“Fat lot of good that will do.”
Steve shook his head. “You’re wrong. You don’t have to take the fall for this, Fitzpatrick. You stand up in court tomorrow, you tell the judge all this comes as a complete surprise to you. You were caught flat-footed, taken aback and feel you cannot continue with the proceedings. You ask permission to withdraw from the case.”
Fitzpatrick shook his head. “No, I don’t.”
“Why not?”
“I’m mad as hell, but I’m not a quitter. That would be unfair to our client and unfair to you.” He pointed his finger at Steve. “Don’t make any mistake, I’m pissed as hell. If you think I’d ever handle another case with you, you’re out of your mind. But as far as this case goes, I’m sticking it out, sink or swim. So get your shit together and figure out what the hell you’re gonna do. On the off chance you should happen to, do me the favor of letting me know.”
Fitzpatrick stood up. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to get back to my firm and see if I’m still senior partner or if the other partners got together and voted me out.”
Fitzpatrick pushed past Tracy Garvin and went out, slamming the door.
“Can’t blame him a bit,” Steve said.
Taylor sighed. “That’s a fact. Oh, Jesus Christ, what the hell are we going to do?”
“It’s bad, Mark, but it ain’t over yet.”
Taylor collapsed into the chair. “That’s easy for you to say. You know the law. I don’t know shit. The way I see it, they got me dead to rights, I lost my license, and I’m up shit creek.”
“You haven’t lost anything yet.”
“So what’s my defense? The devil made me do it? My attorney made me do it? That ain’t gonna cut no ice.”
“I know how you feel.”
Taylor looked at him. “Do you? You’re an actor all your life. You’re used to losing one job after another, bouncing from place to place. Me, what do I know? Football and this. If it weren’t for the injury, if I’d played pro a year or two, I could have had a name, maybe opened a small restaurant. Or got a job on the radio doin’ play-by-play. As it is, this is all I know. Fifteen years now. I’m not trained for anything else.” He shook his head. “I just don’t know what the hell I’d do.”
“It ain’t over till it’s over.”
“Great. Thanks, Yogi. Sorry to piss and moan. You got your own problems. But, Jesus Christ.”
Taylor stood up. “I’m gonna get back to the office. See if anything’s come in that will help. Like a plane ticket out of the country.”
“It’s not that bad, Mark.”
“No,” Taylor said flatly. “Of course not.”
Mark Taylor went out. Steve leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes.
He felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Tracy standing next to him. Her eyes were misted over. “I’m sorry,” she said.
“I know,” Steve said. He sighed. “It’s my own damn fault. I shouldn’t have done it.”
“No. You should. You did right.”
Steve looked at her. “I did?”
“Of course you did. You have to fight for your client. That comes first.”
Steve looked at her for a moment. Chuckled. Shook his head.
“What’s so funny?” Tracy said.
“You. That’s the thing about you. You think I did right because you like our client. That’s the bottom line. You like her, so anything I did for her is okay in your book. If you didn’t like her, you’d think I was a total schmuck. Remember how you felt in the Jeremy Dawson case?”
“You didn’t do anything like this in the Jeremy Dawson case.”
“That’s for damn sure. If I had, you’d have pinned my ears back but good.” Steve exhaled heavily. “Jesus, what a fucking mess.”
“So what can you do?” Tracy said.
“Do?”
“Yeah,” Tracy said. “We’ve been kicked in the teeth and we all feel bad. But it’s not like you to just quit. So tell me, what the hell can you do?”
Steve shook his head. “I don’t know. Believe me, I really don’t know.” He rubbed his head, then looked back up at her. Managed a small smile. “The way I see it, there’s only one saving grace in the whole thing.”
Tracy frowned. “What’s that?”
“Dirkson reopened his case.”
43
Judge Wallingsford looked down from his bench at the packed courtroom. He frowned, cleared his throat. “All right,” he said. “Before we bring in the jury and proceed, let’s attempt to determine where we are. Mr. Dirkson, when we left off yesterday you had just completed your direct examination of the witness, Marcie Keller.”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“Where is the witness now?”
“She is in police custody, Your Honor.”
“Has she been charged?”
“She is being held as a material witness.”
“But she’s already been a witness.”
“It’s entirely possible we may recall her, Your Honor. It’s also entirely possible she may be charged.”
“With what?”
“Withholding evidence. Obstruction of justice. Aiding and abetting. Possibly even as an accessory to the crime.”
“But she has not been charged as yet?”
“No, Your Honor. Nor have any of the other principals in this matter. Mark Taylor, Steve Winslow or Harold Fitzpatrick.”
Judge Wallingsford frowned. Steve Winslow rose to his feet. Judge Wallingsford held up his hand. “Hold on, Mr. Winslow. I’ll handle this.” Judge Wallingsford turned back to Dirkson. His face was stern. “Mr. Dirkson, this is neither the proper time nor the proper place for such remarks. Remarks that have no bearing on the present proceedings and were in my opinion intended solely for the benefit of the public and the press. What you have alluded to may be a matter for the Bar Association, but it has no place here. And I warn you, if you make any remarks of that kind in the presence of the jury, any allegations of misconduct about the defense attorneys, any allusions to the fact that they might possibly be charged with a crime, you would be in serious danger of forcing me to declare a mistrial. You are the district attorney, and I should not have to point this out to you. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“Now, if you were informing me that charges had been brought, that is something I might need to know. But alluding to the fact that charges might be brought is the type of insinuation and innuendo that is associated with the tabloid press and has no place in my courtroom. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“Fine,” Judge Wallingsford said. “Let’s see if we can proceed. Two days ago the defendant was on the stand and had concluded her direct examination. Due to the peculiar turns this case has taken, she has yet to be cross-examined by the prosecution. I would hope that could be accomplished this morning, once these other matters have been set aside.
“When we left off yesterday, the witness Marcie Keller was on the stand, and had concluded her direct examination. You say she is in police custody, Mr. Dirkson?”
“That’s right, Your Honor.”
“I trust she is available to us?”
“Certainly, Your Honor. The officers are just awaiting your order to bring her in.”
“Fine. Before we do so-Mr. Winslow, Mr. Fitzpatrick, may I ask if you intend to cross-examine this witness?”
Steve Winslow stood up. “We do not, Your Honor.”
“That simplifies things,” Judge Wallingsford said. “Then there is no need to have her in. Bring in the jury, and return the defendant to the stand.”
Steve Winslow was still on his feet. “Before you do, Your Honor, while I have no questions of Miss Keller, at this time I would like to recall one of the other prosecution witnesses for cross-examination.”
Dirkson jumped up. “Objection, Your Honor. That’s out of order. The prosecution has rested its case.”
“You reopened your case to put Marcie Keller on the stand, and you’ve not yet rested it again. I think the court reporter will bear me out on that.”