The Alligator Man (26 page)

I
t was a zoo in front of the courthouse on Monday morning. Barriers were set up to handle the crowds. The talking heads were already broadcasting from their kiosks across the street. Carlisle had walked Kevin over. Although Carlisle left his rifle in the car, Kevin was sure he had a weapon on him somewhere. They were about a block from the courthouse observing the scene.

“They can smell blood in the water,” Carlisle said.

“Yeah. Everybody will be in Billy’s corner until he gets convicted. Then they’ll go home and look for something else to get excited about. The world is crazy.”

“I’m with you there. Listen, I’m going to leave now. Walk straight into the courthouse. Don’t stop and talk to anybody.”

Kevin shook Carlisle’s hand. “Thanks,” he said. “For everything.”

“You’ve done just as much for me as I’ve done for you,” Carlisle said. “And you’ve trusted me enough to share with me what your client told you. I didn’t fully process it until this morning. I’ve got a hunch about something—something I remembered. If you can keep this trial going for another day, maybe I’ll have some new evidence for you.”

Before Kevin had an opportunity to inquire about what that new evidence might possibly be, Carlisle was gone.

The courtroom was full when Kevin finally arrived inside. Some reporters had stopped him at the top of the steps but he had refused to talk to them.

Billy was already there, dressed in the black suit that he had worn the first day. Kevin barely had time to talk to him.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“I’m a little nervous. Today’s the day, isn’t it?”

“Maybe. You never know what the State is going to do.”

Just then, the bailiff yelled, “All rise!” and Judge Thorpe entered the courtroom. He must have had a bad weekend with the knee because the limp was more pronounced than normal and his countenance seemed especially malevolent.

“Before we bring the jury in, Ms. Truluc, are you resting your case?”

“No, Your Honor, I have three more witnesses to call.”

Kevin was caught totally off guard.
Who the hell is she bringing in now?

Judge Thorpe did not look happy. “Bring in the jury,” he told the bailiff.

When the jurors were seated, the judge looked at Jeanette. “Ms. Truluc, call your next witness.”

Jeanette stood up. “The State calls Bobby Joe Sellers.”

Jeanette had known about Kevin’s intention to call Bobby Joe Sellers, Randy Winters, and Bernie Stang for several days because Bernie had called her boss, Ralph Curtis, and tried to enlist his help in getting the subpoenas quashed. It wasn’t hard to size up what was left of Kevin’s case: He’d done a good job establishing through the retired FBI agent, Richard Bothwell, that Roy Johnson was probably in on the drug operation and probably used drug money to start Dynatron. If it was Sellers’s and Winters’s drug money, they had a motive to kill Roy Johnson. Winters got out of prison the same week Johnson was murdered, so he not only had opportunity, but also the timing couldn’t have been better for the defense.

Jeanette could choose to ignore those facts or address them in her case. Since Kevin was calling these guys anyway, it was a better strategy for her to get to them first. She had one of the sheriff’s men prepared to serve them with her subpoena as they walked in the door on Monday morning.

Kevin saw her strategy immediately. He wanted to kick himself since he had left all three men under subpoena even though he had no intention of calling them.

The bailiff returned empty-handed. “He’s not here, Your Honor.”

The judge looked at Jeanette. “Was he served?”

“Mr. Wylie had him served, Judge. I was just going to piggyback on that service this morning.”

The judge looked at Kevin.

“That’s correct, Judge,” Kevin replied. “He was served. The affidavit of service is in the court file.”

“I’ll issue a warrant for his arrest,” the judge said. “Call your next witness.”

“The State calls Randy Winters.”

Randy Winters wore a tan corduroy jacket, black slacks, and a blue open-collar button-down shirt into the courtroom. He was well manicured. Jeanette went through some preliminary questions to establish his prison history. Randy told her he had been in a federal penitentiary for twenty-two years.

“Did you know Roy Johnson back in the eighties before you were convicted?”

“Yeah, I knew him. We weren’t close friends or anything, but I knew him.”

“Was he part of the drug-smuggling operation?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why do you say ‘absolutely not’?”

“Because I knew everybody who was involved and he wasn’t.”

“We heard testimony from an FBI agent last week that Roy Johnson was a suspect in that drug operation. Do you disagree with that?”

“I don’t disagree with it. Everybody was a suspect. They eventually arrested at least half of the men in town. They didn’t arrest Roy Johnson because he wasn’t involved. He may have been a suspect like everybody else, but he wasn’t involved and he was never arrested.”

