Judge Me When I'm Wrong

by Cheryl A Head

“I’m headed to the office. Where are you?”

  “We’re all at the office. We got Hamm back.”

  “You did? Awesome!” Gil paused a moment before asking, “Did you kill anybody?”

  “Not yet.” Charlie laughed.

  Gil listened as Charlie told the story of the pursuit of the dark blue Mercedes, the fake meter reader surveillance, and their harrowing escape. A Grosse Pointe Park police car had been dispatched to Charlie and Mandy’s house—a deterrent in case the dognappers showed up again. Mandy and Hamm were safe at the Mack office suite, and Judy was off to find a bone.

  “And there’s something else, Gil. Don got a call from his sheriff buddy at the courthouse. Remember I mentioned the knitting lady?”

  “She’s the one who was offered the bribe?”

  “Right.”

  “She was injured this morning in a hit-and-run.”

  “That’s either some kind of bizarre coincidence,” Gil said slowly, “or Canova feels threatened. Charlie, these guys mean business.”

  “I know. So do I.”

  There was a longer pause before Gil asked, “So, what’s phase two in the war plan?”

  “We don’t have a plan,” Don bellowed through the speaker. “And we need one.”

  Gil’s phone beeped with a second call.

  “Look, I’ll be there in twenty minutes. There’s stuff going on with Jason Ferry I need to talk to you about. Don’t start planning the next strike until I get there.”

  Gil hit the flash button on his phone for the incoming call.

  “Are you in Detroit?” Detective Holt asked through Gil’s car speaker.

  “Yep.”

  “I have two updates.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “First, we’ve turned over all videos to the prosecutors. They weren’t happy to get them.”

  “I bet. They’re obliged to disclose the evidence to the grand jury. It could go either way for probable cause, but what’s on the footage is consistent with Jason’s story. I believe the video evidence actually helps him.”

  “I do, too. Here’s the second thing,” Detective Holt said. “Jason called us. He said he knows who raped Maya and will testify for the prosecution.”

  “I’d heard he was considering that.”

  “He said he had a talk with you.”

  “Yes, but . . .”

  “He admitted an attorney for one of the boys told him to keep quiet about the rape. The attorney allegedly warned Jason they’d reveal his sexual orientation if he didn’t.”

  “He didn’t tell me that.” Gil’s voice was angry when he added, “I really hope none of the lawyers threatened him.”

  “Jason’s not afraid anymore. He’s coming into headquarters this afternoon to fill out an affidavit. He said he didn’t trust the campus police. I don’t know what you said to him, but it turned him around.”

  Chapter 18

  Wednesday

  Luckily, Hamm showed no signs of concussion, mental confusion or physical impairment. Charlie’s soreness attested to his running abilities, depth perception, and aim.

  “He hit my chest like someone throwing a bag of mulch.”

  “He’s a good boy,” Mandy purred, holding Hamm in her lap on the floor. The rest of the Mack team were around the conference table.

  Among her other talents, Judy knew just how to care for a canine head wound. Knowledge, she said, which had been acquired over a decade and a half of patching up the abrasions and bruises of her two sons. The tiny scissors in the first-aid kit proved ineffective for trimming the shaggy hair around Hamm’s wound, so Judy had Mandy distract him with treats, while she clipped away with a pair from the office supplies. He was content to lie across Mandy’s lap for that part of the treatment. Judy cleaned the wound with alcohol and cotton balls, and although Hamm jerked from the sting, he responded to Mandy’s baby talk and stayed in her lap. Judy made a trip to the grocery store to purchase spray-on liquid bandage, and with the cut shielded from bacteria, Hamm’s good behavior was rewarded with a meaty bone.

  Gil lobbed a question at Charlie. “Now that Hamm’s back, what’s your priority?”

  Every time Hamm heard his name he walked over to the person who said it. Gil reached down and gave him a rub behind the ears.

  “Well, I’ve been persuaded, from almost everyone here, to forgo physical violence against Goulet or his goons.”

