The Last Chance Lawyer
Page 24
“In fact, you tried to stop it, didn’t you?”
Out the corner of his eye, he saw Jazlyn stiffen. How did he know, she wondered? And the answer was—he didn’t. But he suspected Jazlyn wouldn’t do the deal without contacting the mayor’s office, and he didn’t think the mayor would like it.
“I never favor these immunity deals. I believe people who have committed crimes should be punished to the full extent of the law.”
“Even your old friend and business colleague Emilio?”
“Justice should be blind. Everyone should pay the price for their crimes. If they are guilty.”
“Truth is, you were hoping he would go away for a long time, weren’t you?”
“I had no hopes.”
“If you couldn’t kill him, then a long sentence at the penitentiary was the next best thing, wasn’t it?
Jazlyn shot up like a rocket. “Objection!”
The judge didn’t wait for an explanation. “Sustained.”
“That’s all I have.” He’d made his point. A little high drama would help cement it in the jurors’ minds. “Nothing more.”
As it turned out, Jazlyn chose not to cross-examine. He could understand that. She had ambitions and she didn’t want to anger the mayor—more than she already was.
He thought he had done a decent job of giving the mayor a motive to get Emilio out of the way, but there was no telling whether the jury bought it, even as a remote possibility. Some of it was a stretch. But of course, he didn’t need to convince the jurors of anything. All he needed to do was raise doubt.
Chapter 43
After a break, Dan called his next witness—the architect, Dr. Albert Kazan.
Kazan was dressed casually, but nothing like the aging hippie outfit he had worn when they met before. Today it was sports jacket and slacks, with a pink open-collared shirt. Kazan leaned back in the chair and crossed his legs, presenting a relaxed appearance.
He quickly established Kazan’s credentials as an architect and builder, primarily focused on the St. Petersburg area. They talked about the hotels, the resorts, the office buildings, and of course, The Meeting Place. He noticed smiles on the jurors’ faces as they talked about the magnificent park. Regardless of how much it cost, who didn’t love a park?
He glanced back at Maria and saw that she was pointing at her wrist, at an invisible wristwatch. In other words—the jury’s getting antsy. Move it along.
“Dr. Kazan, we just heard the mayor admit to an extensive financial and business relationship with Emilio Lòpez. He contributed to her campaign and contributed extensively to her various infrastructure projects. You worked with him as well, didn’t you?”
His lips pursed slightly. He was far less sanguine about the relationship than the mayor had been. “Yes, I was.”
“You told me you took money from him, right?”
“He was one of many investors in The Meeting Place.”
“You knew he was involved in drug pushing, didn’t you? Some say he was the biggest gang leader on the West Coast of Florida.”
“I didn’t hear that at the start.”
“But you did learn, at some point, that some of your funds had come indirectly from the sale of illegal drugs, right?”
He drew in his breath. “I heard about the possibility. Nothing was confirmed. It’s my understanding that Emilio has never been convicted of anything. And never will be, thanks to the immunity agreement.”
“And you told me you personally visited Emilio’s assistant.”
“That’s true.”
“So you had no problem with taking this money.”
“I don’t believe people should be convicted or ostracized based on accusations. There’s too much of that going on in the world right now. The press writes an ugly article about someone and they end up resigning. A woman makes an accusation about a man in power, and suddenly no one will work with him. I think it’s important that people not be destroyed until they’ve had a fair hearing.”
“And you felt Emilio had not had a fair hearing? He’s been arrested several times.”
“And each time he was either acquitted or the charges were dropped. Look, everybody who’s ever accumulated a fortune had to do something to earn it. If you dig deep enough, hard enough, long enough, you’ll find something to disapprove of. That’s the way the world works. If we get all holier than thou about fundraising, we’ll never get any money from anyone.” He turned to look at the jury. “And then there would never be a Meeting Place. No parks, no hotels, no tourist trade. St. Petersburg would fade away as so many other seaside towns have done. I didn’t want that to happen.”
“You also worked with the man who was murdered, didn’t you? Sanchez.”
“I never worked with him. I never took a penny from him.”
“But you knew who he was.”
“Not until shortly before he was killed.”
“Who brought him to your attention? Emilio?”
“No, I learned about Sanchez when Jack Crenshaw brought him to my attention. He’s an agent for Immigration and Customs Enforcement.”
He tried to control his reaction. He’d never heard about this.
“He came to my office, investigating Emilio. Told me about Sanchez. Said Sanchez and Emilio were working together, or trying to kill each other, he wasn’t sure which. For some reason, he thought I might know something about it.”
“Have you had any involvement with Sanchez’...industry?”
“With prostitution? Of course not. I told you that when we spoke before. No, but Crenshaw had suspicions about some of the people who had contributed to the park.”
“Based upon what?”
“How would I know?” He was becoming agitated. “Some of those rich contributors may be using escort services or Latin American whores. How would I know? Why would I care? This is America. Rich people can do pretty much anything they want.” He shrugged. “Sleep with a porn actress. Pay her to keep quiet. No one cares.”