“Did you ever give him any money to hold for you?”

“No.”

“Do you know where he got the money to start his company, Dynatron?”

“I assume he had investors like every other businessman who starts a company.”

“Did you ever give him any money to invest?”

“No.”

“No further questions, Your Honor.”

“Cross, Mr. Wylie?”

Kevin stood up. “Yes, Your Honor.”

R
andy Winters had been a fairly good witness so far, although Kevin suspected that the jury did not believe his story about Roy Johnson not being involved in the drug-smuggling operation. They would have to disbelieve the testimony of an FBI agent to buy that story. Still, Kevin felt he had to go after him.

“Who was your lawyer in your criminal case back in 1982?”

“Bernie Stang.”

“Is he still your lawyer?”

“Yes.”

“Did you know he was also Roy Johnson’s lawyer?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Are you testifying that there is absolutely no connection between Bernie Stang representing you, Bobby Joe Sellers, and Roy Johnson?”

“None.”

“It’s just coincidence. Is that what you are saying?”

“Those are your words, Counselor. I’m saying I don’t know how, why, or when Bernie came to represent Roy Johnson. All I know is that he represented me and Bobby Joe. He’s a criminal lawyer. That’s what he does.”

“You got out of prison on April fourth in 2005, is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“Where were you at eleven thirty the evening of April tenth?”

“I’m not sure. Probably sleeping. I started fishing right away when I got out. We get up early.”

“Was anybody with you when you were sleeping on the night of April tenth?”

“No, I was alone.”

Kevin paused a moment before proceeding.

“You testified on direct examination that you knew everybody involved in the drug operation, correct?”

“That’s correct.”

“Is that because you were running it?”

“Yes.”

“How long was it operating for?”

“Several years.”

“Can you be more specific?”

“Three years.”

“Only three years?”

“Yes.”

“It wasn’t ten years?”

“No, it wasn’t ten years.”

“Where is the money you made in that operation?”

“I spent it.”

“You didn’t maybe squirrel it away in a hidden account in the Cayman Islands with the help of your lawyer, did you?”

Jeanette was on her feet in a heartbeat. “Objection, Your Honor.”

“Objection sustained,” Judge Thorpe bellowed. Kevin knew there was more to come. “Mr. Wylie, you know better than to ask a question that constitutes nothing more than your own testimony. It does not matter what the answer to that question is. It was intended to plant a seed in the jury’s mind without any facts to support it. And I make this statement in front of the jury because, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I am instructing you to not consider the question. Strike it from your mind as if it was never asked because it is nothing but pure speculation. Mr. Wylie, if you ask another question like that I will hold you in contempt of court.”

Kevin waited until the judge was completely finished before firing back. He knew he had to be quick before the judge cut him off. “With all due respect, Your Honor, this jury heard testimony from an FBI agent that Roy Johnson was a principal in the drug operation and that drug money may have been used to finance his company, which had money in offshore accounts in the Cayman Islands. I am in my rights as attorney for the accused to question the credibility of a convicted felon, the man who was running the drug ring, as to where the money really went. I don’t have to accept his testimony.”

The battle had begun. Everybody—the jurors, the gallery, even some of the court personnel—was frozen, not daring to move. All eyes were on Judge Thorpe.

“Clear the courtroom,” the judge yelled at the bailiff. He then turned to the jury, his voice still loud, his anger palpable. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, you can take your lunch break now. Come back at one thirty, and remember, do not talk among yourselves.” They all nodded like sheep that they wouldn’t. It was apparent that they feared for their own lives if they did.

When the courtroom was clear, the judge addressed Kevin. His jaw was clenched and he gritted his teeth as he spoke. “Mr. Wylie, this court demands respect. Lawyers don’t talk to judges like you just talked to me in front of that jury. I want the record to be clear that I am giving you this one opportunity to tell me why I should not hold you in contempt.”

Kevin was totally calm in stark contrast to the judge. “I apologize to the court if you took offense at my remarks, Judge. They were not meant as a personal attack at all. Before I go further, Judge, could we remove the witness from the courtroom?”

The question made the judge even angrier because he knew Kevin was right. Randy Winters had no business being in the courtroom at that time.

“Remove the witness!” he yelled again at the bailiff.

When Winters was gone, Kevin continued, “I appreciate the court’s role in making sure the jury hears only proper evidence and I am well aware of the tactics of asking questions that have no basis in fact. But that is not what I did. I based my question on previous testimony from a government agent. Perhaps you did not recall that testimony when you made your remarks to the jury, Your Honor. What is cross-examination for but to test the credibility of a witness—especially a convicted felon? The State is parading convicted felons in here to support their case.”

