Sins of the Fathers (38 page)

“Do you have an offer of proof?”

“We have a reluctant witness. My investigator and I interviewed her, but she is unwilling to testify.”

“You have the power of subpoena.”

“She’s too frightened. I think she would deny everything in order to protect herself.”

Lipton sighed and shook his head. “Then on what foundation can I allow you to ask questions?”

“May I offer a citation?”Woodard said.

“By all means,” Judge Lipton said. “It would be nice to have a little law enter the discussion.”

“It has long been held,”Woodard said, “that the defense has wide latitude in the cross-examination of prosecution witnesses in a criminal case. The case is
People v. Ormes
, 1948. It’s one of the cases I use in my class on trial procedure. Further, in the case of
Gallaher v.
Superior Court
, it was stated that a prosecution witness testifies to facts tending to establish guilt, but defense is entitled to cross-examine on all relevant and material matters relating to those facts.”

Judge Lipton turned. “What do you have to say,Mr. Colby?”

“The question is whether her cross-examination is material,” Leon Colby said.“Your Honor asked for an offer of proof, and she does not have one.”

Lindy bristled. She
knew
what she had. “I have given you an offer, Your Honor.”

“No, you haven’t,” the judge said. “You don’t even have a written statement to offer me.”

“Well, that’s just wonderful! Why don’t we let witnesses for the prosecution say whatever they want and make the defense jump through hoops?”

“Ms. Field!”

Lindy stopped.

“I’m going to ignore that as a mark of your zealous representation, which is admirable when it is under control. I will remind you that we have a camera in the courtroom. That’s not supposed to matter, but we all know that it does. Everybody out here in Hollywood Land is waiting for us to make a spectacle of ourselves. We are not going to do it. I’m going to rule that you cannot ask that question, or any question that deals with hypothetical evidence of the defendant’s home life. If you come to me with an offer of proof, I will reconsider. If your client takes the stand and testifies to conditions at home, I will allow you to recall the present witness for a brief cross-examination.”

“But, Your Honor—”

“I’m not interested in discussing this further. Now let’s go back into court and act as if we are really lawyers.”

9.

With the teeth kicked out of Lindy Field’s questioning of Tucker, the rest of the morning was uneventful. But Lindy Field had something. Colby knew her well enough to know that when she said she believed a thing, she really believed it; if she said she had some witness, she was not lying.

So after Tucker’s testimony, Colby requested an early lunch hour. And ordered Larry Lopez to his office.

“Do you know anything about Drake being abusive to Darren?” Colby asked his investigator.

Lopez shook his head.

“Why don’t I believe you?”

“I don’t care if you believe me or not.”

“I think you’re holding back. I want to know why.”

“Lay off, Leon. You got your job to do, I got mine. There’s nothing gonna get this kid off, you know that.”

Yeah, he knew that. He knew it was the ol’ slam dunk. A notch, a victory, another step toward Mahogany Row.

So why didn’t this victory taste sweet?

10.

“I’m going to take a deal from Colby,” said Woodard quietly.

Lindy stepped back from him as if pushed. “You can’t.”

“Listen to me.” He looked at her sternly, not like a professor, but like a parent. “If Colby will offer less than twenty-five years, we need to take it. The case is getting away—”

“But—”

“And the best interest of our client demands the least amount of prison time we can get.”

“We can’t do that.” She tried to keep her voice down. The courtroom was slowly clearing out. Darren had already been removed.

“What do you suggest? Have you been watching the jury? They are not buying insanity, not in the slightest.”

Chill desperation grasped Lindy. “We can’t. I won’t do it.”

“Lindy,” he said softly, “I want you to listen. The worst thing a defense lawyer can do is lose objectivity. That’s what’s happening here. You’re attached to this case in an unhealthy way. You need to step aside and let me make the call.”

“Step aside?”

“Leave it to me—”

“No. I won’t.”

“Lindy—”

“I won’t do it. I won’t sell him out.”

Woodard frowned. “If you think that’s what’s happening, then you truly have lost your ability to serve your client.”

“We have to keep going.”

“It’s not your call, Lindy.”

She looked into his resolute face. “I won’t go along with this.”

“I am the attorney of record, remember?”

Lindy braced herself against the counsel table. “You’d do this over my objection?”

“If I think it’s in Darren’s best interest. That’s the only thing either one of us should be thinking about.”

Her legs felt weak. “Everett, please . . .”

He put his hand on her shoulder. “We’ve got till Monday. Go home and think about it. But think about it like a lawyer. Think about it dispassionately. Will you do that for me?”

She swallowed hard, her nerves starting to feel like frayed wires.

“All right, Everett. Till Monday.”

“Good. Come on, I’ll give you a lift home.”

“Roxy’s meeting me. You go ahead.”

“Get some rest.” He swept up his briefcase and walked out.

Absently, Lindy packed her own briefcase with scattered notes and tried to find the light in this dark scenario. There was none. Woodard was right. The jury was not on their side. Maybe a couple of them, and so maybe they could get a hung jury.

