The Last Chance Lawyer

by William Bernhardt

  “You have Gabriella.”

  “Putting her on the stand would be a huge tactical error.”

  “It’s problematic, true. Less than ideal, certainly. But not a mistake. I don’t think you have a choice. The only way the jury is going to change its mind is if she explains what she meant by, ‘I took care of everything.’”

  “We could put Esperanza on the stand.”

  Maria smiled. “But I know perfectly well you’re not going to do that.”

  He was starting to get a bit annoyed with the Nostradamus act. “How can you know?”

  “Because Brian wouldn’t. He was much the same. Very idealistic.”

  “I’m not remotely idealistic.”

  “And sweet on children.”

  “I hate children.”

  “And a crusader.”

  “I’m just in it for the money.”

  She laughed, tilting her head so far back her hair flipped across the right side of her face, highlighting her eyes. “Yes, that’s what he would’ve said. And yet, he always seemed to be on the side of the underdog, taking impossible cases, fighting tooth and nail, never giving an inch. He took each case personally, fought for each client as if they were his own children.” She paused. “Just like you.”

  “You’re trying to make me into something I’m not.”

  “I don’t think so. And neither did Mr. K. He saw something in both of you, something he really liked. Perhaps even something that reminded him of himself.”

  “What happened to Brian, anyway?”

  She sighed. Her eyes turned downward.

  “Oh no. You said before you were in a relationship that recently ended. You and Brian were a couple, weren’t you? And it went sour, so he quit.”

  She craned her neck. “There was more to it than that.”

  “The relationship ended and you got custody of the law firm.”

  “He had a bad result. An extremely bad result. Client went away for a long stretch. Tore him apart. Made him...well, impossible to live with. I think he cared too much. He couldn’t handle the stress, the turmoil, the feeling of failure.” She brought her eyes back around. “And now I’m afraid you’ll become just like Brian.”

  “Impossible. I never date people at work. And you’re not my type.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  He didn’t think of himself as a quitter. But he did feel like Gabriella’s case was hopeless. “The judge is expecting me to call our first witness in about an hour. And I have no idea who to call.”

  “You did read my trial plan, right?”

  He nodded. “Create doubt.”

  “And the best way to do that is to suggest other suspects. Other murderers.”

  “I can’t build a case nearly as compelling as what Jazlyn created against Gabriella.”

  “You don’t have to. All you need is a reasonable doubt. Not an equal and opposite doubt.”

  He pressed his fingers against his temples. “I suppose I can try.”

  She laid her hand gently on his shoulder. “You’ll do more than try. You’ll do a terrific job.”

  “That doesn’t mean it will work.”

  “No. But it will mean Gabriella got the best possible defense. That’s all we can promise. Not every case can be won.”

  He heard the words reverberating in his mind. He knew it was meant to be encouraging, but it rattled in his brain like a curse. Not every case can be won.

  “So buck up, buckaroo. You’re doing great. So far as I can tell, you’ve only made one major mistake.”

  His forehead furrowed. “And that was...?”

  “When you said I’m not your type. I’m the girl you’ve been fantasizing about your entire life. But sadly, I don’t date people from work anymore.”

  Chapter 41

  Dan was surprised when Jazlyn stopped him on his way back to the courtroom. Wasn’t he usually the one making the interception play?

  She got straight to the point. “Against my better judgment, my office has instructed me to offer your client a deal.”

  He raised an eyebrow, not at the suggestion of a deal, but at the suggestion that she took instruction from someone. “What have you got?”

  “Your client pleads guilty to criminal manslaughter. We take intent off the table. I think she did intend it, I think it was deliberate and cold-blooded, but she wasn’t thinking clearly. She was trying to protect that girl, or her sister, or both. So we’ll give her manslaughter. She could be out in less than ten years.”

  “Do you know what ten years in prison would do to Gabriella?”

  “I think it’s better than a life sentence. Or a death sentence. Which is very much possible here. This was a gangland slaying.”

  “And she’s a nonwhite defendant.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You didn’t have to. But she wouldn’t survive prison. And Esperanza would be deported.”

  “Look, I’m not a miracle worker, but I’m trying to do you a favor. And it’s not because I think we’re going to lose. I’m trying to bring this to a just conclusion. Take the deal. It’s better for everyone.”

  “I don’t think Gabriella will agree.”

  “But you will take the offer to her, since that’s your ethical duty as her lawyer, right?”

  “Right.”

  A new voice broke in. “You should listen to the lady and take the deal, pardner.”

  He turned and to his surprise saw Crenshaw, the ICE agent, lurking about in his cowboy duds. How did he know what the prosecutor was offering his client?

  “This is none of my business,” he said. “But look, your adoption is sunk. No judge on earth would put a child in the custody of a woman who just stood trial for murder, even if she got off.”

  “Then you’ll deport Esperanza.”

  “No choice there. But this is still the best deal for your client. Don’t turn it down because you’ve got some pie-in-the-sky hope of keeping that girl stateside.”

  He frowned. He didn’t want to acknowledge it, but what the man said made sense. “I have to confer with my client. I’ll get back to you.”

