Undertow

by Sydney Bauer

  David and Sara squinted as they came through the back doors just as a court clerk moved to lower the blinds. Arthur was already at the defence desk on the left hand side of the room. He sat across from Loretta Scaturro, all business-like in a navy suit, pale blue blouse and sensible matching shoes.

  The Kat was dressed to the nines. The suit was charcoal Armani, his crisp white shirt playing backdrop to a subtle designer tie of blue and grey. David knew his gold cufflinks read RTK and his Italian leather shoes screamed straight out of the box. His hair was combed flat and shone in smooth black strips under pendulum lights that hung from the high courtroom ceiling. His face was clean-shaven and, David noticed, his nails were neatly manicured.

  ‘Good morning, Counsellor. Ms Davis,’ nodded Katz.

  ‘Roger,’ said David noticing the Kat eyeing Sara up and down.

  Sara mirrored Scaturro’s professional attire in a pale grey suit.

  ‘Big morning,’ Katz smiled, no doubt realising the gallery was packed and feeling the need to put on a show of confidence for his public.

  ‘Surprised you hadn’t rolled out the red carpet to make your entrance,’ said David.

  ‘Very funny, Counsellor. Make the most of your wit while you can because I get the feeling it is about to dry up.’

  With that Katz turned to Scaturro and shuffled the papers in front of him. David turned to acknowledge the DA but she immediately looked away. Was it his imagination or was Scaturro looking particularly nervous this morning? Actually, he decided, she looked more guilty than nervous and David had a feeling this did not bear well for events that were to come.

  The gallery was comprised of a mixture of familiar faces and unrecognisable members of the public. Teesha, Delia and another man, who Sara introduced as Delia’s ex-husband Tyrone Banks, were sitting directly behind the defence table. Next to them sat two of Arthur’s younger associates, Samantha Bale and Con Stipoulos.

  Sitting behind them and to the right were a large group of African–Americans who Sara explained were AACSAM colleagues, including the AACSAM director, a proud looking elderly gentleman named Macarthur Dodds. Behind them sat the Jordans – Mariah and her parents Elise and Ewan. The Washingtons, David noticed, were sitting in the far right hand corner of the room, behind the prosecution, and beyond them at the back entrance stood Joe Mannix who caught David’s eye and gave him a nod.

  Rudolph and Elizabeth Haynes had just entered and sat immediately behind the prosecution’s table – he in a conservative dark navy suit and she in a stylish ensemble of mourning black; her soft azure blouse, the only hint of colour, capturing the sorrow in her pale blue eyes.

  The rest of the crowd were reporters or interested citizens curious about the case that had dominated the news over the past three days. David had the horrible feeling that if he rose above this room and looked down, there would be a noticeable stripe effect down either side of the room . . . mostly white on one side, mostly black on the other.

  The side door to the holding cell which led into the courtroom opened, and Rayna was led in to join the defence table. She wore a conservative cream suit with a pale pink blouse, her hair was neatly groomed and her face lightly made up. The room went quiet as everyone waited in anticipation.

  ‘How are you doing?’ whispered David to his client.

  ‘I’m not sure,’ she said with the slightest of shudders. ‘Okay, I guess.’

  ‘All rise,’ said the bailiff.

  Judge Isaac Stein entered from his chambers at the front left hand side of courtroom seventeen. He was a tall, thin man with tamed greying hair and bushy eyebrows that acted as a canopy over his pale grey eyes. He was lithe and agile for his roughly sixty years.

  David had been before Stein before and knew the best way to proceed in his courtroom was to act with respect and efficiency. If there was one thing the Judge hated, it was someone wasting his time. Well, maybe two things: he hated the press and anyone who pandered to them, which put Katz right up there on his list of most despised.

  ‘All right then,’ he said flipping his robe over his chair and taking a seat behind the bench. His large leather chair was framed by the American flag to his right and the Commonwealth of Massachusetts flag to his left.

  ‘Ah, Ms Scaturro, glad to see this time suits you.’

  ‘Of course, Your Honour.’

  So David was right, the prosecution had delayed this arraignment to their advantage. But why? At least the Judge had tipped him off.

  ‘Mr Cavanaugh.’

  ‘Good morning, Your Honour.’

