J.D. Trafford - Michael Collins 02 - No Time to Die

by J. D. Trafford

  “In a good way?” Michael asked.

  Jane nodded her head.

  “I think so.” She opened the door into the hallway. They walked across the hall toward the small conference rooms.

  They went inside the first one available. Once the door closed, and they were alone, Jane began to explain. She told Michael about Maus and Dylan McNaughten’s arrest.

  “He’s going to testify for us. Tell us everything he knows.”

  “That’s the deal?” Michael asked.

  Jane shook her head.

  “There’s no deal. His attorney told him he has to make some things right if he has any hope of avoiding the chair.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  The judge’s law clerk led the attorneys back into chambers.

  Judge Delaney stood with his back to them, looking out his window.

  “Come in,” he said without turning around. He continued to look down at the people and cars below.

  “You know this is one of the highlights of my day, looking out this window. The contrast is hypnotizing. There’s chaos down there, and then peace and quiet up here.”

  Judge Delaney turned; a smile crept across his face.

  “Of course, there are moments of chaos up here as well.”

  Judge Delaney sat down behind his desk. He nodded at Harrison Grant, and then turned to Jane and Michael.

  “Ms. Nance, something tells me that you’re about to do something or say something that creates some chaos.” Judge Delaney raised an eyebrow. “Correct?”

  Grant turned to Jane. Brian McNaughten did the same. They didn’t know what was going to happen. After the discovery of the Jolly Boy graveyard, however, they both knew that whatever it was, they would not like it.

  “Your Honor,” Jane said, “I’m not sure quite how to say this in a tactful manner.”

  Judge Delaney shrugged.

  “I’ve heard and seen lots of things in my years on the bench.” He glanced at his watch. “We don’t have that much time before I want to call the jurors back from break, so enlighten us.”

  “Okay.” Jane looked at Michael, and then she continued. “We were going to call Deputy Maus as our next witness.” Jane paused. “But that’s not going to be possible.”

  Judge Delaney nodded his head, slowly.

  “You have my attention now, Ms. Nance. What’s going on?”

  “As you know, it is the plaintiff’s theory of the case that Deputy Maus was corrupt. He was hired by Jolly Boy to be a henchman, an enforcer, and we believe he killed our client and others when they were not able to work or were otherwise causing trouble for the company.”

  “That’s your theory,” Judge Delaney said. “But I wanted to hear testimony of the direct connection between his actions and Jolly Boy.”

  “And that’s where my objection would come into play, Your Honor,” Harrison Grant said. He saw his opening, and he took it. “It’s the defendant’s position that –”

  Jane interrupted. “But Maus is dead. He was murdered last night.”

  Judge Delaney froze, and then he looked over at Harrison Grant and Brian McNaughten. His eyes turned cold.

  “Do you know anything about this?”

  Harrison Grant shook his head.

  “Of course not, Your Honor, this is the first we …” He looked over at his client, Brian McNaughten. Brian’s head was down. Grant calculated the angles and tried to figure out what his client may have done.

  “Perhaps the label of ‘murder’ is a bit premature. Deputy Maus was a troubled man. He may have succumbed to the pressure and took his own life.”

  Jane gave Harrison Grant some space. They allowed the great trial lawyer to continue spinning his new theory.

  Eventually Grant stopped talking, and Judge Delaney looked back at Michael and Jane.

  “While I appreciate Mr. Grant’s ruminations, I’d prefer to hear from Ms. Nance.” Judge Delaney nodded toward Jane. “Please continue.”

  “Maus did not commit suicide, Your Honor. His murder was witnessed by at least a half-dozen federal agents investigating a South Beach drug ring.”

  Judge Delaney leaned forward.

  “So they have the person who did this?”

  “Yes.” Michael nodded his head. He looked at Jane, and then together they said, “Dylan McNaughten.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  They went back into the courtroom and Jane made a record of the events that had occurred over the past 24 hours. The jury wasn’t in the courtroom, so the attorneys and judge could speak more freely.