That would only mean doing this all again. But if so, she could buy some time and try to find . . . something, anything that would help.

On the other hand, if this jury returned a guilty verdict, Darren would be slapped with the upper limit of a prison sentence.

There was no light.

Lindy clasped her briefcase shut, turned, and looked into eyes staring directly at her.

It was that woman again, Romney. She was fixed in the center of the courtroom, unmoving.

And Lindy thought, if there’s insanity going on, this woman might be right on the edge.

Lindy looked away and started up the aisle. But she felt the woman’s eyes on her all the way out the door.

EIGHTEEN

1.

“Things aren’t going so good, are they?” Roxy asked.

Lindy closed her eyes. “Everett wants to plead Darren out.”

They were driving back to the Valley from the courthouse. The afternoon was L.A.-hot, and Roxy had the windows rolled down. Her air-conditioning wasn’t working. Sweltering air streamed through the car, doing no good at all.

“Maybe that’s the right thing to do,” Roxy said.

“Not you too.”

“I can see his point. Colby wants the max and he may get it.”

Lindy snapped her eyes open. “You remember that girl surfer a couple years ago who got her arm bit off by a shark? And she was back to surfing a few months later?”

“Yeah.”

“Leon Colby wants to bite off my head. He doesn’t care if I ever practice law again, after this case is over. But I won’t have my head.”

Roxy laughed. They were on Victory Boulevard now, beating the freeway traffic by taking surface streets.

“What’s so funny?” Lindy said.

“I just had a vision. Your head, sitting on Colby’s table, shouting, ‘Objection, Your Honor!’”

“You’re sick.”

“I am.” Roxy looked in the rearview mirror and her expression changed.“And unless I’m totally gone, there’s somebody following us.”

“What?” Lindy looked at the side-view mirror. Several cars stretched out behind them. “You sure?”

“I’m pretty sure. That blue number, a couple cars back.”

“When did you pick this up?”

“I noticed it a few blocks from the courthouse, but thought it was just my imagination. Now I’m not so sure.”

“Speed up a little.”

“I’m not going to do a chase scene here.”

“Relax. Just a little. Let’s see if he keeps up.”

Roxy complied, giving the car a little extra gas, changing lanes. Lindy saw in the mirror that the trailing car changed lanes too. And sped up.

“Now what?” Roxy said.

“Keep it steady.”

“Red light coming.”

“No sweat.”

“I’m the one driving. I get to sweat.”

Over the next few blocks, the blue car kept an irregular but discernable distance between them.

“I don’t like this,” Roxy said.

“Let’s circle back around and drive to the West Valley police station, on Vanowen.”

“What if this guy’s a cop? Ever think of that?”

“Then he’ll feel right at home. Let’s go.”

“Can I wait for the light to turn green?”

When it did, Roxy proceeded to the next corner and turned right.

The blue car followed.

“I don’t believe this,” Roxy said.

“Keep going.”

Roxy turned right on Vanowen. Lindy saw the blue car in the mirror, still tailing.

“Persistent sucker,” Lindy said.

They approached the West Valley station.

“Go up the driveway halfway. Let’s see if he pulls in with all those black and whites.”

Roxy did as ordered. Two uniformed officers, in an act of impeccable timing, came out the front doors as Roxy screeched to a halt nearly on top of them.

Lindy looked in the mirror. The blue car whizzed by without turning in. Lindy caught a flash of the driver’s face.

And knew who it was.

2.

Leon Colby was in his office when he took the call from George Mahoney.

“How goes the war?” Mahoney asked.

“Fine.” Colby didn’t want to add anything to that. From what he knew of Mahoney, the less information you gave him the less could come back to bite you. Even though he was for the prosecution and could be of enormous political help, there was something about him Colby didn’t like.

“Any updates?” Mahoney asked.

“Nope.”

“A little inside info for your friends at VOICe.”

“And as always, we appreciate your support.”

“Ah, come on, Leon. You’re sounding like a politician already.”

“My door is always open.”

“You’re the master of the runaround.”

“What have I got to run around?”

“Many a thing, if past history is any example. Sometimes we have to fight a little harder depending on who the district attorney is. Before Sherman took over, we had to deal with a pretty closed shop up there, and that came back to bite the previous DA.”

“It’s a little early to be influence peddling, George.”

“The fact that you want to be DA is one of the worst kept secrets in this town. It’s like Cher and silicone.”

“Is there a reason for this call, other than to tell me Hollywood jokes?”

“Well, I was wondering if your relations with the law enforcement community will be an issue in this upcoming race. You know, the support of the Police Officers Guild was the big advantage for Sherman last time around.”

“I like the police.”

“That’s what I thought. But I hear things, you know? I’m sort of the central clearing house for the health and morale of this city’s good officers. They trust me. What can I say? I’ve earned that trust over a long period of time. And I know if you earn trust, and then lose it, you can’t get it back.”

“I think I can guess. Kirby Glenn called you. Or was it Larry Lopez?”