"Louie says to tell you 'thanks'. You droppin' de word to Benny about de bruddas, kept things real cool. Now everting's copacetic."
I was thrilled that I could do my part to keep things on an even keel in the underworld.
CHAPTER 12
Maggie and I had just sat down to supper when the phone rang.
“Walt, this is Crenshaw.”
I recognized the voice. “What’s up, Officer?”
“I think maybe you should come over to the Three Trails. There’s been a shooting. We’ve got a body.”
My mind immediately went to Mary.
“Mary Murphy! Is she okay?”
“Actually, Walt, Mary was the shooter.”
Maggie and I threw on our coats and headed out the door.
When we arrived at the Three Trails, cruisers with lights flashing had blocked the street and crime scene tape was strung around the hotel.
A body lay in a pool of blood at the end of the sidewalk and my old friend Mary was on the porch in handcuffs.
I looked for Crenshaw, but before I could find him, Detective Derek Blaylock waved me over.
“Blaylock! What are you doing here?”
Blaylock was one of the senior detectives in Homicide. We had worked together on several cases. He was a good cop and a friend.
“Direct orders from the Chief. When word came down that there had been a shooting at a building owned by a cop, the brass wanted to make sure everything was done by the book.”
“Why is that so important?”
“It’s about all this vigilante and armed citizen crap. It’s bad enough when ordinary folks start blowing each other away, but when a cop is involved in any way, they want to cover their bases.”
“So what happened?”
“Looks like the guy on the sidewalk, Mario Bondell, broke into Ms. Murphy’s apartment and threatened her with a knife.
“She pulled a gun and he ran out the door. She followed him and shot him dead.”
“So it’s self defense. Why is Mary in handcuffs?”
“I’m afraid it’s not that simple, Walt. Look where the body is laying.”
“Yeah, so?”
“So the guy was fleeing. The immediate threat of bodily harm was gone. She chased the guy and gunned him down. I’m afraid that this is second degree murder --- at the least manslaughter.”
“But it’s Mary!”
“Exactly! And that’s why the Chief wanted me here. With all the publicity going on with this armed citizen stuff, we can’t just sweep something like this under a rug, especially since she’s a close friend of a cop. The press would crucify us.”
“Can I talk to her?”
“Not now. We’re taking her downtown to central booking. After she’s processed you can see her.”
Just then an officer led my old friend, trussed in handcuffs, to a waiting cruiser.
For just a moment our eyes met and I could see the terror etched in her face.
In that instant, I wasn’t a cop. I was just like a hundred other guys I had seen on TV as they watched a loved one being taken away, and I shouted, “Mary! Don’t say a word to anyone! Not a word! I’ll see you at the station.”
Tears flooded my eyes as I saw Mary’s face, pleading with me, as the cruiser pulled away.
I dropped Maggie off at our apartment and headed downtown.
On the way, I tried to wrap my head around what had just happened.
It was like a bad dream --- no, a nightmare, and the image of Mary’s pleading face kept popping into my mind.
I parked and made my way to central booking and was surprised to see Captain Short there at this late hour.
When he saw me, he took my hand. “Walt, I’m so sorry about Mary.”
“Captain, why are you here this late?”
“I wanted to see you in person --- to talk to you.”
“Well I’m glad you’re here. Maybe we can get this mess cleared up.”
“That’s why I needed to see you. I’m afraid we’re not going to be able to make this go away.”
I was stunned. “Why not? I don’t understand.”
“Walt, it all boils down to this --- the department has been taking it in the shorts from the press and the powers-that-be have decided it’s time to take a stand against all this armed citizen crap.
“They’ve been looking for a solid case to prosecute as a warning to our citizen gunslingers and Mary’s situation seems to fill the bill, especially since she works for a cop. The image they want to project is that the City is tough on crime --- no exceptions.”
“So this came from the Chief?”
“No, Walt. Higher up the food chain than that. The department would never throw one of its own under the bus for publicity’s sake.”
“Who then? The Mayor?”
The Captain just shrugged his shoulders, but it was obvious that the answer was ‘yes’.
“So this is all about politics? Mary’s is being offered as the sacrificial lamb to polish the Mayor’s public image?”
The Captain shrugged again. “I’m really sorry, Walt. I wish there was something I could do.”
“Well, I have some vacation days coming. I’d really like to take some time off until this thing is settled.”
“Take as much time as you need. Mary needs you.”
The guy from booking stuck his head out of the door.
“Walt, we’re through processing Mary. You can see her now if you want to.”
I followed him to a holding cell and saw Mary sitting there on a cot with a glazed look in her eyes.
When she saw me, she rushed to the bars. “Oh, Mr. Walt. I knew you’d come. What’s going to happen to me?”
“You haven’t made any statements, have you?”
“No! You said not to.”
“Good. You will be arraigned in the morning and then we’ll get you out on bail.”
“I gotta spend the night here?”
“I’m afraid so, but we’ll get you out tomorrow.”
