Brooks-Lotello Collection

by Ronald S. Barak

  “Aside from the question of whether a body already dead can be legally raped, I thought you said that Mr. Hollister’s not a suspect in any crime.”

  “He’s not a suspect. At least not yet. If he can account for his time that evening, that will continue to be the case. If he can’t, then he may well become a suspect. That remains to be seen.”

  “Detective, for the time being, I’m going to advise Mr. Hollister not to answer your question. I prefer to see where this discussion is headed.”

  “Mr. Hollister, are you refusing to answer my question?”

  Hollister finally completed a single thought for the first time since the meeting started. “I pay my counsel a great deal of money for his advice. It’d be pretty silly for me not to follow it.”

  “So you are declining to answer my question?”

  “Correct. At least for now, I consider my hands tied. I’d like to cooperate, but I won’t ignore my counsel’s advice.”

  “Very well. Mr. Hollister, were you acquainted with the late Senator Wells?”

  Sensing no resistance from Mortimer to that question, Hollister responded. “I was.”

  “When did you first meet Senator Wells?”

  Again no objection from Mortimer. “I don’t recall really. Probably about two or three years ago.”

  “What were the circumstances under which you first met the senator?”

  “Hmm. I don’t believe I recall.”

  “Do you recall how many times you had occasion to speak with the senator in the two or three years before her death?”

  “I could guess. But I don’t actually recall. Are you asking me to guess?”

  “I would appreciate your best estimate.”

  “Hold on, Blaine,” interjected Mortimer. “If you have a reasonable estimate, you can answer, but I don’t want you to guess.”

  “I would estimate speaking with Wells on two or three occasions in the few months before her death. I have no sense of the number of times further back than that.”

  “Would it be more than ten times or less than ten times?”

  “Would what be more or less than ten times?”

  “The number of times you spoke with her over the past two or three years.”

  “I would just be guessing. Mr. Mortimer instructed me not to do that.”

  “What was the nature of your relationship with the senator?”

  “Hey, Detective,” Mortimer cut in, “you’re skating pretty close to the edge with that question. Mr. Hollister’s entitled to his privacy. For that matter, so is the senator.”

  “The senator’s dead, Mr. Mortimer. She’s no longer entitled to any privacy. As for Mr. Hollister—”

  “Let’s not haggle, Detective. You can answer the question, Blaine.”

  “I’m sorry, what was the question?”

  “What was the nature of your relationship with Wells?”

  “I was one of her constituents. I made donations to her campaign and to some of her projects. I spoke with her on occasion about my political views and perspectives. To make sure she was aware of what they were.”

  “Apart from that representative/constituent relationship, did you ever see the senator on a purely social basis?”

  “Don’t answer that, Blaine. Detective, I said you were skating near the edge. You just crossed over it. Blaine, I advise you not to answer that question. I believe it’s an invasion of your privacy.”

  “Are you going to answer the question, Mr. Hollister?”

  “What’s the question?”

  “Did you and the senator ever see each other socially?”

  “You mean apart from talking politics?”

  “That’s right.”

  “I’m not going to answer that question on the advice of counsel.”

  “Do you have any other reason?”

  “Any other reason for what?”

  “Any other reason you’re not going to answer that question?”

  “No.”

  Lotello could see that Hollister was too well prepared. He was not getting anywhere with his questions. And he wasn’t going to. It was time for him to report back to Judge Brooks. “Gentlemen, I want to thank you for your time. But I’m afraid we’re not getting anywhere meaningful. I’m not placing you under arrest today, Mr. Hollister, but you may soon leave me no choice but to open an official investigation into your possible complicity in the murders of Senator Jane Wells, Deputy Secretary of the Treasury Jody DiMarco, and SEC Chairman Derrick Johnson. I don’t want you leaving town without the prior written authorization of the D.C. police.”

  “That’s utterly absurd, Lotello. Do you mind my asking you why you think Mr. Hollister may have anything to do with the commission of these serious crimes?”

