by Mark M Bello
“Oh, they’re happily playing like they are in the video you presented to the jury?”
“Not exactly.”
“Well, why don’t you tell Judge Perry and this jury what the boys are doing in these other recordings?”
“Nothing much.”
“Can you be more specific?”
“Not really.”
“Let me help you then.”
“Do you have video of them arguing with each other or their mother?”
“Yes.”
“Seldom or often?”
“Often, I guess.”
“Do you have them being tearful?”
“Yes.”
“Seldom or often?”
“Often.”
“Did you video them at school?”
“Yes.”
“Did they play with other children at school?”
“No.”
“Did they play together at school?”
“No.”
“Did they hang around with any of the other kids?”
“No, they stayed to themselves, as I recall.”
“Did you ever, on any occasion, other than the one depicted in the video you presented in court today, observe these boys being just plain happy?”
“No, sir. I can’t say I did.”
“Over what period of time did you tail Mrs. Tracey?”
“About the same as the children.”
“And what . . . what . . . oh, never mind. I have no further use for this witness.”
Zack turned to the jury and made quotation signs with his hands at the mention of the word witness. Walsh did not dare to re-direct.
The final defense witness was Father Jonathan Costigan, who reluctantly admitted he received Gerry’s personnel file when he was transferred to Lakes and saw nothing to indicate Gerry had problems with children. Conversations with his superiors were all positive. It appeared to Jon, at the time, that the church had no knowledge of Gerry’s propensities.
On cross-examination, Zack again took Costigan through the cover-up efforts of the Voice and his Coalition.
“If Father Moloney had been able to enlist your support in the program he outlined, would you have been permitted to inform a subsequent parish of his pedophilia?”
“I suppose not.”
“Perhaps your predecessor was under the same restriction?”
“Objection, calls for speculation!” shouted Walsh.
“Sustained,” ruled Perry.
“Withdrawn,” Zack capitulated. He made his point. “I have no more questions.”
“Redirect, Mr. Walsh?” invited the judge.
“No, Your Honor.”
“The witness may step down. Do you have any other witnesses, Mr. Walsh?”
“No, Your Honor. The Defense rests.”
“Will you be presenting a rebuttal case, Mr. Blake?”
“Yes, Your Honor,” Zack lied.
“How long do you think you will need?”
“Maybe one full day, Your Honor.”
“All right, then. We’ll adjourn until tomorrow.”
Perry pounded his gavel, and court was adjourned. Blake felt better about his chances with the jury. He seemed to connect with a few members. To hit a home run, though, he needed to nail down the prior notice issue. Tomorrow would be his last chance. If the mystery caller or the families were watching the proceedings, now was their time to step forward. If he had no rebuttal witnesses to present in the morning, he would rest. He’d visit Kenny and Jen and return to the office to prepare for closing arguments. HIs long battle for justice for the Tracey family was almost over.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Zachary Blake sat in his office, reviewing his notes and recollections of the trial. He tried, without much success, to prepare his closing argument. It would be a lot easier if Micah found the missing families or tracked down the mysterious caller. Micah’s call, twenty-five minutes earlier, to advise he had no luck on either score was aggravating, to say the least.
Zack’s visit to the hospital was as positive as possible under the circumstances. Kenny was fully conscious, off medication, and could hardly remember the events that landed him at Children’s Hospital. He’d go home tomorrow. Jennifer was briefed on the proceedings, although she seemed disinterested.
The toll of the lawsuit on her and her boys was a heavy one. She promised to appear the following day since Kenny was improving. Unknown to Zack, Jennifer told Kenny she’d drop the entire case if he wanted her to. His health was the only thing that mattered to her. If the case could cause him more harm, she’d drop it.
Kenny declined. He agreed with Jake. Both boys needed Gerry and the church to pay for their criminal behavior. And Kenny wanted no other child to suffer at the hands of Gerry Bartholomew. She was so proud of him at that moment!
Her boys felt strongly about continuing, but how did she feel? She thanked Zack for his hard work and managed a slight smile. Her attitude frightened him. Was she dismissing a possible future together? Was he only the family lawyer? I’m being paranoid.
Back in the present, Zack found himself staring at his phone. “Call, damn it,” he muttered out loud. But the phone stayed silent. Zack returned to his closing and worked into the morning hours. Tomorrow was the final day of the biggest trial of his life. Would he win the battle but lose the war? He could get a huge verdict against the priest, but would he be able to collect it from the church? This wasn’t merely a possible result. The more he pondered trial events, the more he believed this was the more probable result. He’d obtain a big verdict—no money, no justice, and three very unhappy clients. He couldn’t focus. He rose, turned off the lights, and dragged himself to the Z4. He looked over at the empty passenger seat and closed his eyes, imagining an occupant.
Jennifer?
Yes, Zack?
I love you.
I love you, too.
Zack opened his eyes and started the car. Focus, Blake! Everything will fall into place. What would I have if I lost this case? I’d have nothing, no one—same as before. On that pleasant note, he drove off into the night.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Zack awoke to the loud beeping of his cell phone alarm. Without rising, he tried to focus, searching for the off button. He relaxed, several seconds later, when he found the button and hit it, harder than necessary. This had been a morning ritual for as long as he had the phone. He longed for the days of his easy-to-shut-off alarm clock. Sometimes, new technology is inferior to the old.
