“He said that Wright’s methods in general have been so abusive that many of his cases have been thrown out of court. He said that subjecting officials like Judge Tauber to trial in the newspapers before Wright’s dubious indictment is examined is outrageous. He said it’s about time Wright’s romance with the media is curtailed.”
“Wright sure gets a lot of people worked up, doesn’t he?”
“That he does,” said the Governor, looking out the window. They were over Yonkers. “He’s got everyone in the criminal justice system hopping. And that’s exactly what he was supposed to do. But, hell, Dan, he can’t recklessly indict people, using illegal methods.”
“You think that’s what he’s doing?”
“I asked Judge Borden the same question, and he said he would speak to the administrative judge in Kings County, where Judge Tauber’s case is going to be tried, and ask that this case be handled as expeditiously as possible. Borden felt that the surest way to get to the bottom of what Wright is doing is to let the system work, let the defense lawyers pore over the case, cross-examine the witnesses who testified at the Grand Jury. A trial would get everything out in the open.”
“How long will all of that take?” asked Mastretta.
“Not more than a few months. If Wright’s doing his job right, terrific. But if he isn’t—well, we ought to know that too.”
Mastretta grimaced as the plane hit another wave of turbulence.
Joseph E. Brill was one of the most respected criminal defense lawyers in the city. He was bald—actually shaved what little hair he had left—and wore a Vandyke beard; he was the epitome of a criminal trial lawyer of the old school. Judge Tauber retained Brill to represent him on the indictment.
“What do you think, Joe?” the judge asked, pale as he sat in Brill’s private office.
Brill, his half-glasses low on his angular nose, read the indictment on his desk.
“I think the son of a bitch set you up.” Brill, too, had been a DA in Dewey’s famous office.
Randolph Tauber and his attorney, Peter L. F. Sabbatino, were also in Brill’s office. Sabbatino, too, was one of the city’s best defense lawyers. At seventy-five years of age, he had not forgotten anything. He still knew it all, and then some. Sabbatino and Brill both had their offices in the Woolworth Building, and had known and respected each other for a long time.
“What do you think, Peter?”
“No question about it,” Sabbatino replied in his soft voice.
“How can you both tell that?” asked the judge.
“How else could Wright get a purported defendant to wire himself up and tape conversations with his own lawyer?” said Brill.
“A defendant worrying about his own health and welfare,” added Sabbatino, “would not likely be working with the special prosecutor against his own lawyer, unless he didn’t have any case to worry about in the first place.”
“That’s the way I see it, Peter,” Brill agreed.
“We’ll have to get the tapes and any other material they have,” said Sabbatino. “I wouldn’t even waste time asking Wright’s people if they’ll give it to us. We’ll make formal motions.”
“I want to get this thing brought to trial as quickly as possible,” said the judge. “I’m being pilloried. So is my son, my entire family.”
“They say they have tapes to prove the charges,” said Brill carefully. “We can complain all we want about unfair tactics, set-up and the like, and I do not minimize that for a moment, but lying in front of a grand jury is perjury, no matter how you slice it. Is there anything to these charges?”
“They’re a goddamn lie!” Tauber’s son said vehemently. “They accuse me of concocting a phony defense for Rainone and lying about it before the grand jury. It’s not true. I told this Rainone, or whatever his real name is, that he had a long rap sheet. He couldn’t take the stand with that kind of record. I’m not in either of your leagues, but I know that. So why would I concoct a defense for him to testify to, that the complainant made homosexual advances? I told him he couldn’t even take the stand. If they’ve got tapes, that’s what’ll be on the tapes.”
“Unless they doctor the tapes,” Sabbatino pointed out.
“You think Wright’d go that far?” asked the judge.
“Why not?” replied Brill. “If he’s capable of doing what you say, why couldn’t he doctor tapes too?”
“Jesus Christ,” the judge said, leaning back in his chair.
“I never concocted any phony defense with Rainone,” the judge’s son repeated. “In fact, I told him that I wouldn’t represent him, that he had to get another lawyer, because all he wanted me to do was make a fix for him. I didn’t trust him. All he wanted was a fix, a fix. I told him he was reading too many comic books, and that he’d have to get somebody else.”
“We’ve got to get our hands on those tapes, then, Peter. That’s where the case lies.”
“I already have one of my associates working on the motion papers.”
“It’s going to be great working with you again, Peter,” said Brill. “And don’t worry, judge, we’ll hoist the son of a bitch on his own petard.”
“It’s difficult being a defendant, Joe,” the judge replied wearily. “We sit and watch this sort of thing day in, day out. And then suddenly you’re the defendant, and your stomach takes a different turn, and it turns and it turns. My whole life is in your hands.”
“We’ll do everything possible, judge,” Brill said, looking at Sabbatino. “And then some.”
“What is this Tauber situation all about?” Marty demanded angrily of J.T. They were alone in J.T.’s office. It was after ordinary working hours, although many staff lawyers were in their offices poring over books and papers.
“What do you mean, Marty?” J.T. asked, looking Marty straight in the eye.
“You know what I mean, J.T. How did all this come about without my knowing anything about it? Why did Levine handle it directly with you, and not with me? I am still chief of staff around here, am I not?”