  “I do mind, Mr. Mortimer. Again, thank you both for your time this morning. I’ll be in touch.”

  “No other questions for Mr. Hollister at this time, Detective? It seems a shame not to ask any more questions you may have while we’re all here.”

  Yeah, a shame not to give you guys any more free discovery of what’s on my mind than I already have. There’s no reason to do that when I’m not going to get any useful answers. “No, Mr. Mortimer, I think we’ve gone as far as we can for today. I’ll show myself out. I will be in touch.”

  “Well, then,” Mortimer responded, “have a nice day, Detective.”

  Hollister didn’t say anything further.

  * * *

  AS SOON AS HE exited the meeting, Lotello wrote down everything that had been said. At least as best as he could recall it. The good news was that the meeting was brief enough for Lotello to accurately write down almost everything that was said. The bad news was that not much of any consequence actually was said. Time to update Brooks?

  CHAPTER 81

  Thursday, July 30, 8:15 a.m.

  BROOKS WAS NOT AS “caught unawares” the second time as he was in the case of Lotello’s first unscheduled early-morning knock on his car door. “Good morning, Detective. I trust you have something more to report. Hop in. I’ll give you a short tour through the streets of D.C. Notice I said short. Otherwise, I might have to charge you for the gas.” Brooks said nothing to Lotello about his own research efforts.

  Lotello began by playing the recording he had made of his meeting with Thomas. Brooks listened carefully, start to finish, nodding almost imperceptibly on occasion. When the tape ended, he asked Lotello to play it once more. After listening a second time, Brooks asked Lotello how his meeting went with Mortimer and Hollister.

  “I’m afraid not very well, Judge. I was pretty much stonewalled from start to finish. I was not allowed to record the meeting. I did bring some notes I made immediately following the meeting.”

  Brooks pulled into the parking lot of a local pharmacy. “How’s your handwriting?”

  “Not bad.”

  “Okay. Please let me see them.”

  Lotello handed over the notes. Brooks read them through a couple of times. He then put his car back into drive and headed back to the courthouse parking lot. “Okay, Detective, here’s what I’d like you to do: Number one, please be sure you preserve and safeguard both the recording you made and your notes. It would also be a good idea for you personally to make a couple of copies of each for safekeeping. Number two, I believe you said you are acquainted with Deputy PD Klein. The lawyer who is defending Mr. Norman?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Please get ahold of her and inform her of what you have told me this morning. Don’t tell her about our meetings. Just tell her about the meetings you’ve had with Thomas and with Hollister and Mortimer.”

  “Should I give her copies of the recording and my notes?”

  “That’s strictly up to you and her. Thank you for your assistance, Detective. Close the door on the way out.”

  “That’s it, Judge?”

  “In terms of anything I’ve been asking you to do, yes. That’s it. What you do from here on is solely a matter of whatever you’d do in t
he ordinary course of your duties. I would, however, encourage you to watch your back. Carefully.”

  “I always try to do that, Judge.”

  “Thanks again, Lotello. I suspect we might be seeing more of each other before this matter is concluded.”

  “Yes, sir. Is it appropriate for me to ask what is going to happen next on your end?”

  “It really isn’t, Detective. But you’ll know soon enough.”

  CHAPTER 82

  Thursday, July 30, 10:00 p.m.

  BROOK’S WIFE, ELOISE, WAS nothing if not protective of her husband. She didn’t like it when he brought his work home with him. “How much longer are you going to be working tonight, dear?”

  “Just a little while longer. A little more reading. A little more thinking and organizing. I’ll be along soon.”

  “Not too much longer, please. You know I don’t like it when you don’t eat on time. And when you stay up all hours of the night.”

  “I understand. Just a little while longer.”