He lay in bed, contemplating his morning. This could be the last day of trial. The judge would ask him if he wished to present a rebuttal. He’d say no, and the judge, surprised, would ask if he wished to present his closing argument. Again, he would answer no since he’d been unsuccessful in preparing it. Walsh would deliver a brilliant closing, the jury would be out only thirty minutes, and deliver a no-cause verdict for the defense. Jennifer would thank Zack for his hard work and say good-bye. And I’ll never see her again.
Zack dragged himself out of bed, did his morning business, and crawled into the shower. Usually, this simple act of revival achieved its purpose, but not this morning. This would be the worst morning of his life. A hot shower could not brighten the mood.
He toweled off, moussed and brushed his hair, brushed his teeth, shaved, and quickly dressed. He contemplated himself in the mirror. He remembered the day in the bathroom at the RenCen, outside Walsh’s office. He looked twenty years older. His stomach sagged from each day’s assortment of fast food. He had heavy bags under both eyes. His hair was completely gray. The last time he studied himself like this, he still had some black hair.
I’m such a jerk. What would a beautiful, classy woman like Jennifer Tracey see in the likes of me? When the case was going well, he was her knight in shining armor, saving her kids. Under those circumstances and in a moment of weakness, she might have considered lowering her standards. Now that the case was over, especially with the expected negative result, the possi
bility of a relationship was over too.
Throngs of media people would celebrate his victory. But his large verdict against Bartholomew was uncollectable. Gerry had no defense. His fate at the trial was preordained. There would be a small measure of victory, Gerry’s public humiliation, and the vilification of this creature, but it would not generate revenue. All his efforts, all the money he spent, trying to prove prior notice and cover-up against the church, had been for naught.
He was a beaten man, beaten by the evil forces of the Coalition. The Voice was laughing at him and would laugh long and hard after the verdict was read. Zachary might have dented the armor a fraction, but, in the final analysis, he did no serious or permanent damage. The Coalition would be assigned its next case and proceed along the same, sinister path it always followed. Sadly, because of Zack’s failure here, there would be other abused children.
What was wrong with these church guys? Did they genuinely believe the greater good outweighed the suffering of innocent children and their families? Did they employ any preventative mechanisms to stop these sick freaks? Had any lessons been learned? Was the expense of cover-up and payoff less expensive than screening, training, education, or treatment? For Christ’s sake, this egregious conduct, from a major religious institution? If he didn’t know it was true, he wouldn’t believe it.
He looked again at his reflection. Color rose in his cheeks. He tried to pump himself up. I’ll complete and deliver a terrific closing statement. I’ll argue the obvious—the conspiracy to cover up Bartholomew’s prior conduct was elaborate and successful. The church had enormous resources that enabled them to pull it off. But don’t be fooled, ladies and gentlemen of the jury. Don’t let the Coalition live another minute. Crush it with your verdict. Send this powerful message throughout the religious community: Society will not tolerate the sexual abuse of children. We can crush these perpetrators and those who attempt to protect or shield them. The power of we, the people, must be stronger than the power of any institution, including the church.
He sat at his kitchen table, frantically writing, occasionally pausing to deliver oratory. The more he wrote and spoke, the more pumped he became. Finally, he declared himself ready. He’d deliver an eloquent and thought-provoking closing. Maybe he hadn’t kept all the promises he made to the jury. But he could argue he was prevented from doing so by an elaborate conspiracy. The jury would understand. The verdict must be joint and several—against all defendants. Otherwise, it would have no impact. The jury knows this, don’t they? For the sake of the children, Zachary Blake had to make them understand.
***
The courtroom was filled to capacity. Bridge chairs were strategically placed to handle the overflow. The outer hallway was packed with people who tried, unsuccessfully, to enter the courtroom. Wayne County sheriff’s deputies were in the hall, literally pushing the crowd to the elevators, threatening arrests if order could not be restored. Reporters shouted, “Freedom of the press!” “Perry tramples on the First Amendment!” and other such slogans. The undaunted deputies suggested shut out reporters watch the proceedings on television at a local tavern.
Zachary and Jennifer arrived together and slipped through a side door not well known to the public at large. A small staff elevator carried them to the fourth floor where the deputies were engaged in order-keeping activities. Blake opened an unmarked door that led to the inner hallway and pushed Jennifer into the privacy of the courthouse’s inner sanctum before members of the locked-out press could get to her.
It was after 9:00 a.m. The trial would reconvene late because of the turmoil. Judge Perry issued an order from chambers that court would not be in session until complete order was restored, inside and outside the courtroom. Zachary and Jennifer stayed in the inner hallway while the battle to regain order raged on outside. Judge Perry’s clerk saw Blake and summoned him into the judge’s chambers. Blake entered and was surprised to see Perry and Walsh engaged in friendly conversation.
“Come in, Zack. Have a seat,” Perry invited.
“Hi, Zack, how ya doin’?” Walsh chirped.