  “Unless, of course, they initiate it,” Don added. “They’re not going to like that you got the better of them and rescued the dog.”

  “Why not just do what you intended before Hamm was taken?” Mandy said, wrapping her arms around his neck. “You were going to ask for time with the judge to tell her of the jury tampering.”

  Charlie was nodding in agreement when Gil made an excellent point. “Even with Hamm safe, the threat is still hanging over Charlie.”

  “You can’t be sure of that,” Mandy said.

  “I’m sorry, Mandy, but these men likely attempted a murder to keep their scheme going,” Gil said.

  “You mean Mrs. Andrews?” Judy asked.

  “Yes.”

  “You’re right, Acosta. These guys aren’t going to slink into the night. You’ve crossed them, Mack, and they’re sure to be pissed about that. If you try to shut down this trial, you’ll be poking an already angry bear.”

  “I don’t see that I have any choice.”

  “What would be the best-case scenario?” Gil asked.

  Charlie moved to sit on the floor next to Mandy and Hamm. Her partners shifted their chairs to the end of the table to face her.

  “I would speak to the judge, and tell her everything I know about the jury. I’d let her know about Goulet showing up in the courtroom and his fugitive status. I’d tell her of the meetings I’ve witnessed between Goulet and the new prosecutor. I’d tell her of the dinner meeting between Canova, Goulet, and Bateman. I’d tell her about the dognapping, and what we suspect about Mrs. Andrews’ hit-and-run.”

  “Have you really thought through the sequencing? What would happen next?” Gil asked.

  “I’ve thought about it only in general terms,” Charlie said, lifting herself from the floor and moving to the whiteboard. “Let’s plot it out.”

  “I can write on the board,” Don said, beating Charlie to the marker.

  “Fine, Don. Make two columns—one for my actions, the other for the result.”

  “Good,” Gil said.

  “Number one: Talk to the judge about the jury tampering. In the other column: Judge investigates, and declares a mistrial.”

  “Got it,” Don said, writing.

  “Number two: Share the info we have about Goulet with the judge. And for the other column: Judge has Goulet arrested.”

  Charlie looked at the board. “Wait a minute. I see what you mean, Gil.”

  “I thought you would. We have to plot out not only our moves, but Goulet’s countermoves, and as many of the unforeseen responses as we can think of.”

  After a half-hour of mapping actions, Judy left early, and Mandy took Hamm home where the patrol car was still standing guard. In another two hours, Charlie, Don and Gil had devised a plan that generally was the one they’d started with, but this time the moving parts were divided among the Mack Partners. Charlie would still request a meeting with the judge to inform her of the compromised jury. The other notifications—to the Wayne County Prosecutor, and the FBI—were assigned to Gil and Don.

  “I’ve got a few things on the Ferry case I need to discuss,” Gil said.

  “I’m too exhausted to take in much,” Charlie said. “Just give me the highlights.”

  “The highlights are these: Jason has decided to identify the people he knows were involved in the rape. Judge Ferry is not such an asshole after all. Brenda Ferry already knows Jason is gay, and I promised her I would either call or meet with Jason in the next couple of days to help with his coming out.”

  Charlie’s eyebrows tilted higher with each revelation.

&nb
sp; “Don’t worry. I’ll write it up for you, and everything is in control,” Gil said.

  “That sounds more like a series of surprises than control. But I trust you. I’ll be able to give you some help soon, Gil. Okay, everybody,” Charlie said, gathering her belongings. “I’ll see you tomorrow, which I predict will prove to be an interesting day. I’m going home to have dinner with my lovely woman and my resilient dog.”

  Chapter 19

  Wednesday Night

  Charlie and Mandy cooked pasta and shrimp together, shared a bottle of Riesling, washed the dishes, and then slipped into their coats for an early evening walk. The full moon followed their path, as did the two officers in the Grosse Pointe Park patrol car.

