Twisted Justice, page 4
Camila shook her head slowly, but firmly. “You’re wrong.”
“About what?”
“That whole rant.”
She tried not to be annoyed. “Can you be more specific?”
“Dan was not the target. I was.”
“How do you figure?”
“It’s obvious. But your affection for Dan blinds you.”
“Dan and I are partners. Period.”
“Yes, yes, I know. But that does not mean you don’t feel stirrings inside when he is near.”
“I don’t, actually.”
“You are correct when you say law enforcement has no affection for Dan, or any other defense attorney. But there is something else they hate even worse. A female boss.”
“I’m sure there’s a lot of sexism...”
“And what do they hate even worse than a female boss? A Latinx female boss.”
“A lot of the men on the force are—”
“The men, yes. That’s the key word. And what could possibly make their hatred and resentment even worse? A female Latinx boss who is very pretty. Who they will never get close to.”
Maria chose her words carefully. “It’s possible you’re...personalizing this to an excessive degree. Remember, they didn’t bug your home. They bugged Dan’s boat.”
“Because they knew I would be there. For all we know, they bugged my home as well.”
“Sweeney wants Dan eliminated.”
“He has also expressed his antipathy toward me. On several occasions.”
This was fruitless. And turning into a competition to prove who was most despised. “I suppose it doesn’t matter. The bottom line is, you’re both in jail now and you’re both going up on murder charges.”
“Do you know when the murder is believed to have taken place?”
“Not precisely. Why?”
“I was in my office working late that day. I came to your celebration party late, remember? And then I accompanied Dan to his boat. Depending on the timing, I may have an alibi. For that matter, Dan may as well.”
Maria hoped that was true. But she also knew that Dan had disappeared for several hours between the courtroom finale and the party. “I’ll check it out.” She caught herself. “And whatever I learn, I will convey to your attorney, as soon as I know who that will be.”
“I will arrange counsel today. I would rather be represented by the best firm in the city...but since you refuse me, I will go elsewhere.”
Hoo boy. “We will not leave you dangling in the wind.”
Camila gave her a stony glare. “It appears to me that you already have.”
Chapter 7
Jazlyn tried to keep her head above the chaos, but it wasn’t easy. Since she had been the lead assistant district attorney, and the actual district attorney was dead, everyone assumed she was in charge. She wasn’t sure if there was any legal basis for that. She hadn’t been elected and there was no precedent for this in Pinellas County. But like it or not, she did appear to be in charge. Her first order of business? A criminal prosecution targeting a man she considered a close friend and the mayor of the city.
As if that weren’t enough, she was in the middle of her own campaign for district attorney. Some said that election was now a foregone conclusion, but she wasn’t so sure. As soon as someone got a whiff of weakness, maybe someone who thought she wasn’t handling this high-profile case properly, they might be eager to take a shot at a regular government paycheck.
Her assistant, Logan Pierce, entered her office. “Are you ready for messages?”
Jazlyn pressed a hand against her forehead. “Are there many?”
“About four thousand and twelve. But I can prioritize.” Logan was a legal assistant and they’d worked together for years, so she tended to trust him. He was smart, skinny, and an excellent dresser, but most importantly, he knew how to get rid of people she didn’t want to see. “The press wants to know who will be lead counsel on this case.”
Probably Beverly Garfield. But she didn’t want to make a public announcement before they’d discussed it. “They can find out as the rest of the world does. When someone shows up at the arraignment.”
“Your campaign manager wants you to speak at the local Rotary Club.”
“Not this week.”
“You are going to have to make some public appearances.”
“Tell me something I don’t know. Anything else?”
He smiled slightly. “Your daughter wants to know when you’ll be home. She wants to make cupcakes.”
Thank you for reminding me I have a private life. “I don’t know when I’ll be home. Frida watches Esperanza after school.” Jazlyn adopted ten-year-old Esperanza about a year ago, after a little urging from current murder defendant Daniel Pike. Smartest thing she ever did. “But I’m okay on the cupcakes. Tell her to start without me. She doesn’t need my help.”
