[Marc Kadella 03.0] Media Justice

by Dennis Carstens

  “No, it won’t be,” Barbara curtly replied. “She’s too young and immature for that.”

  “Well, I tell you what, let’s get her down here and see what’s what and we’ll take it from there. Right now, as I understand it, she’s charged with child neglect, is that right?” he pleasantly asked Barbara.

  Barbara nodded and Marc continued. “But I believe there will be more serious charges coming.”

  “Why?” Floyd Riley asked.

  “Because our baby girl is still missing and the police think Brittany had something to do with it,” Barbara quietly answered him.

  After that brief exchange, they sat around in awkward silence waiting for Brittany to appear. A half hour passed and Marc got up and went into the reception area. He looked at the deputy still seated behind the glass partition, paging through a magazine. When the deputy noticed him standing there, Marc raised his hands palms up with a quizzical look on his face.

  The deputy spoke into the speaker and said, “She’ll be down when we get to her. We have other things to do.” At that point, he looked down at his magazine and continued to ignore Marc.

  Marc went back into the little room and told the others what happened. He paced around for a few minutes, sat back down and Maddy said, “Want me to try?”

  “Sure, go ahead,” Marc shrugged.

  Less than two minutes later she was back with the news that the deputy at the counter was personally going to get her.

  A few minutes after that the deputy came in through the door to the conference room from the interior of the jail and uneasily informed them that someone screwed up and Brittany had been taken before a judge. He told Marc the judge’s name as Marc was going out the other door.

  Maddy stopped, looked sharply at the deputy as if scolding a small child and said, “I am very disappointed with you.”

  “Look, I’m sorry, really…” he stammered. “It’s not my fault. Let me make it up to you…”

  Madeline held up her right-hand palm toward him, lightly flipped the hand at him as if in dismissal and tersely said, “No,” as she followed Marc out the door.

  When they got outside Marc laughed and asked, “What did you say to him to get him to go get her?”

  “Not much. I just asked him to do me a small favor,” Maddy replied.

  “And he started panting like a puppy,” Marc laughed. “But it pisses me off because they’re jerking us around.”

  They hurried into the main building, made it through security and without waiting for the Rileys and Daniels, Marc and Maddy ran toward the courtroom where Brittany had been taken. They walked through the doors just as Brittany, still in handcuffs, wearing a blue jumpsuit and shower clogs, was called to appear. Her hair was unwashed and stringy, she had no makeup on and looked as if she had not slept well for several days.

  Marc hurried up the aisle toward the gate in the bar as every head in the gallery, packed with media representatives, turned toward him. As he reached the gate, the judge looked up at him and Marc said, “Marc Kadella, your Honor. If I may approach on the matter before you.”

  “Certainly,” the judge replied as he motioned for Marc to come ahead. There was a young man standing to Brittany’s left and another older man, to her right. The one on her left was a Public Defender assigned for today’s appearance and the older man was with the County Attorney’s office. Marc joined them at the bench while a confused Brittany silently watched.

  “I apologize for the intrusion, your Honor. I’ve been asked by the family to look into possibly representing this defendant,” Marc said.

  “Where’ve you been?” the judge quietly asked.

  “Cooling my heels at the jail for the past hour waiting for the deputies to get off their ass and bring my client down for a conference,” he testily replied looking at the attorney for the county.

  “Hey,” the man shrugged. “I don’t control the jail.”

  “You want a chance to talk to her?” The judge politely asked Marc while giving the same attorney an admonishing look.

  “Yes, your Honor,” Marc said.

  “Okay. Use the jury room. Take all the time you need. Let me know what’s going on when you’re ready.”

  Marc turned to Brittany, looked at the deputy standing a few feet away and said to him, “Take these things off of her,” indicating the cuffs.

  “Can’t,” the deputy said. “She’s considered a flight risk.”

