I step between Angel and Little Richard. The courtroom buzzes. Judge McDaniel bangs her gavel. Angel is sobbing.
Order returns a moment later. Little Richard is sitting with his arms crossed, a smug look on his face. Angel is at the defense table, her hands clutching a tissue. Judge McDaniel turns to Rosie and says, “Do you wish to add anything further at this time?”
“Your Honor,” Rosie says, “in the interest of fundamental decency, we respectfully request that arrangements be made to allow Ms. Chavez to attend her husband’s service.”
Judge McDaniel stops to think. The stifling courtroom is silent. The good-natured smile is long gone. After a few long moments, she turns to Angel and says, “Ms. Chavez, I believe it would impose an undue burden on the authorities to permit you to attend your husband’s memorial. In addition, I think it would be in everybody’s best interests if you focused on your defense. As a result, I’m ruling that you may not attend your husband’s service.”
Rosie tries once more. “Your Honor—” she says.
Judge McDaniel holds up a large hand and says, “I’ve ruled, Ms. Fernandez.”
Strike two.
Angel is starting to shake. Then she starts breathing heavily. Rosie comes over from the lectern and holds her. “Everything’s going to be all right,” she repeats. Then she turns to the judge and says, “Can we take a brief recess?”
Judge McDaniel holds up an index finger and says, “I think we can finish our business in another thirty seconds.” She studies her calendar for a moment and says, “Preliminary hearing one week from today at two o’clock.” She looks at Ward and says, “I presume you’ll be ready to move forward next week, Ms. Ward?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
Judge McDaniel turns to Rosie and says, “Is that acceptable to you, Ms. Fernandez?”
Rosie gives her a half-hearted nod. “Yes, Your Honor.”
Judge McDaniel looks at her calendar and adds, “Judge Leslie Shapiro will be presiding.”
Shit. I catch Rosie’s eye. She doesn’t acknowledge me. She is whispering to Angel as she’s led from the courtroom.
Judge McDaniel bangs her gavel and says, “We’re adjourned.”
Strike three. The disaster is now complete.
*****
Chapter 25
“I’m Never Going to Get Out of Here Alive”
“Angelina Chavez pled not guilty to first degree murder charges this afternoon. A preliminary hearing has been set for next week before Judge Leslie Shapiro.”
— KGO Radio. Monday, June 7. 4:00 p.m.
“We have to talk,” I say to Rosie.
We’re standing in the crowded corridor just outside Judge McDaniel’s courtroom. Angel is being taken back to the jail wing.
Rosie doesn’t look at me when she says, “Later.”
The media throng surrounds us. I catch a glimpse of Ward standing on the other side of the hallway. I hear her tell a reporter that Judge McDaniel acted with great prudence. Rosie and I express mild disappointment about the decision on bail. Then we offer the usual platitudes about the strength of our client’s case. We assure the cameras that we’ll be ready for the preliminary hearing. “We expect Ms. Chavez to be fully exonerated,” I say.
A reporter from Channel 5 shouts, “What do you know about Judge Shapiro?”
More than you could imagine. “We’ve had several cases in her courtroom over the years,” I say. “We have great respect for her. She’s a conscientious and thoughtful judge.” She’s also beautiful and terrific in bed. And there isn’t a snowball’s chance in hell she’ll be handling Angel’s prelim next week.
“Is your client willing to consider a plea bargain?”
Rosie answers, “No.” Then she grabs my arm and adds, “We have no further comment.”
We push our way through the mob and open the heavy door to the stairway. It’s quiet inside and we stop at the landing. I ask, “What about Leslie?”
“I’m sure you’ll be hearing from her.”
“What do you want me to do?”
Rosie shoots me a stern look. “The two of you created this problem. You’re going to have to figure out a way to fix it.”
# # #
Angel’s voice is lifeless when she says, “I’m going to die in here, Aunt Rosie.” Her panic-stricken look in the courtroom has given way to an air of resignation. Dried tears cover her face. Her shoulders slump. The windowless cell is barely ten feet by four. The Plexiglas door reminds me of a fish bowl. There’s a built-in cot, a sink and a toilet without a seat. A deputy walks by to check on her every ten minutes.
Rosie takes Angel’s hands and says, “We’ll get you out of here.”
“No, you won’t.”
“Yes, we will. You’ll have to be patient.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore. The deck’s stacked. I’m going to take the fall.”
Rosie repeats, “No you won’t.”
“Yes, I will. My life is over. Even if you get me off, they’re going to kill me.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know. Dick’s son. Petrillo. Ellis.”
