“Yes.” Her façade finally broke. Tears welled in her eyes. “They won’t let me see him.”
“I’ll make arrangements for a visit over the weekend.”
“Is there any chance that the judge will grant bail?”
“Probably not in the next couple of days. We’ll try again on Monday at the prelim.”
She dabbed her eyes. “Gio said that the D.A. offered a plea bargain.”
“They did. Voluntary manslaughter. Three years with an opportunity for early release after two and a half.”
Her eyes were clear. “Take it.”
“Maria—,”
“You heard me. I want you to take the deal.”
“Johnny would have to plead guilty. He would have a criminal record for the rest of his life.”
“It’s better than fifty years or more.”
“He shot Jones in self-defense.”
“I know, but it doesn’t matter. Juries are unpredictable. It has to stop. I can’t live like this.”
“I talked to Johnny about it. He doesn’t want to accept the deal.”
“Then I need you to talk him into it.”
“I can try, but I can’t make any promises.”
“You’re very persuasive.”
I wasn’t so sure. “Gio was against a plea bargain, too.”
“He’s stubborn.”
So are you. “It’s Johnny’s call. If he takes the deal, he’ll lose his job, and he’ll never get another one in law enforcement.”
“I don’t care.” Her eyes narrowed. “And if you can get Johnny to tell you the truth, he doesn’t care, either.”
“What do you mean?”
She took a deep breath. “He never wanted to be a cop. He did it for his father.”
I paused to process this new information. “How long have you known?”
“Forever.”
It reminded me of Pete. My mom always said that he went to the Academy just to show our father that he was as tough as he was. “It’s a demanding job for somebody who doesn’t really want to do it.” It’s also dangerous.
“Gio can be very demanding.”
“What did Johnny want to do?”
“He wanted to design video games. He did a couple of prototypes in college. I’m no expert, but his friends told me that they were pretty good.”
I hadn’t anticipated this wrinkle. “Does Gio know about this?”
“Yes.”
“He was still okay with Johnny becoming a cop?”
“It’s the family business. Besides, Gio thinks he knows what’s best for everybody.”
Interesting. “Did any of your other sons want to do something other than police work?”
“A couple.” She shrugged. “It doesn’t really matter anymore, does it?”
“I guess not.”
“Use your influence with Johnny, Mike. I don’t want to lose my son.”
45
“WHERE DOES THAT LEAVE YOU?”
Rosie gripped the steering wheel of her Prius as we drove across the Golden Gate Bridge at one-thirty on Saturday morning. “Didn’t see that coming,” she said.
“Neither did I.”
The rain had stopped, and I could see the twinkling lights of San Francisco in the distance. The reassuring beacon of Alcatraz rotated in the middle of the Bay in the middle of the night.
“Thanks for coming with Maria,” I said.
“I didn’t want her to be alone.”
“You did the right thing. Did she say anything to you about Gio?”
“They aren’t talking much.”
“They’re both under an insane amount of stress.”
“I don’t think they’ve ever really talked things out.”
“People deal with things differently.”
She nodded. “My parents handled things their own way. My dad never said much. And you know that my mom isn’t shy about expressing her opinions.”
“Indeed.” We Daleys aired our grievances every night at the dinner table until my mom would declare a truce by informing us that she had heard enough complaining for one night.
“Where does that leave you?” she asked.
“I’ll talk to Johnny about the plea deal again. I don’t think he’ll go for it.”
“Would you take it?”
I answered her honestly. “Probably not. You know me—always the idealist. I don’t like the idea of somebody confessing to a crime he didn’t commit.”
“Might be the best deal you’re going to get. You still planning to start the prelim on Monday?”
“Unless Johnny changes his mind and takes the deal. For now, that’s our only chance to stop this before we go to trial.”
“What are the odds?”
“Not great.”
Rosie reached over and touched my hand. “Any word from Pete?”
“No.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
“If you have a little time on Sunday, I might want to run a few things by you for a reality check for the prelim.”
“I’ll make time.”
Beautiful Rosie. “Thanks, Rosita.”
“You’re welcome. Are you planning to go see Johnny in the morning?”
“Yes, but I’m planning to go to Tommy’s basketball game first. Johnny’s case will still be there.”
“So will the protesters.”
“Nothing I can do about that.”
“Doesn’t it bother you?”
“Of course, but a very wise person once told me that it’s a waste of time and energy to worry about things that you can’t control.”
“Who was that brilliant philosopher?”
“You.”
46
“IT’S HARD TO SAY NO TO MY DAD”
Johnny’s eyes gleamed. “I thought I made myself clear.”
“Hear me out.”
“No deal.”
We were sitting on uncomfortable plastic chairs in a consultation room in the visitor area of the Hall at ten-thirty on Saturday morning. Reality had returned after I had watched Tommy’s basketball team win in a rout. Tommy had scored fifteen points before the coach pulled him. I still had hopes that he might become the first member of the Daley family to dunk.
“Did your dad come to see you?” I asked.
“Yes. They finally let him inside.”
“He’s worried, Johnny. So is your mom. I’m going to try to get her a visitor pass tomorrow.”
