by Bill Sage
That wasn’t entirely true. Acuna never spoke to the actual informant, he received all his information from an investigator in the DA’s office.
Acuna said that he put six mug shots together including one of Mangano. He showed them to the Maddens and both Robert and Joyce picked Mangano’s photo as the guy they saw shoot Palermo.
He brought the same photos he used in the lineup to court. Judge Roth and both attorneys examined them. All the men in the photos looked similar. That was good.
Now Goldman had his chance to cross-examine Acuna. He rose and just stood at the table, staring at Acuna. Then he pushed his chair in and took a few steps behind Wilcox.
“Nothing personal, Deputy Acuna, but I need to go through all the details of the lineup. You don’t mind, do you?”
“No sir. Of course, not.”
“Where did you conduct the lineup?”
“In a room off the detective bureau.”
“That was a little intimidating, don’t you think?”
“Not sure what you’re saying.”
“I know a police station is not intimidating to you, but it is to average citizens. That’s what I’m talking about.”
“Members of the public come to a sheriff’s facility every day. No one has ever been too afraid to come inside. And I was the only cop in the room when they looked at the photos.”
Goldman stepped closer to Acuna and near the jury box. “Yeah, but the witnesses would have been more comfortable in their own home. Don’t you think that would have produced a more reliable result?”
“I was conducting a murder investigation. That’s our procedure and nothing unusual or intimidating about it. And if we followed your logic, we’d have to put on live lineups in people’s living rooms. Take half the jail to someone’s house.”
“Oh, that’s real cute, deputy. You oughta go on a comedy tour.”
“Mr. Goldman, stop disrespecting the witness, you know better than that,” Roth said.
Goldman continued with his cross-examination, going over the details of how Acuna selected the photos and how he arranged them on the page. Then he focused in on the way he conducted the lineup.
As he asked more questions Roth could tell his mannerisms were teeing off Wilcox. Goldman would make faces, shake his head, or shrug his shoulders when Acuna said something he didn't like. Every time Goldman did that, Wilcox would groan or act irritated and look over at Roth to check for his reaction.
Finally, Wilcox brought it to Judge Roth’s attention.
Goldman immediately struck back. “Hey, Mr. Stalin, what's this, Russia? I have to get the approval of the government's lawyer before my face can show I don't believe false testimony?”
“Mr. Goldman,” Roth said, “I want to warn you that calling opposing counsel disrespectful names is misconduct. Don’t do it again.” Roth paused to let that sink in.
Hearing the tone in Roth's voice, Goldman looked down and didn’t respond.
“I noticed your facial expressions and body movements too, Mr. Goldman,” Judge Roth continued. “I find them very annoying. Maybe they're okay here, but don't do that in front of the jury.”
“Your Honor, if I'm doing that, it's involuntary. I'm just reacting to what I think is false testimony.”
“Well, you better stand in front of a mirror and see what you look like when you are talking or take some public speaking classes. Maybe that will help you. But don't do it here.”
Wilcox was smiling. It looked like he was enjoying hearing Goldman get lectured by Judge Roth.
Goldman kept up his tedious grilling of deputy Acuna. Since the jury wasn’t present, Wilcox held his objections in check. Meanwhile, Roth didn’t think Goldman was making any headway in showing the lineup had been done improperly.
When it was late in the afternoon, Roth recessed the motion until the next morning.
24
THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Judge Roth resumed hearing Goldman’s motion. Deputy Acuna was back on the stand, getting hammered by Goldman again.
As Goldman continued his cross-examination, Jesse Torres quietly entered the courtroom. He took a seat in the front row behind the railing. He was there for sentencing on his possession of heroin charge.
Sitting straight up, Torres shifted his gaze back and forth as he bit down on his lower lip. This was a big day for him, he could be going to state prison.
Bradford was sitting in front of him, on the lawyer side of the railing. He turned around, glanced at Torres, and smiled. Torres was on time and he looked like he was clean. But Bradford didn't have to worry, Lopez had picked up Torres and drove him to the courthouse.
Lopez waited outside the courtroom for about five minutes, then entered. Torres looked back and saw him coming in. Lopez sat down in one row behind Torres on the other side of the courtroom. Sitting down, he shot Torres an intimidating stare.
The newspaper reporter from the Orange County Register was in the audience. He was the same one who was reporting on the Ryan case. A young guy with glasses, he took notes on a yellow pad. He was the newspaper’s crime reporter.
As usual a sheriff’s deputy was in the courtroom to keep an eye on Mangano, who sat at the counsel table on the right side of Goldman.