  The whole subdivision had been alerted to the assault and dognapping, and nearby neighbors and other dog-walkers stopped to inquire about Mandy’s well-being, and to rub Hamm’s healing head. He seemed to enjoy being the center of attention, and was clearly happy to be the recipient of the treats neighbors offered from their front steps.

  “We live in a good neighborhood,” Mandy said.

  “We sure do,” Charlie agreed.

  They waved a goodnight to the officers as they stepped into their front door. Hamm made a dash for the kitchen and his water bowl, and Charlie and Mandy settled onto the living-room couch, cuddling under a flannel throw. Hamm joined them, settling onto his downstairs doggie pallet. After a couple of sitcoms and the local news, they turned off the television and the downstairs lights. Charlie let Hamm out the back door to do his last piece of business for the night, peered out the window to assure herself the patrol car was parked a few doors away, and then secured the house before going upstairs.

  “I’m sorry about all this,” Charlie said, climbing into bed. “It could all have been avoided if I’d gone to the judge last week.”

  “Are they out there?”

  “Yep. Still there.”

  “We lose them tomorrow and I’m back to work.”

  “And it’s back to the courthouse for me. To speak to the judge.”

  “What about the ghost?”

  “Don called the FBI tonight to alert them that Goulet’s been hanging around the courthouse. He gave them the Periwinkle address and the name of the restaurant where Goulet met Canova and the young prosecuting attorney. Gil’s job tomorrow is to talk to his contact in the prosecutor’s office.”

  “So, you each have a piece of the whistle blowing?”

  “Yep. We came up with the three-front attack.”

  Charlie looked across the room where Hamm was sprawled on his giant doggie bed. He looked back at her.

  “You think he’ll be okay?” Charlie asked. “Maybe he should sleep with us tonight.”

  Hamm raised his head as if he knew he was being talked about. He wore an expectant look, waiting for an invitation onto the human bed.

  “Maybe not tonight. I want to make love,” Mandy said, reaching out for Charlie.

  “I’m not too obsessive and controlling?”

  “You’re both. But if you focus it all on me tonight, I’ll give you a temporary pass. Turn off the light.”

  Their lovemaking was languid, intentional, and accompanied by dog snores. Charlie allowed the tension she’d held in her body since yesterday to dissipate into a thick blanket of passion. Mandy was a pliant, receptive, appreciative conspirator in their moonlit dance.

  Chapter 20

  Thursday

  Charlie arrived at Frank Murphy Hall of Justice a few minutes past seven. At that hour there was no line of visitors and no delay in the security check-in. She took the stairs to the second floor and, before entering the jury room, stopped at the clerk’s office. The two desks were unoccupied, so Charlie moved to the jury room to drop off her coat. The foreperson, Mr. Naidu, sat at the head of the table reading the newspaper.

  “Good morning, Ms. Mack. Are you feeling better?”

  “Uh. Yes.”

  “We missed you yesterday. It was an eventful day.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes. In addition to your absence, we lost one of our jurors to a tragic accident. Mrs. Andrews was struck by an automobile. She’s in critical condition. Our alternates had to fill in for the two of you.”

  Charlie draped her coat on the back of a chair, looped her backpack on the corner, and sat next to Naidu.

  “You don’t seem surprised at the news, Ms. Mack.”

  “I already heard about it. Where is everybody?”

  “We didn’t have to report today until eight-thirty.”

  Charlie raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms on the table leaning forward. They were alone, but there were other jury rooms along this corridor, and several people had walked by the open door.

  “Mr. Naidu. Someone is tampering with your jury.”

  “Yes. I know.”

  “You know?”

  “I overheard Mrs. Andrews mention it to you.”

  “What did you do about it?”

  “I reported it to the judge’s clerk.”

  “When was this?”

  “Yesterday. After I heard about the hit-and-run accident.”

  “I have reason to believe several other jury members have either been approached with the promise of monetary bribes, or have already agreed to a bribe.”

  “To say Mr. Canova is not guilty?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you have proof of this manipulation?”

  “Mrs. Andrews was my proof. But I’ve identified the person who’s coordinating the bribery attempts.”