“Fine, Craig. Are you two having an in-camera conversation out of my presence?” Blake charged. The canons of ethics strictly prohibited such conversations for both judges and lawyers.
“No, Zack, we’re just shooting the breeze,” Perry explained. “When we finally get started today, how do you intend to proceed?”
“How do you mean?” Blake inquired.
“Rebuttal or closing argument?” The judge cut to the chase.
“Rebuttal, if my witnesses can get through the mess.”
“Fine, fine. They’ll get through. How many witnesses?”
“As little as one, as many as five. I haven’t decided yet.”
“You will be limited to three,” Perry snapped.
“Why?” Blake wondered.
“Call it a compromise between one and five,” Perry insisted.
“There is no precedent for this kind of limitation, I object,” Blake postured.
“Your objection is noted, Mr. Blake,” Perry uttered. “We will put the ruling and your objections on the record before we proceed.”
“You don’t have any rebuttal witnesses anyway,” Walsh challenged. “It’s all a bluff. You know it, and I know it.”
“Is this true, Zack?” Judge Perry inquired.
“No, Your Honor, it isn’t,” Blake lied.
“What are the names of your witnesses?” Walsh continued.
“You’ll see when I call them. They’re on my witness list.”
That was technically true. The MacLean and O’Connell families were on the list. The mystery caller was not—his name was unknown. Zack did add a catch-all to the list. ‘Any, and all, employees or agents of the defendants’ were part of his witness list. If the caller appeared and was willing to testify, Blake would get him in because of this designation.
“If you waste this court’s time or have lied, Mr. Blake, there will be severe sanctions,” Perry warned. “I’m already troubled by revelations you’ve engaged in a personal relationship with a client. I may be obligated to report this to the Bar.”
“The video is misleading, Your Honor, which was the intent of playing it. This sleight of hand behavior has permeated the defense case. There is no relationship. But, do what you have to do, Your Honor. I can’t stop you. We may be in the process of beginning a relationship, but that violates nothing. I won’t apologize for having feelings. How about you also consider the way the defense spied on us? Pretty sleazy, wouldn’t you agree?
“As to the witnesses, under these circumstances, Your Honor, with the circus going on outside, I can’t guarantee they’ll show, but I swear my intentions were and are honorable,” Blake insisted.
“Well, we’ll cross both bridges when we come to them,” Perry softened. “What is the substance and purpose of their testimony?”
“To prove Bartholomew’s prior incidents and the church’s knowledge and cover-up of same.”
“You’re bluffing,” Walsh blustered.
“Am I?” Blake bluffed. “How would you know anyway? Unless you tampered with my witnesses.”
“Your Honor, I resent that insinuation,” Walsh groused.
“Your resentment is noted,” Perry sighed. “Gentlemen, the trial is almost over. Cut the bullshit.”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
***
By 11:30 a.m., order was restored. The outer hallway was empty, and sheriff’s deputies were posted at every stairway and elevator. Only people who had business with Judge Perry or the other five judges on the floor would be allowed to pass. Inside the courtroom, proceedings were about ready to begin. The lawyers and litigants were seated at their respective counsel tables, awaiting the arrival of the judge and the jury.
Zachary scanned the gallery for anyone matching the description of the MacLean or O’Connell families or anyone he hadn’t seen before who the mystery caller might be. He saw the same faces of the press and the usual co
urt-watchers who were present throughout the trial. He glanced at Jennifer. She was as distant as she had ever been. Her thoughts were elsewhere.
Zack knew any chance the two of them had for a possible relationship depended on this verdict. The verdict would be vindication that all they’d been through together was just, right, and worth the effort. To meet while fighting a losing battle, which damaged her children, would render any possible relationship unsalvageable.
“All rise!” shouted the bailiff, startling Zack from his thoughts. Judge Perry entered the courtroom through his private entrance, told the gallery to be seated, and asked the lawyers if there were any preliminary matters to discuss before the jury was brought in. Blake raised the issue of the judge’s limitation on rebuttal witnesses, and they rehashed the entire conversation again, for the purposes of the record. Again, Walsh argued for severe sanctions, convinced Blake had no rebuttal witnesses.
Finally, after a half-hour of posturing and arguing, they were ready to proceed. It was 12:15 p.m. The jury had been in the jury room since 8:30 a.m. and Judge Perry decided to break for lunch. Rebuttal would begin, promptly at 1:30 p.m. Perry apologized to the lawyers, litigants, and the gallery. He asked the bailiff to distribute passes to those in attendance so they might re-enter that afternoon. Only those with passes would be allowed re-entry. With the afternoon procedures established, the judge rose and exited the courtroom.
Zack turned to Jennifer. She was a million miles away.
“Jen? Jen?” He gently shook her arm.
She smiled, dreamily, as she looked at him and stretched.
“Yes, Zack? What is it?”
“Court is adjourned. Do you want to grab a quick bite?”
“No. I’d rather stay here. I can’t face all those reporters.”
“I understand. How’s Kenny doing?”
“He’s fine. He’s coming home this afternoon. Lynne offered to pick him up. I arranged everything so I could be here with you.”
She looked at him and smiled. She was mellow and detached. Drugs?