“That doesn’t mean that everything has to go through you, does it?” J.T. replied. He swiveled in his chair to look out at the skyline.
“No. But it just seems odd that you didn’t let me in on any of it, particularly since the Tauber situation is very similar to discussions we’ve had many times about making a phony case to get an official. Is that what this is?”
“Certainly not, Otto,” J.T. said, trying to stir up some of the old joviality. He didn’t turn to face Marty.
“You’re not convincing me, J.T.,” Marty said sternly. “I smell something wrong in this case—especially where Levine handled it. He’s a very dangerous little man.”
“He’s all right. A little ambitious, perhaps. But aren’t we all?”
“Not all, J.T. Have you read the grand jury minutes in the Tauber case yet? Have you seen the evidence?”
“No, have you?” J.T. said anxiously, turning to face Marty.
“Not yet. But I’m going to take the file home with me this evening.”
“I was thinking of doing the same thing myself. Perhaps you can take it tomorrow night?”
“I already have the file with me.” Marty indicated a file on the couch next to him.
“Let me have it, will you?” J.T. tried to say casually.
“No problem, J.T. I’ll just photostat it. This way we’ll both be able to discuss the file tomorrow.”
“I’d rather you didn’t do that.”
“Is there something in there you don’t want me to see? Ordinarily you don’t even bother to look in the files. What’s the difference with this one?”
“No difference.”
“Good. Then there’ll be no problem if I photostat it.”
J.T.’s jaw muscles set hard as he looked at the folder in Marty’s hand. “I’d rather you didn’t do that, Marty,” he said firmly, “until I look it over myself. If Levine did something wrong, I want to know about it first. Particularly because, as you say, h
e was working directly with me.”
“Here’s the file,” said Marty, handing the folder to J.T. “But if you don’t have sufficient confidence in me to let me photostat the file and study it at the same time you do, then you can take this job and my title and shove them you know where.” Marty’s fists were clenched tightly.
“Take it easy, Marty, take it easy. What’s come over you?” J.T. asked, smiling now, coming out from behind his desk. “Hell, Marty, it’s only a file.”
“And from the way you’re acting, I know just what to expect in it.”
“I think you’re wrong. Unless Levine did something I don’t know about.”
“I see. If there’s anything unethical or illegal in there, you’ll lay it off on Levine.”
“That’s not what I mean at all. As far as I know, there’s nothing amiss in the Tauber file.”
“I’ll find that out for myself. Unless, of course, you tell me right now that you don’t want me to look at this file at all.”
J.T. studied Marty carefully. He was in dead earnest, and looked angrier than J.T. had ever seen him. “I guess you can look at it, if it’s that important. Take it.”
“Fine. I hope you’re right about what’s in here, J.T.”
J.T. looked at Marty, his face betraying nothing.
July 14, 1968
“What’s the matter, darling?” Courtnay asked Marty as they sat at the dining room table. Marty’s face was darkly serious.
“Nothing much, just thinking.”
“Thinking something terrible, from the looks of you. Come on, Marty, tell me what it is.”
Marty placed his napkin next to his plate. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms across his chest. “I think J.T. is starting to let his hunger for publicity go a bit too far.”
“Starting to go too far? From what I read in the papers, there are people who think J.T. and your office went too far a long time ago. What happened now?”
“The Tauber indictment.”
“You think there’s something wrong with the indictment?”
“You remember how many times J.T. has spoken about having one of our men pose as a criminal and then try to bribe his way out of court? Well, I think he’s finally gone and done it.”
“The Tauber case is based on a faked case?”
“I found out today that J.T. has had Levine doing his dirty work, and I blew my stack. I demanded to see the file.”
“And what’s in the file?”
“On the surface, the indictment seems well founded. Not against the judge so much, but against the son.”
“That’s a different situation then, isn’t it?” said Courtnay. “If the son really did commit perjury, there’s no excuse for that, regardless of J.T.’s actions.”
“But there’s something more to this, something I haven’t quite figured out yet. I have to hear the tapes our undercover man made when he was talking to Randolph Tauber.”
“Why don’t you ask J.T. for them?”
“When I do, he’s going to tell me that he hasn’t heard the tapes himself. He’s going to lay the whole thing off on Levine. I know him.”
“Finally. It’s been a long time, Marty.”
“What really burns me is that he did all this without my knowing about it. I’m the chief of staff, and here he is conniving with other assistants behind my back, making me look the fool to the rest of the staff. When the public lambasts the office, the newspapers accuse us of raking people’s rights over the coals, then I’ll be a public fool, despite the fact that in some instances, like this one, I don’t even know what’s going on.”
Courtnay walked over to Marty and put her arm around his shoulder. “Marty, I love you.”
“What’s all this about?” he asked blankly.
“You’re finally seeing the light. J.T. is treacherous and self-concerned—and that’s giving him all the best of it.”
“I don’t want to say you’re right, but J.T. has changed lately. He’s hungrier and hungrier for publicity and recognition. When we go through a dry period, when no really sensational stories are being pumped out by our press agent—that’s what Balzano is, a press agent—J.T. gets frantic. And the time between J.T.’s need for publicity fixes is getting shorter and shorter. He’s like a junkie now.”