Logan clicked his tongue. “She doesn’t need your help. She wants your help.”
“I know.” She pondered a moment. “Tell her I’ll be home as soon as I can. I’ll text her. Anything else?”
“Yup. Someone outside to see you.”
“Tell them—”
“It’s Maria Morales.”
Of course it was. Surprising Maria hadn’t been by sooner. But she probably had a lot on her plate as well. “Okay. Send her in. Hold the calls.”
She flopped down in the chair behind her desk. Why hadn’t she beceome a librarian like her mother suggested?
* * *
Maria entered tentatively. “Jazlyn?”
The assistant district attorney pushed herself to her feet. “Maria. So good to see you.” She reached out her arms.
Maria raised a hand. “Just so you know, I’m definitely representing Dan. The whole firm is behind him.”
“Does that mean we can’t hug?”
“Only if the cameras aren’t rolling.” They embraced for a brief moment. “I know this puts you in a difficult situation.”
“I’m not handling the case myself.”
“Beverly Garfield?”
“She is the senior death-qualified attorney in the office.”
Maria winced when she heard “death-qualified” spoken out loud. “I figured as much.”
“It’s necessary. Dan and I are personal friends. For that matter, it may not be common knowledge, but we actually went out on a date once.”
Maria arched an eyebrow. Neither of them had ever mentioned that to her before.
“Don’t be alarmed. It didn’t go far. Hard as he tried. But my point is, if I handled this case, someone would scream that I’m not objective. Or worse, someone might claim it was a vendetta, since Dan has shellacked me in court so many times. Best I stay out of it this time.”
“But you will supervise the case. Oversee it.”
“No way around that. Like it or not, I seem to be the head of the office. Earlier than I expected.”
“Thank God for that. I know I can trust you to block...anyone trying to manipulate the process for their own ends.”
“Of course. Look, Maria, I don’t believe for a minute that Dan would murder someone. But there’s more than enough evidence to proceed. My hands are tied.”
“I get it. So long as the playing field is level, we can beat these charges. I’m confident.”
The concern in Jazlyn’s eyes was evident. “I hope you’re right.”
Death-qualified. Death-qualified. She couldn’t make that stop ringing in her ears. “What can you tell me about the murder? I don’t know much.”
“You’ve heard the audio recording?”
“Of course. Any idea where it came from?”
“Not yet. The sender was careful. Used a burner email account and the message was forwarded repeatedly through accounts and clouds. Even if we manage to trace it back to its source, it will probably be some random library or coffeeshop. Nothing that could be traced back to the actual sender.”
“What’s the time of death?”
“Haven’t heard yet. Medical examiner says the murder took place well before the body was found. After he finishes the autopsy, analyzes the stomach contents, and performs a tox screen, he’ll be able to tell us more.”
“Can you send me a copy of that when it comes in?”
Jazlyn tilted her head, her mouth stretched in a pained expression. “Eeeeh...”
“Right. No special treatment. I’ll make the appropriate disclosure requests.”
“Thank you. So much.”
“What can you tell me about the murder? Without getting into any trouble?”
Jazlyn shrugged. “Here’s what will be in the papers tomorrow. We received an anonymous call from a random cellphone. Probably a burner. Untraceable. The call sent two officers to the alley behind Beachcombers.”
“Can you get me in to view the crime scene?”
Jazlyn’s lip curled slightly. “If that’s what you want. Let me warn you. You won’t enjoy it.”
“I have no choice. Why was Belasco in that alley?”
“No idea. Mayoral candidates don’t normally hang out in sleazy bars. But he had all but retired to run his campaign. He was leaving the office at five most days. Sometimes earlier.”
“And Belasco was shot six times?”
Jazlyn drew in her breath, then slowly released it. “And that wasn’t the worst of it. His body was...impaled.”
