Lethal Defense

by Michael Stagg

  “Nate, it's Anne Gallon.”

  I straightened. “Good morning, Judge. Did we have a pretrial today?”

  “No.”

  “Well, I'm on a different floor from Christian so let me see if he's in and I’ll connect you.”

  “No, Nate, I’m calling for you. You're going to hang up this phone and get on your computer, you’re going to go Channel 9’s website and look up the Addiction Specialist Network, and then you're going to get yourself and your out-of-town co-counsel down to my chambers by 9:15.”

  I looked at the clock. “This morning?”

  “This morning. And don’t you dare be late.” She hung up.

  It was close to 8:40 when I found the Channel 9 report online. After a lead-in by a young reporter, I saw a woman whom the graphic identified as Tammy Sheehan, chairwoman of the Addiction Specialists Network. She was addressing a group of about twenty-five people, half of whom appeared to be reporters. She adjusted the microphone behind a small lectern and said, “We are pleased to announce that our local office of the Addiction Specialist Network has received a grant from the Skald Foundation to help us fight addiction right here in the city of Carrefour.”

  She looked from camera to camera. “Overdoses, violence, and theft have become common in our community, threatening to overrun our medical system and our court system with heroin and opioid-related problems. The Skald Foundation has generously set up an endowment which will help us continue our mission to attack addiction at its roots. I would like to thank the Foundation for its generous support and introduce to you its representative, Christian Dane, who will now say a few words.”

  Oh shit.

  I’d seen Christian almost every day and it turned out that he was one of those rare people that looked even better on TV than in person. He stepped to the lectern, all white hair and silk suit, solemnly looked into the camera, and said, “Heroin is a scourge. It creeps into communities and destroys them from within, undermining the bonds that hold us together. It is no respecter of persons and it is no longer the drug of the derelict or the criminal. This menace comes for our friends, for our partners, and for our children.”

  “The heroin scourge and the opioid epidemic are invading our communities. They’re overwhelming our healthcare system, they’re overwhelming our courts, they’re overwhelming our schools. In this Carrefour is not alone. Communities all over the country, just like Carrefour, are fighting the same battle. The Skald Foundation wants to fight that war in the vanguard. We wish to lead the fight against heroin wherever it's found. We want to eradicate opioid addiction where it starts. We want to support the people who make a difference. That's why the Foundation was created and it's through these grants that we bring families and neighbors together to beat back this menace.”

  Christian paused and I swear to God it was like he was delivering the speech from Independence Day.

  “You can't be in Carrefour long without learning about the good work that the Addiction Specialist Network does. They are out there every day, ministering to our neighbors, to our families, to our children, fighting the battle against addiction. That's not enough though. It’s too late if we are only fight after these dreaded drugs have sunk their talons into our families. At the Skald Foundation, we believe in attacking a problem at its roots, and that's why, for every dollar we donate to rehabilitation organizations like Addiction Specialist Network, we donate another dollar to prevention, to campaigns in our schools and churches, to local law enforcement, to anyone who can root out the distribution network of heroin before it takes hold in the community. The people who bring this scourge into our community are not our neighbors. They are vipers lying in wait for our friends, they are carrion crows waiting to sweep down on our children, they are the worst kind of evil that bends all that is good to their purpose.”

  “I have not been here long, but I know that Carrefour has fought this battle boldly. It is the deep privilege of the Skald Foundation to help. Thank you to the Addiction Specialist Network for fighting this battle without thought of credit, and thank you for allowing the Skald Foundation to join you.”

  Holy shit balls.

  The video cut back to the reporter, who said that the size of the donation was not known but that Tammy Sheehan had said that it was the largest one her organization had ever received.

  I knew why the Judge wanted to see us.

  I went upstairs and gathered Christian and then the two of us went to see Judge Gallon.

  Jeff Hanson was already there when we arrived. He was sitting next to the bailiff's desk, both hands resting on his large belly. Stacy Cannon served as Judge Gallon’s bailiff, as she had for the two judges before her. She had pure white hair, a soft smile, and just about as sweet a disposition as you would find in the Carrefour courthouse. She was also was quietly efficient and eminently proper so that the moment we walked in, she stood and said, “Mr. Shepherd, Mr. Dane, I'll let the Judge know you're here. Please sit.”

  Jeff hummed and made a point of looking pleasantly at the ceiling. “Somebody's in trouble.”

  “What did you do, Jeff?” I said.

  He shook his head. “A gag order is a gag order, Nate. And Judge Gallon is pretty particular about them.”

  I glanced at Christian who seemed entirely unconcerned by Jeff's comments and Judge Gallon's impending anger. Stacy returned and said, “Come in, gentlemen.”

  The three of us rose and went through the little swinging gate to Judge Gallon's office. I went first and as we entered said, “Good morning, Your—”

  “Sit,” Judge Gallon said.

  Christian picked the chair right in the center, directly in front of the judge. I took the chair on the right and Jeff sat last, descending heavily so that the chair strained and rocked just a little.

  Judge Gallon didn’t wait. “Mr. Dane, Mr. Shepherd, the reason I called you over for a pretrial instead of putting you directly in jail is because you've both just come onto the case and so may not have read all of the pleadings. I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt that you haven't read the gag order I issued in this case right after the indictment came down.”

