Back to Brooklyn

by Lawrence Kelter

  The alarm clock blared, fracturing the moment as if a pane of glass had shattered. “Oh shit! Court!” he blurted and scrambled out of bed, leaving Lisa struggling to awaken. “Get up,” he hollered,” as he stepped into the shower. “We slept the whole night. I ain’t prepared.”

  Lisa hit the clock and rolled over, feeling supremely rested and satisfied. “It was worth it,” she said, her response practically incoherent, her brain saturated with endorphins.

  “Help me get ready,” he said calling over the torrent of water cascading upon him in the shower.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she responded, grousing about having to leave Eden behind. “Keep your pants on. I’m coming.”

  ***

  “Turn right here,” Vinny directed from the passenger seat as they closed in on the courthouse.

  “Where? Right here?” Lisa asked, already braking, her hands poised to turn the wheel.

  Vinny had his books open on his lap, studying precedents and points of law as they drove. “Yeah. Atlantic Avenue. Right here.”

  Lisa turned as if she were taking a hairpin turn on the racecourse at Le Mans. Vinny’s books went flying.

  “Are you nuts?”

  “Yeah, I’m nuts? You’re the one who’s in such a damn hurry to get to court.”

  “I told you I need time to prepare on account we passed out after having sex last night and didn’t wake up until this morning.”

  “Yeah? You got a complaint about last night?” She took her hands off the wheel and held them out as if she were ready to be handcuffed. “Oh my God. I wanted to make love to my fiancé. Lock me up and throw away the friggin’ key.”

  “Lisa, just stop it and put your hands back on the wheel. I already explained that I wanted to get to court early so that I didn’t feel rushed.”

  “And it’s my fault the BQE was bumper-to-bumper? I told you we should’ve taken the subway. Relax. Would ya? I can see the court building from here. I’ll pull up in front. You can get out while I go park the car.”

  He stuffed his books into his briefcase and had a leg out the door as they pulled up to the building. “I’ll see you inside. Go park the car.”

  She grabbed him by the shoulder and yanked him toward her before he could get out, planting a big kiss on his cheek before letting go. “Break a leg. Don’t worry. You’ll be great!”

  ***

  Vinny was at his table completely set up and ready before the ADA arrived. Spectators had just begun to file into the courtroom when he heard, “Psst.”

  Lisa was standing in the public section with a look of urgency on her face trying desperately to get his attention.

  He slapped the sides of his legs with exasperation and mumbled, “Now what?” He hurried over to her. “What, Lisa? Can’t you see that I’m—”

  She handed him a sticky note. “This must’ve fallen out of your briefcase when I turned and everything went on the floor. I think it’s important.”

  “Oh shit!” He knew what it was without reading it. He’d written the note before leaving the arraignment for Aidan Boydetto. “Crap!”

  “What is it?”

  “Damn. I was so worried about Theresa’s court date that I completely forgot about the other one.”

  “Which other one?”

  “The one for the guy who wrote the bad check.”

  “So? When is it?”

  He checked his watch. “It started five minutes ago in the courtroom upstairs.”

  “You got the file with you?”

  “I think so, yeah. It should be in my briefcase.”

  “Then hurry your ass and get up there. You got twenty-five minutes to get upstairs, handle the other preliminary hearing, and get back down here before Theresa’s case is called.”

  He started toward the table where his briefcase rested when Lisa yelled. “I’ll get the fuckin’ file. You get the fuck upstairs.”

  ***

  Vinny arrived in the upstairs courtroom panting and out of breath.

  Judge Finch cut him down with a scorching gaze as he hurried down the aisle to the table where Boydetto was already waiting.

  Doucette looked at Vinny, tapped his watch, and shrugged.

  Vinny slapped his client on the shoulder. “How you doing? All right?”

  Finch drummed her fingers on the bench. “Nice of you to grace this courtroom with your presence, Mr. Gambini. I hope we’re not taking you away from anything important.”

  Vinny lowered his head, groveling. “My apologies, Your Honor. I left in time to get here early but the BQE was bumper to bumper. I’m very sorry, Judge.”