  Sitting in his home office, Brooks collected his thoughts. What a kettle offish! The executive and legislative branches of our government have seemingly lost their moral compasses. Brought our economy to its knees. If not worse. Possibly much worse. Some shadow operative of the CRP has done God knows exactly what. Possibly leading to poor Bernie’s death in one way or another.

  Did it upset Bernie so badly that he truly died of natural causes? Did it upset him so badly that he took his own life? He sounded down when he called me. Did Thomas do something more directly to contribute to poor Bernie’s death? And does this buck stop with Thomas? Or, unthinkably, does it go higher up the ladder? Possibly into the White House? If so, how far up that ladder does it go? Are we possibly confronting another presidential meltdown here? Is Hollister involved in any of this? If so, how?

  And what, pray tell, am I now supposed to do with the Norman case? How could Norman properly be convicted under these circumstances? No way is this trial going to play out the way I first thought. Certainly not if Klein seeks to defend Norman as I now have no doubt she will. Especially after she hears from Lotello. The reverberations of this trial are going to be unlike any case I’ve ever tried. Maybe unlike any case any judge has ever tried.

  This has been a long, tough week. They’re going to get longer and tougher before all of this is over. Eloise may be right. She usually is. I probably ought to get some sleep. While I still can. If I still can.

  PART FIVE

  THE TRIAL

  August 3–7

  Adversity is the first path to truth.

  —BYRON

  I was married by a judge, I should have asked for a jury.

  —GROUCHO MARX

  CHAPTER 83

  Monday, August 3, 9:30 a.m.

  THE CASE CALLED, AND appearances made, counsel watched Brooks for some indication of how he intended to proceed next. So did the public gallery seating area to the rear of the courtroom, occupied by members of the media as well as the professional and amateur judicial observers.

  “Counsel, I believe we have some pretrial motions still pending?”

  Both Klein and Reilly nodded in agreement.

  “The clerk has called for a jury panel. The panel should be here in thirty to forty minutes. That’s about how long we have to get through our remaining motions. Which of course must be heard outside the presence of the potential jurors. We’ll then turn to selecting our jury from the panel.

  “As counsel knows, in response to the budget crisis facing our D.C. court system, and other local court systems around the country, our D.C. appellate court, working with local bar associations, has come up with a ‘fast-track’ trial process that allows us to try cases on an expedited basis without offending any due-process rights. We will be trying this case under the new fast-track rules.

  “I’d like to see our jury seated before the end of the day. In spite of the common misconception that it requires days, if not weeks, to select a jury, it took only one day to select the jury in the 2006 Texas trial of Kenneth Lay and Jeffrey Skilling in the Enron securities fraud case. That case was almost as notorious as this one. And certainly more complex. With disciplined and efficient hard work, we should be ready for opening statements by each side tomorrow morning. I would expect the prosecution to call its first witness before lunch.

  “My notes show two remaining motions for us to hear and decide this morning. If the jury panel arrives before we dispose of these motions, the clerk will keep them out in the hallway until we are ready for them.

  “First, there’s the defense motion in limine not to allow the prosecution to present to the jury any evidence of the defendant’s alleged admissions against interest. Essentially that he said he would—and did—get even.

  “Second, there’s the defense motion to be allowed to defend on the grounds of justifiable or excusable homicide—the justification or excuse being the alleged gross abdication of public responsibility on the part of our executive and legislative branches of government, and the resulting so-called impact on the defendant and his immediate family. By the way, from here on out, we will all refer to this defense simply as justifiable homicide. The words ‘or excusable’ are redundant in this case. They don’t add anything. Having to say them over and over wastes a lot of time.

  “On the first motion, my tentative ruling is to deny the defense motion. To allow the jury to hear the defendant’s repeated admissions. Mr. Reilly, I assume you have no arguments to advance on this motion?”

  “Not unless the defense offers anything new I may wish to oppose.”

  “Ms. Klein, any new arguments on this motion?”

  “No, Your Honor, just that—”

  “Ms. Klein, what do you not understand about the word new? Do you have anything new I have not previously heard from you?”

