Betrayal of Justice

by Mark M Bello

  “I appreciate that, Jen.”

  He put his hands on both of her shoulders and turned her toward him.

  “What’s the matter? You seem out of it this morning. Is everything okay?”

  “Well, since you asked, no, Zack, everything is not okay. My oldest son has been hospitalized. My youngest misses the only person he could always count on. Both have been traumatized, probably for life, and here I am, on some damn crusade to save the world’s children. I should have been thinking about saving my own. How can I protect other parents’ children when I can’t even protect my own?”

  She began to tear up, but Zack’s question caused her to focus.

  “You’re being too hard on yourself, Jenny. There was no way for you to have known what Bartholomew was up to.”

  “That’s not what I mean, Zack. What happened on the camping trip was his fault, his and the church. I can live with that. I can accept that!”

  “What then?”

  “I could have accepted the church’s offer of treatment. I could have left things at that. I didn’t have to drag my children through a public trial and cause them even more harm. What was I thinking? I could make a difference? What a joke! You can’t fight these people, Zack. You did a great job trying. You really did. But in the end, money and power will always prevail.”

  “You’re wrong, Jen,” Zack argued, holding her shoulders, squaring her to face him. “That’s conveniently cynical. This may sound corny, but sometimes, truth and justice do prevail. When I met you, I marveled at your faith, your capacity to believe. Believe in this, Jennifer. Believe I am going to win this case because I am. Believe the boys will get through this. They will be happy and strong someday soon. Believe, Jen! Believe!”

  “I believe, Zack, but . . .”

  Zachary put his finger to her lips. These were the words he wanted from her. There would be no buts.

  “Hush, shhhh. I will take care of everything. Everything will work out. I promise. Trust me, Jen. I need you to believe . . . in me.”

  “I believe in you, Zack. I’ve always believed in you. That’s not the problem . . .”

  He put his finger to her lips again.

  “Then, there is no problem. If you believe, we will succeed together.”

  He leaned forward and kissed her cheek.

  “But the boys, Zack.”

  “The boys will be fine, Jen, as long as we see this through to the ultimate victory. They will receive the treatment they need. They will have their loving mother to support them in all future endeavors. They will see this verdict as an indictment of Bartholomew’s conduct and vindication that they did nothing wrong. The verdict will help alleviate their guilt. And I plan to be there to see it all happen.”

  “You plan to be where?”

  “Huh?”

  “You ‘plan to be there?’ Plan to be where?”

  “You caught that, huh?”

  “You plan to continue to see us after the trial?” she wondered.

  “What if I did? What would you say?”

  “I’d say the timing was awful.”

  “Then we won’t.”

  “Won’t what?”

  “See each other. Besides, it was simply a rhetorical what-if kind of thing.”

  “What if?”

  “Yeah, you know.”

  “No, I don’t know. Why don’t you explain it to me?”

  She was toying with him, but he was too uncomfortable to notice.

  “Jennifer, I-I-I . . .”

  “I know, Zack. I know. I was kidding. We’ll talk about this at a more convenient time, and you can explain the what-if scenario.”

  “Great idea!” Zack exclaimed.

  They sat in silence as the courtroom began to fill up. Judge Perry would soon arrive and call for Zack’s witnesses.

  ***

  “All rise! Circuit Court for the County of Wayne is now in session, the Honorable John Perry presiding.”

  Perry entered while the bailiff trumpeted this familiar warning. Several men in suits, presumably lawyers, were standing at the clerk’s counter to the right and below the judge’s bench. The clerk started handing Perry paperwork that was handed to him by the suits. Perry scanned the documents, signed some of them, rejected others, and returned them to the clerk to complete whatever was necessary to satisfy the lawyers’ requests. Blake wondered why judges couldn’t set hours for these mundane procedures instead of making spectators, litigants, attorneys, and jurors wait for them to complete these tasks—unless, of course, Blake was the one who needed an order signed.

  “Mr. Blake, are you ready to proceed with rebuttal?”