  “I've read it, Your Honor,” said Christian.

  Jesus Christ. The judge had given us an out and Christian hadn’t taken it.

  Judge Gallon's eyes narrowed over her sharp cheekbones. “Then what was that little stunt yesterday?”

  “What stunt are you referring to, Your Honor?”

  The judge's eyes narrowed further. “There better not have been more than one, Mr. Dane.”

  “I don't recall any stunts, Your Honor.”

  I’d seen Anne lose her cool twice in the time we practiced together. I saw the signs of a third time coming and so said, “Are you talking about the press conference, Judge?”

  “Of course I'm talking about the press conference, Mr. Shepherd!”

  Christian sat there in calm innocence. “Oh, Your Honor means the Skald Foundation event?”

  “This is not something to joke about, Mr. Dane. I specifically directed all of you not to talk to the press.”

  “You directed us not to talk to the press about this case, Your Honor. I did no such thing.”

  “You spoke for fifteen minutes about heroin.”

  “I most certainly did, Your Honor.”

  “Heroin is involved in this case.”

  Christian raised an eyebrow. “Is it? Has the prosecutor added a drug charge?”

  “Mr. Dane, you are barreling right into a contempt charge.”

  “Am I, Your Honor? I’m sorry, perhaps we should discuss the scope of your order so that I don't run afoul of it then. You said we shouldn't talk about the case to the press. I did not. I did make an announcement that the Skald Foundation is donating funds to this community to help fight heroin addiction and the opioid epidemic. I didn’t think that's about the case, but if you are taking a broad view, I will, of course, abide by it.”

  “How considerate of you.”

  “I assume you will
be directing the prosecutor's office to do the same?”

  “There's no need to admonish us, Your Honor,” said Jeff. He dropped his hands from his belly and sat straighter. “We've been in compliance.”

  “Oh?” said Christian. “Because it seems to me that since the charges were filed, I saw you on Entertainment Buzz, Hollywood Z, all of the national networks, Rock City—”

  Jeff waved a hand. “That was a wire story that was picked up nationally because Ms. Saint was involved.”

  Judge Gallon stared at Christian over her glasses. “And the reason I issued the gag order in the first place.”

  “Fair enough, Your Honor.” Christian sat there, legs crossed and utterly unconcerned. “But since you issued the gag order, Mr. Hanson has appeared on three local news stories for the DARE campaign, encouraging junior high students not to use drugs. He’s been interviewed by one local station and the Carrefour Courier about Carrefour’s fifteen percent drop in drug-related crimes since his boss, Victoria Lance, was elected. He’s appeared with Police Chief LaBeau on Channel 3’s Sunday Community Roundtable talking about how his office is taking the lead in getting first-time drug offenders into rehab and diversion instead of jail.”

  Jeff shifted in his chair. “That’s not the same.”

  Christian ignored him. “And it’s not just Mr. Hanson, Your Honor. The chief prosecutor, Victoria Lance, has appeared on the local news for four events involving Well Center Rehab, which she’s apparently a board member of. Another prosecutor, Ben Wilson, won the Run for Rehab 10k in some sort of record time and appeared in the paper and on the news. His paralegal, Melanie Szcorchek, ran a Go Fund Me page to pay the NICU bills for a local newborn who was born addicted to opioids. All of that has happened since you issued your gag order, Your Honor.”

  Judge Gallon looked at Jeff.

  “None of that is about the case, Your Honor.”

  “Neither is the Skald Foundation’s donation,” said Christian.

  Jeff glanced at him. “That’s different.”

  “Why? Because I’m not from here? Heroin is destroying communities all over the country and the Skald Foundation helps fight it wherever it can. I’m here and saw a need. The Skald Foundation wants to help. I did not say one word about the case.”

  Judge Gallon removed her glasses and looked stern. All of us took the hint and kept our mouths shut. She stared at me for a long moment before she turned to Christian and said, “I assume part of your defense is going to be that Mr. Braggi acted in reaction to seeing Dillon Chase injecting Ms. Saint with heroin?”

  Christian didn’t so much as twitch under Judge Gallon’s scrutiny. “I haven’t decided yet, Your Honor.”

  Judge Gallon pressed her lips together as she replaced her glasses. “Let’s just assume for a moment that you’re a good trial lawyer and that it is part of your defense. I don’t want you to be appearing on traditional or electronic media from now until the trial is over for any damn thing. Not so much as a like or a retweet. Am I understood?”

  Christian didn’t blink. “Does that apply to everyone, Your Honor?”

  She looked at Jeff. “It does.”

  “His entire office?”

  “Everyone working on the case.”

  “What if someone else from his office comments?”

  “You’re part of a big firm, aren’t you, Mr. Dane?”

  “I am.”

  “Do you want me to gag all of Friedlander & Skald?

  “I don’t, Your Honor.”

  “Then I’ll expect all of you to use your heads. You too, Nate.”

  I smiled. “I’ll keep Danny on lockdown.”