  “Are you prepared to begin immediately?” she asked.

  Vinny nodded.

  “Fantastic,” she said sarcastically. “Mr. Doucette,” she began as she turned toward the ADA. “We’re ready…finally.”

  Doucette was a busy man with a completely unmanageable caseload. It was apparent as he read from his notes that he considered Boydetto’s case a nuisance and wasn’t going to spend one minute more of his precious time on it than necessary. He read in a dead-flat disinterested monotone. “Your Honor, the accused is charged with passing a bad check at Speedy Check Cashers at ten-twenty-five Eighteenth Avenue in the borough of Brooklyn. The cashier became alarmed when the accused refused to furnish photo ID. The cashier subsequently called a security guard. The entire event was captured on videotape. The people…”

  “Psst! Psst!”

  Vinny turned to see Lisa waving at him furiously with a file in her hand just as the judge howled, “Oh dear God. Her again.” She refocused on Vinny. “Mr. Gambini,” she barked.

  He responded meekly, “Yes, Judge?”

  Her eyes were wide with rage. “Who the hell is that, and why is she waving at you like a long lost sibling you were separated from at birth?”

  “That’s my legal assistant, Ms. Vito, Your Honor. You see, in my haste to get here on time—”

  She interjected, “Which you didn’t accomplish.”

  “Yeah. Like I said, I’m sorry, because in my haste I left my case file in my car. As you can see, Ms. Vito retrieved it for me and has it with her now. Do you mind if I go…get it?”

  “Sure. Why not,” Finch said. “We’re already behind. Take all the time you need, Mr. Gambini. Have a cocktail while you’re at it.”

  Several people in the audience laughed at her remark.

  Vinny bowed slightly before hurrying off to Lisa. She extended the file toward him, which was open, and pointed to two areas she had circled in red. He nodded, grabbed the file, and walked back to his table, studying Lisa’s notations along the way.

  “Are you finally ready, Mr. Gambini?”

  He was so captivated by what he read that he missed the judge’s question.

  She banged the gavel twice. “Mr. Gambini, may we proceed?”

  He looked up while using his finger to keep place on the file. “Yes, Your Honor. Go ahead.”

  His eyes were back on the file and missed the judge’s infuriated expression. She turned to Doucette. “Continue.”

  Vinny was lost in thought while the ADA finished his argument, not hearing a single word he said. He didn’t stop reading until he detected that the courtroom was silent and felt the judge’s eyes searing a hole right through him.

  “Let me catch you up,” she said scolding him. “Because this infraction concerns a very small amount of money, Mr. Doucette has opted not to call any witnesses which would only waste the court’s time and the taxpayers’ money. I’ll hear from you now,” she continued with a raised eyebrow. “That is if you have time for us.”

  “Your Honor, my client is not guilty by reason of the fact that he has a long and documented history of dissociative personality disorder.”

  Finch leaned forward and thatched her fingers. “Dissociative what?”

  “Let me explain,” he said. “Dissociative personality disorder is the new term psychology professionals use for multiple personality disorder.”

  “I kno
w that,” she said.

  “Oh, you do? That’s good.”

  “Of course I do—you just caught me off guard. Are you serious about proceeding with an insanity defense on a token misdemeanor charge?”

  “Yes, Your Honor.”

  “Why am I not surprised,” she muttered. “Proceed.”

  “Thank you. As I mentioned the defendant has more than one personality. So when Mr. Boydetto said, ‘he didn’t do it,’ he actually…didn’t.”

  The judge’s eyes became large. She glanced over at Doucette before stating, “Gentlemen, this is a one hundred and seventy-five dollar infraction. In the interest of not sending the defendant for costly psychological evaluation, I suggest the two of you work something out…and quickly.”

  Doucette jumped aboard. “Your Honor, the people are more than happy to—”

  Vinny cut him off. “Excuse me, Mr. ADA…Judge. There’s one particular piece of evidence that should settle this matter once and for all.”

  “Of course there is,” the judge wisecracked. “And what is that, Mr. Gambini?”

