by Wid Bastian
With the appropriate amount of dramatic pauses, tears, and contrived humility, Mrs. Walter Morgan methodically went through her testimony. Peter had always been a distant father, she said. She wasn’t at all sure if he even loved Kevin. Her ex-husband had “thrown away his family for the sake of greed” and inflicted wounds upon “Little Kev” that might never heal. There was enough truth in what Julie was saying that anyone neutral sitting in judgment would have taken her seriously. Add to this Julie’s beauty and charm and she seemed to all the world to be a woman victimized by an evil ex-husband who wanted nothing more now than for her son to be free of him once and for all.
The final scene of Mrs. Morgan’s well rehearsed play was to be the clincher. She explained how Peter claimed to have “found Jesus Christ” in prison, and that this religious conversion had renewed his desire to be a good parent. After a few months of more frequent contact between father and son, Julie said, she was “overjoyed” at the prospect of having Peter back in Kevin’s life as his father, despite all the past problems. For effect she added, “I thought God was answering my prayers.”
Carefully and slowly Julie then described for the court how she decided to go and visit Peter at Parkersboro on Christmas Eve last, to see for herself this “new man” and welcome him “back into the family.” But rather than finding a father anxious to be a part of his son’s life, what she found was the “same old jerk who had hurt us so much before.”
Julie’s story was that Peter demanded one million dollars in cash from her, or else he would “continue to harass me and play with Kevin’s emotions until Kingdom come.” A rather elaborate blackmail accusation then unfolded, with Peter threatening to embarrass Julie with claims of “drug use and sex parties.” Peter vowed to “ruin my relationship with my husband by any means possible,” Julie claimed, pretending to fight back the tears. She let her hands shake ever so slightly to demonstrate her frailty and anxiety.
After she returned from seeing Peter, Julie went on, she “broke down in front of Walter” and told him everything. They decided right then and there that “enough was enough” and swore to do whatever was necessary to remove the “cancer” of Peter Carson from their lives.
“Very impressive,” Judge Grove whispered softly to himself. It was tough to get anything by Harry. He sized up the situation in short order and came to the rapid conclusion that not only was this woman lying through her teeth, but also that whatever crimes Peter Carson committed could probably also, one way or another, be laid at her door. Poor schmuck, he thought, but of course it didn’t matter. He was here to earn his three hundred Gs, and right or wrong had nothing to do with it.
Mr. A.A. Gabriel said nothing during the entire plaintiff’s presentation, made not one objection, asked no questions. He seemed to not even be paying attention. When Julie’s direct examination concluded, everyone assumed Mr. Gabriel was going to continue to be a passive observer.
Just as Harry was about to dismiss the witness, Gabriel stood and said, “I have a few questions for Mrs. Morgan, your Honor.” The knot in Harmon Grove’s gut instantly tightened.
As Gabriel spoke, a bailiff opened the courtroom doors and wheeled in a large video monitor.
“Hold up there, Mr. Bell,” Harry barked from the bench. “I didn’t order you to bring that machine into my courtroom.”
“Sir?” the puzzled bailiff responded.
“I said, what’s that television set doing in my courtroom, Mr. Bell? I didn’t ask you to bring it in.”
The young bailiff was obviously confused. He unfolded a piece of paper as he approached the bench.
“Judge Grove, sir, yesterday you gave me this. Don’t you remember? You told me to bring this TV in at two p.m. sharp. Look, you even signed the note yourself. You were very insistent, your Honor.”
Harry examined the note. It was his handwriting, no doubt about it. He knew that Greg Bell, the pissant little nerd who was his deputy bailiff, would never have the guts to lie to him about anything.
Think, Harry, think, he urged himself. He felt out-of-control, which made him both jumpy and angry.
Rather than look like an idiot, Harry nodded as if he’d just remembered something and instructed Mr. Bell to wheel the video unit in and set it up in front of the currently unused jury box. He did so without further explanation, and with no knowledge as to who would be using the display or what would be shown.