  “Mr. Fletcher?”

  “No. It’s not him, although I’m sure he’s one of the compromised jurors, along with three or four others. It’s someone who has been visiting the courtroom, off-and-on, throughout the trial.”

  “I believe the alternate who has taken Mrs. Andrews’ seat may also be involved.”

  Charlie nodded. “What did the clerk say when you reported it to her?”

  “She asked if I wanted to speak with the judge about my concerns. I told her yes.”

  “The judge hasn’t requested to see you?”

  “No. But that’s why I came in early.”

  “I intended to speak to the judge myself,” Charlie explained. “I stopped by the clerk’s office on my way in, but no one was there.”

  “What should we do now, Ms. Mack?”

  “Let’s go to the clerk’s office together and wait.”

  Charlie and Naidu stood outside the clerk’s office fifteen minutes before one of the occupants appeared and entered without a word to them.

  “We’re waiting for Judge Smoot’s clerk,” Naidu spoke up after a nudge from Charlie.

  “Judge Smoot isn’t in yet.” The woman glanced up at them momentarily and returned to sifting through forms on her desk.

  “I’m the jury foreperson on the Canova trial, and I just need to speak with the clerk.”

  “I’m not sure where she is, but I can tell her to come find you,” the woman said, dismissing them.

  Charlie and Naidu returned to their seats in the jury room. They looked toward the door every time someone walked by. The ginger-haired courier came in, followed by his pal. They took seats and continued their conversation about alternative music. It was now eight-fifteen, and jurors arrived in a regular cadence. Fletcher entered the room and nodded to Charlie. Lucy and Pizzemente arrived shortly after and greeted the room. When Trina arrived, she scanned the room and ducked her head when she made eye contact with Charlie. She moved to sit by herself at one of the chairs near the windows. Law student Clint hurried into the room, his backpack bulging. He sat next to Charlie.

  “We missed you yesterday,” he said.

  “Yeah. I had a family emergency.”

  Trina looked over at them, and then away. Others trickled in, and Naidu counted until they had their full contingent of twelve jurors and one alternate. One of Naidu’s duties was to let the clerk know when they had full attendance. He stood, but before he got to the door the clerk walke
d in.

  “Good morning,” she recited.

  There were murmurs of good morning.

  “Okay. We’re ready to start. You can form your two lines.”

  Charlie saw Naidu try to get the clerk’s attention and observed how the clerk ignored him. He turned to look at Charlie and shrugged. What on earth is happening here? Charlie thought.

  In the courtroom, the court reporter and bailiff were in place. Attorneys at both tables sat examining documents. The gallery was mostly empty except that Goulet was there in the third row. They locked eyes for almost thirty seconds until Goulet gave Charlie a toothy, sneering smile. You won’t be grinning for long, asshole. Charlie only snapped her attention away from Goulet when she had to stand for the judge’s arrival. That’s when she noticed the clerk looking her way. Was everyone involved here? Were they all dirty?

  “Before we begin,” the judge said, “I’d like to issue a warning to the jury. It has come to my attention that jurors have been discussing this case among yourselves, as well as outside of the courtroom. You will recall from the orientation video that the effectiveness of the trial system relies on the integrity of the jury. It is one of the most important civic duties you can perform.”

  The judge took a long pause to scan each member of the jury. Having her stern look fall on you was not a pleasant experience. “This case will draw to a close in a couple of days, and I want to remind the jury there is to be no discussion of this case until it is time for deliberations. May I hear your affirmative responses?”

  All eyes in the courtroom were on the jury box. Canova leaned over to whisper something in Allan Bateman’s ear, and the two prosecutors stared with stern faces. The judge waited until she heard the “yes” of each juror. When it came to Charlie’s turn she fought the urge to stand and exclaim her proof of jury tampering. Instead, she complied with the judge’s order. She stared at the back of Mr. Naidu’s head. He was literally shaking in his seat. Charlie glanced over at Goulet, who was still sneering as if he had just turned over his hole card and it was an ace.