  When Jane had concluded, Harrison Grant’s first reaction was to ask Judge Delaney to declare a mistrial. A mistrial could be declared by a judge whenever there was a significant procedural error or statements by witnesses, attorneys, or the judge that unfairly tainted a jury.

  Judge Delaney barely paused to consider Grant’s motion. He didn’t even ask Michael and Jane for a response.

  “The only person who may have grounds for a mistrial is the plaintiff in this case, due to my own statements during this trial and repeated decisions to preclude important evidence from being heard by this jury. I was giving Jolly Boy the benefit of the doubt. That was an error on my part.”

  Delaney turned to Michael and Jane.

  “I am, however, able to correct that error.” Judge Delaney leaned back in his chair. “In light of recent events, I will allow all testimony related to Deputy Maus. I will give the plaintiffs wide latitude to argue for any inferences they want to be made from that testimony related to Jolly Boy’s knowledge of Maus’ behavior.”

  Harrison Grant didn’t push back on the judge’s ruling. He thought for a moment, and then he played the only card he had left.

  “In that case, Your Honor, I would ask that this court grant us a continuance so that we can better prepare for this testimony.”

  Judge Delaney leaned forward, peering down at Grant from the bench. He stared at Grant, and then he looked at Brian McNaughten. Brian McNaughten still hadn’t met the judge’s eye. The judge looked back at Harrison Grant and narrowed his gaze even further. Then he finally gave his one word response, “No.”

  Grant raised his hand, surrendering.

  “Your Honor, I—”

  “I thought my ruling was clear. The motion for a continuance is denied.”

  Judge Delaney slammed his gavel down. The sound echoed off the courtroom walls. Judge Delaney continued to glare at Harrison Grant and Brian McNaughten. He didn’t blink until Grant slinked back to his seat and sat down.

  Once Grant was seated, Judge Delaney took a long breath and then exhaled slowly. Then he pointed at Grant.

  “If I find out you had any knowledge of this, I will not rest until the board revokes your license to practice law. Understood?”

  Harrison Grant nodded.

  “I assure you, Your Honor, that I knew nothing.”

  “Good.” Judge Delaney turned to Michael and Jane. “Okay, it’s your witness. Let’s get on with this trial.”

  “Thank you, Your Honor,” said Jane. “When the jury returns, the plaintiff will call Dylan McNaughten to the stand.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  Dylan McNaughten entered from the back of the courtroom. There were five extra bailiffs on the perimeter of the room, and another three bulky federal agents in plain clothes.

  Dylan walked to the witness stand. He raised his right hand, and then he was asked, “Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?”

  Dylan’s eyes darted around the room. He was shaky and unsure. Telling the truth wasn’t exactly what he had been known for in the past, but now it was one of his only ways of avoiding “Ol’ Sparky.” Ol’ Sparky was the nickname given to the three-legged oak chair built by Florida inmates in 1923. It had a long history of malfunctioning. It had caused dozens of prisoners’ prolonged and gruesome deaths. The previous year, a cop-killer’s head caught on fire after the execution team used the wrong foam cushion in the electrified h
elmet.

  After the oath was repeated a second time, Dylan answered.

  “Yeah, I’m gonna tell the truth.”

  He sat down, and then Jane started her questions. They were soft, easy questions. Jane asked Dylan about where he grew up and where he went to school. She asked about his family, and his hobbies.

  Those initial questions lasted about a half-hour.

  Jane knew that the jury was getting bored, but she needed Dylan to get comfortable. She also needed everybody in the room to get comfortable with him.

  Periodically, Jane glanced over at Harrison Grant and Dylan’s brother, Brian McNaughten.

  Harrison Grant was on the edge of his seat, waiting for an opportunity to object. He wasn’t quite ready to give up, although he soon would.

  Brian McNaughten sat next to Harrison Grant. Although he had a pen in his hand and a notepad in front of him, Brian McNaughten was still. He just looked down at the notepad. He only wanted to get out of the courtroom as quickly as possible.