“Thank you, your Honor,” Gabriel said, as he stood and approached the witness chair. “My client and I appreciate your granting our request to use this picture transmission device.”
“Picture transmission device?” Harry muttered under his breath. Who talks like that? Where’s this guy from anyway, Mars? The Honorable Judge Grove was desperately trying to get a handle on an increasingly unpredictable situation.
“Mr. Gabriel, remind me again why we need this video unit in here today? I’m still not totally clear on its purpose.” Despite being so keyed up he wanted to leap out from behind his bench and choke this impudent new lawyer and his loser client, Harry dialed it down and kept his cool.
“Certainly, your Honor. If you recall, I phoned Mr. Bell and inquired of him about the rules concerning video playbacks. He told me there was no rule per se, they were permitted, but of course any evidence introduced was admitted at the court’s discretion. I suppose it was sometime after that Mr. Bell informed you of our desire to introduce such evidence, with your permission, of course, your Honor.”
Greg Bell looked over at Harry and rapidly moved his head up and down in agreement.
“Well, sir, then I have a question.”
“Yes, your Honor.”
“How do you intend to play your tapes or disks? I see only a television set over there, Mr. Gabriel. Where’s the VCR or DVD player?”
The skittish Mr. Bell was noticeably anxious to answer this question too, but Gabriel quickly responded before that was necessary.
“As I told Mr. Bell, we have some new technology we’ll be using today, your Honor. We can show our pictures without using one of your playback devices.”
This comment drew a few chuckles from Mr. Kemp and Mr. Palmer, who thus far had let the video discussion go by unchallenged.
“Your Honor, if you please,” Mr. Palmer said as he stood, adjusting his vest and tie. “This is a family law hearing. Videos, new technology, we have been told nothing of this. We obj … ”
The moment the smug Mr. Palmer began his argument Gabriel closed his eyes, whispered something in Aramaic and passed his hand over his body from left to right. The move was so quick and subtle no one in the courtroom caught it. No one except Harry, that is. Everything Gabriel did was now the sole focus of his attention.
For some reason Mr. Palmer did not finish his statement to the court.
“Yes, Mr. Palmer, you object. What is it you object to, sir?” Harry desperately wanted Julie’s lawyer to give him an out, to provide him with any reasonable excuse to put an end to the hearing or at least get rid of the video equipment.
“Nothing, your Honor, I have no objection. Plaintiff does not object to the introduction of accurate video evidence at this proceeding.” Mr. Palmer had no idea why he was saying this, but he sure felt better once he said it and sat down.
Judge Grove glared over at the Plaintiff’s table. What the hell was going on? Walter was clearly bored with all the courtroom chatter, the dimwitted sot. He kept checking his watch and fidgeting, obviously annoyed that the hearing was now well into its third hour. As for the crack legal team of Palmer and Kemp, they were sitting expressionless, as if someone had injected each of them with a heavy dose of Thorazine.
Harry recognized the box he was being forced into. The Morgan’s lawyers had no objection to any “accurate” video evidence, and by some magic he had authorized its introduction into the hearing.
“Alright, Mr. Gabriel. It’s your witness, but I warn you, sir. Keep this brief and relevant. This is a court, not a circus. I am a judge, not a ringmaster.�
�
“Yes, your Honor, of course. I can assure you that everything done here today will be proper.”
Julie patiently endured these exchanges from her vantage point in the witness chair, doing her best to seem detached and to remain confident. But like Harry, she knew that none of this was any good and never should have happened. She made a mental note to have Walter fire the two incompetents she had for attorneys.
“Mrs. Morgan,” Gabriel said, “before I begin I want to give you the opportunity to change your testimony. Would you like the chance to tell the court what really happened last Christmas Eve?”
Julie felt Gabriel’s eyes penetrating into her soul. She was used to men staring at her, but this was something else. What was it about this guy? Then it hit her. He can prove I’m lying. Somehow, someway, oh God, he can prove I’m lying.