  “Fine. Trial starts in three weeks so this shouldn’t be a hardship. Inquiries are inevitable. I expect all of you to say that the judge has prohibited comment on this matter until after trial. See you then.”

  Jeff and I stood at the implied dismissal but Christian remained seated. Judge Gallon raised an eyebrow.

  “May I assume that I will not be sanctioned for violating the gag order.”

  Judge Gallon stared at him. “The Court finds that you did not. This will be listed on the docket as a status pretrial.”

  Christian rose smoothly. “Thank you, Your Honor. And thank you for seeing us this morning.”

  “Good-bye,” said Judge Gallon and went back to her papers.

  As we walked out of the courtroom, Jeff said, “Have you considered our offer, Christian? Second degree is still on the table.”

  “We have, Mr. Hanson, thank you. We will not be accepting it.”

  “We’re not going any lower.”

  “I didn’t ask you to.”

  Jeff stared at Christian. “Your client went beyond the pale, Christian. Way beyond. No way a jury’s letting him off.”

  Christian shrugged. “We’ll see.” He made a point of turning to the ornate stairs that led down to the first floor.

  Jeff raised his chin and there was a hard flash in his eyes that lasted for just a second and was gone. “See you, Nate,” he said and walked to the elevator.

  I joined Christian on the stairs. “The heroin angle is part of our defense, right?” I said.

  “Absolutely.”

  “Then that was very well done.”

  “Thank you. Let’s pick up lunch for Cyn and Danny on the way back.”

  “Sounds good.”

  As we walked to my car, I thought about what I’d just seen. That was about as subtle, competent, and complete a takedown as I’d ever witnessed. He didn’t defy the judge, he didn’t defy her order, and he’d neutralized the prosecutor’s non-stop soft public relations campaign. Then I realized something else.

  “You can’t be that subtle,” I said.

  “How’s that, Nathan?” I swear to God he buckled his seatbelt without creating an errant line in his suit.

  “The judge has prohibited us from appearing on camera ‘til the trial’s over.”

  “Yes.”

  “But she can’t prevent a station from running the footage they already have.”

  “No, she cannot.”

  “And if the only footage they have is of the lead defense attorney speaking out against the evils of heroin, they’ll just have to keep running it every time they need a picture or sound.”

  “Goodness.” Christian smiled a little. “That would be subtle indeed, Nathan.”

  “Holy shit.”

  “I certainly wouldn’t want you to give me credit for that idea.” He glanced at me. “Not in front of the judge anyway.”

  “Jesus Christ.”

  “Yes. Credit him. How about Subway?”

  I was still swearing when we pulled in.

  10

  Danny had polished off a foot-long club while Cyn had made excellent progress on a six-inch chicken bacon ranch deluxe when I crumpled my wrapper and said, “So how are you going to spin the facts on this?”

  Christian precisely brushed the shredded lettuce that had fallen on the table into his wrapper, folded it, and placed it in the trashcan before he said, “I don’t spin facts, Nathan. I present them.”

  “Which facts are you going to present then?”

  “All of them.”

  I sighed. “Which facts are you going to emphasize? Highlight? Blow up?”

  Christian looked at Cyn, who glanced at me before she said, “Broad strokes can't hurt.”

  “Broad strokes are still all I have,” said Christian. “I don't know how you work, Nathan, but some of the theme comes together when I'm preparing my questioning.”

  “Sure.”

  “But, broad strokes. Hank is worried because he doesn't like the feel of the new guys and goes up to the room. Door is open so he walks in. That part’s important because we can't have him breaking in.”

  “Why is that?” said Danny.

  “Because if he breaks in, he’s breaking and entering and that's an aggravating factor that could support the death penalty,” I said.

  “Exactly,” said Christian. “So Hank
walks in, sees Lizzy on the edge of drunken consciousness, and sees this scumbag Dillon Chase in the act of injecting her full of heroin. Now Hank knows that Lizzy doesn't use so he immediately jumps to her defense and beats the guy down.”

  “That part’s easy,” I said. “How do we explain the extent of what Hank did? That he went berserk when he saw what was happening?”

  “Berserk is not a word we want to use.”

  “So how else do we describe what he did to Dillon’s face?”

  “Hopefully someone can establish that Dillon fought back.”

  “He would have to be fighting pretty hard to justify that beating.”

  “True.”

  “What does Hank say?”

  “Hank hasn't confirmed that yet for me. But since I don’t intend to put him on the stand, we have to establish it another way.”

  “Who else witnessed it?”

  “According to the police, Jared Smoke saw the end of the encounter.”

  I smiled at the word “encounter.” Lawyers. “What about Lizzy?”

  Christian smiled. “To date, her recollection has been hazy. We’ll have to interview her and see what we can get.”

  I picked up one of the pictures and looked at the way the left side of Chase’s head was caved in like a rotten pumpkin. “We're going to have a hard time convincing the jury that this was a measured response.”

  Christian nodded. “That's where the heroin comes in. We need the evil of pushing heroin to offset the violence of Hank's response.”

  That was going to be a thin line indeed. “What can Danny and I do?”

  “You’re checking with your contacts on Dillon Chase's connections to local heroin traffic?”

  “Already started that.”