“They can’t get to you.”
“Yes, they can—if somebody here doesn’t get to me first.”
“Nobody will hurt you.”
“I can’t hide in this cell forever. Eventually, they’ll put somebody in here with me. That will be the end.”
“That won’t happen.”
“Yes, it will.”
Rosie tries to encourage her, but loses the battle. Finally, Rosie says, “Angel, you’ve been through difficult situations before.”
“Nothing like this.”
“That’s true. But I need you to be strong. I need you to call on everything you have inside. You have to stay smart and see this through.”
“I can’t.”
“You have to. You’re going to make it.”
Her demeanor takes on an eerie calm. She’s almost serene as she says, “It’s nice of you and Mike to help. But you know it as well as I do. I’m never going to get out of here alive.”
# # #
“She’s giving up, Rosie,” I say. We’re standing just outside the intake center.
Rosie’s eyes turn to steel. “She’s stronger than you think. She made it through her mother’s problems. She’ll rally. You’ll see.”
“I hope so.”
“I know so.” She reflects for a moment and asks, “Were you able to reach Leslie?”
“Not yet. I left a message.”
“What are you going to do?”
“It’s a conflict of interest. One of us is going to have to withdraw from the case.”
She turns to me and says in her best lawyer-voice, “It isn’t going to be us. There’s too much riding on it, and Angel won’t trust anybody else.”
She’s right, of course. “I know.”
“That leaves you with only two options. Leslie can do the right thing and withdraw or you two are going to have to stop seeing each other.”
She’s trying to let me down easy. “Actually,” I say, “you know as well as I do that even if we break up today, there is no way she’ll hear this case. We can argue till we’re blue about whether it’s a technical conflict of interest under the rules of professional conduct. At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter. It smells. It has the appearance of a conflict. It gives us grounds to challenge the validity of the prelim. She knows it. She has to recuse herself.”
Rosie swallows hard and says, “Do you think she will?”
“Yes.”
“What’s the best-case scenario for her?”
“Nobody will find out we’ve been seeing each other.”
“And for you?”
I reflect for a moment and say, “We’ll continue seeing each other.”
Rosie gives me a skeptical look. “What do you think will happen?”
“She’ll withdraw.”
“I was referring to your relationship.”
“So was I.”
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The corners of her mouth turn down. “I’m sorry, Mike.”
“Me too.”
“It’s an unusual situation.”
“That it is.” I pause and tell her, “You should give me some credit.”
She gives me a puzzled look. “How’s that?”
“I’ve come up with a new and unique way to screw up a relationship. I should get some points for creativity.”
“You may have outdone yourself.” She puts her hand on my arm and smiles. “Are you going to be all right?”
Same old story. There are a few things in life you can count on: death, taxes and Mike Daley never gets the girl. “I’ll be fine.”
We’re about to open the door to leave the intake center when I see Rolanda walking in our direction. There’s an unmistakable look of determination in her eyes when she says, “I’ve been trying to find you for the last hour. We have to get down to my father’s market.”
“We were going to meet with Dennis Alvarez at five,” I tell her.
“We need to go now. My dad called. He said he thought somebody was watching him. And he said he couldn’t talk about it on the phone.”
*****
Chapter 26
“Work with Us”
“We haven’t ruled out arson as the cause of a suspicious fire at Pena’s Liquors in the Mission District.”
— Sergeant Dennis Alvarez. KGO Radio. Monday, June 7. 4:00 p.m.
Tony takes a toothpick out of his mouth and says, “Everything’s changed.” He, Rolanda, Rosie and I are sitting on wooden crates by the loading dock at the back of his market at four o’clock. The aroma of fresh vegetables surrounds us. Rosie is eating an apple. I’m studying a photo of the burnt-out liquor store two blocks from here on the front page of the afternoon paper.
I ask Tony, “Did they figure out what happened down the street?”
“Arson. It went up like a sheet.”
“Who did it?”
“It was a professional job. They’ll never catch anybody.” He scowls and adds, “Roberto’s family has run the store for thirty years. Now they’ll have to start from scratch.”
I hope they had insurance. “Who paid for the hit?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Did you talk to Armando Rios?”
“He told me everything would be fine and to keep my mouth shut.”
No surprise. I ask, “Was Roberto talking to the cops?”
“Probably. Where do you think this leaves me?”
In serious trouble.
Rolanda asks, “Have you talked to Sergeant Alvarez?”
“Not yet. I wanted to talk to you first.”
“You said there was something else.”