  ‘You represent the defendant?’

  ‘Yes Sir, along with Ms Sara Davis, and you know Mr Wright.’

  ‘I do indeed. Hello Mr Wright.’

  ‘Your Honour,’ said Arthur in a half stand.

  Arthur and Judge Stein went way back, but David knew their long-term friendship would not sway Stein’s view on the case.

  ‘All right then. Mrs Martin, as I am sure you are aware, today is simply a formal charging procedure whereby we—’

  ‘Your Honour,’ it was Scaturro.

  ‘Interrupting already, Ms Scaturro?’

  ‘I’m sorry, Your Honour, but before you continue, the prosecution has some new information which may alter the course of these proceedings.’

  ‘Ms Scaturro, as DA, I am sure you are aware that this is an arraignment, not a hearing or a trial and not the place for case argument or raising of evidence.’

  ‘Yes, Your Honour but this new information relates to the nature of the charge.’

  ‘Your Honour,’ David was on his feet. One minute into proceedings and they were already trying to call the shots. ‘What is this all about? The prosecution has already deigned to put an innocent woman through two nights in jail and now I’m hearing they have sat on some so-called new information affecting a charge that was ridiculous in the first place.’

  ‘I am as curious as you are Mr Cavanaugh,’ said Stein. ‘This better be good, Ms Scaturro.’

  ‘Yes, Your Honour.’ Scaturro stood up and started to walk in the direction of the bench. ‘Over the past twenty-four hours the DA’s office has become aware of new evidence which suggests the original laying of the charge of involuntary manslaughter may have been a little, shall we say, off base.’

  ‘So, are you saying you agree with Mr Cavanaugh? Do you want me to dismiss the charge before it’s even been read, Ms Scaturro?’

  ‘No Your Honour, we are saying that this new evidence changes the nature of the charge.’

  ‘Please spell it out, Ms Scaturro. If you were after a build up for your audience, you’ve got it.’

  ‘We are changing the charge, Your Honour, from involuntary manslaughter to second degree murder.’

  ‘What?’ David was up, out of his chair and bounding towards the Judge’s bench.

  The gallery went wild. Rayna grasped the edge of the defence table as if trying to steady herself. ‘What are they saying?’ she said turning to Sara. ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘Your Honour, this is unbelievable,’ said David raising his voice over the din. ‘The unfortunate death of Christina Haynes was an accident. My client has been wrongly charged with involuntary manslaughter, a charge that we can prove is completely unfounded. Now, they pull this sickening scam, just so they can do their dance in front of the media and crucify an innocent woman.’

  ‘Counsellor.’ Judge Stein was trying to regain control of his room. He banged his gavel several times until the gallery quietened and David stopped his advance on the bench and turned to glare at Scaturro.

  ‘You had better explain yourself, Ms Scaturro, and fast, because right now I tend to agree with Mr Cavanaugh.’

  ‘Your Honour. We realise it would have been preferable to have had this information earlier but it came as the result of an interview conducted late yesterday. As I could not reach Your Honour when I rang last night, and considering this arraignment was scheduled for first thing this morning, I spoke to Judge Fitzgerald who agr
eed the information warranted the further charge of murder two.’

  ‘Did you leave me a message Ms Scaturro – at home, at work? I was in a private conference until eight but I certainly would have returned your obviously urgent call if—’

  ‘A message,’ interrupted Scaturro. ‘Well I may not have.’

  ‘There was no message Your Honour,’ said David, getting more frustrated by the minute. ‘Just like there was no message left for me – no call even. Why wasn’t I contacted regarding this insane development? Mrs Martin is my client and this is unfair surprise.’

  ‘We apologise to the defence, Your Honour,’ this came from Katz who had been quiet up until now. Obviously he felt it was time to stand and take a bow. ‘But the new information came from a source close to Mrs Martin’s family and we felt it best to protect this witness from any undue pressure until the charge was formally laid.’

  ‘So now you’re accusing my client and her family of potential witness tampering. Who is this mystery witness anyway?’ said David.

  ‘Your Honour, the witness is a minor and the parents of this witness have requested as much discretion as possible. We would prefer any further information be divulged in closed quarters,’ said Katz.

