts.”

  “And, of course, you left the video camera in the kitchen, so there is no video of you in the bedroom before you opened the briefcase?”

  “No. In the time before video recording, it was quite normal procedure to search a room without someone recording everything.” His sarcasm is clear.

  “You found the drugs when you were in the room by yourself, with the bag?”

  “Yes.” Townsend glares hard at the defense table.

  “Nobody else saw the briefcase before you opened it?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “Just you?”

  “Objection,” Chettle calls out. “The witness has clearly answered this question already.”

  “Withdrawn.” Bill looks back down at his notes. “And tell me, who made the tip-off that there were drugs in the apartment?”

  “It was an anonymous tip-off. It came through on our tip-off line.”

  “And is it usual procedure to raid every house given in a tip-off via a telephone line?”

  “No, but this tip-off gave quite detailed information of the drugs, the whereabouts, and given the criminal history of the resident, we made a decision to follow up on the tip-off. It proved correct.”

  “Did the tip-off provide details of who owned the drugs?”

  “No, it didn’t. It stated that the drugs would be at that location during that time. That’s all we knew.”

  “Detective Townsend, did you make the arrest of Carlos López?”

  “Yes.” He rolls his eyes.

  “Did you read him his Miranda rights when you arrested him?”

  “Yes.”

  “And did he say anything when you arrested him?”

  “He did.”

  “And what did he say?”

  “He was innocent.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Yes.”

  “And what was that?”

  Townsend pauses and sighs, adjusting his tie again. “He said that it was a setup. He said that the briefcase didn’t belong to him.”

 

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