  Marc looked around at the other four deputies, all of whom were good sized men. He turned back to the one who had spoken and said, “Seriously? The five of you are worried this one hundred ten pound young woman is going to get loose? You guys can’t handle her without the handcuffs?”

  Everyone in the room, including the judge, burst into laughter and the judge said, “Take them off. We’ll risk it.”

  The red-faced deputy stepped up and glared at Marc as he unlocked the cuffs. Marc stepped up to Brittany and whispered to the embarrassed deputy, “You asked for that.”

  Maddy had been standing by the outer doors and Marc motioned to her to join them. As she walked through the courtroom, a noticeable buzz was heard and the judge and clerk waited and watched as she, Marc, Brittany and the Public Defender, Tom Goins, went into the jury room. Just as they did, the Rileys and Daniels came through the outer doors and into the courtroom. As the door to the jury room closed, Barbara rushed forward but was stopped by a deputy when she reached the gate.

  “Your Honor, judge, sir,” she said. “I’m her mother and…”

  The judge held up a hand to stop her and asked the prosecutor, “Is she a juvenile?” he nodded toward the jury room door.

  “No, your Honor,” the man answered.

  “Then, ma’am, you’ll have to wait until she’s done here to talk to her,” the judge said to Barbara.

  “But I’m her mother,” Barbara repeated.

  “I understand ma’am. But you have no status in my courtroom. You’ll have to take a seat if you can find one, or wait in the hall if you cannot. I don’t allow people to stand and watch,” the judge said politely but with obvious authority.

  Barbara, visibly annoyed, turned and looked at Floyd and John and Charlotte Daniels who were still standing just inside the outer doors. Charlotte was looking over the packed gallery for a place to sit. Not finding one, she looked at her sister, shrugged her shoulders and opened the door to leave. Barbara, undaunted, found a row with a small space in it and stepped up to it. She glared down at the man in the aisle seat, gave the other occupants on the long wooden bench a fierce look and they all silently slid down to make room for her.

  The judge watched this little drama with a tiny smirk and a suppressed laugh. When Barbara was done disrupting his court, he nodded at his clerk to call the next case.

  EIGHTEEN

  Introductions were made and Maddy took the disheveled, slightly bewildered Brittany and gently sat her down in one of the juror’s chairs. Maddy sat down to her left and the public defender took the chair to her right, next to Marc at the head of the table. The P.D., Goins, who Brittany had already met, briefly told her what was going on to calm her down and let her know she was among friends.

  “How are you doing?” Maddy quietly asked the noticeably distraught girl.

  “You have to believe me,” Brittany blurted out. “I had nothing to do with Becky being gone. They questioned me all weekend about it. I told them it was my boyfriend, Bob Olson, but they don’t believe me. I’ve never been more scared in my life. I’ve barely slept at all since they arrested me,” she replied close to tears. “Who are all those people out there?”

  “They’re mostly from the media and others who are just curious about your case,” Marc told her.

  “It’s because of all the publicity surrounding your daughter’s abduction,” Maddy quietly added.

  “My folks told me they’re camped out across the street from our house. They have the whole street blocked off. Can they do that?” Brittany asked. “Can’t someone ma
ke them leave us alone?” she added looking at Marc, almost pleading.

  “Not really,” Marc said. “Maybe if they trespass we might be able to get them to back off. We’ll see.

  “I need to talk to you about your case…” he continued. Marc took a few minutes to explain to her how he came to be there today. He told her about the Daniels and the discussion he had with her parents. He let her know he was willing to talk to her about taking her case but right now was probably not the best time.

  “When we’re done here, Tom and I,” he continued nodding at the P.D., “will talk to the judge. I think what would be best is to let Tom handle today’s hearing. The judge will ask you to enter a plea,” he said then looked at Goins and asked, “she’s charged with gross misdemeanor child neglect?”

  “Yeah, that’s it,” Goins answered.

  “Did he explain this to you?” Marc asked Brittany.

  “Yes, he did,” Brittany said becoming calmer as Marc spoke. It helped to have Maddy sitting next to her literally holding her hand.