  HE WAS NOT SURPRISED that Gabriella did not care for the idea. He was surprised when she burst out in tears.

  He placed his hand gently on her shoulder. “This is totally up to you. It’s just an offer. You can accept it or reject it. It’s your choice.”

  “Do you—do you—” She couldn’t finish the sentence.

  He signaled the bailiff and held up five fingers. The bailiff understood. He was asking for five more minutes before court went back in session. He didn’t want the judge or jury to see Gabriella like this.

  “Do you think I should take it?” she finally managed to say.

  “All I can do is tell you what the options are. If you’re convicted of first-degree murder, you could get the death penalty. At best, you’ll get a life sentence. That’s not necessarily your entire life, but it’s at least twenty years behind bars.”

  “I cannot do that.”

  “I know. If you accept this plea you’ll do maybe ten years, depending upon the actual sentence and time off for good behavior.”

  “I did not kill Sanchez.”

  “But the prosecution has made an excellent case. I’m gonna fight like hell, but I can’t make any guarantees. Jurors are ultimately unpredictable.”

  “So many white people are on that jury.”

  “Yes.” He’d like to pretend that wasn’t a factor, but he wouldn’t lie to her.

  “Do you want me to accept this?”

  He clenched his jaw. This offer smacked too much of the feds and prosecutors working together to come up with a tidy solution that allowed them to claim they cleaned up a mess. But what if he advised her to reject the offer and then she was convicted? He would never be able to live with himself. “It doesn’t matter what I want. It’s what you want.”

  “Why is that woman offering this? Does she think she’s going to lose?”

  “N
ot necessarily. It’s possible she’s afraid she’s going to win. She’s not a heartless person, even though she might seem that way in the courtroom. Prosecutors have to be tough.”

  “She wants to make a name for herself.”

  Maybe. But he thought he spotted genuine sincerity in Jazlyn’s eyes. He remembered when they’d talked the night they went out to dinner, which seemed like a million years ago. She’d mentioned the emptiness of her personal life, her regret about being unmarried and childless. She was honest then and he thought she was honest now. “I can’t read minds, but I think she’s making what she feels is a generous offer. She’s trying to help.”

  Gabriella shook her head, at first slowly, then so rapidly he was afraid she might hurt herself. “I cannot do it. I cannot do it.”

  “Then don’t.”

  “I cannot say I did something I did not. That I killed someone. How could I look at Esperanza again after I did that?”

  “Are you sure? Final answer?”

  “I will not plead guilty. Because I am not guilty.”

  He nodded, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “I’ll tell the prosecutor.”

  Chapter 42

  Dan wondered if he had ever gone into a case blinder then he was at present. He’d done his preparation, as much as the short fuse permitted. But he had no clear idea what he was going to do or how he was going to accomplish it. Thank goodness for Maria. In addition to conceiving the overarching strategy, she’d prepared witness outlines for everyone they might conceivably call. That didn’t guarantee a great cross-ex, but at least it gave him something to work with.

  He leaned in close to Maria. “If I haven’t thanked you yet for everything you’ve been doing—thanks.”

  “You don’t have to thank me. Helping is what teams do.”

  He noted, not for the first time, that she had one of those broad irresistible smiles that made everything seem better, even if it was completely irrational to feel better.

  Judge Le called court back into session. Since he had already given his opening statement, they launched straight into the witnesses.

  “The defense calls Mayor Camila Perez.”

  Thanks to Jimmy’s subpoenas, the mayor was waiting in the gallery, flanked by an entourage of security people. Jimmy had hand-delivered the subpoenas himself, trying to circumvent any hostility that might arise from being served by a cold, anonymous process server. He knew she didn’t want to testify. Why would she? But at the same time, they preferred that she not be completely hostile. And she couldn’t claim this was too inconvenient, since she’d been visiting the courtroom on her own earlier.

  He quickly led the mayor through the preliminaries, establishing who she was and what she did, as if anyone in the jury didn’t already know. They had to be curious why the mayor was visiting, and he hoped that curiosity would pique their interest and keep them listening—even if they thought they already knew how they were going to vote.

  Mayor Perez seemed calm and composed, energetic. A firecracker in a small but vivacious package. She was obviously accustomed to speaking in public but had the sense to tone it down here. She wasn’t giving a press conference, and typically, jurors distrusted witnesses who seem to be putting on a performance. They preferred to feel they were flies on the wall, observing private conversations from a distance, getting the real scoop, not just what witnesses wanted them to hear.

  “Mayor Perez, would it be fair to say you’ve made renovation and reconstruction a priority for your administration?”

  “Indeed.” She smiled. “I’m all about the infrastructure. I want those old houses, tattered neighborhoods, torn down. Everyone has a fundamental right to decent housing. And everyone has a right to a calm, happy living environment. Bright colors. Safe neighborhoods. And—”

  He cut her off. She was edging into campaign-speech territory. “Have you been able to fund all these renovations with taxpayer dollars?”