“That would be good.”
“Your dad is over in the Fillmore with Pete looking for witnesses. There’s going to be another march today.”
His lips turned down. “I hope they can keep things under control.”
“There will be a lot of cops.”
“It just takes one crackpot with a gun.”
True. “Did you know either of the officers who died?”
“No, but my dad did. They were good cops.” His eyes turned down. “All this crap started because of a stupid traffic stop.”
“Stuff happens, Johnny.”
“Right.”
“We can stop this tomorrow.”
“I’m not taking a plea bargain.”
“You’ll be out in a maximum of three years. Less with good behavior. It’s a good deal.”
“It doesn’t change anything. My dad would never forgive me if I take the deal. That’s not how we roll.”
I’m not so sure. I clenched my fist. “Your mother came to see me last night.”
He paused. “Let me guess: she wants me to take the deal.”
“Yes, she does.”
“She’s okay having her son plead guilty to murder?”
“Manslaughter. It resolves this case and caps your legal exposure.”
“I’d be a convicted felon. And I would plead guilty to a crime that I didn’t commit. I shot Jones in self-defense.”
“I believe you.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Then why are you pushing so hard for m
e to take the deal?”
“For the same reason as your mother. You’ll understand it better when you have children. You always err on the side of safety and predictability. That’s why Rosie and I weren’t crazy about it when Grace decided to be a film major at USC. We might have been a little happier if she had studied engineering at Cal.”
“I understand where my mother is coming from. My dad and my brothers are cops. She spends her life worrying about us.”
“You can eliminate her need to worry about you.”
“I can’t do it, Mike. I’m not going to confess to a crime that I didn’t commit. My dad would never get over it. Besides, I’ll lose my job.”
“Your mom said that you never wanted to be a cop. She said that you did it to please your dad.”
“She really said that?”
“Yes.” I lowered my voice. “Is it true?”
“It was always expected of my brothers and me. We got the message and stayed in our lane. We’d go to the Academy after we graduated from college. My dad always said that if any of us didn’t like it, we could do something else, but he didn’t mean it.”
“Did any of your brothers want to do something else?”
“A couple. It’s hard to say no to my dad.”
I got it. My dad was less than enthusiastic about my decision to become a priest. He was really unhappy when I left the priesthood to go to law school. He barely spoke to me for a couple of years after I started working as a P.D. “Your mom said that you’re interested in technology.”
“I am.”
“Might be an alternative career path for you someday.”
“Someday.”
“Do me a favor and give this a little more thought?”
“I will. Where are you off to now?”
“The Fillmore. I need to talk to my brother and your father.”
47
“WORKING ON IT”
Gio took a sip of bitter coffee from a paper cup emblazoned with the Golden Arches. Wearing a navy windbreaker over a powder-blue shirt, he looked like a caged tiger, but his voice was quiet. “They let me see Johnny this morning.”
“I know. I just saw him.”
“Did he say anything to you about the plea bargain?”
“He doesn’t want to take it. I asked him to think about it a little more. He’ll be ready to go on Monday.”
Gio’s eyes hardened. “So will I.”
Gio, Pete, and I were sitting in a booth in the McDonald’s on Fillmore, across the street from Northern Station. Like the streets outside, the restaurant was quiet. The rain had stopped, but the sky was overcast—matching my mood. Pete was hunched over the table. He’d said barely a word since I arrived.
“Were you here all night?” I asked.
Gio nodded. “Yeah. It was relatively quiet.” He pointed at a patrol car parked on Fillmore. “There are police units everywhere. Show of force.”
Sounds like a good idea. “Are you expecting trouble again today?”
“Yes. Reverend Tucker is leading a march from City Hall to First Union. There’s another pro-cop gathering at Jefferson Square. The white supremacists applied for a permit for a rally at Crissy Field, but the mayor said no.”
“Good call.”
“They’ll show up anyway.”
“They’ll be arrested.”
“Depends how many show up. We’ve been watching Twitter and Facebook. They’re anticipating a crowd of ten thousand.”
“There aren’t that many sympathizers around here.”
“You’d be amazed. They come from other cities. Even if the crowd is small, they’ll probably try to provoke an overreaction from SFPD.”
“Then they’ll get their heads pounded—which they deserve.”
The corner of his mouth turned up. “Seems pretty harsh for a bleeding-heart free-speech guy who went to college and law school over in the People’s Republic of Berkeley.”
“My dad and brother were cops. I draw the line at neo-Nazis.” I nibbled on a French fry. “Can SFPD keep a lid on this?”
“If we can keep the groups separated. If not, things could get out of hand.” He finished his coffee. “At the moment, it’s out of my control. Did the judge reconsider our request for bail?”
“No.”
“Dammit.” He sat in silence for an interminable moment. He lowered his voice. “If Johnny was your kid, would you tell him to take the deal?”
I exchanged a glance with Pete, who quickly resumed staring at his coffee. I looked at my high school classmate and answered him honestly. “I’d probably tell him to take it. It isn’t a perfect result, but it will resolve his case and provide certainty. He’s only twenty-two, Gio. He’ll be out before he’s twenty-five. He’s a smart kid who has his whole life ahead of him.”