  “May we approach, Your Honor?”

  She waved the attorneys forward. “What do you have, Mr. Gambini?”

  “If you look carefully at the signature on the check you will clearly see that it wasn’t signed by Aidan Boydetto at all, but in fact by his alter ego.” He folded the file open and placed it before the judge so that she and Doucette could both see it. The note in the comments section read: For sexual favors. The signature circled on the photocopy read: Lindsay Lohan.

  Doucette snorted.

  The judge bit her lip and then turned to the ADA with a probing glance.

  Doucette read between the lines and nodded in agreement.

  She banged her gavel. “Case dismissed.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven: No Rest for the Weary

  “Thank you, Your Honor.” Vinny turned to Boydetto and gave him a thumbs up. “Good luck, Aidan…or is it Lindsay?” he asked with a smirk. “Take care.”

  “I can’t thank you enough, Mr. Gambini,” Boydetto said, then lamented, “No one understands what I go through. I owe you, big time. Thanks.” He turned and moved off.

  “Nice work,” Doucette said, relieved to have dispensed with the nuisance case. He checked his watch. “We’ve got exactly two minutes to get downstairs before Judge Brick Balls finds us both in contempt.”

  “Judge Brick Balls?”

  “Sure,” Doucette said as he packed his briefcase. “Ex-marine—tough as nails. Some years back he declared a vendetta against the Chinese triads and they sent two hit men to his house to kill him. Wound up he disarmed one guy and broke three of his ribs before calling the police. Put the other guy in traction.”

  “He does look pretty intimidating up there on the bench.”

  “Believe me, you don’t want to piss him off.” Doucette snapped the lock on his briefcase. “Ready?”

  Lisa took Vinny’s picture as he and Doucette raced from the courtroom. Triumphant, Vinny had a huge grin plastered across his face. “I’ll see you downstairs,” he hollered to her and continued forward under a full head of steam. “Thanks for saving my ass, Lisa.”

  Lisa blushed before gathering her things.

  A gray-haired woman in the next aisle said, “That attorney was pretty darn good wasn’t he?”

  “Pretty good? He kicked that prosecutor’s ass. He’s my fiancé.”

  “What a lucky girl you are to have such a successful boyfriend.”

  Lisa smiled but kept her mouth shut, knowing she hardly had enough money in her purse for gas.

  ***

  The two attorneys took the stairs two at a time, scrambled across the lobby in haste, and burst through the courtroom doors before Judge Whorhatz entered the courtroom. Doucette checked his watch: 9:29 a.m. “Thank God. We made it with just seconds to spare.”

  Vinny glanced at Theresa as she was led to the defendant’s table. “You okay, kid?” he asked.

  She nodded, doing her utmost to present a brave face.

  “Okay, listen. There’s no way this case ain’t goin’ to trial, so don’t get rattled. The ADA is gonna state his argument and call some witnesses, which we know are all gonna be bullshit. But that don’t matter because there’s nothing I can say or do that’s gonna prevent the inevitable. Try your best not to get down on yourself. Okay?”

  She nodded again, this time far less convincingly.

  Vinny glanced at Doucette and noticed he was seated in the second-chair position. The man in the first chair had dark, closely shorn hair and wore a black yarmulke. “Who’s that?” Vinny mouthed to Doucette.

  Doucette raised his eyebrows. His reply came in the same noiseless manner as he mouthed, “The boss.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight: Outstanding

  “So that’s the DA,” Vinny said in a hushed tone.

  “What?” Theresa asked.

  “The DA is trying the case himself.”

  “That sounds like bad news.”

  “It only means it’s an important case, which we already knew, and the DA wants to make sure nothing gets screwed up. It don’t matter what his title is because you’re innocent. It wouldn’t matter to me if Robert Morgenthau himself was standing over there.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “Morgenthau? He was one of the longest-serving district attorneys in United States history. They talk about him in all the law schools. He’s practically a legend—especially here in New York where he served.”

  “So you’re feeling pretty confident. That’s good, right?”

