The Alligator Man (12 page)

K
evin delivered Billy to the Forrest County Sheriff’s Department on May 9, a Monday, at exactly one o’clock in the afternoon. Vern Fleming was there to witness the event along with Sheriff Frank Cousins and Jeanette Truluc. The sheriff was polite and shook Kevin’s hand as he introduced himself. Jeanette did the same. Vern just stayed in the background with his flyboy shades on and a smirk pasted across his face. Two uniformed police officers took Billy to be processed.

After Billy had been taken away, Jeanette approached Kevin. “Why don’t we go in one of the sheriff’s rooms and sit down and talk about logistics for a few minutes?” Her demeanor was serious and businesslike. She was a tall woman with caramel-colored skin, high cheekbones, and braided hair that was pulled back off her face in a loose ponytail.

Kevin was mildly surprised by the offer. State attorneys didn’t usually talk about logistics. You filed your motions, they filed theirs, and you met in the courtroom. The only discussions were about plea bargains. This was indeed surprising. Kevin was wary. The opponent always wanted something.

When he and Jeanette were seated in one of those white, ammonia-smelling rooms found in every police department in America, complete with one table, two chairs, and absolutely nothing else, Jeanette opened the conversation.

“You mentioned that you were immediately going to file a motion to set bail.”

“I am. I’m going straight to the courthouse from here.”

“I will be filing a motion for pretrial detention today as well,” she told him.

He smiled at her. He had expected the motion would be filed. He didn’t expect that she would tell him about it beforehand. In capital cases, the court had discretion to deny bail upon request of the state. Jeanette’s motion was that request. What followed was an
Arthur
hearing, so named after the case that established the proceeding,
State v. Arthur.
In that hearing, the state would have to prove that guilt was evident or the presumption of guilt was great, which basically meant that they had to outline their case for the judge. The hearing was required to take place within five days of the motion.

“I guess I’ll be here for a few days,” Kevin replied.

“If you want a continuance, I’ll agree to it.”

He didn’t want to delay the hearing. It was the fastest and most efficient way for him to find out what the state’s case was about.

“No, that’s fine. I’m here. We may as well go ahead with it. Who is our judge, do you know?”

Jeanette smiled. “Phillip Thorpe.”

Kevin understood why she smiled. Phillip Thorpe was a former federal prosecutor, a big, thick bear of a man. Kevin had tried a case with him in the past and it had not gone well. Thorpe was one of those judges who wanted the focus to be on him at all times, so he would randomly interrupt the lawyers, make his own objections, and do whatever it took to inject himself into the proceedings rather than oversee the process and make sure it went smoothly. He also had been a government man all his life and he believed in the swift, just arm of the law. This was not good news for Billy.

“I tried a case with him once,” Kevin told her.

“Yeah, I heard about that.” Jeanette smiled again. She had perfect, white teeth. She also had done her homework on him. “I heard that you and Judge Thorpe had quite a confrontation in the courtroom during that trial.”

It was Kevin’s turn to smile. “As I recall, we did. The judge did not appreciate my style of cross-examination and he let me know after every question. It seemed as if I was trying the case against him rather than the prosecution.”

“That’s what I heard.”

“It won’t happen in this case. Judge Thorpe and I worked through our differences.” It wasn’t a completely true statement. Judge Thorpe didn’t work through anything but Kevin was a good trial lawyer. After a couple of days, he had learned what he could and couldn’t do in Judge Thorpe’s courtroom and made the appropriate changes. The problem that could arise in this case, however, was when he might
need
to do something to protect his client—something that the judge didn’t agree with. Then the war could start all over again.

“Listen, since you are going to be here for a few days, I can make a copy of the file available for you so you can prepare for the
Arthur
hearing,” Jeanette told him.

Again Kevin was surprised. No state attorney had ever given him any material before he filed a demand for discovery with the court.

“I appreciate that.”

“I’ll have my staff get started right away. Why don’t I put this case on the docket for tomorrow morning? We can meet with the judge and get our scheduling taken care of, and I’ll give you the file then as well.”

“That’s fine.”

“It will be in courtroom C at nine a.m. sharp.”

Kevin got that message. Judge Thorpe would like nothing better than to rip into him in front of a group of attorneys for being late on that very first morning.

K
evin was already sitting at counsel table in the courtroom the next morning when Judge Thorpe entered. Since there were a number of preliminary hearings that morning, there was a slew of state attorneys and public defenders and private attorneys present. Billy’s case was third on the docket. When the court clerk called the case, Kevin and Jeanette both approached the podium. The judge was in a chipper mood.

“Mr. Wylie, you haven’t graced us with your presence in quite some time.”

“I apologize, Your Honor. I’ve been very anxious to get back here.”

Jeanette could not stifle her smile nor could the other state attorneys in the courtroom who knew the history between the two men. Judge Thorpe took it well.

“Good, good. I expect we’ll have a very uneventful trial. What do we need to do today?”