  “Of course not. Any time you initiate projects of this magnitude, you must fundraise. Private donors. Like-minded individuals who care about the future of St. Petersburg.”

  “One of your partners on the Meeting Place project has been Albert Kazan, right?”

  “I love Dr. Kazan. The man is a genius at design, construction, and business. He’s that rare dreamer who also has the ability to make his dreams a reality.”

  “You helped him make that park a reality.”

  “I helped him through the political hoops. Used eminent domain to seize land where necessary. Helped him circumvent the bureaucratic snafus.”

  “And in exchange, he’s assisted you with your renovation projects.”

  “I doubt I would’ve gotten nearly so far without his help. Did you know he donated almost a million dollars just for paint? Bright vivid happy-making paint. We’re splashing it all over the city.”

  All right. He’d given her enough rope. Now it was time to see if she’d hang herself. “You’ve also used Emilio Lòpez as a partner, correct? We heard from him earlier in this trial, so the jury is familiar with him and his...business activities.”

  “I have used many partners. Hundreds of them.”

  “But Emilio was a substantial donor, correct?”

  “You need many donors to make a project of this magnitude work.” If she was thrown, or irritated, she wasn’t letting it show. “It was important to me that we have contributors from all walks of life, all neighborhoods, all demographics. Including the Hispanic community.”

  “In fact, you and Emilio originally hail from the same neighborhood, correct?”

  “Many moons ago. I was a Southside baby. I would like to think that in some small way I have shown people there is always a way out. A way to better yourself. And a way to give back, to help others.”

  He could see why she had been elected. She was almost impossible to dislike. Even for him, the lawyer who wanted to make her look like a murder suspect. “You’re aware that Emilio has been associated with Southside gangs, aren’t you?”

  “I’ve heard rumors. Nothing has ever been proven.”

  “You know he’s been arrested repeatedly.”

  “And that saddens me.” She paused. “But I also know arrests are a way of life in those Southside neighborhoods.”

  “Come on now. Conviction or not, everyone knows Emilio was a gang leader.”

  “I don’t know that.”

  “Mayor, you took his money because you needed it. But you’ve also done your best to distance yourself from him, haven’t you?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  He held up a bright yellow brochure. “This is a piece of promotional material issued by your office. Do you recognize it?” He handed it to the bailiff, who then passed it to the witness.

  She only needed to glance at it. “Yes. This came from us. We used it after the first stage of construction on the park was completed to attract new donors.”

  “And Emilio was involved in the first stage, wasn’t he?”

  “Yes, I believe so.”

  “But I noticed his name does not appear on the roster of donors in this brochure.”

  He was relieved to see she wasn’t going to feign a lack of knowledge. “That is...true.”

  “You deliberately left his name off the list because you didn’t want to be associated with a known gangland figure, right?”

  She drew in her breath, then slowly released it. “What’s true is that I knew there were rumors afloat. And sadly, in the world of politics, rumors can be deadly. So after considerable discussion and with much regret, we left his name off the list.”

  “Did you inform him that he would not be included in the brochure?”

  “I called him personally. To his credit, he was most magnanimous about it. He completely understood.”

  “And you’ve continued to distance yourself from him, right? Someone wrote an editorial in the Herald?” He returned to his table and Maria handed him an exhibit. “You took a lot of heat because of your ties to Emilio
.”

  “I remember the editorial. I didn’t worry much about it.”

  “A politician who doesn’t care what the papers say about her?”

  “The Herald has never been my friend. I assume most of my constituency ignores that kind of editorializing.”

  “You stopped taking his calls.”

  “I am very busy.”

  “You turned down his offer of cash for the expansion project.”

  “It seemed prudent, all things considered.”

  “It must have occurred to you that your life would be better if Emilio...disappeared.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “What are you implying?”

  “Many people believe that the so-called Tragedy at the Trademark was actually a trap set to execute Emilio, not Sanchez. Or perhaps both of them.”

  She leaned forward. “Are you suggesting that I put out a hit on Emilio? That I tried to arrange his execution?”

  “You did have a motive. Your political career was on the line. And you’ll be up for reelection soon.”

  She folded her arms across her chest. “I find this whole line of questioning offensive.” She looked up, as if she expected the judge to get her out of it, which of course didn’t happen.

  “For that matter, you probably weren’t crazy about having Sanchez in your town, were you?”

  “I did not even know who this man was until I read that he was dead.”

  “A hands-on mayor like you? I find that difficult to believe.”

  Jazlyn rose. “Objection. Ask that the jury be instructed to disregard.”

  Judge Le nodded. “Sustained. The remark will be stricken from the record. Mr. Pike, please restrict yourself to asking questions. Relevant questions. No commentary.”

  “Yes, your honor.”

  “Anything more?” the judge asked. “I sense that you have reached the end of the line.”

  He smiled a little. That was about as close as she could get to pushing him out the door. “I’m almost there, your honor. One last matter.” He returned his attention to the mayor. “Were you aware that the prosecutor was planning to offer Emilio an immunity deal?”

  She frowned slightly. “I did hear about that, yes.”