The judge adjourned the hearing and the two court deputies came to the defense table to take La Cosse back to the lockup. I asked for the chance to confer with my client for a few minutes, but they told me I would have to do it in the courtroom’s holding cell. I nodded to Andre and told him I’d be back to see him shortly.
The deputies took him away and I stood up and started repacking my briefcase, gathering the files and notebooks I had spread out on the table before the hearing. Forsythe came over to sympathize. He seemed like a decent guy and up till now had not — as far as I knew — played games with discovery or anything else.
“Must be hard,” he said.
“What’s that?” I responded.
“Just banging away at these things, knowing the success rate is what, one in fifty?”
“Maybe one in a hundred. But when you hit that one? Man, that’s a sweet day.”
Forsythe nodded. I knew he wanted to do more than commiserate on the defense attorney’s lot in life.
“So,” he finally said. “Any chance we might end this before the trial?”
He was talking about a disposition. He had sent up a balloon back in January and then another in February. I didn’t respond to the first one — which was an offer to accept a second-degree conviction, meaning La Cosse would be out in fifteen years. My ignoring the offer brought an improvement when Forsythe came around again in February. This time the DA was willing to call it a heat-of-passion case and let La Cosse plead to manslaughter. But La Cosse would still do at least ten years in the pen. As was my duty, I took the deal to him, and he turned it down flat. Ten years might as well be a hundred if you are doing time for a crime you didn’t commit, he said. He had a passion in his voice when he said it. It tipped me toward his corner, toward thoughts that maybe he was indeed innocent.
I looked at Forsythe and shook my head.
“Andre’s not getting cold feet,” I said. “He still says he didn’t do it and still wants to see if you can prove he did.”
“So no deal, then.”
“No deal.”
“Then, I guess I’ll see you at jury selection, May sixth.”
That was the date Leggoe had set for the start of the trial. She was giving us four days max to pick a jury and a day for lastminute motions and opening statements. The real show would start the following week, when the prosecution began its case.
“Oh, you might see me before that. You never know.”
I snapped my briefcase closed and headed toward the steel door to the holding cell. The court deputy escorted me back and I found La Cosse waiting alone in the cell.
“We’ll be moving him back in fifteen,” the deputy said.
“Okay, thanks,” I said.
“Knock when you’re ready to come out.”
I waited until the deputy went back through the courtroom door before turning and looking at my client through the bars.
“Andre, I’m worried. It doesn’t look like you’re eating.”
“I’m not eating. How could anyone eat when they’re in here for something they didn’t do? Besides, the food is fucking horrible. I just want to go home.”
I nodded.
“I know, I know.”
“You are going to win this, aren’t you?”
“I’m going to give it my best shot. But just so you know, the DA is still floating a deal out there if you want me to pursue it.”
La Cosse emphatically shook his head.
“I don’t even want to hear what it is. No deal.”
“That’s what I thought. So we go to trial.”
“What if we win the motion to suppress?”
I shrugged.
“Don’t get your hopes up on that. I told you, it’s a long shot. You have to expect that we are going to go to trial.”
La Cosse lowered his head until his forehead was against one of the bars that separated us. He looked like he was going to cry.
“Look, I know I’m not a good guy,” he said. “I did a lot of bad things in my life. But I didn’t do this. I didn’t.”
“And I’m going to do my best to prove it, Andre. You can count on that.”
He drew his head up to look at me eye to eye and nodded.
“That’s what Giselle said. That she could count on you.”
“She said that? Count on me for what?”
“You know, like if anything happened to her, she knew she could count on you to not let it go by.”
I paused for a moment. In the past five months La Cosse and I had had limited communication. He was in jail and I was working a full caseload. We spoke when together for court hearings and during occasional phone calls from the pink module, where he was housed at Men’s Central. Even so, I thought I had gotten everything I needed from him in order to defend him at trial. But what he had just said was new information, and it gave me pause because it was about Gloria Dayton, who still remained an enigma to me.
“Why did she tell you that?”
La Cosse shook his head slightly, as though he didn’t understand the urgency I had put into my voice.
“I don’t know. We were just talking once and she mentioned you. You know, like if anything happens to me, then Mickey Mantle will go to bat for me.”
“When did she say that?”
“I don’t remember. She just said it. She said to make sure to let you know.”
With my one free hand I gripped one of the bars and moved closer to my client.
“You told me you came to me because she said I was a good lawyer. You didn’t tell me any of this other stuff.”
“I had just been arrested for murder and was scared shitless. I wanted you to take my case.”
I held myself back from reaching through the bars and grabbing him by the collar of his jumpsuit.
“Andre, listen to me. I want you to tell me exactly what she said. Use her words.”
“She just said that if something happened to her, I had to promise to tell you. And then something did happen and I got arrested. So I called you.”
“How close was this conversation to when she was murdered?”
“I can’t remember exactly.”
“Days? Weeks? Months? Come on, Andre. It could be important.”
“I don’t know. A week, maybe longer. I can’t remember because being in this place, all the noise and the lights on all the time and the animals, it wears you down and you start losing your mind. I can’t remember things, I don’t even remember what my mother looks like anymore.”
“Okay, calm down. You think about this on the bus ride and when you’re back in your own cell. I want you to remember exactly when this conversation took place. Okay?”
“I’ll try but I don’t know.”
“Okay, you try. I have to go now. I’ll be seeing you before the trial. There’s still a lot of prep work to be done.”
“Okay. And I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For getting you upset about Giselle. I can tell you are.”
“Don’t worry about it. Just make sure you eat the food they give you tonight. I want you to look strong for the trial. You promise me?”
La Cosse reluctantly nodded.
“I promise.”
I headed back to the steel door.
12
I walked back through the courtroom with my head down, oblivious of the hearing that Judge Leggoe had started following ours. I moved toward the rear exit, pondering the story La Cosse had just told me, that he had reached out to me following his arrest because Gloria Dayton had wanted me to know if something happened to her, not necessarily because she thought I should be his attorney. There was a significant difference in the stories and it helped ease the burden I’d carried for months in regard to Gloria. But did she want me to get this message so I would avenge her, or was it to warn me about some unseen danger? The questions put a new complexion on how I viewed things about Gloria and even myself. I now realized that Gloria might have known or at least feared that she was in danger.