Special Circumstances (14 page)

“Your Honor,” I begin.
He cuts me off.
“Mr. Daley, the law is clear. The proof is evident enough for me.”
And you have an early tee-off time. He’s about to pound his gavel whenI hear a distinctive nasal voice from behind me.
“Your Honor, may it please the court.”
What the hell? Mort is walking through the gate into the well of thecourtroom.
Levin smiles.
“Why, Mor—Mr. Goldberg,” says Levin, “we haven’t seen you in thiscourt in some time.”
“Thank you, Your Honor. It’s nice to see you.” This is a trulytouching reunion. I’m waiting for Mort to ask Levin about hisgrandchildren.
“Your Honor,” I interrupt, “may I have a moment with Mr. Goldberg?”
Levin casts a stern glance at me.
“You’ve got one minute, Mr. Daley.”
I pull Mort aside. I whisper, “What the hell are you doing? He wasjust about to rule.”
“He was about to rule against you. I think I can help.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“I know this guy. We go to the same temple. Besides, you got anybetter ideas?”
I pause. He’s probably right.
“You think you can pull a rabbit out?”
“Watch me.” He turns back to the judge.
“Your Honor, I have just been retained as special counsel to Mr.Friedman. I must confess I haven’t read the entire Ele yet.”
And I’m reasonably sure you never will.
“Rather than ask you for a continuance,” he says, “I have a suggestionas to how the bail issue might be resolved.”
Levin looks at me. I look at Joel. Joel looks at his father.
“Any objections?”
Levin asks.
“Uh, no, Your Honor. I will defer to my colleague, Mr. Goldberg.” Godhelp us.
Levin looks interested.
“Go on, Mor—I mean, Mr. Goldberg.”
“Your Honor,” Mort begins, “I understand your concern about bail. Thecharges are serious.”
Skipper is speechless. McNulty stares straight ahead.
“Nevertheless, Your Honor,” Mort continues, “I have a creative solutionthat will ease your concern. I know Your Honor is acquainted with Mr.Friedman’s father, Rabbi Neil Friedman, of Temple Beth Sholom.”
“Yes,” says Levin.
“I would propose, subject to your approval, of course, that bail be setfor Mr.
Friedman, subject to his agreement to remain at all times in the houseof Rabbi Friedman, except when he has to be in court. And we would, ofcourse, expect Your Honor to require a fairly substantial bail.”
Levin scowls. He looks at Rabbi Friedman in the gallery. He addresseshim directly.
“Rabbi, is this acceptable to you?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
Skipper leaps up.
“This is highly unusual. The people respect Rabbi Friedman, but it’shighly unusual for a defendant to be placed in the custody of his ownfather. Highly unusual.”
You’re right, Skipper. It’s highly unusual.
Levin ponders. He turns to me.
“Is this arrangement acceptable to you, Mr.
Daley?”
No. I’d rather let Joel stay with his cellmate the pimp. I glance atJoel.
“It’s acceptable to us, Your Honor.”
“Well, it’s highly unusual. On the other hand, this court greatlyrespects Rabbi Friedman. Bail is set at a million dollars. Thedefendant will be released to the custody of Rabbi Friedman. He is toremain at Rabbi Friedman’s house except to appear in court. He mayhave visits from his attorneys and immediate family only. That’s it.We’re adjourned.”
Levin pounds his gavel. Joel turns to me.
“Am I out?”
“Yeah. We need to post bail. And you have to stay at your dad’shouse.”
“It’s better than the place I’ve stayed the last few nights.”
Mort taps me on the shoulder.
“So, what did you think of that one?”
“Pretty smooth.”
“It helps when the judge is on the board of directors at the temple.”Mort walks toward Rabbi Friedman. I hear him say he’s willing to havethe temple building pledged as collateral for Joel’s bond.
I glance at Rosie. She’s pleased. As we walk out, she whispers, “Doyou think we can find a trial judge who’s on the temple board ofdirectors, too?”
CHAPTER 15
THE DREAM TEAM
“Hiring Mort Goldberg was brilliant. They should put him in charge.”
—news center 4 LEGAL ANALYST morgan henderson. tuesday, january 13.
“It’s nice to see the TV stations have been able to rehire their legalanalysts from the O.J. trial to give us some helpful suggestions.” I’meating a bagel and talking to Joel as we sit in the heavy wooden chairsin his father’s dining room at nine o’clock the next morning. Mortnibbles on a sweet roll. Rosie sips a Diet Coke. I don’t know how shecan drink soda this early. Pete stands next to Mort. He hatesmeetings.
I look around the table. It’s a tough crowd. Mort is a first-rateprima donna.
Rosie runs her own cases. Pete works solo. Rabbi Friedman is used tohaving everybody listen to him. Joel makes all the important calls onhis deals. Not exactly a roomful of team players.