  Judge Perry’s question stabbed, like a knife, interrupting his thoughts. Zachary rose, scanned the courtroom, and saw all the same familiar faces.

  “Your Honor, my witnesses haven’t arrived yet.”

  “Did you inform them I begin the afternoon session promptly at 1:30 p.m.?”

  “Uh, no, sir, I did not.”

  “Why not? May I ask?”

  Blake felt drops of sweat forming at his armpits and forehead. Man, it was hot in that courtroom!

  “Because, Your Honor, I have not been in contact with these witnesses for quite some time.” Walsh sat back in his chair and made eye contact with the Voice. Both smiled broadly.

  “Mr. Blake, would you please define ‘for quite some time?’”

  “Yes, Your Honor, since the beginning of these proceedings.”

  “These witnesses, who are they, what was their expected testimony, and have they been disclosed to the defense?”

  “Yes, they have, Your Honor. One was a priest whose testimony was expected to reveal prior knowledge and cover-up of prior similar incidents involving the principal defendant and to expose a secret organization within the church whose job it is to cover-up such incidents on a broad scale. The others were previous victims of defendant Bartholomew, whose testimony would clearly establish he engaged in acts of pedophilia previously, with other teenagers and pre-teens. The church knew of these incidents, covered them up, and paid off the victims. These were the victims at the Doubletree Hotel we saw in the earlier video presented during Investigator Love’s testimony.”

  Walsh rose.

  “May it please the court, Your Honor? This priest is not on the witness list, and we have been denied the opportunity to depose these supposed previous victims. I would have objected to the presentation of all or any of these witnesses. Where are they? Was the video real? Do they truly exist? If they wish to testify, perhaps in violation of some type of confidentiality agreement, why aren’t they present in court?”

  “Your Honor, ‘any, and all employees and/or agents of the defendants,’ is a designation on the Plaintiff’s witness list. The priest in question would surely qualify under that listing. As for the other witnesses failing to appear, it is my firm belief, as an officer of the court, buttressed by the video presentation of Investigator Love, that their failure to appear results from an obstruction of justice conspiracy perpetrated by the very forces this lawsuit attempts to expose.”

  “Objection, Your Honor.” Walsh leaped to his feet. “There has been no evidence . . .”

  “Sit down, Mr. Walsh. Don’t rise again unless you’re instructed to do so by this court. These are serious allegations, Mr. Blake. Do you have any evidence to support them?”

  “Yes, Your Honor, I do. I can offer additional testimony from private investigator, Micah Love, who was directly involved in these events.”

  “Is Mr. Love still in the courtroom?”

  “Yes, Your Honor, he is.” Blake turned toward the gallery.

  “Mr. Love,” Perry ordered, “please step forward.”

  Love rose and walked to the podium, settling on a spot to Blake’s right. Judge Perry advised him he was still under oath. Blake asked Love to retell the story in narrative form. Walsh rose to object, but Perry’s glare silenced him and sat him down.

  This time, Love was permitted, out of the jury’s pre
sence, to tell the entire story, including parts inadmissible in the presence of the jury. Press members were frantically copying, in one form or another, everything he said. The story, if true, was headline news. Judge Perry focused attention directly on Micah Love. Walsh objected throughout Love’s testimony on the grounds that Love was speculating the church was involved in these incidents. Walsh again argued his clients were unfamiliar with these families until they were advised they were once members of St. Pat’s in Berea. There was no direct proof the church was involved in the Berea situation.

  Blake followed Love’s testimony with a presentation of the full Doubletree Suites video. Judge Perry stared at the video screen, paused, fought for control, and spoke.

  “Having listened to the testimony and having viewed the full Doubletree video, in context, I find evidence of a possible conspiracy to obstruct justice. If I held an evidentiary hearing on the matter and invited hotel employees, private investigators, Florida law enforcement officials, and certain Florida residents awaiting trial for the B and E, I would probably hear enough evidence the church and its Coalition were behind this conspiracy.

