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Authors: Garret Holms

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55
Babbage

R
eynolds and Babbage
met over the lunch hour. “Fields needs to learn who’s really in charge,” Reynolds said. They were alone in her office, going over the testimony so far and planning for the afternoon. She’d told Fitzgerald to disappear—said if she needed him, she’d call.

Most of the other DAs were out.

Reynolds continued complaining about Fields. Babbage listened but said nothing. If she wanted him to comment, she could ask. For his part, Babbage was furious. Were it not for his immunity, and based upon what she’d let in, he’d be fired from the department. How could Reynolds have fucked up so badly? Her job was to convict and destroy Hart, but it looked more like Babbage was on trial! She couldn’t control Jordan, and Babbage didn’t understand why Reynolds deliberately pissed off the judge. It just didn’t make sense.

“Your testimony today was acceptable, Jake. But you showed a little too much anger.” She got up, walked around her desk, and sat in a chair next to him. She smiled, and her eyes glittered. She patted his leg just above his knee. “Stay calm,” she said softly. “Jordan was purposely trying to get you upset today. Just let me do my job.”

She crossed her legs, and her short skirt hiked to the middle of her thighs. He could smell her perfume mixed with perspiration. She was old, but her tits weren’t bad, and he could see her nipples pressing against her silk blouse. She was acting like one of his projects.

He put the thought out of his mind—he needed her to win the case
.
Too bad. He’d enjoy making her suffer.

Almost as an afterthought, Reynolds said, “I don’t have the DNA results yet. They’re due today. If they’re positive for Hart, that’ll remove any doubt about the case and provide the corroboration we need. Without them—”

“What are you talking about?” Babbage almost grabbed her. The jury had to see through Jordan, he thought. She was a typical defense lawyer, trying to make a big shit deal out of meaningless details.

“I’ve been pushing to get the results,” Reynolds said. “They say they’ll have them any minute. I’ve told them to pull out all stops and to be in court today with the results, or else. They’d better be positive for Hart.”

“Or what?” He leaned forward, his voice filled with contempt.

“In some cases,” Reynolds replied evenly “and I’m certain it doesn’t apply here—in some cases, you can’t convict on eyewitness testimony unless there’s corroboration. It’s the accomplice rule.”

Babbage noticed a foul taste in his mouth and suppressed the urge to spit in her face. Had he been wrong to trust his fate to this prosecution bitch? “Are you saying,” he spoke slowly, clearly—he wanted to get this straight—“that my testimony means nothing unless there’s outside proof?”

“Not as far as I’m concerned, but Fields is the wild card. He was wrong not to force Sean Collins to testify about Hart’s statements. There must be a way to get Fields to reconsider. I’d bet my life Hart said something to Collins we could use as corroboration—something that would clinch the case.”

That’s a bet he’d take. He sprang to his feet. “I’ll take care of that problem.” The shit-lawyer had wanted to talk to him—the time had come to have that meeting.

Reynolds grabbed his arm. “Where are you going?”

“I said I’d take care of the Sean Collins problem.”

“Hold on,” Reynolds said, not letting go of Babbage’s arm. “I don’t want you trying to talk to him.”

Babbage removed her hand from his elbow. “Make up your mind. I’ve put my career on the line for you, and I’m not about to see it go into the crapper over some legal detail.”

“Jake, I don’t think you understand.” She looked him in the eye. “It would be a disaster for you to speak to Collins. Especially while you’re being cross-examined and subject to Jordan questioning you about it. It would give her the chance to claim you’re arm-twisting Collins, and to tell the jury he’s the victim’s son and part of the defense team—all the things we’ve fought to keep out.”

Babbage glared. So far her opinion hadn’t been worth shit. “I’ll wait for now on Collins, but if he’s standing in the way, don’t expect me to sit back and do nothing.”

Reynolds considered. “I think we need to ratchet up the pressure on Fields. Let’s show him who he’s up against. Can you get some cops in the courtroom?”

“I’ll call my lieutenant.”

“Good. When we finish our case, Jordan will undoubtedly make a motion to dismiss—that’s when we’ll need the show of support. Fields is weak …”—she took his arm again and added—“but he’s not stupid. In order for the corroboration rule to apply, the defense must prove you’re an accomplice, and I don’t think they can.”

She returned to her desk and opened the case file folder. “Now, let’s go over this afternoon’s testimony.”

56
Sean
1:30 p.m.

W
hen Sean entered the courtroom
, he noticed a balding Asian man, immaculately dressed in a dark blue suit, sitting in the front row of the spectator section. He pointed him out to Amanda, and the two of them walked over to Reynolds, who was sitting at the counsel table with Babbage. She was reading her file and appeared not to notice them standing next to her.

“Is that your witness, Doris?” Amanda asked.

“Don’t you know?” Her smug smile triggered a deep rage with Sean.
Can’t she show some fucking respect?

