He strolled toward the Tulsa Transit bus stop, a happy man. There were always so many women riding the bus. So many women crowded together in such a small space.
The world was filled with possibilities.
Chapter 14
Ten minutes after the hearing was supposed to start, there was no one in the courtroom other than the principal players-the attorneys for both sides and the court bailiff. Somewhat ironic, Ben mused. Every time he tried a murder case, the courtroom was packed. People thought trials were exciting (even though, in the main, they weren’t), full of tricks and high drama and witness hysterics and Perry Mason-style manipulation-all leading up to that dramatic moment when the jury rendered the verdict. But no one ever came to see an appellate hearing. A bunch of lawyers talking? Who cared? But the truth was, what took place at these hearings was often more interesting-and more final-than anything that happened in a trial.
“Got your argument mapped out?” Christina asked. She was sitting beside him at counsel table, armed with three tall stacks of photocopied case law.
“I think so. I’m going to start with a few token citations to the precedents for granting habeas corpus relief.”
“All five of them, huh?”
“Right. But I won’t spend much time there, because I know the judge already knows all that. What I hope to make implicitly clear, as I discuss the result in each case, is that the federal courts have traditionally stepped in, on whatever grounds, when they believed there was serious doubt about the defendant’s guilt. And then I start laying down all the doubt.”
“Think it’ll work?”
“It might. If the judge is halfway reasonable, at the very least we should convince him to postpone the execution while we continue to investigate.”
“Are you going to use my second-man theory?”
He looked at her sternly. “Christina, we may be desperate, but we don’t have to act like it.”
From the other side of the courtroom, a heavyset man in a somewhat worn suit approached Ben. “Looks like we have some time on our hands.”
“Yeah. Any idea why?”
“Who knows? Federal judges do whatever they want.”
“I suppose.” Ben knew Jerry Weintraub from the days when he had interned at the DA’s office, before he moved to Tulsa. He was a big bear of a guy-always upbeat, impossible to dislike. He was representing the AG’s office in this hearing; the attorney general traditionally represented the state in criminal appeals.
“The problem is, these appointed-for-life federal judges all think they’re God. And it’s hard to keep God on a timetable.”
Ben half smiled. Jerry had always been one of his favorites, back in OKC, and he still was-even when he was on the other side. “I can’t believe you’re still with the AG’s office after all these years.”
“Hey-it’s job security. Don’t knock it.”
“Don’t you get tired of being the AG’s gofer?”
Weintraub appeared indignant. “Who’s a gofer? I’ve outlasted three attorneys general and four governors. I run the place. They take orders from me.”
“Uh-huh.”
“You should never have left the DA’s office, Ben.”
“After the big blowup with Bullock? I had no choice. Not that it matters. I like choosing my own cases.”
“Well, if this is an example of what you choose, you were better off doing government work.”
A rustling from the back of the courtroom told them the judge was making his way out of chambers. “Well,” Weintraub said, “time to put on my self-righteous-law-and-order-zealot face.” He skittered back to his own table.
“All rise.” The judge’s clerk stepped out of chambers and called everyone to attention. “This court is now in session. The Honorable Richard A. Derek presiding.”
Ben’s jaw fell three inches lower. “Did he just say-”
Christina nodded solemnly.
“We were supposed to get Holmes. This is Holmes’s courtroom. The clerk told us it was going to be Holmes.”
“It seems the clerk was wrong.”
The two attorneys watched as Judge Derek, Ben’s former nemesis at Raven, Tucker & Tubb, slowly walked to the bench, a grave expression on his face. He was, as always, extremely handsome. There was more gray flecking his temples these days, but predictably it just seemed to augment his underwear-model good looks.
“Why him?” Ben muttered under his breath. “Why did it have to be him?”
“Stay calm,” Christina whispered.
“How can I stay calm? The man hates me. He goes out of his way to make my life miserable.” He cast his eyes upward. “Why couldn’t it be Ellison or Seay or Eagan -”
“Isn’t she a Republican?”
“Even so. Better a judge who wants to hang the defendant than one who wants to hang the defense attorney.”
Derek stopped on his way to the bench to harangue his clerk. Ben couldn’t hear what was being said, but he could tell the poor underling was getting a major chewing-out. Probably forgot to pick up Derek’s dry cleaning or something.
Ben sighed. The man hadn’t changed a bit in the years since they had both been at Raven. This was going to be a disaster.
Derek took his seat, placing his hand against the side of his head. He made it look like a scratch, but Ben knew better. He was checking the lie of his toupee. A more vain man never lived.
Derek gazed out into the courtroom. As soon as he laid eyes on Ben, his expression soured.
“Great,” Ben muttered. “Just great.”
His shoulders heaving, Derek read from the papers already on his desk. “This is Case Number CJ-675-03D, In Re the Habeas Corpus Petition of Raymond D. Goldman. Are counsel ready to proceed?”
Weintraub stood. “We are, your honor.”
Christina nudged Ben. “Go for it.”
Ben shook his head. “No way.”
“What do you mean, no way?” she hissed. “You can’t back out now. Think about Ray.”
“I am thinking about Ray,” he whispered back. “And guess what, Christina? You just became lead counsel.”
“Did I mention that I don’t want to be here?” Mike asked.
“No,” Baxter said wearily. “But I’m sure you will.”
Mike watched as the mourners-and there weren’t many-filed past the gravesite. Did Erin really have so few friends? he wondered. Or did the fact that her death was commonly believed to have been a suicide keep people away? Had she had so much trouble reuniting herself with the real world, after the tragedy she had endured?
A few of the ten or so people in attendance at Erin Faulkner’s funeral Mike recognized from the organ clinic-Dr. Palmetto, for one. But most he didn’t know. And as he watched, it seemed to him that most of them didn’t know one another, either.