Maria felt the blood drain from her face. “With what?”
“Some kind of trident-like stake.”
“He was...staked? Like a vampire?”
“Pinioned against the back fence and left hanging. Like a sick scarecrow.”
Maria swallowed. “Someone was seriously out to get Belasco.”
“Yes.”
“But Belasco must’ve had many enemies. Think of all the lowlifes he put behind bars. This could be retaliation from a Southside gang. Or a drug cartel.”
“Hard to imagine.”
“What about Sweeney? There’s nothing he couldn’t make happen.”
“But Belasco and Sweeney were pals.”
“Sweeney doesn’t have pals. Only tools.”
“Sweeney contributed to Belasco’s campaign in a big way.”
“What better way to hone a tool?”
“Then why kill him?”
“To frame someone. Make it look like a calculated, cold-blooded killing by someone who hated Belasco.”
“Like Dan? How do you explain away the audio recording?”
“Which was emailed shortly after an anonymous call sent you to the crime scene. The perfect frame.”
“The police don’t see it as a perfect frame. More like a perfect crime.”
“I need to find a way to change their minds.” Maria pushed herself out of her chair. “Thanks for your help, Jazlyn. I appreciate it. Dan will, too.”
Jazlyn grabbed her hand. “Tell Dan...I’m thinking about him.” She peered into Maria’s eyes. “Find the answers, Maria. You’re all that stands between Dan and...the worst fate imaginable. I can’t help him here. This time around, it all depends on you.”
Chapter 8
Dan clutched his side and tried not to let the pain show. Those punches to the gut were getting worse, not better. He needed to see a doctor. And he would. But at the moment, other matters took priority.
He sat on a bench outside the large courtroom on the second floor sporting silver shackles between his wrists and ankles. One of the marshals who escorted him from the jailhouse stood to the side. They had to let him talk to his lawyer privately, but they stayed close enough to grab him if he tried to make a break for it.
Everything about the St. Pete county courthouse needed renovation, but these pews were ridiculously uncomfortable. He supposed he shouldn’t complain. It was better than being in the jailhouse, where an old foe was determined to see him dead.
Of course, if he didn’t beat these murder charges, he still might end up dead.
Maria scurried around the corner, a briefcase in one hand, papers clutched in the other. “Okay, I got everything filed. I think it might help.”
He shrugged. “What have you learned about the judge?”
“Carmen Hembeck. White. Conservative. Well-to-do family in Tampa. U of F grad. Practiced solo for seven years, then ran for the judgeship. Lost the first time but was later appointed. Has been considered for the federal judiciary by the Trump administration, but it hasn’t happened yet.”
“If she’s still in the running, she’ll want to demonstrate how conservative she can be. Especially during a high-profile case.”
“We can’t help that.”
“I’ve seen her name in other crime files...”
“It’s time. Are you ready to go in?”
“You can’t get them to remove the shackles?”
“Not for this. No jury to prejudice. As far they’re concerned, you’re a dangerous marauder.”
“Wonderful. Let’s go.”
“One reminder. You are not the lawyer today. So keep your mouth shut, except for the part where you say, ‘Not guilty.’”
“Understood. I am a professional.”
“Yeah, a professional control freak who thinks any argument would be improved by his input.”
“I will be meek as a lamb.”
She rose. “Remember that you said that.”
“Unless, of course, the situation requires—”
“Be quiet.”
* * *
The moment he entered the courtroom, Dan could see that this case had attracted an extraordinary amount of interest in a short period of time. Normally, there wouldn’t be three people in the gallery for an arraignment docket. Today, half the seats were taken. He spotted people craning their necks, staring at him. He was accustomed to attracting attention, but in an amusing, eccentric way, not in a cold-blooded killer way. In one fell swoop, he’d been transformed from one of the most prominent members of the community to one of the most despised.