“Stop playing games, Doris,” Amanda said.

Reynolds smiled. “He’s Arthur Woo, from Biotech Markers, Inc.”

“Have you forgotten your obligation to disclose the results to me, Doris?”

“No. You’ll find out soon enough.” She looked down again at her file.

Before Amanda could respond, the jurors entered the jury box. Fields entered and Powell, the bailiff, called the courtroom to order.

“Request to approach at sidebar, Your Honor,” Jordan said.

When the three lawyers were at sidebar, Jordan spoke. “Ms. Reynolds told me that she has a criminalist, Arthur Woo, here in the courtroom, to testify about the DNA results.”

“That’s correct,” Reynolds said.

“But she won’t disclose the results,” Jordan said.

“That’s also correct.”

Judge Fields took a breath and sighed. “And why not, Ms. Reynolds?”

“Because, Judge, the results aren’t in yet. They’re being messengered over, and when they get here, I’ll share them with the defense.”

“Surely you know at least preliminarily what they are, don’t you?” Judge Fields asked.

“I know there’s a match, but so far I’m not sure for whom.”

“Your Honor, this is nonsense,” Jordan said. “I want permission to interrupt Babbage’s testimony and question Mr. Woo about the results.”

“I object,” Reynolds said. “I haven’t even decided whether I’m going to call this witness. If and when I decide, Counsel can question him then. Otherwise, the defense can wait and call him as their witness after the prosecution rests.”

Fields considered, then looked at Jordan. “At this time, I’m denying your request to question this witness. I must take Ms. Reynolds’s representations as true. After all, she is a prosecutor and officer of the court. The sidebar is over.”

They returned and Sean took his seat while Jordan went to the podium.
This DNA issue was very unsettling,
Sean thought. The morning had gone well, but Sean worried what this afternoon might bring. Yet, all told, he was satisfied—Jordan was a master at cross-examination, and Sean had learned a lot. But Babbage’s testimony was taking a toll on Sean, opening wounds he thought were long scarred over.

No matter how much Sean tried telling himself it was just evidence, he couldn’t escape the images—the suffering, the humiliation, the brutality. Try as he might, he couldn’t entirely dismiss the fact that Hart could have saved his mom that night.

Jordan looked down at her notes, then looked at Babbage.

“Let’s go back to your story—the time between when you left my client alone and when you claim you were struck on the head with a rock. You say you left my client so you could go off to a secluded place and have sex? Correct?”

Babbage agreed, saying that Sarah and he took a path through trees, overgrown weeds, and shrubbery, far away from the shore of the reservoir.

“This is the location where you claim you were hit on your head with a rock, where you say you awoke, bound to a tree?”

Babbage replied that he didn’t know what kind of object he was hit with, but agreed it could have been a rock, and yes, when he awoke he was bound with duct tape, but was able to clearly observe Hart and the victim.

A dark-haired woman who Sean estimated to be in her early twenties entered the courtroom and handed two large manila envelopes to Arthur Woo.

“May I have a moment, Your Honor?” Jordan said.

“You may.”

Jordan walked back to Woo, and the two conferred in low whispers that Sean could not hear. Jordan took both envelopes and returned to the counsel table, passing one envelope to Reynolds. Both lawyers opened them and examined the contents, a single document.

One or two of the jurors whispered quietly.

Sean looked at Jordan’s face but it was impossible to read. He could feel his stomach flip-flop. Jordan held the one-page report in her hands, continuing to study it. Sean could hear the jurors stirring, feel the energy in the room.

Holding the report in front of her, Jordan said, “There’s no doubt you saw Sarah Collins perform oral sex on my client.”

Reynolds eyed Jordan and looked like a cat ready to pounce.

Babbage leaned forward, his eyes glued to the document in Jordan’s hands. “That’s right,” he said slowly.

“And no doubt that you saw Sarah Collins gag after performing the act, and then spit. Correct?”

“That’s what I saw.” Babbage frowned—something was about to happen, and he was powerless to stop it.

“You’re certain?”

“Yes,” Babbage said, squirming.

“Beyond any doubt?”

“Right.”

Sean realized the courtroom had become so quiet he thought he could hear his heart beating. He could certainly feel it.

Jordan looked down at the document, then at Babbage. “Perhaps,” she said, “you can explain this. Explain why the semen sample taken from Sarah Collins’s mouth”—Jordan threw the Biotech Markers report down on the podium—“was positive for you and
negative
for Daniel Hart?”

Doris Reynolds was on her feet, shouting. “Objection! Request to approach the bench!”

Judge Fields assented, and the lawyers assembled at sidebar.

J
udge Fields let
out an exasperated sigh. “All right, Ms. Reynolds, you may argue your objection.”

“Judge, in all my years as a prosecutor, I have never seen such appalling misconduct. The People move for a mistrial. In addition, I ask that the court hold Ms. Jordan in contempt.”

