Jacobson complied. Stone looked ready to object again.
“I see a directory labeled ‘Anderson’. What does that directory contain?”
“That contains pleadings that you have filed, correspondence you have sent us, and,” Jacobson couldn’t resist, “some of the court orders concerning your misconduct.” A wide smile broke across his thin face. Kevin decided Jacobson had been spending too much time with Bradford Stone.
“Would you mind double clicking on that so we can see the sub-directories?”
“Certainly not, counselor.”
Kevin studied the screen as a new group of directories were listed. He felt nervous as he frantically looked for something with which to continue his line of questioning. He feared another relevancy objection was seconds away. Then he saw something odd.
“I see a subdirectory called ‘search’. Could you please double click on that so we may see what files are contained in that subdirectory?”
“Madam President,” Stone bellowed. “This is absurd. Are we to sit here all afternoon looking aimlessly through the computer?”
Jacobson, however, had once again forged ahead and displayed the contents of the “search” sub-directory on the screens throughout the courtroom. When he saw that, Stone rose again. “I’m instructing the witness not to respond to Mr. Anderson’s requests until the Court has ruled on my objection.”
Jacobson quickly clicked back out of the “search” sub-directory.
Judge Orozco looked over at Kevin. “Mr. Anderson?”
Kevin looked up from the screen. “You asked me to be specific, Madam President. I am being specific. I have asked for a specific sub-directory and I am about to ask for a specific file.”
“Very well. Objection overruled. You may continue.”
Kevin breathed a sigh of relief. Once again he had spotted something in his frantic scanning of the file names. “Please reopen the ‘search’ subdirectory, and then open the file called ‘memo1’.”
Jacobson complied. A document appeared on the courtroom screens. It was a memo from Kevin to Draga, outlining their pretrial strategy. It had been seized during the search of Kevin’s house when he had been suspected of delivering confidential material to Zoran Vacinovic.
“Where did this document come from?”
“Objection!” Stone shot to his feet. “This is irrelevant. It’s a pure fishing expedition.”
“Where are you going with this Mr. Anderson?” Judge Orozco asked, a touch of impatience in her voice.
“If you will let the witness answer this one question, I think you will see.”
“All right. The objection is overruled, for now.”
All eyes turned to Jacobson. “It came from the search of your residence, Mr. Anderson. You ought to know that.”
“Have you reviewed the documents that came from that search as part of your thorough preparation of this case?”
“Of course. Mr. Stone and I have reviewed every document in this computer in preparation for trial.”
“Thank you.” Turning to the judges, Kevin continued. “Your Honors, when I challenged the search of my residence, the prosecution represented to this Court that it had erected a `Chinese wall’ and that none of the material seized from that search would be seen by any members of the prosecution team in this case. Judge Davidson ordered the material and all copies returned to me. Now we have found out that they violated your order.”
Kevin looked at Judge Davidson. “Remember?”
Judge Davidson leaned forward. “There’s nothing wrong with my memory, counsel.” He shifted his glare towards the prosecutor. “What about this, Mr. Stone?”
Stone was whispering furiously to Charles Oswald. “Your Honors,” Stone rose hesitatingly from his seat, “I don’t recall exactly what Mr. Anderson is referring to. He’s filed several pretrial motions, all of them without merit.”
Stone looked disdainfully at Kevin, then at Judge Davidson.
“I remember it,” Judge Davidson said, his voice rising in volume. “You represented that no one on the prosecution team would have access to the materials which were seized. I ordered you to return those materials. This document on the screen looks like it’s covered by the attorney-client privilege. And now we hear that you and your investigator have retained it and reviewed it.”
“Your Honor, perhaps there was a glitch in our office procedures. But we have not introduced any of these documents into evidence, so there is no harm to the accused. It’s his counsel who has chosen to now display this document to the public.”
Judge Davidson’s face got red. “Mr. Stone, I’m sick and tired of hearing you shift the blame to defense counsel whenever you are called to account. This is a serious matter and you have apparently acted improperly.”
Turning to Kevin, Judge Davidson was equally gruff. “On the other hand, Mr. Anderson, no materials from the search have been brought in to this trial except by you just now. So I don’t see how your case is prejudiced by the misconduct of the prosecution. Go on to another line of questioning.”
“But, Your Honor, the prosecutor’s access to attorney-client privileged materials in their trial preparation is improper, even if they don’t introduce the seized documents themselves. I move for dismissal of the charges against Mr. Zaric, and request an evidentiary hearing on the matter.”
“Motion denied,” Judge Davidson growled. He looked over at the prosecution table. “I’m not happy about this, Mr. Stone.”
Stone tried to make light of the criticism. “Well, it’s only strike one for us. Mr. Anderson’s already got two strikes.”
Judge Davidson ignored Stone and sat back in his chair, his face wrinkled in a frown.
Judge Orozco leaned forward “Do you have any further questions for this witness?”
Kevin clenched his teeth. These prosecutors could get away with anything in this court. They had just violated the attorney-client privilege as well as searching Kevin’s home without probable cause. And they had gotten away with it. Judge Davidson has acted as if it was Kevin’s fault for bringing it up.
“Yes, Madam President, I do.” He turned to Jacobson, who did not look in the least bit chastised. “Let’s go back to the main directory.”
Jacobson complied.
Kevin was really fishing now, his mind frantically trying to recall his other pretrial motions that the prosecution had made factual representations about. Then he remembered the motion that claimed that Draga’s kidnapping and arrest had been orchestrated by the U.N. forces.
“Mr. Jacobson, do you keep a time log or other record of the time you have spent on this investigation?”
“Of course. My bosses and Mr. Stone here always want to know what I have been doing with my time.” He chuckled at his own attempt at humor.
“Could you please open the directory that contains those time records?”
“Certainly.” Jacobson scrolled to the Time Slips program and opened the directory. Dates were listed for the past three years.
“Could you please open the file for July 21st?”
Stone was on his feet. “Objection, Madam President. This is completely irrelevant.”
Judge Orozco shook her head. “Let’s see where this is going for a little longer.”
Jacobson opened the file. “What does it show you doing on that day?”
“I was in Bucharest, Romania, doing investigation.”
“Did Mr. Stone know where you were and what you were doing?”
“Of course.”
“What were you doing in Romania two days before Mr. Zaric’s kidnapping and arrest?”
Jacobson did a double take. His eyes met Kevin’s for an instant, and then darted to Stone. Kevin knew that Jacobson had now recognized the trap. If the U.N. had no knowledge of Draga’s kidnapping until the kidnappers dumped him at the Romanian border, how could Jacobson explain his presence in Romania two days before the kidnapping?
Stone started to rise to object, then thought the better of it. He, too, realized the relevance of the question. He left it to Jacobson to wriggle his way out on his own.