“Maybe it’s time to start considering whether following J.T. around any longer is worthwhile. Maybe it’s time to go out and do something on your own.”
“There’s nothing wrong with the purpose of the office, darling. Making the justice system more responsive is a really important task. And with these crazy bastards that J.T. has attracted, and that he seems attracted to, I’m the only voice of sanity in bedlam. I have to stay right now.”
“But you have to consider your own career, not just cleaning up J.T.’s mess.”
“I’m not just cleaning up after him.”
“Oh, yes you are. You’ve been saving him for years. And from what you tell me, that’s getting harder to do. J.T. is getting more dangerous.”
Marty frowned. “Dangerous?”
“Perhaps desperate is a better word. I’ve always warned you that J.T. wouldn’t think twice about hurting even you if it suited his purpose. From what you tell me, his need for publicity is squeezing him to do desperate things. You can see it in this Tauber situation.”
Marty thought silently for a few moments. “I’m going to call J.T.,” he said, rising. “This thing is going to come to a head right now.” He went to the phone in the den and dialed J.T.’s number.
“Hello?”
“J.T., this is Marty. I’ve looked over the Tauber file, and there’s something wrong.”
“I haven’t had a chance to go over it yet, Marty. I’m a little tied up right now. We can go over it in the morning.”
“It’s not quite as easy as that, J.T. I don’t want to be brushed off.”
“You sound a little overwrought, Marty. I’m not brushing you off. It’s just a case. We can discuss it tomorrow.”
“It’s not just the case, J.T. It’s the fact that you went and pulled off this entrapment scheme, even though we’d discussed it many times and you knew I disapproved of it.”
“Marty, there are some decisions I have to make on my own.”
“That’s not the point, J.T. It goes deeper than that.”
“What is the point, then?”
“You’ve made a damn fool of me. You can make all the decisions in the office if you want. But as long as I’m chief of staff, I should know what’s going on. It’s humiliating to have people on my staff working on cases I don’t even know about.”
“That’s not true at all, Marty.”
“It sure as hell is,” Marty said loudly.
“Marty, we can’t discuss this over the phone.”
“Fine. I’ll come over.”
“No, not now. I’ve got some people here. This is important business. It has to do with getting out of the special prosecutor’s office.”
“Getting out?”
“Right. There are people here who think I might have a political future. And frankly”—J.T. started to whisper—“they’re willing to put up money to get me going.”
“Don’t change the subject, J.T.” Marty’s annoyance was not lessened in the least by J.T.’s plans of future glory.
“Well, if, as you tell me, the office is getting out of hand and I’m looking for a way to get the two of us out of it, then what’s still bugging you?”
“I don’t know if there’s going to be the two of us anymore.”
“What does that mean? Listen, if that little toad Levine has done something wrong, then fire his ass. You’re still top man. I told him to get permission from Judge Moriarty, so everything would be absolutely approved in advance. For Christ’s sake, Marty, you think I’m a crazy man, that I’d let something go on that wasn’t legal? That I’d let something like this come between you and me?”
“I don’t know anymore, J.T. Did Levine get Moriarty’s approv
al?”
“I love your attitude, Marty. After all these years, you tell me you don’t know if I’d do something that would come between us.”
“It’s not all these years, J.T. It’s right now. You’re getting publicity-mad. These people who write to you and tell you you’re cleaning up the city and that you’re a savior—they’re the lunatic fringe. And you believe them.”
“Can’t we discuss this tomorrow morning, Marty? I’m telling you, I had nothing but the best intentions.”
“All right, we can talk in the morning—early!”
“First thing. When Stern picks me up, we’ll drive right over to your place.”
“Eight fifteen.”
“Eight fifteen it is.”
Marty hung up the phone, still upset, feeling that he had just been conned again.
“What was that all about?” George DeValen asked as J.T. walked back into the living room. DeValen was sitting on the couch, a drink in hand.
“Nothing much,” J.T. said pensively. “Just a little office problem. I’ll take care of it tomorrow.”
“Good. Shall we go out to dinner, or do you want to order something in?”
“I don’t care.” J.T. was disturbed that Marty was so angry. He’d have a lot of talking to do in the morning to calm Marty down out of this tree.
“Good, let’s order in, dear boy. There’s so much that we have to get settled.”
July 15, 1968
“Marty, Marty, stop carrying on about a single case,” J.T. urged. “Especially until we have a look at the rest of the file and see what it’s really about.”
They were in the back of J.T.’s car. Stern was driving.
“It couldn’t have happened the way you’re saying, J.T. Levine couldn’t have done all this on his own.”
“I told him to handle the matter, and to get Judge Moriarty’s approval in advance for anything that might be the slightest bit questionable. He said he did. What’s wrong with that?”
“Moriarty would approve anything, even drawing and quartering suspects.”
“Well, what can we do about that? He’s the judge presiding over all our cases in Kings County. If we went to him and he gave us his approval in advance, what did we do wrong?”
J.T. Page 26