“Mr. Walt, I’m scared --- more scared than I’ve ever been.”
“I know, Mary. Try not to worry and try to get some sleep. We’ll work through this together. I’ll be with you every step of the way.”
“Thank you, Mr. Walt.”
As I drove home, my first reaction was sadness, seeing Mary like that.
Then, the more I thought about the situation, the madder I became.
From the moment the badge was pinned on my chest, I had been proud to be an ambassador for our City, but at that moment, all I was feeling was contempt.
After I joined the force, I came to realize that justice is like a big chess game, the criminals on the street versus the law.
Guys on the beat like Ox and me are merely pawns, manning the front lines, and, as in chess, it’s sometimes good strategy to sacrifice a pawn for the greater good.
The Captains are the knights, doglegging through the red tape of the law, trying to make the best case against the perps.
The Chief is the castle, charged with bridging the gap between the working stiffs and City Hall.
The Prosecuting Attorneys are the bishops, seeing the law from every possible diagonal rather than straight on.
The Mayor is the queen, the most powerful piece on the board, with the ability to move in any direction that suits his fancy, and, of course, the queen must be protected at all costs.
The king is the citizen on the street and if all of the other pieces fail to do their jobs, it is the king that falls to the opposing forces.
In chess, it is the duty of every other piece to protect the king, but unfortunately, I had discovered that in real life, sometimes even the king is sacrificed to protect the interests of the queen.
In my two years on the force, I had seen hardened criminals walk free due to procedural errors, expediency or deals made to catch a bigger fish.
It was all part of the game.
But now, it was my good friend, Mary, the sweetest, most law-abidin
g citizen you would ever want to meet, that was being hung out to dry as an example in the City’s ‘get tough’ policy.
The Mayor was using Mary to take the heat off of himself and I wasn’t about to let that happen.
I flipped open my cell phone and dialed the home number of a lawyer friend of mine.
“Hi, this is Walt. I need a favor. You probably have a list of home or cell phone numbers for attorneys, don’t you?”
In just a few minutes, I had the number I was looking for.
I dialed and the phone was answered on the third ring.
“Hello. Suzanne Romero here.”
“Ms. Romero, so sorry to bother you at home. I’m Officer Walt Williams and I need your help!”
The courtroom was crowded as it always was when Suzanne Romero was at the defense table.
The bailiff called the court to order and Judge Warren Franklin took the bench.
The case was called and the judge asked for appearances.
“Bernard Larkin for the Commonwealth, Your Honor.”
Everyone was surprised to see the District Attorney himself presiding over the trial and not one of his minions.
“Suzanne Romero for the defense.”
“You may proceed, Mr. District Attorney.”
“Case number 319455, the Commonwealth versus Mary Murphy on the charge of murder in the second degree.”
“How does you client plead, Ms. Romero?”
“Not guilty, Your Honor.”
“So noted. Is there a request for bail?”
“Yes, Your Honor. Ms. Murphy has no criminal record; she is gainfully employed and is not a flight risk. We ask that she be released on her own recognizance.”
“Any objection, Mr. Prosecutor?”
“Yes, Your Honor. This is a felony murder charge. We would have no objection to bail in the amount of fifty thousand dollars.”
“So ordered!” The judge banged his gavel and called for the next case.
The bailiff led Mary out of the courtroom and Suzanne motioned for me to meet them in a conference room.
When we were all together, Mary’s first comment was, “Mr. Walt. I ain’t got fifty thousand dollars. I barely got fifty dollars. Does that mean I gotta stay here?”
“No, Mary. I’ll take care of that. You’ll be out of here by noon.”
I figured this was coming and I had made arrangements to use my apartment building to guarantee bail.
Suzanne Romero was all business.
“Mary, the District Attorney has offered us a deal.”
“What kind of deal?”
“You are being charged with second degree murder. If you’re convicted, you could get up to twenty years. At your age that would most likely be a life sentence.
“If you are willing to plead guilty to manslaughter, they will recommend five years. With good behavior you could be out in two.”
“I’d have to go to jail for two years? For killing a guy that broke into my place and put a knife to my throat? That just ain’t right!”
“No, it’s not right, but that’s the offer on the table.”
Mary thought for a moment. “I’m just too damn old to be some prison dyke’s bitch for two years.”
Suzanne smiled, “Mary, you’ve been watching too much cable TV. Most likely we could get you in a minimum-security facility. Some of them are almost like a country club.”
Mary looked at me. “What about the hotel. Who would run the hotel for you?”
“Let’s not worry about that. Let’s figure out what’s best for you.”
Mary thought some more. “I’m seventy-three. It don’t matter whether it’s two years or twenty. Either one would be a life sentence for me. I killed that guy fair and square and I ain’t apologizing for it.”
“Well, Suzanne,” I said, “what are our chances? I’ve seen you let rapists and drug dealers walk out of here free men, can you do the same for Mary?”
“First, I took those cases because someone in your department screwed up and deprived the jerks of their civil rights.