  “Good. When we go out there, try not to show any emotion at all. Don’t look happy or sad or confused or anything. The judge will tell you your rights and the charges against you. He’ll ask you to plead guilty or not guilty. You just say ‘not guilty’. Then they’ll argue about bail and we’ll see if we can get you out of here,” Marc said. He looked at Goins and said, “We good?”

  “Yeah, that’ll be fine,” Goins replied.

  “Wait a minute,” Maddy said. She retrieved a small hairbrush and some makeup from her purse. While Brittany brushed her hair, Maddy lightly applied some makeup just to make her look a little more presentable.

  While the women attended to Brittany, Marc said to Goins, “One other thing. Make the demand for a Rule 8 hearing, omnibus hearing and a speedy trial. Let’s get the clock ticking.”

  “Okay, will do. What about assignment of counsel? The judge is going to want to assign someone today.”

  “You want the case if I’m not retained?” Marc asked.

  “Sure, but she’ll have to apply for a Public Defender.”

  “If my aunt Charlotte thinks you’re a good lawyer, then that’s good enough for me,” Brittany told them. “I trust her more than I trust my mom.”

  At that moment, there was a knock on the door and a deputy looked in. He told them the judge sent him in to find out how they were doing.

  Marc looked over everyone and asked, “Everybody ready?” They all nodded affirmatively and the deputy held the door as they re-entered the courtroom.

  Marc whispered to Maddy for her to take a seat in the jury box. He led Brittany back to the spot she was in before, in front of the bench. Marc and Goins, along with the lawyer from the county attorney’s office had a quiet conference at the bench. Marc quickly filled in the judge what they were planning to do. The judge had no objection to it nor did the prosecutor. Goins and the prosecutor took their places by Brittany and Marc sat down next to Maddy who had again created a bit of a stir among the male members of the gallery.

  The lawyers introduced themselves for the record and the judge quickly went over the charges against Brittany, read her the Miranda rights, asked if she understood everything and asked her to plead. Brittany quickly glanced at Goins who smiled reassuringly and nodded his head. Brittany pled not guilty. Goins requested, for the record, an omnibus hearing and a speedy trial. Then the argument over bail began.

  “Our office is requesting that bail be set at five hundred thousand dollars your Honor,” the prosecutor said.

  “What!” Goins and Marc both said loudly and simultaneously. At the same time, a significant buzz went through the gallery. The judge loudly rapped his gavel a couple of times, sternly looked at Marc, pointed an index finger at him and said, “Either get over here and get in or keep quiet, Mr. Kadella.” An admonition to which Marc was apologizing before the judge finished it.

  “Mr. Goins?” the judge asked waiting for a rebuttal while Goins solemnly looked at the prosecutor. “Mr. Goins?” the judge politely asked again.

  “I’m waiting to see if this is a really late April Fools joke, your Honor. A half a million? That’s absurd,” Goins replied.

  “We are dead serious. We anticipate…”

  “Your Honor,” Goins interrupted. “She’s charged with a gross misdemeanor, not multiple homicides. She has no criminal record and has strong ties to the community. Her family is here to support her. They have presented nothing to indicate she’s a danger to the community or a flight risk. The defense believes an NBR, no bail required, release is clearly appropriate.”

  “As I was saying, your Honor, before Mr. Goins interrupted. There is a small child missing which is involved with this matter. We anticipate more serious charges in the near future.”

  There it is, Marc thought to himself while silently listening.

  “…and we believe she is a flight risk and a danger to the community,” he concluded.

  “Your Honor,” Goins said, “clearly he’s grandstanding for the media and…”

  “I resent that!” the lawyer said.

  “…and,” Goins continued ignoring him, “trying to inflame any potential jurors by making baseless claims about possible charges they can’t make…”

  The judge held up his hand to stop Goins, then said, “Okay, I get it. I’ll set bail at three thousand dollars, the maximum amount of the possible fine.”