“But Crenshaw thought you might know something about this?”
“So he said. He was a complete—” He stopped short. “He was damned unfriendly about it. Pushy. I suppose that’s what he does, browbeating people, playing the bad cop, seeing what he can pound out of you. But I resented it. I’ve never done anything to deserve that kind of treatment.”
“How did the conversation end?”
“Can you believe it? He threatened to stop the expansion. A billion-dollar project that we’ve been planning for years.”
“How could an immigration agent stop it?”
“By freezing our bank accounts. Impounding the money. Claiming that it came from illegal operations. He threatened to shut me down if I didn’t give him information about Sanchez.” He leaned forward and spread wide his hands. “But I had no information to give.”
“And yet, Crenshaw was convinced that you did.”
“Or maybe he was just fishing.” He shifted his weight. “Or maybe it was some bizarre plot.”
He arched an eyebrow. “A plot? A conspiracy? People out to get you?”
“Is that surprising? You can’t do anything significant these days without attracting detractors. Anybody in the public eye will be rewarded with critical trolls who don’t know anything about them. Front-page editorials passing as articles in right-wing broadsheets suggesting that you’re evil. Government flunkies trying to turn you into a criminal. It’s outrageous and it needs to be stopped.”
He seemed increasingly paranoid. “You felt ICE was out to get you? To shut down your park?”
“Isn’t it obvious? Why else would Crenshaw be hassling me? Does anyone seriously think I was involved with sex trafficking?”
He decided to take a shot. “I did notice several beautiful women in your office when I visited.”
Kazan rolled his eyes. “Newsflash. I’m gay. I’m not remotely interested in beautiful women.”
He retrenched. “I’m sure Sanchez has gay prostitutes, too.”
The judge pondered for a moment. “I agree that any discussion of personal sexuality is not relevant, and I would prefer that we stay clear of that.” What she was not saying, of course, was that she didn’t want it eliciting any juror bias. “But I can’t say the discussion of ties to organized crime is irrelevant.”
He nodded. “Thank you, your honor.” He decided to lunge in for the kill. “Immigration believed you were involved with Emilio or Sanchez or both. You had a good reason to want to see those two men dead.”
Kazan disagreed. “I don’t have a violent bone in my body.”
“You have a ton of money. You could hire someone.”
“I’m a businessman, not the Godfather.”
“But you’re in bed with the Godfather. And you didn’t wake up with a horse’s head. You woke up with a billion-dollar park.”
“You want to live in the real world?” he said, his voice rising. “Then you have to get your hands dirty. You have to break a few eggs.”
“Meaning you have to deal with drug pushers and killers.”
“If that’s what it takes to get the job done, yes!”
“And then, when they start to threaten the whole project, you have to get rid of them.”
“Yes!”
The courtroom fell silent.
Kazan didn’t wait for another question. “I’m not saying I killed anybody. Or got them killed. I would never do that. I’m just saying I have to take care of business. Every professional does. If you need to distance yourself from someone later, fine. You gotta watch your back. Every white male in America’s got a target on his back right now.”
Out the corner of his eye, he saw Maria drawing a horizontal line across her neck, a signal telling him to cut it off.
He agreed. It was never going to get any better. “No more questions.”
Chapter 44
After the trial adjourned for the day, Dan was exhausted. He knew they would rehash the case for hours, then plan for the next day. The last thing on earth he needed was a field trip. But Jimmy had somehow pulled more strings and gotten them in to see Esperanza again. She might be expecting them, and she might be desperate for visitors. He didn’t want to disappoint.
Maria drove while he reviewed his notes. They waited in the holding room for almost ten minutes before Esperanza appeared. The matron in charge pulled him to one side.
“Do you still have people watching this place?”
“Two security officers outside. Night and day.”
She nodded. “You may want to...increase that.”
His jaw clenched. “Tell me what happened.”
“Maybe it’s nothing. But we found a place in our chain link fence that was partly cut. Like someone tried to get in. I think they got scared off before they finished the job. But still...”
“I’ll double the security. Round the clock.”
He felt a gnawing in his stomach that would not subside. First the bloody doll. Now this. “You keep Esperanza away from everyone but us.”
She nodded. “Is this going to go on...much longer? We’re all more than a little terrified.”
He didn’t blame them. He was scared too. “The trial will be over soon. One way or the other.”
“This detention will be over soon too. We’ve received the first wave of Esperanza’s deportation papers. The process takes about two weeks but...it’s begun.”
As if everything wasn’t bad enough already. “You keep her safe. I’ll work on the rest.”
She nodded and went back to find Esperanza. A few minutes later, they returned.
He gasped when the matron brought Esperanza in. She was almost unrecognizable.
What happened to this little girl? Her hair was not brushed—in fact, it looked as if it had not been brushed for days. Her eyes were dark. She seemed dirty.
But the most remarkable change was in her face. The inner strength that seemed so powerful before had disappeared.