Some of the people in the gallery appeared to be reporters, with a few elderly citizens who probably used the courthouse as a substitute for television, increasingly common these days as many retirees couldn’t afford or understand the vast panoply of streaming services. A few scruffy sorts were likely homeless, getting out of the heat and enjoying the air conditioning for a little while.
What interested him most was the woman sitting on the front row of the gallery, on the prosecution side. Unless he was mistaken, that was Evelyn Belasco, the wife, now widow, of George Belasco. He’d met her years ago at a bar association function.
He gave her a close inspection. Dressed in black, natch. Sparkly brooch at the neck. Red puffy face. Coach bag. Gucci shoes.
The lanky young man beside her was likely her son. Christopher, if he recalled correctly. Dark blue sneakers. Blue polo. Nick on his left cheek. Face was a little raw, as if he’d recently removed a beard.
The expressions on their faces suggested they wouldn’t welcome a word of condolence from the defendant. He averted his gaze. Maria guided him toward their table, as if he actually needed directions.
Two reps from the prosecutor’s office sat at the opposite table. They looked nervous, or so he liked to believe. He knew them both. Beverly Garfield and Zachary Blunt. Garfield was a small woman, short and a bit plump. String of pearls. Phi Beta Kappa pin. Dark stain on her right forefinger.
Her partner, Blunt, was known around the office as “the Knife.” Dan didn’t know exactly why, but it didn’t sound promising. He was almost anemically skinny, the kind of guy who made you want to shove a cheeseburger down his throat. Protruding Adam’s apple. Mole beneath his chin. Nice suit. Black alligator briefcase that looked like it came from Thom Browne.
About five minutes later, Judge Hembeck entered the courtroom. Mid-forties. Light brown complexion. A bit too much lipstick, or too dark. Broad shoulders, looked strong. Judge robe fit her like it had been tailored.
The judge’s clerk called the docket. As it happened, they were the only case on the agenda. He doubted that was an accident. The judge knew how much attention this case would attract, so she gave it a private setting.
The judge read the style, made sure both sides were represented by counsel, and allowed them to enter their appearances. “Ms. Garfield, do the People wish to press these charges against the defendant at this time?”
Garfield rose. “We do, your honor. And we wish to inform the court that we intend to pursue the death penalty. We are in the process of assembling a grand jury to render a capital indictment.”
“Understood.” So far, the judge’s manner seemed completely neutral, matter-of-fact. “Daniel Douglas Pike. How do you plead?”
Maria rose with him. “Not guilty, your honor. Very much completely one-hundred-and-ten percent not guilty.”
Chapter 9
To Dan’s disappointment, Judge Hembeck didn’t even crack a smile. “Your plea will be so entered. The defendant will be remanded back into custody pending the next hearing.”
“About that,” Maria said, cutting in. “We request that the defendant be released on bail at this time. We have filed the appropriate motion.”
Garfield rose, but did not yet speak.
“A bit premature, isn’t it, counsel?” The judge pursed her lips, but he suspected she wasn’t all that surprised. She’d seen the motion, presumably. “We usually take this up later. After the dust has settled.”
“I know, your honor. But this is not the typical case, as this heavily populated courtroom makes clear.”
Judge Hembeck tilted her head. “Proceed.”
“In this case, your honor, the defendant is an officer of the court. A well-respected officer of the court.”
Hembeck nodded. “I am aware.”
“That alone speaks to his unlikeliness to flee. He has a pre-existing relationship with and respect for the court. He’s a member of the bar.”
Hembeck looked down at her papers. “You want me to offer bail in a murder case because the defendant is a lawyer? That’s not going to happen.”
“My client is more than happy to submit to monitoring, electronic or otherwise. He will wear an ankle bracelet so the court can track his movements at all times. He will appear in person as often as the court requires. And he will meet any bail the court deems appropriate. Why burden the taxpayer for no reason? He will appear for trial. He looks forward to defending himself against these false charges. There is no reason to make him languish behind bars.”