Jeanette answered that question. “Your Honor, Mr. Wylie has filed a motion to set bail and we have filed a motion for pretrial detention pursuant to rule 1.332. This is a capital case and I believe the next step is to set an evidentiary hearing pursuant to
State v. Arthur
.”

“Do you agree with that assessment, Mr. Wylie?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“Okay, how much time do you need, Ms. Truluc?”

“Half a day, Judge.”

“Do you agree, Mr. Wylie?”

“Since I don’t know what the state’s case is about, Judge, I have no reason to disagree.”

“I imagine you have an idea what it’s about, Mr. Wylie.” The judge looked at his calendar. “Okay, next Monday afternoon, sixteenth. We’ll start at one o’clock. Any objections?”

“No, Your Honor.”

“No, Your Honor.”

“Next case.”

As promised, Jeanette delivered a copy of her file to Kevin outside the courtroom after the hearing.

“It looks like you and Judge Thorpe picked up right where you left off.”

“I can tell he still loves me.”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking. If you have any questions, my number is on the file. I’ll see you Monday afternoon.”

Kevin stopped at the jail to see Billy and let him know the timetable of events. Billy seemed to be doing okay and Kevin hated to dampen his spirits, but he had to.

“He will rule on Monday, but I wouldn’t get your hopes up.”

“I understand,” Billy replied.

Kevin called Tom at Kate’s house when he was in his hotel room and unpacked. He briefed his father on what transpired at the hearing that day.

“From what you tell me about this judge, if there’s any basis to keep Billy locked up, he’s not going to let him out. It’s too high-profile a case. He lets him out and Billy skips, the press will eat him alive. We like to think it’s about the law, son, but it’s not.”

“I hear you. How are you feeling?”

“Not bad. Kate’s taking good care of me. It’s nice to breathe the fresh air every day. That hospital can kill you.”

O
n Friday afternoon Kevin went to the law library. He didn’t need to go. He could have done everything on his computer at the hotel. There was something about law libraries, however, with their long tables and hard chairs, that made them conducive to spreading files out and studying them for hours.

He had already been through the file once. Now he wanted to pore over it in detail and plan his defense while trying to figure out the state’s strategy.

He now knew the basic outline of their case. Billy had apparently been in Verona for five days. That fact had been established from the hotel records. The bartender had said he threatened to kill somebody the night Roy Johnson was killed. And a young man, Freddie Jenkins, had seen an old gray car similar to the one Billy owned turn down Gladestown Road coming from the direction of Verona and strike Roy Johnson. Kevin knew most of the story; he just hadn’t known Billy’s part.

An
Arthur
hearing was much more informal than an actual trial. Some witnesses would surely testify live at the hearing. Hearsay was allowed, so somebody from the sheriff’s office could just tell the judge about the results of the investigation without the state having to call each witness. Transcriptions of sworn statements could be submitted into the record as well, and the state attorney could simply summarize the testimony for the judge.

In this case, the crucial testimony was from the kid, Freddie Jenkins, because he witnessed the murder. Jeanette would probably put him on the stand at the hearing. Kevin had to decide whether he wanted to cross-examine Freddie. Freddie had identified the car that hit Roy Johnson as a Honda when it was actually a Toyota. Kevin could make a little hay with that in front of a jury but it made no sense to bring it up on cross at the
Arthur
hearing. There was something else about Freddie Jenkins’s testimony that bothered him, but he couldn’t pinpoint it yet. He knew it would come to him eventually if he just left it alone to stew in his brain.

The bartender, George Russo, was pretty straightforward. Jeanette would probably just introduce his sworn testimony into evidence. She’d do the same with Roy Johnson’s wife. Her testimony wasn’t crucial; she would just identify the pieces of cloth as similar to what Roy was wearing that night. The emotional sway of the grieving widow would go nowhere with the judge.

Either Carlisle Buchanan, the auxiliary officer, or Vern Fleming, the homicide detective, would talk about the investigation. She wouldn’t call both of them. Vern was the more likely candidate because he was an actual detective and he had wrapped up the investigation. Vern had actually done a good job, in Kevin’s estimation. He’d established that Billy’s car was in the hotel parking lot for a week and that Billy had signed into the hotel under a false name. Cross-examining him at the
Arthur
hearing would probably be a waste of time and he certainly didn’t want to waste Judge Thorpe’s time.

The State would surely present evidence through Vern or maybe the neighbor, Anne Lyons, that Billy lost his job, his pension, his wife, and his best friend to establish motive. It was a tight case.

Billy wasn’t going home anytime soon, Kevin was sure of that.

T
he library closed at seven and the librarian had to ask Kevin to leave.

“Do you know a good restaurant around here where I can get a bite to eat?” he inquired as he gathered up his file.

“There’s a steakhouse two blocks down. It’s called PK’s. It’s a small joint, but the food is good and the prices are reasonable,” the woman told him.

That was a good enough recommendation for Kevin.