  David immediately looked to Stein to see his normally cool complexion tinge with red.

  ‘My chambers – now,’ said the Judge.

  David moved quickly back to the defence table, leaning over it towards Rayna and making sure they could not be heard. ‘Don’t panic,’ he said quietly. ‘They can’t make this stick.’

  ‘But,’ Rayna grabbed David’s wrist and he could see that her hands were shaking . . .’ they have a witness, a . . . Who? How? David I’m . . .’

  ‘It’s all right, Rayna. Sara and I will go back to Stein’s chambers and sort this out. Arthur will stay right here with you. Okay?’

  David turned to leave the courtroom and as he did, cast a quick glance towards the prosecution’s table to see Scaturro already scurrying behind Stein, and Katz slinking like his namesake after her.

  It was Haynes who caught his eye. The Senator was staring directly at him, not just in his vicinity, but eye to eye. There was no emotion there, just the straight face of purpose, daring him to a challenge. David stared straight back as if in acceptance and then followed Sara into the room beyond.

  ‘No one speak,’ said Stein before anyone could open their mouths. ‘I am the Judge and I get to go first.’ He flipped his robe up at the back, obviously a habit, and sat down. ‘Let me get this straight, Ms Scaturro. Yesterday you interviewed a witness, who I am assuming to be one of the other three girls on the boat that day?’

  ‘Yes, Your Honour. Francine Washington.’

  ‘And she gave you information to suggest that Ms Martin’s role in the death of Christina Haynes was such that it warranted the more serious charge of murder two.’

  ‘Yes, Your Honour. I—’

  ‘I haven’t finished, Ms Scaturro.’

  ‘Yes Sir.’

  ‘Did Miss Washington give you sufficient reason to believe Mrs Martin acted with pre-meditation? Because I find this extremely hard to believe, and think a jury will too.’

  ‘Your Honour,’ Katz couldn’t help himself. ‘In the state of Massachusetts, a person can be found guilty of second degree murder even when there is no obvious intent to kill or even intent to harm, so long as we can prove the accused placed the victim in a situation where there was a plain and strong likelihood that death would occur.’

  Katz was right, in fact he was quoting Massachusetts Law almost word for word. But this was impossible, ‘Your Honour, I have to protest.’

  ‘Shut up, Mr Cavanaugh,’ snapped Stein. ‘You’ll get your turn. Thank you for the legal lesson, Mr Katz.’ Judge Stein turned away from Katz to address Scaturro. ‘So Francine Washington is saying she knows for a fact that Mrs Martin left Christina Haynes with the full knowledge that she would most likely drown? I am as confused as the defence, Ms Scaturro.’

  ‘I understand the confusion, Your Honour, but Miss Washington has revealed a discrepancy in the defendant’s testimony which can also most likely be confirmed by the other two girls who we suspect are withholding information or lying to protect Mrs Martin.’

  ‘Don’t keep us waiting, Ms Scaturro. What discrepancy are you taking about?’

  ‘Mrs Martin’s entire defence is based on her alleged final conversation with Christina Haynes. Mrs Martin claims it was the fruits of this said conversation that led her to leave Christina and pick up the other three girls before returning to pull the Haynes girl on board.’

  David almost spoke up in protest at Scaturro assuming to know how the defence would play their case, but decided he couldn’t wait any longer for her punch line.

  ‘But we believe Christina Haynes never had a final conversation with the defendant.’

  ‘What?’ said Sara.

  ‘We believe, that when Mrs Martin saw Christina, she was already unconscious in the water. And rather than try to rescue and revive her, she turned her boat around and sped off to get the other three. Further, in all likelihood, Miss Haynes, whilst unconscious, was still very much alive when Mrs Martin first saw her, but her failure to stop and attempt resuscitation effectively assured her demise. In other words, Your Honour, she left the girl for dead.’

  David’s head was spinning. Why would Francine Washington concoct such a story? What would she have to gain? Teesha and Mariah would certainly pull her up on it. It just didn’t make sense.

  ‘All right, Mr Cavanaugh. Your turn,’ said Stein, obviously realising David was about to burst.

  ‘Your Honour, for starters, there is no way the other two girls will not deny these allegations. You have one girl’s word against the testimony of three others.’