“About what?”
“That whole rant.”
She tried not to be annoyed. “Can you be more specific?”
“Dan was not the target. I was.”
“How do you figure?”
“It’s obvious. But your affection for Dan blinds you.”
“Dan and I are partners. Period.”
“Yes, yes, I know. But that does not mean you don’t feel stirrings inside when he is near.”
“I don’t, actually.”
“You are correct when you say law enforcement has no affection for Dan, or any other defense attorney. But there is something else they hate even worse. A female boss.”
“I’m sure there’s a lot of sexism...”
“And what do they hate even worse than a female boss? A Latinx female boss.”
“A lot of the men on the force are—”
“The men, yes. That’s the key word. And what could possibly make their hatred and resentment even worse? A female Latinx boss who is very pretty. Who they will never get close to.”
Maria chose her words carefully. “It’s possible you’re...personalizing this to an excessive degree. Remember, they didn’t bug your home. They bugged Dan’s boat.”
“Because they knew I would be there. For all we know, they bugged my home as well.”
“Sweeney wants Dan eliminated.”
“He has also expressed his antipathy toward me. On several occasions.”
This was fruitless. And turning into a competition to prove who was most despised. “I suppose it doesn’t matter. The bottom line is, you’re both in jail now and you’re both going up on murder charges.”
“Do you know when the murder is believed to have taken place?”
“Not precisely. Why?”
“I was in my office working late that day. I came to your celebration party late, remember? And then I accompanied Dan to his boat. Depending on the timing, I may have an alibi. For that matter, Dan may as well.”
Maria hoped that was true. But she also knew that Dan had disappeared for several hours between the courtroom finale and the party. “I’ll check it out.” She caught herself. “And whatever I learn, I will convey to your attorney, as soon as I know who that will be.”
“I will arrange counsel today. I would rather be represented by the best firm in the city...but since you refuse me, I will go elsewhere.”
Hoo boy. “We will not leave you dangling in the wind.”
Camila gave her a stony glare. “It appears to me that you already have.”
Chapter 7
Jazlyn tried to keep her head above the chaos, but it wasn’t easy. Since she had been the lead assistant district attorney, and the actual district attorney was dead, everyone assumed she was in charge. She wasn’t sure if there was any legal basis for that. She hadn’t been elected and there was no precedent for this in Pinellas County. But like it or not, she did appear to be in charge. Her first order of business? A criminal prosecution targeting a man she considered a close friend and the mayor of the city.
As if that weren’t enough, she was in the middle of her own campaign for district attorney. Some said that election was now a foregone conclusion, but she wasn’t so sure. As soon as someone got a whiff of weakness, maybe someone who thought she wasn’t handling this high-profile case properly, they might be eager to take a shot at a regular government paycheck.
Her assistant, Logan Pierce, entered her office. “Are you ready for messages?”
Jazlyn pressed a hand against her forehead. “Are there many?”
“About four thousand and twelve. But I can prioritize.” Logan was a legal assistant and they’d worked together for years, so she tended to trust him. He was smart, skinny, and an excellent dresser, but most importantly, he knew how to get rid of people she didn’t want to see. “The press wants to know who will be lead counsel on this case.”
Probably Beverly Garfield. But she didn’t want to make a public announcement before they’d discussed it. “They can find out as the rest of the world does. When someone shows up at the arraignment.”
“Your campaign manager wants you to speak at the local Rotary Club.”
“Not this week.”
“You are going to have to make some public appearances.”
“Tell me something I don’t know. Anything else?”
He smiled slightly. “Your daughter wants to know when you’ll be home. She wants to make cupcakes.”
Thank you for reminding me I have a private life. “I don’t know when I’ll be home. Frida watches Esperanza after school.” Jazlyn adopted ten-year-old Esperanza about a year ago, after a little urging from current murder defendant Daniel Pike. Smartest thing she ever did. “But I’m okay on the cupcakes. Tell her to start without me. She doesn’t need my help.”