  “Turning our attention to Jolly Boy’s growing operations.” Jane cleared her throat. “Do you know how they work?”

  Dylan nodded his head.

  “I do. My brother focused on the front office, management, and sales. I got the product picked, sorted, and trucked.”

  “You mentioned your brother. Is he in the courtroom today?”

  Dylan nodded his head.

  “And could you identify and describe him for the record?”

  Jane had asked these identifying questions because she figured that the jury members would have seen it done on television or in the movies. She wanted the jury to start thinking about Jolly Boy and Brian McNaughten as criminals, which they were.

  “My brother, Brian, is the man in the dark blue suit, white shirt and red tie.” Dylan McNaughten pointed.

  “Let the record reflect, Your Honor, that Dylan McNaughten has identified Brian McNaughten, the CEO and President of Jolly Boy.”

  Harrison Grant stood.

  “Objection to this, Your Honor.”

  Judge Delaney leaned forward.

  “Sit down, counselor. Objection overruled.”

  The judge’s message was clear, and Jane watched Harrison Grant deflate. Judge Delaney wasn’t going to give Grant anything.

  “Tell me about your brother’s involvement with getting the product picked and shipped.”

  “He didn’t really want to know how it happened,” Dylan said. “Brian just wanted it done for a certain price. He told me the price, and then I had to make it happen.”

  The answer surprised Jane. It wasn’t what she had expected.

  A silence hung in the room as Jane scanned her notes, thinking of how to recover. It wasn’t sufficient for Dylan McNaughten to act alone in the same way that it wasn’t sufficient to have Deputy Maus act alone. The whole company needed to know and approve of what he was doing.

  Jane looked at Michael, and Michael gave her an encouraging nod.

  Jane took a deep breath and decided she should go for it.

  “When you just said, ‘he didn’t really want to know,’ my question is this – and it’s the most important question in this case – did he actually know?”

  Dylan McNaughten smiled. He was done being the only bad boy in the family. It was time for his brother to get his hands dirty too.

  “Of course Brian knew.”

  “How?”

  “I told him,” Dylan said. “We were careful. There were no emails. There were no memos. We’d just talk about what was going on.”

  ###

  After another series of questions, Dylan started to enjoy himself. He wanted to talk. The apprehension was gone. He liked the attention and he wanted to please his audience.

  “Maus and I were a team.” He leaned back. “My brother would say that a specific field wasn’t producing the way it should, so Maus and I would figure out what was going on. Sometimes we had workers who were too old or too sick. Sometimes we had workers that were just lazy. Whatever the problem was, we’d fix it.”

  “And was Tommy Estrada a problem?”

  Dylan nodded his head.

  “He was a big problem.” Dylan looked over at his brother with cold eyes. He was being charged with murder, and he wasn’t going down alone.

  His brother was just as guilty as he was. Brian just never wanted to get his hands dirty. He only wanted to reap the rewards.

  “I talked to my brother about him,” Dylan said. “It was sensitive, because Tommy Estrada had you. Both of you were organizing the workers, so we all knew about him. We hated the bad publicity. So in the end, we decided to teach a lesson to the others.”

  “Who is ‘we,’ when you say we decided?” Jane clarified.

  “Me, my brother, and Maus.”

  Brian McNaughten rose to his feet.

  “That’s not true. He’s lying.”

  Judge Delaney pounded his gavel.

  “Sit down, Mr. McNaughten.” Judge Delaney turned to the jury. “You are to disregard that outburst. It is stricken from the record.” Then he turned back to Harrison Grant. “Control your client or I’ll hold you both in contempt.”

  Judge Delaney motioned with his hand for Jane to continue.

  “Then what happened?” she asked.

  “I met with Maus again.” Dylan shrugged his shoulders. “I told him that either Tommy works or Tommy goes.”

  “And what does that mean?”

  “It meant we wanted Tommy taken out.”

  There was a pause. Dylan waited for Jane to continue, but she didn’t. She wanted him to say it, and he finally understood.

