"Ridiculous!" Denardi exploded, giving full voice to his rage. "Just look at the man! What's ridiculous has been his treatment at the hands of the police. He's been battered half to death. You call this…?"
Suddenly Donahoe seemed to realize that the give-and-take in the courtroom had gotten completely out of her control, and she cleared her throat and lightly tapped her gavel. "Ms. Jenkins, Mr. Denardi. Let's not get into a personal squabble here, all right? I'm sure we'll get to the bottom of this and resolve it to everyone's satisfaction. Would you both mind sitting down, please? Thank you. Now, moving along, Mr. Farrell, do the people have information for bail purposes?"
After the near brawl that had been developing, the silence that suddenly reigned in the courtroom was unsettling. It took Farrell a few seconds to get to his feet. "Your Honor," he began, "the defendant is currently awaiting trial for murder and has been out on bail since his release from state prison. Within days of his release, one of the witnesses in his murder trial has been killed. After Lieutenant Glitsky went to question him about his whereabouts at the time of that murder, the next day Mr. Curtlee went to the lieutenant's home and threatened him and his family."
Denardi wasn't going to let this pass and again rose to his feet. "Your Honor, we've heard this before and it's simply not true."
Farrell, again ignoring protocol because Donahoe didn't seem to care about it, turned to his opponent. "It's absolutely true, Tristan, and you know it."
"I know nothing of the sort, Wes. You tell me one word of actual threat that Mr. Curtlee said. Or even that Glitsky alleges he said."
"He pointed at Glitsky's daughter and made a point of saying she was a nice-looking child."
Raising his hands theatrically Denardi let out a laugh and turned to the judge. "I rest my case, Your Honor. Calling a child nice-looking is hardly a threat."
Now Farrell raised his own voice, losing his temper. "Going to the house, by itself, is a threat. Mr. Curtlee's a convicted rapist and murderer out on bail. He's a suspect in the murder of the chief witness and he went to the house of the police inspector assigned to the case. You'd have to be crazy not to see what's going on here."
Again, finally, Donahoe lowered her gavel. "Gentlemen," she said. "Please." Then, "Mr. Farrell, I believe you were talking about bail. What was the original bail, by the way?"
"On the murder, ten million dollars, Your Honor. When officers tried to arrest Mr. Curtlee in this case, he took a gun and tried to kill one of them. Attempted murder of a police officer is a no-bail offense."
Nodding sagely, she asked, "Who set the bail on the murder?"
"Judge Baretto."
"And what are the people requesting this time around?"
"We want the scheduled bail, Your Honor. No bail in light of the current offenses and the defendant's history."
"Ridiculous!" Denardi said. "That's insane."
Donahoe simply nodded, acknowledging the interruption, but tacitly condoning it.
"And what are the charges, exactly, this time?" she asked.
Farrell looked down at his notes, impassive in the face of what he knew to be more problems. He and Glitsky and Jenkins were at least on relatively firm ground charging Ro with the one count of threatening an executive officer that Glitsky had gone down to arrest him for. But the fracas during the arrest had overshadowed that original charge and now Farrell was stuck with Glitsky's and Jenkins' egregious overcharging. But there was nothing for it. He had to brazen it through. "One count of threatening an executive officer (four twenty-two), one count of attempted murder on a police officer (six sixty-four/one eighty-seven). Three counts assault on a police officer with a deadly weapon (two forty-five[d] [one]), both of these latter two with firearm enhancement. Three counts," Farrell went on, "battery on a police officer (two forty-three[b]). All charges with a twelve-oh-two-two point one enhancement, since the defendant incurred these charges while he was out on bail."
"Your Honor!" Denardi again, on his feet. "There was no attempted murder. One of the officer's duty weapons fell out of its holster and Mr. Curtlee picked it up."
"And pulled the trigger," Jenkins said.
"I don't think so, Amanda. And beyond that, Your Honor, the alleged assault was pure self-defense. The police arrived at his house without a warrant and then attacked Mr. Curtlee when he went outside to find out what was going on with more police presence out in his street. This was a bogus arrest, as I've said before. Anyone would have resisted it, would have been justified resisting it, even with force."
This speech got a little rise out of the gallery, and yet again, Donahoe made no effort to control it, but rather let it run its course.
"Your Honor," Farrell said over the slowly subsiding hum. "All three police officers involved in the arrest are in the courtroom and are willing to testify about-"
But here, finally, Donahoe seemed to disapprove. Her mouth went tight and the flush came up in her face. "We're not turning this into a preliminary hearing, Mr. Farrell. I believe I made that clear during my opening comments. The question is about bail. And, to be honest, I'm tempted to send it back over to Judge Baretto and see what he thinks we ought to do."
"Your Honor." Jenkins stood up next to Farrell and tried with only minimal success to keep her voice neutral. "With respect, as Mr. Farrell has already said, the people seek no bail at all. Not even at the ten-million-dollar level. That the defendant has been allowed back on the street at all is a mockery of the judicial process."
"Now, now," Donahoe said. "I don't know if that's a little too strong…"
"It's a mockery, all right," Denardi said, again rising and getting into the act. "But it's these charges that are a mockery. Not only fabricated and vindictive, they're-"
"All right, all right, Mr. Denardi, that's enough. I take your point. Now just give me a minute here, would you all?" The judge looked down and ruffled through some pages in front of her. Picking up her pen, she made a few notes while the courtroom hung in suspense. Finally she looked up and offered a confident smile first to the prosecution table, then over to the defense. Mixed signals everywhere it was possible to send them. "I think Judge Baretto's set a bit of a precedent here. Due to the questions about the legality of the arrest itself and so forth, I believe a reasonable bail would be five hundred thousand dollars."
At these words, the courtroom exploded into applause that got interrupted by Jenkins, who could no longer restrain herself. "Your Honor!" she exploded.
"Oh, counsel," Donahoe said. "There's no jury here. You don't have to make a speech to impress anybody. You know as well as I do that defendants have rights. We'll get to the bottom of all this"-apparently one of Donahoe's pet phrases-"the charges and so on, after the preliminary hearing. And at that time, I'm making a note to revisit the bail question in light of the facts that come out during that hearing."
Another wave of what was clearly approbation made itself felt in the gallery, and Donahoe smiled, acknowledging that she'd made a crowd-pleasing decision. "Now, Mr. Denardi," Donahoe went on, "I assume that you'd have no objection to waiving time."
She was asking the defense counsel if he'd agree to postpone the preliminary hearing of his client beyond the ten days that the law provided. And of course it was to Ro's great advantage that Denardi did this. And then he'd waive time after the preliminary hearing so the trial wouldn't start within the sixty days the law provided, either. In fact, this was the beginning of the defense's orchestrated delaying tactics that could postpone a trial for a year or more.
"Your Honor!" Again Jenkins stood, although by now she was running out of steam. "The people object to waiving time."