Logan clicked his tongue. “She doesn’t need your help. She wants your help.”
“I know.” She pondered a moment. “Tell her I’ll be home as soon as I can. I’ll text her. Anything else?”
“Yup. Someone outside to see you.”
“Tell them—”
“It’s Maria Morales.”
Of course it was. Surprising Maria hadn’t been by sooner. But she probably had a lot on her plate as well. “Okay. Send her in. Hold the calls.”
She flopped down in the chair behind her desk. Why hadn’t she beceome a librarian like her mother suggested?
* * *
Maria entered tentatively. “Jazlyn?”
The assistant district attorney pushed herself to her feet. “Maria. So good to see you.” She reached out her arms.
Maria raised a hand. “Just so you know, I’m definitely representing Dan. The whole firm is behind him.”
“Does that mean we can’t hug?”
“Only if the cameras aren’t rolling.” They embraced for a brief moment. “I know this puts you in a difficult situation.”
“I’m not handling the case myself.”
“Beverly Garfield?”
“She is the senior death-qualified attorney in the office.”
Maria winced when she heard “death-qualified” spoken out loud. “I figured as much.”
“It’s necessary. Dan and I are personal friends. For that matter, it may not be common knowledge, but we actually went out on a date once.”
Maria arched an eyebrow. Neither of them had ever mentioned that to her before.
“Don’t be alarmed. It didn’t go far. Hard as he tried. But my point is, if I handled this case, someone would scream that I’m not objective. Or worse, someone might claim it was a vendetta, since Dan has shellacked me in court so many times. Best I stay out of it this time.”
“But you will supervise the case. Oversee it.”
“No way around that. Like it or not, I seem to be the head of the office. Earlier than I expected.”
“Thank God for that. I know I can trust you to block...anyone trying to manipulate the process for their own ends.”
“Of course. Look, Maria, I don’t believe for a minute that Dan would murder someone. But there’s more than enough evidence to proceed. My hands are tied.”
“I get it. So long as the playing field is level, we can beat these charges. I’m confident.”
The concern in Jazlyn’s eyes was evident. “I hope you’re right.”
Death-qualified. Death-qualified. She couldn’t make that stop ringing in her ears. “What can you tell me about the murder? I don’t know much.”
“You’ve heard the audio recording?”
“Of course. Any idea where it came from?”
“Not yet. The sender was careful. Used a burner email account and the message was forwarded repeatedly through accounts and clouds. Even if we manage to trace it back to its source, it will probably be some random library or coffeeshop. Nothing that could be traced back to the actual sender.”
“What’s the time of death?”
“Haven’t heard yet. Medical examiner says the murder took place well before the body was found. After he finishes the autopsy, analyzes the stomach contents, and performs a tox screen, he’ll be able to tell us more.”
“Can you send me a copy of that when it comes in?”
Jazlyn tilted her head, her mouth stretched in a pained expression. “Eeeeh...”
“Right. No special treatment. I’ll make the appropriate disclosure requests.”
“Thank you. So much.”
“What can you tell me about the murder? Without getting into any trouble?”
Jazlyn shrugged. “Here’s what will be in the papers tomorrow. We received an anonymous call from a random cellphone. Probably a burner. Untraceable. The call sent two officers to the alley behind Beachcombers.”
“Can you get me in to view the crime scene?”
Jazlyn’s lip curled slightly. “If that’s what you want. Let me warn you. You won’t enjoy it.”
“I have no choice. Why was Belasco in that alley?”
“No idea. Mayoral candidates don’t normally hang out in sleazy bars. But he had all but retired to run his campaign. He was leaving the office at five most days. Sometimes earlier.”
“And Belasco was shot six times?”
Jazlyn drew in her breath, then slowly released it. “And that wasn’t the worst of it. His body was...impaled.”