  “Your Honor, that’s hardly…” the prosecutor sputtered.

  “You got more charges to bring, then bring them,” the judge almost snarled at the county attorney’s rep. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. We’re adjourned.”

  Barbara Riley posted the bail and what should have taken no more than an hour took over three to get Brittany processed and released. Once she was out, by previous arrangement, Marc and Maddy followed the Rileys back to their home. The Daniels had waited for Brittany’s release, then left.

  Melinda Pace’s show was done live later that same afternoon. She had film of the short hearing and heated argument concerning bail and a shot of Brittany leaving the jail. Unknown to Marc and the Rileys, the reason for the long delay was to give the media time to get their noon reports in and set up cameras for Brittany’s release. Melinda also showed film of Marc, Maddy and the Rileys pulling into the driveway of the Rileys’ home.

  Following a commercial break, Melinda spent two minutes on a live feed with Gabriella Shriqui with the Rileys’ home in the background. Melinda tried to make a big deal out of the fact that Brittany showed no emotion. She tried to make it sound as if Brittany didn’t care about what had happened to her daughter and was not the least bit concerned. Gabriella neither agreed nor disagreed just evenly and professionally answered Melinda’s questions.

  They talked a bit more about the scene across the street from the Rileys’ house. There was virtually nothing of newsworthy content in this except to show the shot of the five or six media vans lined up on the Rileys’ street. Clearly, the circus was getting started.

  “Obviously,” Melinda began her final remarks looking directly into the camera with a solemn expression, “the police and prosecutors believe this young woman, Brittany Riley, is lying about her daughter’s disappearance. And I have to say, I personally find her story not only hard to believe but quite frankly, ridiculous. This is Melinda Pace and be sure to tune in tomorrow to The Court Reporter.”

  The station had promoted Melinda’s show with titillating promos that were little better than tabloid journalism. That very night ratings would show a whopping fifty percent jump in her viewership. This caused Melinda and the station execs to meet the next day with everyone who was involved with Melinda’s show and brainstorm how best to exploit Brittany’s case and give the public more of what they unmistakably wanted. Before the day was done, Melinda would be interviewed by three national TV networks. She would repeat for the nation what was said on her show the previous day.

  NINETEEN

  Marc stood in
the Rileys’ living room in front of the picture window looking out over the front yard. The curtains were closed and he separated them with his left hand just enough to observe the scene in the street.

  “Is there anything we can do to make them go away?” Barbara asked.

  Marc removed his hand which allowed the heavy drapes to fall back into place. He turned to face the people in the living room. Maddy was on the couch in between Brittany and Floyd. Barbara was seated in one of the two cloth covered matching armchairs. Marc pushed the second one up to the coffee table in front of the couch and sat down on it. He placed his small leather portfolio briefcase he had been holding on the table, looked at Barbara and said, “Not really. If they trespass or become too intrusive, maybe the sheriff will do something but,” he shrugged, “right now they are entitled to be on a public street.

  “Getting down to business,” he continued looking at Brittany, “you need to decide what you want to do. We haven’t had much time to talk, to discuss your case or my representation. Did Tom Goins, the guy who was in court with you today, explain things to you? Tell you what was going on and the process and procedures?”

  “Yeah, pretty much. Alan, Alan Reeder, did too. He came to see me on Saturday,” Brittany said.

  “Okay. What did Alan tell you?” Marc asked.

  “We talked about the charges against me and I told him the cops wouldn’t leave me alone. They questioned me about Becky and where she is. And they kept bringing up stuff about me, about what I did before Mom called them to tell them Becky was missing,” Brittany answered.

  “What’s the deal with Alan Reeder?” Marc asked looking at Barbara.

  “He’s a lawyer who represented Brittany in a wrongful death suit when her husband was killed in a car accident. He got a settlement for her. Alan would like to get this case but we told him we wanted a lawyer who does criminal defense. He went to see Brittany as a courtesy.”