“He’s a fighter.”
“Sometimes you need to pick your fights.”
“He’ll lose his job.”
“Realistically, he already has.”
Gio drummed his fingers on the table. “For what it’s worth, I told him to take the deal.”
Huh? “You’re okay with him pleading guilty to a felony?”
“He’s my kid. I want him to be safe.”
“He told me that you pushed him to be a cop.”
“I did. And now it’s time for him not to be a cop. Even if they drop the charges, Johnny is going to be a sitting duck. He shot a guy in self-defense, but now he’s a symbol of police brutality and racism. You’re a good lawyer, Mike, but sometimes, you need to cut your losses and get out of the spotlight.”
It was sound advice. “Johnny was worried that you would be upset if he took the deal.”
“And everybody says that I’m the stubborn one. I’ll be more upset if he’s convicted of murder.
“You should talk to him again.”
“I will.”
“We still have a couple of days. In the meantime, it would help if you guys can find somebody who can verify that Jones had a gun.”
“Working on it.”
“I saw Dwayne on the plaza. Any chance he might have something for us?”
Gio shot a glance at Pete. “Working on it.”
✽✽✽
A few minutes later, I was walking up Fillmore past the Subway. The rain had stopped, and the sun was peeking out from behind the clouds. The air was crisp. The usually bustling area was a ghost town. There were more cops than pedestrians. The businesses were closed. Windows were covered with plywood. Police barricades closed the street to traffic.
I pulled out my iPhone and punched in Roosevelt’s number. He answered on the first ring. “Haven’t heard from you since yesterday,” he said. “Where are you?”
“Looking for witnesses in the Fillmore.”
“You should get out of there. There’s going to be trouble.”
“I can handle it.”
“No, you can’t. Besides, you aren’t going to find any more witnesses who can help you. If I couldn’t find them, you won’t, either.”
Probably true.
He was still talking. “I understand that our D.A. has offered a plea bargain.”
“We’re considering it.”
“Consider it harder.”
“Do you have any additional evidence that you’d like to share with me?”
“We think that Jones was delivering the AK-47s to Tarik Meredith.”
Meredith was one of the bigger drug dealers in town. “I didn’t know that Meredith had branched out into weapons.”
“Seems he’s expanding his operations. The fact that Jones was a small-time runner for a big-time operator has no bearing on your client’s case.”
Probably not. “It demonstrates that Jones was a bad guy.”
“No doubt, but your client didn’t know about the AK-47s until after the fact. It’s also still illegal to shoot a bad guy when his hands are up.”
“It was self-defense. Johnny saw a gun.”
“Nobody else did. And you can’t see it on the video.”
“We’ll find a witness.”
“Then we’ll have something to discuss.” He cleared his throat. “Take the deal, Mike.”
✽✽✽
I was walking by the Fillmore Auditorium when I saw a familiar face heading toward me. Jerry Edwards was wearing a soiled trench coat. If I hadn’t known him, I might have mistaken him for a homeless person. He trudged with his head down, cigarette in his hand, cell phone pressed to his ear. He was probably berating somebody.
I was hoping that he wouldn’t notice me, but he looked up just in time. His thin lips formed a crooked smile. He ended his call, tossed his cigarette into the street, and spoke to me in his usual guttural voice. “Didn’t expect to run into you here.”
“Didn’t expect to see you, either, Jerry.”
“I heard the City is going to settle the civil case with Jones’s mother.”
“Don’t know anything about it,” I lied. “Even if that’s true, it doesn’t impact our case.”
“I understand that the D.A. offered you a plea bargain.”
“Who told you that?”
“No comment.”
It wouldn’t have surprised me if Ward or Harper had leaked this news to Edwards.
He let out a violent hack. “You gonna take the deal?”
“No comment.”
“Are you denying that there’s a plea deal on the table?”
“No comment.”
“If there is, I think that’s lousy. Your client shot an unarmed kid. The legal system should take its course.”
I was tempted to explain that Jones worked for one of the biggest drug kingpins in town, but there was nothing to be gained. It had no legal bearing on our case, and he might have written that I had suggested that Jones deserved to die. “I gotta get back to work, Jerry.”
I was about to walk around him when I heard blaring sirens and a roar followed by a crash. Instinctively, I ducked and put a hand up in front of my face. A black SUV had barreled through the police barricade and was heading toward us. A police unit was in pursuit. Feeling a rush of adrenaline, I rammed my shoulder into the door of the Fillmore Auditorium and pulled Edwards inside. We dove into the lobby as the SUV screeched to a halt about ten feet from us. The passenger-side window rolled down and I could see a man whose face was covered.
Edwards and I ran across the lobby and dove behind the refreshment counter. An instant later, I heard popping sounds. I looked up and realized that the man in the car was firing indiscriminately across the empty lobby. Then I heard the voices of cops ordering him to halt. More shots. More shouts.
Higher Law Boxset, Volume 3 Page 43