  “Therefore, I find sufficient probable cause to hold an evidentiary hearing to determine whether to charge Coalition operatives with conspiracy to obstruct justice and obstruction of justice.”

  “But, Your Honor,” a stunned Walsh rose to protest.

  “Sit down, Mr. Walsh. You will certainly be a witness at such a hearing. If you were involved in this circus in any minute way, I will have your license to practice law revoked and see you do time in one of our state facilities. Have I made myself clear?”

  “Crystal, Your Honor.” Walsh quickly sat down.

  “Now, the more important question is what to do with this case and this jury. I’ll see counsel in my chambers. Court is in recess.”

  Perry slammed down his gavel and left the courtroom. The two attorneys followed him out, and reporters scattered to call in the story. Blake and Walsh stepped into Perry’s private office, and Perry, in a rage, immediately directed it at Walsh.

  “God damn it! Such abhorrent behavior conducted and orchestrated by an official of my own church? I am ashamed. Mr. Walsh. What have you to say for your client and, for that matter, for yourself?”

  “Your Honor, if these allegations are true, I’m as shocked as you are.” Walsh groveled. “I am a member of the church, as well. I do not believe, however, the church had anything to do with these incidents. I certainly can advise you, as an officer of the court, I had nothing to do with them,” he asserted.

  Walsh could break rank in chambers. The Voice wasn’t around to hear him, unless, of course, Judge Perry’s chambers were bugged.

  “As I declared from the bench—if you were involved, your career is over.”

  “I was not involved, Your Honor, and I believe the evidence will show the church wasn’t involved either. I also believe you have a predisposition my clients were involved in a conspiracy to obstruct. As such, I believe you should recuse . . .”

  “Don’t go there, Craig!” Perry interrupted. “You’re already treading on thin ice with this court. I’ve heard evidence from a single source. Common sense tells me and anyone else with half a brain, except maybe you, that no one else other than Bartholomew or the church stood to gain anything by murdering an innocent custodian, hiding or abducting two families, or planting listening devices in every participant’s home or office. If Love’s testimony is corroborated, there will be indictments. Do you understand me? If you want to have me recused, go for it! Know this, however. You will have an enemy on the Wayne Circuit Court bench for life!”

  “Your Honor, I’ve changed my mind,” Walsh capitulated. “I have confidence in your ability to render a fair and impartial decision in the obstruction matter.”

  “Now, Mr. Blake, what is your pleasure regarding the failure of these witnesses to appear? How do you propose we get the conspiracy evidence before the jury?”

  “I’m not sure, Your Honor. Perhaps, Mr. Love can testify to the obstruction issues for the jury?”

  “The evidence is uncorroborated, Mr. Blake. How long would you need to arrange for the appearance of corroborating witnesses?”

  “I have no idea, Your Honor. It’s hard to know what other people are willing to do and when they might be willing to do it. Most of these witnesses are out of town. We would need to track them down.”

  “Would you like a mistrial?”

  “God, no, Your Honor! My clients can’t go through this again.”

  “Well, then . . .” Perry contemplated. “I will deliver a cautionary instruction to the jury that I have been provided with adequate evidence of witness tampering and obstruction of justice regarding the remaining proofs to be presented in this case. Zack will make an offer of proof, with or without the testimony of Mr. Love, as to what the absent witnesses were likely to say. The jury can decide for themselves whether this obstruction was or was not an act perpetrated by any of the defendants in this case.”

  “Your Honor . . .” Walsh tried to object.

  “And you, Mr. Walsh, will keep your mouth shut!”

  “Yes, Your Honor.”

  “How does that sound, Mr. Blake?”

  “As good as I can expect, under the circumstances, Your Honor.” Zack was cautiously elated. He was worried about the appellate ramifications of the ruling. Will the Court of Appeals sustain this?

  “Very well, then. Let’s go put this on the record and bring in the jury.”

  ***

  “All rise!” The bailiff shouted the familiar warning.

  Perry stormed in. “Be seated,” growled the judge, as he assumed his majestic position above the peons below. “Bring in the jury.”