Fields looked at Jordan. “Explain yourself, please.”

Jordan handed the report to Fields. “Your Honor, I’m handing to the court the report from Biotech Markers, Inc. and ask that it be marked as Defense Exhibit A. Ms. Reynolds already has her copy. It contains the results of the DNA comparison of the semen to my client’s blood sample and to Mr. Babbage’s. As you will see, the sample is indeed positive for Mr. Babbage and negative for Mr. Hart.”

“That’s beside the point,” Reynolds blurted. “There’s been no foundation established, so there’s no way Counsel can mention this to a jury, and she knows it. It’s clearly misconduct.”

Jordan responded. “I agree with the prosecution that I should not have mentioned it, Your Honor, but it simply came out in cross-examination. If the court wishes, we can interrupt Mr. Babbage’s testimony, and I can put on the expert, Doctor Woo, who’s in the courtroom, to establish a foundation.”

“I object to that, Judge,” Reynolds insisted. “This can only be remedied by a mistrial. The court must do something to correct Ms. Jordan’s contemptible conduct.”

For once, Fields worried Reynolds might be right. Jordan should have known better than to mention the results before getting court permission.

“I might add,” Jordan said, “that Doctor Woo is not my expert, but the People’s. He’s a director from Biotech Markers, the lab that the prosecution used to analyze the results and make the comparison.”

Judge Fields faced a dilemma. The jury had heard the results, which was not proper. But it also appeared that Jordan would have no problem establishing the foundation during the defense part of the case. On the other hand, if Fields granted the prosecution’s request for a mistrial, then an appellate court would probably rule that double jeopardy precluded retrial, because once a jury had been impaneled, jeopardy attached. Only the defense could request a mistrial without invoking double jeopardy.

Finally Fields spoke. “Ms. Jordan, there’s no excuse for what you did. I expect more from a lawyer of your reputation.” Fields then looked at Reynolds. “Your motion for a mistrial is denied.”

“But Judge —”

“Hold on,” Fields said. “Ms. Jordan, based upon your representation that you will have no problem establishing a foundation for this evidence, I will allow it, and admonish the jury that the results are being offered conditionally, subject to a proper basis being established during the defense case—”

“No!” Reynolds interrupted. “You can’t—”

“Ms. Reynolds, I’m not finished.”

Reynolds rolled her eyes.

Fields continued. “I will exercise my discretion under Penal Code Section ten-ninety-four and interrupt Mr. Babbage’s testimony to allow Ms. Jordan to call Doctor Woo to establish a proper foundation. If he can’t, I will reconsider the prosecution’s motion for a mistrial. I will not allow you to benefit from any misconduct, Ms. Jordan. As for the contempt issue, I will overlook it for now. Be warned. Any more misconduct of this type will not be tolerated.”

Reynolds said, “Judge, your ruling is clear error!”

“That’s enough, Ms. Reynolds,” Fields ordered. “Your objection is overruled. Your demeanor in this courtroom is utterly unacceptable. I’m sorry you are disappointed with the court’s rulings—”

“You’re right about that, Judge,” Reynolds said.

“Don’t interrupt. As I was saying, the fact that you are disappointed with the court’s rulings can’t be helped. I have to rule according to what I feel the law to be, and I take that obligation seriously. If you disagree, I still expect you to be respectful in your opposition. If you have an appellate case citation that you’d like me to read to support your position, I’ll be glad to read it. If I believe it shows that I’ve made an error, I’ll change my ruling. Otherwise, I expect you not to make confrontational or rude remarks to the court.”

“Judge, I’m sorry, but that’s my style. You’ll just have to live with it. Otherwise, I’ll have to notify my office that you’re prejudiced against the rights of the People of the State of California, and we’ll move to disqualify you from this case.”

Fields took a deep, determined breath and waited several seconds before speaking. When he did, he spoke deliberately, working to keep any trace of anger out of his voice.

“Ms. Reynolds, I’m only going to say this once, so please listen carefully. Whether you approve of my rulings or not, I’m going to order you to refrain from your confrontational behavior, which clearly constitutes contempt. If you feel you have grounds to disqualify this court, that’s your prerogative. But I will not allow you to engage in intimidation tactics. The next time you display confrontational or rude behavior with the court, you will be sanctioned. If your conduct continues, you can expect to spend the night in the county jail. I have no desire to fine you or to jail you, but if that’s what it takes to get your attention, so be it.”

Reynolds glared. Fields looked back, his eyes meeting hers. For a moment, it seemed that she was going to say something. Then, apparently changing her mind, she looked away. “Very well, Judge,” she said. “But rather than have Doctor Woo testify, since he’s our expert, the People will stipulate to the foundation.”

After all that
, Fields thought,
the woman is stipulating
.
Incredible
.

“The court accepts your stipulation,” Fields said, and then turned to the jury. “We will take our afternoon recess.”

BOOK: Grant of Immunity
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