Trying her best to demonstrate indifference, even Julie’s considerable skills at deception were being pushed to the limit, she swallowed hard and answered, “I have no idea what you are talking about, sir. I told this court the truth about what happened.”
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Morgan. As the Lord once said to Saul of Tarsus, ‘You must find it hard to kick against the goads.’”
As if on cue, the lights dimmed in the courtroom and the monitor turned itself on. On the screen were Julie and Peter sitting on the lawn at Parkersboro. The camera angle was so close, and the picture so sharp it seemed certain that whoever shot the video must have only been a few feet away. How Peter managed to film them together was beyond her, but based on the first thirty seconds of chit chat from the “tape,” Julie knew it was the real deal. She had to put a stop to this. But how?
The first thing that occurred to her was her lawyers needed to do something, but when she looked over at her counsel table, Mr.’s Palmer and Kemp were mesmerized, totally captivated by what they were seeing. No help there.
Time for plan B. I’ll faint, Julie thought. They can’t ignore me if I fall out of this witness chair and tumble on to the floor.
It was then Julie Morgan realized that Peter had been telling her the truth. God had indeed touched him and was helping him exactly as he claimed. She knew this because inexplicably, Julie could now neither speak nor move, although she remained conscious and alert. Like everyone else in Judge Grove’s courtroom, she was going to watch the “video,” like it or not.
As the playback progressed, there she was, larger than life, first trying to bribe Peter and then threatening him. It was so vivid, so real, she thought, not like a videotape or a film, but rather something more. Julie swore that if her invisible restraints were removed, she could get up and walk right into the image being shown and sit down on the grass. When it was over the lights came back on and the monitor returned to black.
“Mrs. Morgan, I will ask you once more, would you like the chance to change your testimony?” Gabriel’s tone was somber now, and his statement was made in the form of a warning, not a plea.
“Do not answer that question, Mrs. Morgan.” Judge Grove, along with everyone else present, was now free from the shackles of the invisible force. “Mr. Gabriel, you will explain yourself, sir. Just exactly how did you come by this recording? Who made the film? This court wants answers and until it gets them, the machine stays off and the witness will answer no more questions.”
“Harmon Grove, do you believe that God sees and knows all?” Gabriel asked. “That nothing one does escapes the attention of the Almighty?”
Harry was in no mood for any more surprises. He could have sworn that he had somehow been temporarily muted and immobilized during the five minute or so “video” of Mrs. Morgan and Mr. Carson, but how could that be? It was obviously some trick, some mental slight of hand. On an instinctual level Harry knew that what he had just witnessed was very real, but who shows a tape without a tape player? Now this clown wants to know if I believe in an omniscient God? Harry had seen and heard more than enough and he was only slightly more incensed than he was scared to death.
“This hearing is over. I will see counsel in my chambers immediately!” Judge Grove boomed, hoping to sound authoritative despite feeling inside like a bug headed straight for a windshield.
“No, Harmon Grove. This hearing is not over. It’s just begun,” Gabriel said matter-of–factly, as if he were the one running the proceedings, which of course he was.
“Well, you brazen son of a bitch! I’ll be damned if you’ll come into my courtroom and tell me what’s what. I find you in contempt, sir. Bailiff, I want you to … ”
“Enough,” Gabriel said, and as he did, the Judge fell silent. The courtroom wide paralysis returned. Only Gabriel, Peter, Gail, and Kevin were unaffected by it.
“Judge Grove, the time has come for you to be held accountable. How many men have come before you seeking justice only to be given unmerciful abuse? Who are you to judge another anyway, Harmon Duke Grove? Your sins are so numerous and vile, words cannot express the revulsion God has toward them.”
When the lights dimmed this time and the picture returned, the subject matter had nothing at all to do with Peter’s fitness to be a parent, or Julie’s lying. It was the Judge’s life that was now on display.