  Jurors filed in, in order, as they had throughout the trial, wondering what was going on out of their presence. After they were seated, Judge Perry addressed them.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, we apologize for all of these delays. They were unavoidable, as you will soon discover when you hear what is about to happen. Mr. Blake has produced credible evidence of deliberate witness tampering by specific agents of the defendants in this case. Witnesses Mr. Blake intended to call before you are unavailable due to this tampering. Therefore, this court hereby makes a judicial finding that justice has, indeed, been obstructed.

  “Instead of calling these witnesses, I am permitting Mr. Blake to address you directly or through a witness whom you have heard from earlier, Mr. Micah Love, of Love Investigations. Mr. Love will recount, in detail, experiences that will essentially provide you with the sum and substance of the testimony you would have and should have heard from the unavailable witnesses. You are permitted to presume, in your own good judgment, whether this proffer is true or false and whether or not the obstruction was or was not perpetrated by the defendants or their counsel.”

  “Your Honor, I object!” cried Walsh, grandstanding for his clients.

  Blake admired his guts, given Perry’s attitude toward the video and the apparent complicity of the church depicted therein. Walsh was a worthy and challenging adversary.

  “Your objection is overruled,” Perry ruled. “Mr. Blake?”

  Zack rose, preparing to call Micah Love to the stand. Suddenly, the back doors swung open, and a Wayne County sheriff’s deputy rushed in, fast-walked over to Blake, and whispered something in his ear. Zack pumped his fist, elated with the news, and asked the court for a brief delay in the proceedings.

  “Make it quick, Mr. Blake,” the judge commanded. “Enough is enough. The jury is waiting.”

  He turned to the jury box, winked and smiled.

  “I’ll be brief, Your Honor,” Zack turned, walking backward, following the deputy out into the public corridor.

  Zack pushed open the courtroom doors and there, in the corridor, stood the MacLean and O’Connell families.

  “I can’t believe this. Thank God you’re all right!” Blake yelped. “What happened to you? Where have you been? I have so many questions. A
re you here to testify?”

  “Which question would you like answered first?” Pat O’Connell smiled.

  “The last one,” Zack smirked.

  “We’re here to testify. We’re tired of running—tired of hiding. We’re here to set the record straight.”

  “I’ve been terribly worried about you guys!” Zack exclaimed. “I’m so relieved. I felt terrible our protection detail failed you.”

  “Your protection detail saved our lives, Mr. Blake. It’s nice to finally meet you, by the way. Micah told us all about you. You’re a courageous man. I wish we’d known you when we had our little go-around with Father Gerry. Your clients must be proud to have you as their attorney,” Pam O’Connell gushed.

  “Excuse me, folks. There’s something I must do.” Blake turned and burst into the courtroom.

  “Your Honor, there’s been a development! May we approach?”

  Perry motioned both attorneys toward him. “What’s up?”

  “The missing families have arrived, Your Honor. They want to testify!”

  “I object, Your Honor,” Walsh screeched. “You’ve already damaged my clients with this wild obstruction story. Now, here are the missing witnesses—no obstruction! The jury is tainted. No way! I won’t allow it!”

  “You won’t allow it?” Perry gasped. “Who’s the judge here?”

  “Sorry, Your Honor. I didn’t mean it that way. But it is highly prejudicial to allow this testimony after practically accusing my clients of conspiring to prevent it.”

  “No, it isn’t,” Zack interrupted. “In fact, it’s to your advantage. Your Honor, these witnesses have a story to tell. They will be subject to direct and cross-examination. Mr. Walsh can now cross them on any subject relevant to these proceedings, including the obstruction charges. With the offer of proof through Mr. Love, I would have been permitted, as I understood it, to essentially offer what their testimony was expected to be, without giving Mr. Walsh an opportunity for cross-examination. Thus, it is to the advantage of the defense, especially now that the jury has been informed of obstruction charges, to cross-examine these witnesses and attempt to impeach their credibility.”