She ran straight up to him and pounded on his chest. “Liar! You said you would get me out of here. You said you were going to help me!”
He was stunned. His lips parted, but he could not form words.
Maria cut in. “Esperanza, honey, calm down. We’re doing everything we can.”
“Then why am I here? Where’s Gabriella?”
“She’s still in jail, honey. We’re doing our best—”
“Liar! You’re all liars!”
He still couldn’t find the words. What had happened? He’d read about children removed from their parents by immigration officials following the new administration guidelines. The combination of fear, isolation, and separation from loved ones often had devastating psychological effects that lasted for years, if not forever.
Maria placed her hand on Esperanza’s shoulder, but the girl shrugged it off. She pounded again on his chest. “You said you would help me!”
“I—I am helping you.”
“Then why am I here? I hate it here. I hate you!” She pulled away, threw herself down on the table, and pounded.
He saw the matron move toward them, but he raised his hand. “Give us a moment.” He crouched down so Esperanza could see him. If she wanted to. He reached into a paper bag. “I brought you something.”
The pounding continued, but perhaps slowed a bit and diminished in intensity. She was listening.
He reached into the bag and pulled out a pair of Hello Kitty sneakers, just her size. They’d stopped at Journeys on the way over. “I thought maybe it was time for some new shoes. And I thought you might like having Kitty White keep you company.”
He could see that she looked at the sneakers, but ultimately turned away and resumed pounding. “I don’t want shoes! I want out of here! I want Gabriella!”
He could hardly bear it. She had seemed so strong before. But she was too young for this. Too young to be held in detention so long. And putting her in isolation, even though it was for her own protection, had made matters worse.
His heart ached, physically ached. He didn’t want to cut out on her. But he didn’t feel they were doing her any good.
He looked at Maria and shrugged. Should we stay? Should we go?
Maria leaned across the table. “Esperanza, I know you’re upset, honey. I don’t blame you. I can’t imagine what it’s like, locked up in here all by yourself. But it’s not forever. It will end eventually.”
“And then they’ll send me away! To another country, to people I don’t know!”
His eyelids fluttered closed. The full horror of her situation had finally hit home.
He could see Maria hesitating. Even she wasn’t sure what to say. “We’re doing everything we can to prevent that, Esperanza. Everything possible.”
He managed to contribute a creaky one-word affirmation. “Everything.”
“Liar!”
“The trial will soon be over.”
“And then Gabriella will be free? I can go home with her?”
He slid in beside Maria. He so wanted to say what he knew she wanted to hear. But that would only make it more devastating if it proved incorrect. “No matter what happens in this trial, we will be here for you. I will be here for you. And we will do everything we can to keep you in this country. Safe.”
“You won’t let them send me away?”
“I will do everything imaginable to stop it.” He gritted his teeth. “If I have to throw myself under the immigration truck, that’s what I’ll do.”
She thought for a moment. Finally, a glimmer of the old light returned to her eyes. “Please don’t do that. That would be stupid.”
He tilted his head to one side. “It was more like a... metaphor.” He swallowed. “Only a few more days and the trial will be over. One way or another, this will end.”
“Will you visit me again?”
“Of course we will. You know we
will.”
She paused a long time, wiping tears from her eyes, then finally pushed herself off the table.
“You know,” she said slowly, “there’s a Hello Kitty backpack that matches these shoes.”
A grin spread across his face. “Consider it yours.”
Chapter 45
Dan had almost reached his Porsche when the newspaper stand caught his eye. He normally didn’t even look at newspapers. He thought most of the so-called news was more repetitive than new and rarely of lasting importance. But this was different. How often did the word Sanchez appear in a headline?
ACCUSED THREATENED TO MURDER SANCHEZ
He wasn’t carrying any change and it took him five minutes to access the paper on his phone. Why didn’t newsstands take credit cards like everyone else in the world? Eventually he was able to read the article.
Quoting an anonymous source, The Herald reported that Gabriella, who it noted was a distant relative of Sanchez, had a sister who had worked for him as a prostitute. The article said she worried that the girl they called her ward, Esperanza, would be Sanchez’ next sex worker. The witness, whose identity was withheld but was said to be under the protection of immigration officials, allegedly overheard Gabriella promising to murder Sanchez the day before he was killed. The article went on to implicitly suggest that Gabriella arranged the meeting between Emilio and Sanchez and brought a gun for the purpose of assassinating Sanchez under the cover of a gangland shootout.
Damn. What now? He knew better than to go after the paper. They would hide behind anonymous sources and freedom of the press. But if he’d seen this article, some of the jurors had seen it as well. And even if they tried to forget what they read, realistically, how could they?
THIRTY MINUTES LATER he was in Judge Le’s chambers with Jazlyn. Normally, he would move for a mistrial based upon a tainted jury. But in this case, he couldn’t. If the court granted a mistrial, they would have to start from scratch. The earliest new trial date would be months down the road. Esperanza would be out of the country before they could start. He had to find another way to protect his client.