  “You know,” Dylan said. “We needed him killed.”

  “Like the others found in the cypress grove?”

  Dylan nodded.

  “Like the others.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  “Your witness.” Judge Delaney pointed at Harrison Grant, and Grant slowly gathered his notes and walked up to the podium.

  He looked exhausted. Years of hustling for clients, traveling all over the country, and building an impressive track record of winning was appearing to catch up with him. As he began to cross-examine Dylan McNaughten, Michael could see the hesitation. The wheels turned inside Harrison Grant’s head. He was making a calculation. Harrison Grant was figuring out how hard he should fight. He was trying to figure out if he would get burned again, and how.

  Then Harrison Grant took a breath, stood a little taller, and soldiered on. That’s what attorneys did.

  “Mr. McNaughten, you use drugs, correct?” Dylan agreed, and then they went back and forth about the types of drugs that Dylan McNaughten had used and abused. They talked about the circumstances of his arrest the evening before, and then about his decision to testify.

  “You were offered a pretty good deal if you took the witness stand today, isn’t that right?”

  Dylan shook his head.

  “No, sir. There’s no deal.”

  Harrison Grant laughed. He saw the angles, and then worked them for his client.

  “Come on, Mr. McNaughten, certainly you obtained legal counsel, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  Dylan nodded his head and shifted in his seat. He glanced over at Jane and Michael, as if they could stop it.

  “And your counsel told you that it would be in your best interest to testify, correct?”

  Jane and Michael both stood.

  “Objection.”

  Judge Delaney raised his hand, and then directed Jane and Michael to sit.

  “The objection is sustained. The question calls upon Mr. McNaughten to reveal privileged attorney-client communication.” He looked at Harrison Grant. “You know better, counselor. Move on.”

  Harrison Grant nodded. He didn’t care if Dylan McNaughten answered the question. He just wanted the jury to hear it. He wanted to plant a seed of doubt about Dylan’s credibility.

  “Certainly you hope that your testimony today will lessen the sentence that you may receive for
murdering Deputy Maus, correct?”

  Dylan again looked over at Michael and Jane. He wanted to know whether he should answer, but he didn’t have a choice. Michael and Jane didn’t have a basis to object. It was a valid question about his motive for testifying.

  Dylan eventually nodded.

  “Yes,” he said. “That’s one of the reasons.” Dylan looked at his brother. “And I want the truth to come out.”

  Harrison Grant let out another little laugh.

  “Yes, the truth, and let’s talk about the truth.” Harrison Grant paused, and then started a lengthy cross-examination about Brian McNaughten’s knowledge of what Dylan and Maus were doing.

  Dylan did well.

  He never backed down. Dylan stuck by his testimony, but Harrison Grant did quite a bit of damage. He tripped Dylan up on some dates and facts, and at times Dylan looked shaky.

  After another 10 minutes of questioning, Grant stopped. He reviewed his notes, making sure that he had covered all of the areas that he had intended to cover in his cross-examination.

  Then Grant made a classic mistake. Rather than just being satisfied with the damage he had done to Dylan McNaughten’s credibility, Grant decided to ask one last question.

  “Just one more thing.” Grant paused for drama, believing that Dylan’s answer to his final question would save his client. Grant knew Brian McNaughten had been careful. For years, he had advised Jolly Boy to wall itself off from the ugliness that occurred in the fields. Grant assumed that Brian McNaughten and Jolly Boy had followed his advice.

  “And – besides your testimony –,” Grant continued, “you don’t have any other proof that your brother knew what was going on, do you?”

  Dylan looked confused.

  “What do you mean? We talked about it all the time.”

  “Yes, you say you talked about it. But you don’t have anything else, correct?”

  Dylan shook his head.

  “Anything else?”

  “Like e-mails or letters, text messages, anything like that?” Harrison Grant smiled. His confidence was growing. “You don’t have anything at all to prove Jolly Boy knew anything, do you?”