Maria felt the blood drain from her face. “With what?”
“Some kind of trident-like stake.”
“He was...staked? Like a vampire?”
“Pinioned against the back fence and left hanging. Like a sick scarecrow.”
Maria swallowed. “Someone was seriously out to get Belasco.”
“Yes.”
“But Belasco must’ve had many enemies. Think of all the lowlifes he put behind bars. This could be retaliation from a Southside gang. Or a drug cartel.”
“Hard to imagine.”
“What about Sweeney? There’s nothing he couldn’t make happen.”
“But Belasco and Sweeney were pals.”
“Sweeney doesn’t have pals. Only tools.”
“Sweeney contributed to Belasco’s campaign in a big way.”
“What better way to hone a tool?”
“Then why kill him?”
“To frame someone. Make it look like a calculated, cold-blooded killing by someone who hated Belasco.”
“Like Dan? How do you explain away the audio recording?”
“Which was emailed shortly after an anonymous call sent you to the crime scene. The perfect frame.”
“The police don’t see it as a perfect frame. More like a perfect crime.”
“I need to find a way to change their minds.” Maria pushed herself out of her chair. “Thanks for your help, Jazlyn. I appreciate it. Dan will, too.”
Jazlyn grabbed her hand. “Tell Dan...I’m thinking about him.” She peered into Maria’s eyes. “Find the answers, Maria. You’re all that stands between Dan and...the worst fate imaginable. I can’t help him here. This time around, it all depends on you.”
Chapter 8
Dan clutched his side and tried not to let the pain show. Those punches to the gut were getting worse, not better. He needed to see a doctor. And he would. But at the moment, other matters took priority.
He sat on a bench outside the large courtroom on the second floor sporting silver shackles between his wrists and ankles. One of the marshals who escorted him from the jailhouse stood to the side. They had to let him talk to his lawyer privately, but they stayed close enough to grab him if he tried to make a break for it.
Everything about the St. Pete county courthouse needed renovation, but these pews were ridiculously uncomfortable. He supposed he shouldn’t complain. It was better than being in the jailhouse, where an old foe was determined to see him dead.
Of course, if he didn’t beat these murder charges, he still might end up dead.
Maria scurried around the corner, a briefcase in one hand, papers clutched in the other. “Okay, I got everything filed. I think it might help.”
He shrugged. “What have you learned about the judge?”
“Carmen Hembeck. White. Conservative. Well-to-do family in Tampa. U of F grad. Practiced solo for seven years, then ran for the judgeship. Lost the first time but was later appointed. Has been considered for the federal judiciary by the Trump administration, but it hasn’t happened yet.”
“If she’s still in the running, she’ll want to demonstrate how conservative she can be. Especially during a high-profile case.”
“We can’t help that.”
“I’ve seen her name in other crime files...”
“It’s time. Are you ready to go in?”
“You can’t get them to remove the shackles?”
“Not for this. No jury to prejudice. As far they’re concerned, you’re a dangerous marauder.”
“Wonderful. Let’s go.”
“One reminder. You are not the lawyer today. So keep your mouth shut, except for the part where you say, ‘Not guilty.’”
“Understood. I am a professional.”
“Yeah, a professional control freak who thinks any argument would be improved by his input.”
“I will be meek as a lamb.”
She rose. “Remember that you said that.”
“Unless, of course, the situation requires—”
“Be quiet.”
* * *
The moment he entered the courtroom, Dan could see that this case had attracted an extraordinary amount of interest in a short period of time. Normally, there wouldn’t be three people in the gallery for an arraignment docket. Today, half the seats were taken. He spotted people craning their necks, staring at him. He was accustomed to attracting attention, but in an amusing, eccentric way, not in a cold-blooded killer way. In one fell swoop, he’d been transformed from one of the most prominent members of the community to one of the most despised.