“Come on, Mr. Wylie,” the judge interrupted. He had calmed down somewhat. “You know as well as I do that you had subpoenaed these people and were planning on calling them. Ms. Truluc just beat you to the punch.”

“It doesn’t matter, Judge. She put these people on. She wants the jury to rely on their testimony.”

Jeanette interrupted at that point. “I put them on because you raised them as your straw men. This is a search for justice, and the jury needed to hear from them because you, Mr. Wylie, were using them as your defense.”

“And I have no problem with that, but once they get on that stand, they are subject to cross-examination. I don’t have to accept what Randy Winters says. I certainly wasn’t planning on calling him to establish his honesty and credibility. I was calling him to establish that he was a liar and a cheat and possibly a murderer. And Judge, if I can get back to your issue for the moment: When you attack me and my motives in front of the jury, you are in essence attacking my client and his motives and his credibility. He is on trial for his life. I have to respond as vigorously as I can. That is my obligation.”

Kevin had succeeded with his attitude and demeanor in calming the situation down. Judge Thorpe did not respond right away. He may have wanted to hold Kevin in contempt but he had a trial that needed to be completed.

“I’ll tell you what I’m going to do, Mr. Wylie. I’m going to hold this matter in abeyance and let this trial continue, and I’m going to go back and read the testimony of the FBI man, Mr. Bothwell, and your question and your response to the court. When this trial is over, I will rule on whether I’m going to hold you in contempt or not. Now do you have any other questions of this witness? If so, I want to know what they are.”

“No, Your Honor.”

“Okay, you both have a half hour to eat. And let’s see if we can avoid World War III this afternoon when Mr. Stang testifies.”

A
s usual, Kevin stayed in the courtroom over the lunch break with his candy bar and a bottle of water. He knew Bernie was going to pull something. The man thought Kevin had something on him, something so damning that Bernie had planned to kill Kevin over the past weekend. He could not envision Bernie just walking into the courtroom without a fight.
What the hell is he going to do?
Kevin asked himself. He did not have long to wait.

Promptly at one thirty, Judge Thorpe walked into the courtroom. The gallery was full again. Word got out that things were heating up, and folks were excited.

“Is there anything else we need to discuss before we bring in the jury?” the judge asked.

A tall, rather robust, white-haired gentleman dressed in a white suit with a booming voice rose from the gallery at that moment and addressed the court. “Your Honor, Franklin Rutledge here.”

“I know who you are, Mr. Rutledge. And for what reason do you honor us with your presence?”

All the lawyers knew who Franklin Rutledge was and probably most in the gallery did as well. He was one of the most famous criminal lawyers in America.

“Your Honor, I have the distinct privilege of representing my colleague Bernard Stang in the present matter before this court. My client has been subpoenaed by both the State and the defense, and I believe that the State of Florida intends to call my client as a witness this afternoon. I am here to place an objection on the record and to inform the court that my client cannot appear under the circumstances.”

“First things first, Mr. Rutledge. Ms. Truluc, do you intend to call Mr. Stang as your next witness?”

“I do, Your Honor.”

“Okay. Now, why don’t you tell us why your client can’t appear and testify, Mr. Rutledge?”

“Your Honor, may I come inside the bar?” Mr. Rutledge spoke the words as if it were blasphemy for a man of his stature to be addressing the court while standing in the gallery. It was fine for a dramatic opening but that scene was over.

“You may,” Judge Thorpe told him.

Franklin Rutledge walked down the center aisle and inside the bar, certain that every eye in the courtroom was on him. He stood in the middle of the well between the two lawyers and Billy and in front of Judge Thorpe, who looked down at him from his throne on high.

“Thank you, Your Honor,” Rutledge said, sure that the crowd was now hanging on his every word. “My client is a lawyer and not just any lawyer. He happens to have represented the deceased Roy Johnson, and Robert Sellers, and Randall Winters. The attorney-client privilege is one of the most sacred privileges in our society. Indeed, it may be one of the few privileges left to ordinary citizens. It would be a flagrant violation of that privilege if one’s lawyer were required to testify in a criminal proceeding about what his client told him.”

Judge Thorpe was not impressed with Franklin Rutledge’s theatrics. “Mr. Rutledge, one of Mr. Stang’s clients is dead. His communications are no longer protected if he is dead.”

