“I object,” Moretti said, practically shouting at the judge.
“Sustained, Ms.-”
But Houghton was ready to take his shot. “Mr. Estevez isn’t charged with hacking his old lady’s head off like in the movie, is he? I didn’t hear that count.”
The judge had to gavel the courtroom back to order, while Houghton basked in the amusement he had provoked with his response.
“Approach the bench, both of you,” Fleming said, making her displeasure clear when we got within earshot. “Over and out, Alex. You’re done. Move on to the next seat and ask a few questions and then Gino takes it from there.”
“Understood.”
“Do you want a curative instruction, Gino?” she asked.
“Are you crazy, Judge? Call a little more attention to it? Spare me a ‘No, ladies and gentleman, Mr. Estevez is neither a vampire nor a homicidal maniac.’”
“He’s just a pumped-up pimp,” I said, whispering to Moretti, “who uses masks and machetes to coerce young women-to scare them to death-so they turn tricks from which he profits.”
“Your choice,” the judge said.
“If you’re not going to allow me to ask anything else,” I said, “I’d like you to go a little deeper into the meaning of sex trafficking, Judge. It’s not a familiar statute to most jurors.”
The sex-trade profession may be the oldest on earth, but the crime was a very new one on the books, ramped up recently in recognition of the brutal nature of sex slavery and the inadequacy of the old “promoting prostitution” laws.
“I’ll entertain some questions from you, Alex, but keep them within reason.”
The door creaked open at the rear of the room. I didn’t bother to turn this time as I tried to suggest a punch list for Fleming to use.
Her law assistant assiduously made notes of my comments, while the judge had her eyes on whoever had entered the room.
When I did glance back, I saw a neatly turned-out twentysomething-year-old striding down the aisle, making for the first pew, a row kept empty for press and for family and friends of the accused, directly behind Gino Moretti’s seat. She looked familiar to me. I had seen her recently, in the corridor near my office.
“Keep going, Alex,” the judge said to me, chewing on the arm of her eyeglasses. “That’s not the colleague you’ve been waiting for, is it?”
“No.”
“’Cause if it was, you might want to tell her she’s sitting on the wrong side of the courtroom.”
“She’s new. She’s a paralegal in the Child Abuse Unit, I think.”
“Cute kid. She could give some cred to Mr. Estevez, sitting at his back, fluttering her eyelashes over here at Gino.”
“She’s in the right place, Your Honor,” Moretti said. “Seated on the side of the angels.”
“You must mean my side, Gino,” I said, smiling at him. “That’s why she’s working in my office. Maybe I’ll scoop her up for the Special Victims Unit.”
“You’re missing my point, Alexandra. That young woman is married to Antonio Estevez.”
“She’s what?”
Fleming was on her feet again. “Lower your voice, Alex. I don’t need a situation here.”
“I don’t think she’s been in the office a month,” I said, my jaw clenched. “I’ll bet she didn’t put that fact on her job application. I can’t imagine the hiring administrator-”
“Of course it’s not on her application,” Moretti said, one eye on me and one on the attractive young woman who was trying to get the attention of the defendant. “The wedding was at Rikers Island last weekend. I was the best man.”
I was steaming mad. “I’d like a recess, Judge. I need to find out-”
“Don’t try to stall this anymore, Alex,” Moretti said. “Shit happens. There’s nothing illegal about marrying an inmate.”
Antonio Estevez looked back and saw his bride. She mouthed words to him, but I couldn’t read her lips. He nodded. Then she blew him a kiss and got up to leave.
“Excuse me, Judge, but I’ve got to talk to her. I’ll be right back,” I said.
Most of the prospective jurors were riveted by this bit of courtroom drama. Gino and I were having a standoff in front of the judge and the young paralegal was sashaying her way out of court. The jurors were staring at us as I took off after the new Mrs. Estevez.
“You’ve got no business, Alex,” Moretti yelled after me.
“Hold it right there, Ms. Cooper,” the judge said as she banged her gavel on the bench. “Captain, don’t let the DA out of here.”
The door slammed behind the paralegal and the captain of the court officers squared himself in front of it.
“I’d like to see you both in the robing room,” Fleming said to Moretti and me. “Ladies and gentlemen, I apologize for the lack of decorum in my courtroom. You’re excused from service for the next six years, with the thanks of the court.”
I walked past the judge on my way to the side door next to the jury box.
“You may have been looking for a mistrial, Ms. Cooper,” Fleming said, “but you are far more likely to have me find you in contempt right now, cooling down in a jail cell next to Mr. Estevez, before I give you the chance to pull that kind of stunt on me again.”
THREE
“So what’s the story, Alex?” the judge asked. She parked herself behind the bare wooden desk and invited Moretti and me to sit opposite her. “You started this afternoon’s session by saying that you were waiting for someone from your office to come up with information. Was Señora Estevez your courier? You knew this whole charade was about to happen? Showtime for the prospective jurors?”
“Absolutely not, Judge.”
“What, then?”
I hesitated. “May we go ex parte on this for a few minutes? Would you mind stepping out, Gino, while I explain the problem?”
“You bet I’d mind. I’m as curious as the judge.”
“That’s a new legal standard?” Fleming asked. “Curiosity? There’d be a lot of dead cats in this courthouse.”
“I’d rather answer the question you asked out of the presence of counsel, Your Honor. It’s a confidential matter,” I said.
“What news were you waiting for, Alex?” the judge pressed.
“Just so you understand, there’s an internal investigation in progress. When it was launched,” I said, looking at my adversary, “it had nothing to do with your client. And I assure you that work will go on.”
“See, Judge?” Moretti said. “Another threat.”
“It’s not a threat, Gino. It’s a fact. When I got into my office this morning, I was notified by the head of the IT team that someone outside my unit had tried to hack into my computer file on this case.”
“Oh, the drama in your world is-”
Judge Fleming silenced Moretti with one slam of her hand on the desk. “From outside the office, you mean?”
“No, no. Someone unauthorized to see my trial documents, but with access to the DANY system, logged in and tried to get through the firewall that was set up for my staff only.”
“Nice touch, Gino,” Janet Fleming said, nodding as she stared straight through Moretti’s blank face. “The virgin bride, perhaps?”
“Hold on, Judge. No pointing fingers at me,” he said, bracing both hands on his chest.
“And just a minute ago you were best man. Short honeymoon, Gino,” Fleming said with a sneer. “Go on, Alex.”
“When I came up to court this afternoon, Your Honor, we had no suspect and no reason to think anyone in the office had a connection to Mr. Estevez. Maybe someone was surfing and accidentally punched the wrong docket number into the database. I was hoping to get an answer to stop the spread of some sensitive information-hopefully find some virtual fingerprints of an inexperienced colleague before you impaneled a jury. That’s why I was so anxious and, frankly, trying to stall you.”