  “Just let me do my thing.” He heard a man clearing his throat, turned, and saw the DA next to him. He extended his hand. “Vincent LaGuardia Gambini. Pleased to meet you.”

  “Mr. Gambini, Morton Gold, District Attorney for Kings County. Please call me Morty.”

  “Thanks, Morty. You can call me Gambini if you want to.” A moment of uncomfortable silence passed. “So, we’ve got one hell of a high-profile case here, Morty. I guess that’s why you’re here.”

  “I’m here because the schlemiel mayor said I had to be here. I was supposed to be on vacation in Miami Beach instead of here in this frozen wasteland.”

  “Maybe we can get this thing over quickly and you can get back to your trip,” Vinny said.

  The quiet of the courtroom was disturbed by the sound of a creaking door, followed by the clerk’s announcement. “All rise…”

  “I doubt it,” Gold said, a grave expression on his face as he turned away.

  The clerk continued. “The Honorable Larsen Whorhatz presiding.” He read the docket number and case.

  “Be seated.” Whorhatz got comfortable in his chair. “Mr. Gold, an honor to see you in my courtroom, sir. I take it you’ll be first chair?”

  “A pleasure to stand before you again, Your Honor. ADA Doucette will be second chair for the prosecution.

  “Outstanding.” Whorhatz grinned at the ADA. “Mr. Doucette…as always.” He then turned to Vinny. “Mr. Gambini, are you prepared for preliminary arguments?”

  Vinny’s hands were clenched nervously in front of him. “I am, Your Honor…yes.”

  Whorhatz repeated, “Outstanding,” but this time with a lackluster ring to it. “Mr. Gold…If you’d be so kind.”

  Vinny looked around, smiled at Lisa, and studied the other faces in the public section of the courtroom, which was at full capacity. The veins on his temples began to throb.

  The DA stood and buttoned his suit jacket. He scanned his notes one last time before beginning his argument. “Your Honor, Ms. Cototi, the defendant is accused of murder in the first degree. The people will prove that Ms. Cototi ruthlessly killed her boyfriend, one Samuel Cipriani, in an act of premeditated murder by pushing him off the roof of the apartment house in which Ms. Cototi currently resides.”

  “I presume that you have witnesses to call?” Whorhatz asked.

  “Yes, Your Honor.”

  “Well then, let’s get them up here, Mr. Go
ld. I’m not getting any younger.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine: Taking out the Trash

  The doors at the back of the courtroom closed with a thud, announcing the arrival of Deputy Mayor Anthony Cipriani. He was dressed in a somber black business suit.

  The courtroom became hushed, acknowledging the arrival of the victim’s very important brother.

  Both the judge and the DA acknowledged Cipriani by nodding as he took a seat behind the prosecutor’s table. As was the case for a preliminary hearing, the judge alone decided whether a case was strong enough to go to trial. The juror’s box was empty.

  Theresa tried desperately to make eye contact with Cipriani, but he focused straight ahead and would not meet her gaze.

  Greta Träsch was on the stand. She had broken off her reply in mid-sentence when Cipriani arrived and the proceedings temporarily halted. She crossed her long legs, left over right before glancing up at the judge for the signal to proceed.

  “Please continue,” Whorhatz said.

  She spoke with a German accent. Her English was interpretable but not without serious concentration. “Can you please repeat the question?” She fanned herself in a dramatic manner. “All this commotion, it’s overwhelming, ja?”

  “Happy to oblige,” Gold said. “Can you tell us where you were on the night of February twenty-sixth?”

  “Oh ja.” She tossed her long blonde hair over her shoulder. Her makeup was applied so thickly it looked as if it she had gotten the ninety-nine dollar special at Earl Scheib. “I was out for the evening with a friend and got home about three in the morning. We went to dinner and then back to his place for drinks.”

  “I see,” Gold said. “And can you tell us what happened next?”

  “I was getting comfortable. I was sitting on the edge of the bed when I noticed someone across the street on the roof. Naturally, I thought it was a peeping Tom,” she said as she combed her fingers through her hair. “I was going to ignore him but then I heard a thud and the screeching of automobile tires.”