“There is.” He opens a manila envelope and removes a stack of photos. He hands them to Rolanda and says, “Don’t get scared, honey.”
She studies the photos for a moment and her face turns ashen. “Where did you get these?” she asks her father.
“Somebody dropped them in the mail slot earlier today. I didn’t see who it was.”
I ask to see the pictures. Rosie and I study them together. The first is a photo of the liquor store. The second shows Rolanda leaving our office. In the third, she’s entering her apartment. Next she’s getting into her car. The last is most disturbing. It shows her walking into Tony’s store. There is a red circle around her face with a line drawn through it. There’s a computer-generated note that says, “Smart people know when to keep their mouths shut.”
Rolanda looks at us, but doesn’t say a word. Tony heaves a sigh and says, “You see why I didn’t want to talk about this by phone.”
I ask, “Have you seen anybody around? Have you noticed anything suspicious?”
Tony shakes his head.
Rosie turns to Rolanda and asks, “Have you?”
She swallows hard and says, “No.”
Rosie chews on her lip. “We need to be careful.”
I’ll say. If I were in their shoes, I’d be a basket case.
Tony asks, “You’re the legal geniuses. What do we do now?”
Rosie and I exchange glances. “Call the cops,” Rosie says. “We need to talk to Dennis Alvarez. We don’t have the firepower to deal with this on our own.”
Tony tosses his toothpick into the trash. “They’ve torched one store,” he says. He looks at his daughter and adds, “They’re watching us. What makes you think they can protect us?”
I say, “It comes down to a matter of who you trust.”
“I don’t trust anybody.”
Rolanda sounds just like Rosie when she says, “Mike’s right. You’ve known Dennis since you were kids, Dad. Do you trust him or the thugs who burned down Roberto’s store?”
Tony puts his hand on his daughter’s cheek. “You’re all I have left, honey,” he says.
Her voice cracks as she says, “Everything’s going to be fine, Dad.”
“From your lips to God’s ear.”
“Let’s go see Dennis.”
# # #
Alvarez studies the photos of Rolanda. He asks Tony, “Any idea who took these?”
“No.”
We’re in the consultation room at Mission Station. Tony is sitting in a wooden chair. Rolanda is next to him. Rosie is standing by the door.
Alvarez looks at Rolanda and says, “Have you noticed anything unusual?”
“No.”
Alvarez sighs. “We’ll check the photos for prints. We won’t be able to track them through the photo development shops. I presume you touched them?”
We nod in unison. Alvarez tells us we may have smudged any usable prints.
Tony folds his arms and says, “What are we going to do about this, Dennis?”
“I’ll arrange for police protection for both of you,” he says. He pauses and adds, “I still need you to help us.”
Rolanda isn’t impressed. “I presume that’s the same deal you offered to Roberto Pena.”
Alvarez’s mustache twitches as he does a quick internal calculus of what and how much he should tell us. “Yes, it is,” he says.
Rolanda is visibly upset. “His store is smoldering and we’ve been threatened.”
“We’ll protect you.”
“Just like you protected Roberto?” Rolanda points a finger at Alvarez and says, “Those are photos of me.”
Alvarez’s hands ball up into fists. “His situation was different. He has a big mouth. He must have said something to the wrong person. Word got out that he was going to cut a deal.”
Tony’s face takes on an air of resignation. “How do you know he didn’t give them my name? What makes you think they didn’t follow us here?”
“It won’t happen to you,” Alvarez says.
“How can you be sure?” Tony asks. “They didn’t just pull my name out of a hat. They sent me the pictures of Rolanda. They must know I’m talking to you.”
“I won’t let you or Rolanda leave this building without a police guard.”
Tony says, “I can’t walk around with an army. I have a business to run.”
Rolanda adds, “And I have a law practice. Why don’t you guys haul in Armando Rios for questioning?”
“We did.”
“And?”
“He called his lawyers and didn’t say a word. He was back on the street in an hour.”
I offer, “Why didn’t you arrest him?”
“We don’t have enough evidence.”
Rolanda is indignant. “Sure you do. You have my father’s testimony. Now you have these pictures.”
Alvarez shakes his head. “Your father hasn’t agreed to testify yet. And we have no way to connect him to the photos.”
Tony says, “What if I’m willing to testify that he offered me money?”
“It isn’t enough. He didn’t deliver the money himself. He used an intermediary.”
Tony’s irritation is showing. He says, “So you won’t arrest him unless you catch him in the act of handing me a bag of cash?”
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MD03 - Criminal Intent Page 28