  “No, Your Honor, I do not.”

  “Then my tentative ruling will be my final one and this evidence will conceptually be admissible. Of course, the defense will be entitled to object to any particular item of possible admission on the grounds that it is uniquely inappropriate on the basis of its own facts and circumstances.

  “Counsel, this brings us to the second and final still pending pretrial motion, the question of whether the defendant will be allowed to present a defense of justifiable homicide. I—”

  “Your Honor—”

  “Whoa! Hold it, Ms. Klein. I am not in the habit of being interrupted every time I pause to take a breath. Or to gather my thoughts. Conduct yourself in this fashion in front of the jury and you will not help your client’s cause.”

  “I apologize, Your Honor. It’s just that—”

  “Ms. Klein, please control yourself. Sit down. Listen for a moment and you just might learn a thing or two.”

  Klein sat. Brooks knew she was expecting him to finalize his earlier thinking that she would not be permitted to assert her coveted defense of justifiable homicide. However, the look on Klein’s face suggested that she was literally not going to take any adverse ruling on this subject sitting down.

  Brooks paused a moment to make sure he had everyone’s undivided attention. “I’ve thought long and hard about this justifiable defense motion over the past week. After some considerable personal research into the matter, I have tentatively decided to reverse my prior inclination. I will instruct the jury that it may consider this defense. Mr. Reilly, do you—”

  The courtroom gallery dissolved into sheer bedlam before Brooks could finish what he was saying. Brooks sat there banging his gavel. To no avail. I knew there would be hell to pay, but nothing like this. I guess I don’t fully grasp how on edge the country is over the decay of our political system. And the relationship between that topic and the justifiable defense argument in this case. I’m about to allow the defense to put our entire political system on trial just as much as Mr. Norman. I can only wonder what the jury pool sitting out in the hallway is thinking about all this commotion. I’ll wait a moment longer, but I will reg
ain control of my courtroom.

  The upheaval in the courtroom carried on for another minute or so until the decibel level finally tapered off to where Brooks could again be heard. Though scarcely. He continued to bang his gavel for almost another half minute before the ruckus adequately died down. And order was finally restored.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Brooks began, very calmly and very quietly, a reverse technique he had acquired many years ago to gain attention. “I understand emotions are running high. Listen up. Every dog gets its first bite. You just got yours. That will be the last one. Any more outbursts like that and I will empty this court for the remainder of the trial. Do you understand me? Zero tolerance. No more warnings.”

  In the blink of an eye, Brooks had transitioned from soft-spoken warmth to stone-cold ice. He stared ahead in total silence for the better part of another half minute, clearly reiterating his annoyance to all those in attendance. If the legendary pin had dropped, it would have been heard loud and clear. “I trust we understand each other. Ladies and gentlemen, as I was saying when we lost any semblance of decorum whatsoever, Mr. Reilly, would you like to be heard?”

  Standing upright, but apparently still in shock, if not a bit wobbly, Reilly said, “Yes, I would, Your Honor.” He seemed at a loss for words. As if he were trying to gather himself.

  “You may proceed, Mr. Reilly. Hopefully sooner rather than later. We still have a jury pool out in the hallway.”

  “Excuse me, Your Honor. I apologize, but I am truly at a loss for words. I believe your tentative ruling is unprecedented. Literally unheard of.” Reilly began to recover. He slowly built up a head of steam. “In the history of this country, the concept of justifiable or excusable homicide—excuse me, justifiable homicide—has been reserved to action taken on the spur of the moment. In the heat of passion. In response to a threat of immediate and grave physical danger to the acting party or his immediate family. There’s nothing like that present in this case. Absolutely nothing. There is simply no basis for your tentative ruling. No offense, Your Honor, but I believe your tentative ruling is reversible error. If you persist, I may feel obliged to take an emergency writ of appeal to the Court of Appeals. I implore you to reconsider.”