Showtime.
“Let’s get started,” I say.
“I’d like to welcome the Dream Team. We have only a week until thepreliminary hearing and we have a lot of work to do.”
Rosie grins.
“Which one are you, Mike? Cochran or Shapiro? Does that make SkipperMarcia dark? He’d look good in a dress.”
“Enough of that,” Rabbi Friedman snaps. We turn toward him. He lowershis voice.
“I’d like to thank Mort for his contribution at the arraignmentyesterday.”
Silence. Mort smiles uncomfortably and waves his unlit cigar.
“It was nothing,” he says.
All eyes turn toward me. I hand out copies of the first policereports.
“I want you to study these. We should have the coroner’s report latertoday.” I summarize the evidence. The fingerprints on the gun and thecomputer keyboard.
The taped phone messages. The fight at Harrington’s. The argument inBob’s office. The allegations of an affair. Diana’s pregnancy.
Rabbi Friedman cringes.
“Our mission is simple,” I say.
“If we’re going to get the charges dropped at the prelim, we have toget a lot of information in a hurry. They have a week to show theyhave enough evidence to hold Joel over for trial. We have a week toshow they don’t.
“I want to find out as much as we can about Bob and Diana. We need tofind their friends and relatives. We need to talk to the people at Sand G. We have to get a copy of Bob’s will and look at his investments.He probably had life insurance.”
I turn to Mort.
“I’d like your help with legal issues, motions and strategy. We shouldtry to get our hands on every piece of evidence before the prelim.”
Mort is pleased.
“I guess that makes me Alan Dershowitz.”
Rabbi Friedman rolls his eyes.
“For better or for worse.”
Pete looks at me. It’s like looking in a mirror. He’s a littleshorter, stockier than I am, and he has a neatly trimmed mustache. Hishair is darker.
Otherwise, we could be twins.
“Where do you want me to start?” he asks.
“I want you to look at the physical evidence and the forensics. I wantyou to look for holes in the police report and the coroner’s report.”It’s nice to have an ex-cop on the team.
“And I want you to figure out what happened to Vince Russo.” Ipause.
“And, I have something special planned for you. I need you to figureout who was sleeping with whom—and when.”
The corners of Pete’s mouth turn up slightly.
“Sounds like it’s right up my alley.”
“I want you to look into Bob’s personal life. I want you to see whatBob’s widow is up to. And there are some other people I’d like you towatch. They’re pretty high up in San Francisco society, so you’ll haveto be discreet. I want you to tail Arthur Patton.”
“I like it. What do you want me to look for?”
“The usual. He’s in the middle of an ugly divorce. See if he’sshtupping anybody. Evidently, he’s had some problems keeping hispants on. And he may have sexually harassed Diana Kennedy.”
Mort interrupts.
“Pete,” he says, “if you need some help, I have the name of a couple ofPis that I’ve used over the years. They’re very good.”
Pete looks at me.
“Mort,” I say, “Pete has his own people. He’ll be all right.”
“Look,” Mort says, “I wasn’t suggesting that Pete isn’t up to it. Iwas just trying to help.”
Before I can answer, Pete stares him down and says, “If I need help,I’ll let you know.”
Mort shrugs at Rabbi Friedman.
Joel asks, “What can I do?”
“I want you to make a list of everything you saw and everyone who wasthere.”
“I’m on it. I’ll have it for you right away.”
“One other thing. I want you to get on your laptop and start lookingat the corporate filings in every state you think Vince Russo hadbusiness. Maybe we can find him, if he’s still alive. Or maybe we canfigure out what happened to him.”
“Do we need to worry about the attorney-client privilege for Russo?”
It’s a legitimate legal point. He’s not supposed to divulge the deepdark secrets of his client. The correct legal answer, therefore, isyes. The practical answer, of course, is no. I’ll take anything thatmay help us.
“I
don’t want you to do anything illegal. On the other hand, try to geteverything you can. Russo isn’t doing you any favors.”
“The prelim is before Judge Brown,” Mort says.
“He’s a law school classmate of mine. Kenny and I play cards togetherat the Concordia Club. It seems to me that it may make sense for me totake a leading role.”
Silence. I look around the room. Rabbi Friedman is nodding.
“Mort,” I say slowly, “I appreciated your efforts at the arraignmentyesterday.
But I’m the person most familiar with the evidence. I’ll take the leadin the prelim.”
Rabbi Friedman frowns. Mort looks at his unlit cigar.
“It was just a suggestion.”
I glance at Rosie. Then I turn to Mort.
“Let’s get one thing straight here, Mort. I’ll make the final calls onstrategy. Do you understand?”
“Yes, I do,” he says quietly.
I dart a glance at Rabbi Friedman. I look at Mort.