Some of the people in the gallery appeared to be reporters, with a few elderly citizens who probably used the courthouse as a substitute for television, increasingly common these days as many retirees couldn’t afford or understand the vast panoply of streaming services. A few scruffy sorts were likely homeless, getting out of the heat and enjoying the air conditioning for a little while.
What interested him most was the woman sitting on the front row of the gallery, on the prosecution side. Unless he was mistaken, that was Evelyn Belasco, the wife, now widow, of George Belasco. He’d met her years ago at a bar association function.
He gave her a close inspection. Dressed in black, natch. Sparkly brooch at the neck. Red puffy face. Coach bag. Gucci shoes.
The lanky young man beside her was likely her son. Christopher, if he recalled correctly. Dark blue sneakers. Blue polo. Nick on his left cheek. Face was a little raw, as if he’d recently removed a beard.
The expressions on their faces suggested they wouldn’t welcome a word of condolence from the defendant. He averted his gaze. Maria guided him toward their table, as if he actually needed directions.
Two reps from the prosecutor’s office sat at the opposite table. They looked nervous, or so he liked to believe. He knew them both. Beverly Garfield and Zachary Blunt. Garfield was a small woman, short and a bit plump. String of pearls. Phi Beta Kappa pin. Dark stain on her right forefinger.
Her partner, Blunt, was known around the office as “the Knife.” Dan didn’t know exactly why, but it didn’t sound promising. He was almost anemically skinny, the kind of guy who made you want to shove a cheeseburger down his throat. Protruding Adam’s apple. Mole beneath his chin. Nice suit. Black alligator briefcase that looked like it came from Thom Browne.
About five minutes later, Judge Hembeck entered the courtroom. Mid-forties. Light brown complexion. A bit too much lipstick, or too dark. Broad shoulders, looked strong. Judge robe fit her like it had been tailored.
The judge’s clerk called the docket. As it happened, they were the only case on the agenda. He doubted that was an accident. The judge knew how much attention this case would attract, so she gave it a private setting.
The judge read the style, made sure both sides were represented by counsel, and allowed them to enter their appearances. “Ms. Garfield, do the People wish to press these charges against the defendant at this time?”
Garfield rose. “We do, your honor. And we wish to inform the court that we intend to pursue the death penalty. We are in the process of assembling a grand jury to render a capital indictment.”
“Understood.” So far, the judge’s manner seemed completely neutral, matter-of-fact. “Daniel Douglas Pike. How do you plead?”
Maria rose with him. “Not guilty, your honor. Very much completely one-hundred-and-ten percent not guilty.”
Chapter 9
To Dan’s disappointment, Judge Hembeck didn’t even crack a smile. “Your plea will be so entered. The defendant will be remanded back into custody pending the next hearing.”
“About that,” Maria said, cutting in. “We request that the defendant be released on bail at this time. We have filed the appropriate motion.”
Garfield rose, but did not yet speak.
“A bit premature, isn’t it, counsel?” The judge pursed her lips, but he suspected she wasn’t all that surprised. She’d seen the motion, presumably. “We usually take this up later. After the dust has settled.”
“I know, your honor. But this is not the typical case, as this heavily populated courtroom makes clear.”
Judge Hembeck tilted her head. “Proceed.”
“In this case, your honor, the defendant is an officer of the court. A well-respected officer of the court.”
Hembeck nodded. “I am aware.”
“That alone speaks to his unlikeliness to flee. He has a pre-existing relationship with and respect for the court. He’s a member of the bar.”
Hembeck looked down at her papers. “You want me to offer bail in a murder case because the defendant is a lawyer? That’s not going to happen.”
“My client is more than happy to submit to monitoring, electronic or otherwise. He will wear an ankle bracelet so the court can track his movements at all times. He will appear in person as often as the court requires. And he will meet any bail the court deems appropriate. Why burden the taxpayer for no reason? He will appear for trial. He looks forward to defending himself against these false charges. There is no reason to make him languish behind bars.”