“It’s not about getting a criminal off the hook. It’s about protecting our constitutional rights.
“If governments are not held accountable and made to obey the law that affects every American citizen. Just ask someone in Iran or Cuba what it’s like when the government can bend the laws to suit their own purposes.
“The law has to apply to everyone or it’s not justice.”
I had never really looked at it from that perspective before.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to ridicule you.”
“Yeah, I get that a lot.”
“So, do you see any loopholes in this case?”
“Unfortunately, no. It looks like everything was done by the book. Your Detective Blaylock dotted all his i’s and crossed all his t’s.”
“I was afraid of that. He’s a good cop.
“So is there any chance at all?”
“Yes there is, but it’s not based on a procedural flaw. Our success or failure will depend on how the jury interprets the ‘Castle Law’.”
“What’s that?”
“As you might surmise from the name, the whole concept is based on the idea that a man’s home is his castle and he has the right to defend it from intruders.
“In 2007 the Missouri legislature passed its’ version of the law, basically saying that a person can use physical force upon another person when and to the extent he reasonably believes such force to be necessary to defend himself or a third person from what he reasonably believes to be the use or imminent use of unlawful force by such other person.”
“But that’s what I did!” Mary protested.
“If you had shot him inside your home, we wouldn’t be here today, but you didn’t. The guy was running away and you chased him and shot him on the sidewalk.
“Our whole case will depend on our ability to convince a jury that your actions were reasonable and justifiable.”
“Can we win?” I asked.
“It’s a crap shoot. It all depends on the jury.”
I looked at Mary. “I’ve seen this lady in the courtroom and she’s a tiger. If anyone can get you off, it’s her.
“Do you want to roll the dice or take the D.A.’s deal?”
“Hell no I ain’t takin’ no deal. Let’s do it!”
I had to give Suzanne Romero credit. She had said our case depended not on the law but on winning the jury and by the day of the trial, the jury pool knew most everything there was to know about the lovable, seventy-three year old spinster that was being railroaded with a murder charge.
If the Mayor’s agenda had been to get positive press from the case, just the opposite was occurring.
Letters to the editor and call-in talk shows gave unwavering support to the courageous old lady that had blown away an intruder.
We had hoped that with public opinion on our side, the Mayor would relent and drop the charges, but his position was that ‘the law was the law’ and he wasn’t about to back down from his ‘get tough against crime’ policy.
The trial began the week before Christmas and we all kept our fingers crossed that Mary would be there to celebrate with us.
Bernard Larkin was a skilled attorney and wasted no time in establishing the groundwork for his case.
His first witness was Detective Blaylock.
“Detective, on the evening in question, when you arrived on the scene, what did you observe?”
“I saw a body laying in a pool of blood on the sidewalk in front of the Three Trails Hotel.
“The defendant, Mary Murphy, was sitting on the front step and a revolver was on the step beside her.”
“What did you do then?”
“I approached Ms. Murphy and asked her what happened.
“She pointed to her front door and said that the victim ---”
“Objection!” Romero shouted. “The prosecution is characterizing Mario Bondell as a victim and clearly he was the aggressor and Ms. Murphy was the v
ictim.”
“Sustained. Please rephrase your question.”
“So detective, what did Ms. Murphy tell you?”
“She said that Bondell had broken into her home, threatened her with a knife and took rent money which she had been collecting. She produced a pistol and Bondell fled.”
“What did she say happened next?”
“She said that she pursued Bondell to her front porch and told him to stop. When he didn’t stop, she fired her weapon striking Bondell. He fell to the sidewalk and died.”
Shouts and cheers arose from the galley.
“ORDER!” barked the judge, banging his gavel. “If there is another such outburst, I will clear this courtroom! Proceed.”
“Detective, how far was it from the porch to where Mr. Bondell was laying.”
“Exactly twenty-three feet.”
“So Mary Murphy admitted to shooting and taking the life of Mario Bondell?”
“Yes, she did.”
He turned to Suzanne, “Your witness.”
“Detective, you testified that Mario Bondell fled. When you were at the scene did the Medical Examiner determine where Bondell was shot?”
I could see Blaylock squirm in his chair. “He was shot in the chest.”
“If he was fleeing, wouldn’t the entry wound be in his back?”
“Uhhh, well there could be any number of reasons that the entry wound was in the chest.”
“Really, name one!”
Larkin rose to his feet. “Objection. Calls for speculation.”
“I’ll say it does,” she retorted. “I’ll withdraw the question --- for now.
“When you examined the body, did you find a knife?”
“Yes, a switchblade knife was laying under Bondell’s body.”
“What else did you find?”
“There were several envelopes containing cash and there were names written on the outside.
“Detective, did you examine Ms. Murphy’s front door?”
“Yes, it was apparent that there had been forced entry.”
“And did you dust for prints?”
“Yes, we did find Mario Bondell’s prints on the door.”
[Lady Justice 07] - Lady Justice and the Vigilante Page 11
