The courtroom of the Honorable James L. Blake looked not the least like our "people's courtroom" on the cliffs of Montauk. With thirty-foot ceilings, chandeliers, and polished mahogany paneling and benches for the public, it could have been the Old Whalers' Church in Sag Harbor.
We took our seats at the defense table as Josh chatted in hushed tones with the assistant U.S. attorney assigned to our case. Dressed in a plain gray suit, white button-down shirt, and red and blue silk rep tie, AUSA Arthur Marshall was reasonable yet stern, determined to "exercise his prosecutorial discretion" in accordance with the Department of Justice operating manual.
Three months earlier Mack, Pauline, and I had all entered guilty pleas to a two-count indictment, charging us with conspiracy to kidnap and the actual kidnapping of Barry Neubauer, Campion Neubauer, William Montrose, Tom Fitzharding, Stella Fitzharding, Tricia Powell, and Frank Volpi. There had been no point in going through with a trial; we knew what we were doing, and why. At the time we entered our guilty pleas, we were informed by Judge Blake of the price we would have to pay for the justice that we had gotten for Peter: "At the time of sentencing, you will face a custodial sentence of not less than twenty years."
Today was that day.
"All rise!" commanded the bailiff as the Honorable James L. Blake entered the courtroom.
The crowd in the courtroom "pews" rose as the elderly judge lumbered up the steps to the bench, his black robe dragging on the floor behind him. He looked almost as old as Mack, and just as thorny. He took his seat and glared out at the courtroom.
"Be seated," he barked.
"The United States versus Jack Mullen, Macklin Reid Mullen, and Pauline Grabowski," called out the bailiff. "This case is on for sentencing."
Chapter 113
"IS THE GOVERNMENT PREPARED TO PROCEED?" asked the judge.
"The government is ready, Your Honor," replied Marshall, rising to his feet.
"The defense?"
"We are ready to proceed," said Josh, looking a bit green around the gills.
"Well, then, have a seat, gentlemen," said the judge. "We're likely to be here for some time."
With that, Josh and Arthur Marshall exchanged a quick glance and sat down.
"I have been deeply troubled by the actions of the defendants in this case, as I am in every criminal case," began Judge Blake.
"Not simply because of the nature of the crime, an abhorrent deprivation of the liberty worked upon several individuals, but because of the backgrounds of the defendants.
"The younger Mr. Mullen is a recent graduate of one of our nation's foremost schools of law, where he had the benefit of exposure to preeminent legal scholars.
"Ms. Grabowski has spent the past ten years as a private investigator, employed by one of this city's most well-established law firms. She has testified in this very courthouse innumerable times, and has worked with some of our finest practitioners.
"As for the senior Mr. Mullen, you came to this country seeking economic opportunity for yourself and your family. You spent the majority of your adulthood as a hardworking man of your community. True, you have suffered a tremendous loss with the tragic death of your grandson, but this cannot excuse your conduct."
When the judge took a moment to catch his breath, Mack seized the opportunity to whisper an old Irish prayer. For the first time, Pauline looked scared. I took her hand and squeezed it. I loved this woman. I couldn't begin to imagine being separated from her.
"As for the government, young Mr. Marshall here," the judge continued, nodding in the direction of the prosecutor, "and his boss, U.S. Attorney Lily Grace Drucker, have, in their infinite compassion, recommended that I impose only the minimum sentence statutorily available to me, twenty years, in light of the defendants' lack of any prior criminal records. After much consideration, I'm afraid I decline to accept the government's generous recommendation.
"But before I proceed to hand down the sentence of the court, I wish to comment upon the collateral consequences of the defendants' actions.
"As I am sure all parties are aware, as a direct result of the defendants' investigative work and expertise at 'trial,' Mr. Barry Neubauer, the main 'victim' here, has been charged with twelve separate counts of manslaughter and is on trial as I speak in the New York State criminal court.
"As U.S. Attorney Drucker has announced, the FBI is currently investigating William Montrose, esquire, in connection with charges that he suborned perjury and intimidated a witness – Dr. Jane Davis – at the inquest into Peter Mullen's death, again, as a direct result of the defendants' actions.
"Mr. and Mrs. Fitzharding have left this court's jurisdiction and have refused to assist this court in its presentence investigation.
"Detective Francis Volpi has recently been arrested in connection with the homicide of Sammy Giamalva here in Manhattan. He is also a suspect in the murder of Peter Mullen.
"And Campion Neubauer has been indicted as an accessory in the murder of Peter Mullen."
The judge looked up from his bench, as if to survey the courtroom. "These are dark times for our system of criminal justice. Recent verdicts in so-called high-profile cases have led to the broadly held conclusion that there is justice in this country only for those whose wealth or celebrity can buy it for them.
"I have sat on this bench for the past forty-four years, since President Eisenhower saw fit to appoint me. In all those years, I have never been as distressed by the so-called administration of justice in this country as I am today.
"That said, here is my ruling."
There wasn't a sound anywhere in the court. Pauline's nails were cutting into my palm. Macklin had my other hand wrapped in his.
"The court," said Judge Blake, "on its own motion, chooses to invoke Federal Sentencing Guideline Five-K-One point one. This section, for the ladies and gentlemen of the press, allows the court to downwardly depart in sentencing those defendants whose cooperation with the government has led to the investigation or prosecution of another person or persons. Given the valuable assistance the defendants have provided, I am sure that I will hear no objection from the government on this motion?" asked the judge. He looked over at the prosecution table.
"None, whatsoever," croaked Marshall, looking in his fresh-scrubbed youth like a boy who had just been spared a dreaded chore by a forgiving adult.
"Good answer."
"Macklin Reid Mullen, Pauline Grabowski, Jack Mullen, the court sentences you each to time served and to six hundred hours of community service, to be performed in the Legal Aid Society, Capital Defenders Unit. From now on, the only trials you will be involved in will be on behalf of indigent death row defendants.
"This court now stands adjourned."
As the judge pounded his gavel on the bench and rose to walk down the stairs, the spectator section exploded in applause, cheers, and high fives.
Reporters crowded around us as Mack, Pauline, and I embraced in a bear hug. None of us said a word to the press.
"Your brother is proud of you," Mack whispered in my ear.
As the three of us were leaving the courtroom, arm in arm, I thought of something, an old sacred memory.
When Peter was just a little kid, after our mother had died, he used to sneak into bed with me just about every night. "I like hearing your heart beat, Jack," he'd say.
I had liked hearing Peter's heart, too. I missed it.