“Listen,” I say, “it may make sense for you to argue some of the prehearing motions. Think you’re up to it?”
“Sure, Mike. You’re the boss.”
“Let’s get to work,” I say.
I’m driving Mort toward downtown on Bush Street in the pouring rainlater the same morning.
“Do you think we can get this knocked out at the prelim?” he asks.
“It’s going to be tough.”
He looks at the raindrops hitting my windshield.
“So the girl was pregnant.”
So much for political correctness.
“Yeah.”
“You know who the father is?” For all his idiosyncracies, at least hedoesn’t pull punches.
“Not yet.”
“You thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Depends. What are you thinking?”
“If Joel is the father, we’re fucked. We’ll know in a few weeks. Hetold the cops he never slept with her. If it turns out he’s thefather, he lied to us and he lied to the cops. The jury will nailhim.”
He may be a pleader, but he has good instincts. He cuts right to it.
“Just between us,” he continues, “what do you think the chances arethat he did it? You know—jealous rage. You’ve seen it a thousandtimes.”
“NFL, Mort. Not fucking likely. He’s just not the type.”
“How well do you know him?”
“Very well.”
“Well, hypothetically, let’s suppose he’s not quite the Boy Scout youthink he is. You suppose it might be a good idea to see what our newDA has up his sleeve?”
His true colors are coming out.
“You can’t seriously be thinking about a plea,” I say.
“It’s way too early. We’ve had the case for just a few days.”
“I know how these guys think. New DA. First big case. Doesn’t wantto fuck up.
Doesn’t know what he’s doing. That’s why McNasty’s there to hold hishand. If he can get a guilty plea, he’s golden. It’s instantpolitical capital. He can say he caught the bad guy and saved the citya ton of money in trial costs. In a few weeks, nobody will rememberthe plea. They’ll just remember the case was solved.”
You lazy sack of shit.
“I respect your instincts, Mort, but you’re way off the mark. I knowthis guy. He didn’t do it. We’re going to get this thing knocked out.Or we’re going to beat them at trial.”
He gives me a knowing grin.
“I figured you’d say that. I’m not saying he did it. I’m just sayingwe should look at all our options. I’ve been doing this for a longtime. There are good times and bad times to talk to the DA. For whatit’s worth, I think now is a good time.”
I can’t tell if he’s exercising cautious judgment or if he’s a tiredold man who’s lost his nerve.
“It’s too soon to talk about a plea, Mort,” I say again.
“Whatever you say,” he replies.
“Would it change your thinking if I told you things haven’t always beenso great between Joel and Naomi?”
Huh?
“What are you talking about?”
“You know I’m tight with Joel’s dad. Joel and Naomi have had someproblems.”
“What kind of problems?”
“She had postpartum depression after the kids were born. She’s stillgoing through it.”
“Their kids are six years old. Nobody has postpartum for six years.”
The rain pounds my windshield.
“Well, she did. They spent about thirty thousand bucks last year onshrinks. That’s one of the reasons Joel wanted to make partner—heneeds the money.”
I pause to let this sink in.
“Rabbi Friedman told you this?”
“Yeah. In fact, a few years ago, he asked me to recommend a doctor forher.”
I watch my windshield wipers swish back and forth as I stop at thecorner of Bush and Montgomery to let him out.
“What are you saying?”
“I wouldn’t rule out the possibility that Joel may have had someextramarital relations.”
Bullshit. No way.
“What makes you think so?”
“It’s like President Clinton. Sometimes, a guy’s just got to have it.And I’ll bet you anything for the last six years she hasn’t been givingit to him very often.”
The gospel according to the great philosopher, Mort Goldberg.
“What would you suggest?” I snap. I’m trying to remain calm.
“I think we ought to feel out the DA.” He opens the door.
“We aren’t going to consider a plea until we investigate.”
He reaches for his umbrella.
“You’re the boss. But, if we don’t get somebody else to confess byTuesday, they’ve got enough to bump this case over for trial.”
There’s a visitor sitting in my office when I get back at eleveno’clock.
“Hi, Mike.” Naomi looks embarrassed.
“I know I should have made an appointment.”
She’s wearing jeans and a plain white cotton blouse, no makeup. Hereyes look sad.
“You can come see me anytime.” I offer her a drink. She asks for aglass of water.
She smiles uncomfortably.
“I wanted to talk to you for a few minutes.”
“Sure.” I don’t know why she’s here. I figure I’ll start slowly.
“How are the kids?”
“They’re okay, all things considered. It was difficult at schoolyesterday, but they’re more resilient than we think. In some respects,they’re more resilient than the grownups.”
“That’s for sure.” I look at her closely. Her voice is tentative.
“How are you holding up?”
She closes her eyes and slowly opens them.