“I heartily disagree, Your Honor. The privilege is still there, especially since both Mr. Sellers and Mr. Winters are still alive. If two or even three people are allegedly engaged in an endeavor and one dies, does their attorney have the right to communicate what the deceased said to the detriment of his other clients? I cannot believe that is the law.”

Judge Thorpe wasn’t sure about that one either. He turned to Jeanette. “What do you say, Ms. Truluc?”

“Well, Your Honor, I’m not interested in privileged communications. I’m interested in whether Mr. Stang represented Roy Johnson back in 1982, whether Mr. Johnson was a suspect in a criminal investigation back then, and whether he knows anything about money being taken by Mr. Johnson to the detriment of Mr. Sellers and Mr. Winters, as the defense suggests.”

Franklin Rutledge responded without the judge asking for his opinion. “As you can see very clearly, Your Honor, the second question involves the attorney-client privilege as it relates to Mr. Sellers and Mr. Winters. Your Honor, this is an issue that cannot be debated on a question-by-question basis in front of a jury.” Rutledge countered, “We need an evidentiary hearing to determine what questions fall within the privilege and what questions don’t. And we need to know the questions before that hearing.”

“You are not getting an evidentiary hearing, Mr. Rutledge,” Judge Thorpe stated very forcibly. “I’ve got a jury in the other room that is patiently waiting to hear the rest of this case, make a decision, and go home. I’m not going to make them wait a second longer than we have to.”

Judge Thorpe realized that he had not given Kevin an opportunity to weigh in on the matter, even though Kevin didn’t seem to be all that anxious to enter the fray.

“Mr. Wylie, do you have anything you want to add?”

“I hate to admit this, Judge, but I’m with Ms. Truluc on this one.”

Even the judge smiled at that answer.

All eyes returned to Franklin Rutledge, who paced back and forth in front of the judge’s dais.

“I understand the court’s dilemma,” Rutledge bellowed in his deep southern twang. “Perhaps there is a way to resolve this matter and protect everyone’s interests without an evidentiary hearing.”

This guy is really good,
Kevin thought.
Now he’s playing the friend of the court.
Kevin knew that the coming proposal was planned before Franklin Rutledge ever stepped foot in the courtroom. He also knew that Rutledge wouldn’t offer it until the judge asked him to.

Judge Thorpe unwittingly played his part. “What is your proposal, Mr. Rutledge?”

“Well, Your Honor, Ms. Truluc could submit written questions, giving myself and Mr. Wylie a copy. Mr. Wylie could then submit his cross-examination questions. I would follow with my objections and submit legal arguments to the court. The court could review the questions, the arguments, and then make a decision. It would be a quick process that would protect the rights of everyone involved and not unduly delay the process.”

“And what time frame would you envision?”

“If Ms. Truluc could submit her questions immediately or within the hour and Mr. Wylie could submit his cross-examination by three o’clock this afternoon, we could all file briefs and submit them by eight o’clock tomorrow morning. The court could make a decision and then proceed with the trial.”

Kevin could immediately tell by Judge Thorpe’s expression that he liked the plan.

“What do you think, Ms. Truluc?” the judge asked.

“I’ve already stated my objection, Your Honor.”

“I assume you are sticking with Ms. Truluc, Mr. Wylie?”

“Yes, sir, and I would add that I told this court I was calling Mr. Stang as a witness in my opening statement. Mr. Stang had his subpoena before that time. This is a last-minute delay tactic. I say we put him on the stand and you deal with the objections as they come up.”

Rutledge had a response to that point as well. “There is no way my client could anticipate how this trial was going to proceed and that potential conflicts would arise involving the rights of three of
his
clients. Besides, the method Mr. Wylie suggests would be too confusing for the jury. There would be an objection to every question and then a legal argument. It would be chaotic.”

“Your point is well-taken,” the judge replied. “A brief delay to resolve this matter is something I can live with and, in the long run, will make the jury’s job a little easier. So this is what we’re going to do: Ms. Truluc, submit your questions by two thirty this afternoon; Mr. Wylie, submit your cross-examination by four thirty. Briefs will be submitted by eight o’clock in the morning and we will resume the trial at nine. Any questions?”

Nobody had any questions.

“Okay. Let’s bring in the jury.”

It had been a brilliant move on Bernie’s part to bring Rutledge on board. Now Bernie would know for sure that Kevin did not have the files that David Lefter had taken from his warehouse. He could also prepare and explain away every other question that was asked.