Harry was forced to watch helplessly as his carefully concealed double life was exposed. On the screen for all to see were images of him having sex with children and doing drugs. Dates and times of each event were noted on the bottom of the display. One by one, encounters rolled by which were both pornographic and disgusting. Later, Kevin said that he had neither seen nor heard any of this, a blessing for which Peter was very grateful.
Then, as the sexual images stopped, there was Walter and Harry, relaxed and sipping bourbon on the back porch of the Morgan estate, cutting the financial deal for Harry’s protection of P.R. Morgan Distillers. This was followed immediately by clips from a victory party celebrating Judge Grove’s dismissal of a wrongful death suit against the company less than a year before.
Then the lights came back on. Although now free to do so, everyone present was too shocked to say or do anything.
In the confusion, just before Judge Grove’s “video” began playing, three men slipped into the courtroom unnoticed and took seats in the back. One was the United States Attorney for the State of Georgia, another was the FBI’s Special Agent in Charge.
The day before each had received a package in the mail. In it was evidence, sworn statements from “Little D,” and Harry’s pimps and drug dealers, and still photos of some of the images Gabriel had shown in court, along with an invitation to be present at Peter’s hearing. While neither of the men knew who A.A. Gabriel was, or why he had sent them this information, it didn’t take them long to figure out that what they had been given was on the level.
After a minute or so of sitting in his chair red faced and dazed, the only command Harry’s brain could come up with was “flee.” Forget where you are, forget you are a judge, stand up and run for your life.
The last in a long line of the “Honorable Groves” took a deep breath and decided to follow this primitive flight instinct, albeit in as orderly a manner as was possible. He looked up and saw that everyone else was as stupefied as he was, no one knew what to do. This, he thought, might buy me some time to make a discrete exit.
But right then Harry caught sight of the Feds sitting in the back row, both of whom he recognized. As Harry watched, the FBI Special Agent in Charge spoke into his cell phone, whispered something to the prosecutor, stood and reached for his handcuffs.
My God, Harry realized. He’s coming for me. I’m being arrested.
It was too late for arguments, too late for explanations, or legal maneuvers. No amount of money, social status, or family pedigree was going to save poor Harry Grove now and he knew it. There was only one way out.
Harry kept a pistol hidden in the top drawer of his bench desk, carefully concealed inside a hollowed-out legal text. While he did not ever envision having to use it as a means of escape from his own courtroom, when Harry op
ened the book he was very thankful that it was still there, a dull black six shooter loaded and at the ready.
As the Special Agent in Charge approached the bench, Harry was set to pull out his pistol and get the drop on him. But before he could, five more of the FBI brethren entered the courtroom, weapons drawn.
With a fatalistic sense of calm, Harry immediately realized that he couldn’t shoot all of them. His escape plan had been nullified, he was trapped.
The demons that had haunted Harry for so long, and had tempted him into living a godless life of depravity and conceit, were now ready to finish their work. The trauma of having his sins revealed caused Harry’s mind to become like a dry sponge, and on to it the servants of hell splashed images of brutal prison rapes and beatings, isolation, humiliation, and despair; that even someone as lost as H.D. Grove could repent and be made clean again was a truth the demons buried under layers of shock and terror.
In one smooth motion, Georgia Superior Court Judge Grove pulled out his pistol, cocked it, placed the barrel in his mouth, and pulled the trigger. A few seconds later Harry awoke to his eternal reward amidst the dull grey ruins and the agony of the black mist.
Since just before the Judge’s portion of the “tape” started “playing,” Kevin had been sitting on his father’s lap, arms wrapped around his neck in the hope that he might never have to let go. Julie, so close to the action in the witness chair that her dress was splattered with bits of Harry’s blood and brain, now leaped out of her seat and into Peter and Kevin’s embrace. Overwhelmed, all Julie was able to say was “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
“Julie Morgan,” Gabriel said, as he bent down to wipe away the tears that were streaming down her cheeks, “Peter will tell you who I am. Woman, God has given you another chance and spared your life today. Do not be deceived, God is not mocked. Obey His commandments and live, Julie Morgan. Repent and be a mother to your son.”