  ‘Really, Mr Cavanaugh I would not call the testimony of Rayna and Teesha Martin reliable on this issue. No jury . . .’

  ‘Shut up, Mr Katz.’

  David went on: ‘No jury will believe a good mother and solid citizen like Rayna Martin would leave an unconscious teenager floating in the water. It just didn’t happen that way. You have one unreliable witness, no motive.’

  ‘No Mr Cavanaugh, in fact we have two motives,’ said Katz, smiling like a hyena at feeding time. ‘The first motive regards her desire as a mother to go to her daughter – a natural instinct maybe, but still criminally negligent given Christina Haynes was in obvious danger and on the precipice of death.’

  Here it comes, thought David. Haynes had found a way to play the race card.

  ‘The second involves prejudice, Your Honour. We believe Mrs Martin’s decision to rescue her daughter, Miss Washington and Miss Jordan was based on racial preference. She chose to go after the three African–American teenagers, totally disregarding the welfare of Christina Haynes.’

  Stein removed his glasses, rubbed his forehead and looked the ADA directly in the eye. ‘Are you calling this a hate crime, Mr Katz?’

  ‘We certainly are, Your Honour, for that is exactly what it is.’

  David looked at Stein and could see by his expression that he knew he was between a rock and a hard place. He could almost read the dilemma playing across the old man’s mind. On one hand the new charge was extreme, so far there was no real proof any crime had been committed at all. On the other hand, a girl was dead and her family deserved full investigation into the events surrounding such death. There was also the matter of Judge Walter Fitzgerald who had read the Washington girl’s statement and given the DA the nod on murder two.

  David knew Fitzgerald – as did most of the city’s lawyers and politicians, as the man was a ‘player’ who, rumour had it, considered his position on the State bench as a stepping stone to the Federal Court. He carried a lot of clout in Boston legal circles, largely because he nurtured friendships in high places. Perhaps that was why he . . .

  ‘All right,’ Stein said at last, ‘I will allow the arraignment to continue with the charge now standing at second degree murd
er. But I want to remind you Ms Scaturro that the prosecution hold the burden of proof, and I fear you are setting yourselves an almighty task. I—’

  ‘Please, Your Honour,’ interrupted David in desperation. ‘I cannot go out there and tell my client the legal system she has spent over half her life honouring has turned to stab her in the back. She is a single mom, a decent human being who helps others for a living. This hate crime bullshit is crap and you know it.’

  He took a deep breath. There was no other way to play this but straight down the line.

  ‘I believe the prosecution may be experiencing undue pressure from the girl’s father to push this thing way beyond the point of reasonable,’ he said. ‘I also believe they enjoy the celebrity that comes with such a sensational misuse of justice. I would suggest they have no idea of the extent of damage this racial argument will cause: for Rayna, for themselves and for the greater Boston community as a whole. And further, I warn them that when we throw this case out of court, and we will, I will be encouraging Mrs Martin to sue the State for damages.’

  The Judge leant back in his chair. ‘I understand your plight Mr Cavanaugh but I must stress again, this is just an arraignment. All we are doing here is reading a charge.’

  ‘And denying bail,’ said Sara.

  ‘True, Ms Davis. Unfortunately, until this mess is sorted, Mrs Martin will remain in custody. You will have to have faith in this system, and your own abilities as attorneys to see that justice is done. I would suggest for all concerned that this matter be moved swiftly through the system so that the fanatics do not use it to cause further racial unrest in our community. I would also suggest that the prosecution be extremely sure of their ability to win this case before dragging us all through that nasty minefield known as bigotry.’

  Judge Stein turned to David and Sara.

  ‘We have a courtroom of vultures out there waiting for us to return and throw them a few more bloody crumbs for lunch. If we are quick and efficient we should keep theatrics to a minimum.’

  ‘Try telling that to a sixteen-year-old girl who has to sit there and watch her mother being charged with murdering one of her best friends,’ said David. He was sweating now, his throat dry, his hands clenched, his chest tight. ‘There’s your crime right there, Judge. One girl is dead and now we are going to witness another have her soul ripped out and her innocence destroyed forever. I hope you can live with that, Roger,’ he said, turning to the ADA. ‘Because I sure as hell couldn’t.’