PK’s was indeed an intimate little spot, and it had a nice vibe to it and, most important, a bar. Kevin ordered a beer and took a sip as his eyes adjusted to the darker atmosphere. He planned on eating at the bar but he took a look around to soak in the place. There was a familiar face sitting alone in the corner of the room at a table for two.

“Is it okay for a defense lawyer to talk with the prosecutor over dinner? I promise I won’t bite.”

Jeanette Truluc looked up from her legal pad to see Kevin Wylie standing at her table, a beer in hand.

“I’m not sure I believe you.” She smiled as she spoke. “In case you are tempted, however, I must tell you that I carry a gun.”

“Really?” Kevin asked. “Prosecutors carry guns here in Verona?”

“We have our own big-time drug dealers, Mr. Wylie. You know that. You’ve defended some of them here before.”

“I would hope that my clients would never resort to any type of violence.”

“Unfortunately, I cannot rely on that hope. I have to carry a gun and I have to go to the firing range once a week to make sure I can use it accurately.”

“And can you?”

“I can hit you in the chest ten out of ten times at thirty yards.”

“Okay, I believe you. Can we talk about something else?”

“Anything you’d like,” she said. “Have a seat.”

Kevin slid into the seat across from her. The waiter arrived immediately with a menu.

“What would you recommend?” he asked Jeanette.

“All the steaks are good but I prefer the fillet.”

“I’ll have the fillet,” Kevin told the waiter when the man came to take his order. “And another beer.” He noticed that Jeanette was nursing a glass of white wine.

Jeanette’s meal came first. She was having fish and broccoli.

“I thought you liked the fillet?” Kevin asked.

“I do, but I don’t eat a lot of red meat so I only have it once in a while.”

His fillet arrived soon after and it was as advertised.

“You’re right. This is delicious,” he told her after the first bite.

“Everything is good here. I’m a regular customer since it’s so close to my office and the courthouse.”

“Are you a Verona native?” he asked.

“No, I’m from your neck of the woods—Tallahassee.”

“How did you know that’s my neck of the woods? After all, I’m a Miami lawyer. Don’t tell me you researched me back to my childhood.”

Jeanette laughed. “Don’t flatter yourself.” In this setting, with her hair down and a smile on her face, the woman was very pretty. “Actually, I’m assuming you come from St. Albans because that’s where your father lives.”

“My father? How do you know my father?”

She had him totally confused and she was enjoying it. “I don’t. My father knows your father.”

“Really?”

“Yes. My dad is a professor at FSU law school. Your father has lectured there on several occasions at the invitation of my dad.”

“Really? It is a small world. Why would your dad invite my father to talk at FSU?”

“My father has always been very interested in the history of the civil rights movement in Florida, particularly the legal history. Your father was part of that history, at least in the northwest area of the state. There was a case in 1977 that particularly interested my dad. You probably know about it.”

“The rape and murder of Ellen Wells.” Kevin surprised himself that he actually remembered the woman’s name.

“That’s it. That’s the case. There are only a handful of people in the state of Florida who remember that case. It’s very strange, under the circumstances, that you and I are two of them.”

“Yes, it is,” Kevin replied. He had no reason to tell her that he had just learned about Ellen Wells—or that the case of Ellen Wells was the backdrop for the disintegration of his family. He preferred to listen to her perspective.

“I was a third-year law student at the time. My father wanted me to attend the lecture so I did and it was very interesting. Your father talked so eloquently about the tension between the races in the sixties and how it was all still there, just below the surface in the late seventies. It only took a spark to ignite everything all over again.”

“How did that case turn out?” Kevin asked. During his discussion with his father, Tom had never told him whether he had saved his client from conviction or not.

“The defendant was convicted, and of course, he got the death penalty, but he was exonerated years later when the only eyewitness recanted his testimony. Your father was still representing him. That’s the part I think my father wanted me to remember—practicing law isn’t just about making money.”

Kevin felt like Jeanette was looking through him as she said the words. She had certainly learned the lesson from her father. She was working for the state. He, on the other hand, had spent his career working for a lowlife representing drug dealers for nothing but money.

While they were having a fairly pleasant conversation, Kevin decided to address the issue of a plea bargain, although he already had an idea what the answer would be. “I have read through your file and I appreciate your providing it to me so quickly. Is there any possibility that we could come to some kind of deal?”

Jeanette shook her head. “Normally, in a case like this, with the extenuating circumstances of what happened to your client and his family, I would say yes. But this one is out of my hands. I’ve already talked to my boss about not asking for the death penalty because of those reasons. He wouldn’t even go for that.

“This is a high-profile case, probably the biggest case ever in Forrest County. My boss is a politician. If he backs off at all in the prosecution, his opponent in the next election will beat him over the head with that, calling him ‘soft on crime’ and a million other things. That’s just how it works. I don’t think we have a chance in hell of getting the death penalty, but I’m asking for it.”

“Well, at least we know where we stand. I appreciate your candor.”

“No problem.

They both finished their meal in silence.