Mangano was wearing a dark gray suit. Roth allowed him to wear his own clothes for the trial instead of a jail jumpsuit. He changed in the lockup before he was brought in.
Wilcox sat at the opposite end of the prosecution table with Sergeant Eddie Collins, the investigator handling the case.
Goldman was wrapping up his cross-examination of Deputy Acuna. After few more questions, he finally finished and then Wilcox took him on redirect. “Deputy Acuna, how many photo lineups have you conducted in your career?”
“Oh, that's hard to say, but it must be thirty to forty.”
“Gentlemen,” Judge Roth broke in. “I have a 10:30 sentencing matter and it's 10:45. All the parties on that matter are present. I have read the probation report and it should be very brief. I’d like the attorneys and Mr. Mangano to move back to the chairs in front of the railing. That way after I finish the sentencing on the Torres matter, we can jump right back into your case without losing any time.”
Wilcox and Goldman nodded their agreement.
They picked up their briefcases and files and moved to the chairs behind them. Mangano got up and sat between Goldman and the deputy sheriff guarding him.
Having all these people in the courtroom made Jon and the deputy sheriff uneasy. Their job was to watch Mangano, now they had to keep an eye on Torres too.
Jon gazed up at Judge Roth, who saw the concern on his face, but went ahead anyway.
“This won't take long, and I don't want to lose any time on the Mangano matter.”
Torres, Bradford, and Graydon Wagner, the DA handling the Torres case, stepped forward and stood behind the empty counsel table.
Judge Roth said, “I've read the probation report and I’d like to hear your comments, Mr. Bradford.”
Ron Bradford glanced at Judge Roth and took a breath to hide a smile. “Your Honor, my client is a hopeless addict, he's been one for years. It even has affected his mind. You’ll see in the probation report that he sometimes rambles incoherently. Narcotics have destroyed his life and he knows it.”
Torres stood next to Bradford, looking down at the floor.
Bradford continued, saying, “Sending him to prison will do him no good. It’ll only further his disability and lead to his return to heroin when he gets out.” He paused briefly, looked at Torres, then back at Judge Roth.
“Please continue, Mr. Bradford,” Roth said.
“It's been a revolving door for him, Your Honor. In and out of jail. He needs treatment, Your Honor. That's his only chance. Mr. Torres knows it's his last hope of living a normal life. We’re asking the court to refer him to a rehabilitation facility.”
Roth looked over at Bradford and held back a smile. He knew Bradford didn’t believe a word he said. “Okay, Mr. Bradford.” The
n Roth turned to DA Wagner. “Mr. Wagner, your comments.”
Wagner held the open DA file in his left hand. He looked down at it for a second. “Your Honor, Jesse Torres is a menace to society. He's a con artist. His incoherent ramblings are a giant put-on. He's had plenty of chances to get his life together, but it's clear he likes it just the way it is.”
Wagner closed the file and laid it on the counsel table. “It’s a fantasy to think any kind of treatment would help him.”
At that point Carlos Lopez cleared his throat.
Jesse Torres’ eyes darted to the left, zooming in on Wagner. Then Torres shifted his weight to his right foot and tightened his jaw.
Wagner was coming to the end of his argument. “Finally, Your Honor, I'm sure Mr. Torres will receive all the proper treatment he needs in State—”
“Fuck you!” Torres shouted as he bolted to his left, lunging at Wagner, knocking him to the floor.
Nick Mangano instantaneously shot from his chair and pounced on Torres, pushing him off Wagner and pinning him down. Sergeant Collins and the sheriff’s deputy held Torres down while they handcuffed him. When they brought Torres to his feet, Collins took him to the lockup.
Wagner was still in a daze as to what happened. It went so fast. Mangano was holding Wagner’s arm, trying to help him stand up. “Are you all right?” he asked. When Wagner didn’t answer, he asked him again, “Do you feel okay?”
“Yeah, I'm okay,” Wagner muttered.
Jon took Wagner’s other arm, helping him walk over to a chair.
“I saw that guy jump on you. What an asshole,” Mangano said.
“Thanks…thanks for helping me,” Wagner said, as he sat down at the counsel table.
Judge Roth called a recess. As he was leaving the bench, Judy asked him in a hushed voice, “What the heck was that all about?”
“The guy’s crazy,” Roth said, shaking his head.
Mangano was taken back to the lockup. As soon as the heavy door closed behind him, the sheriff’s deputy guarding him slapped him on the back. “Hey, great job, Nick.”
“Yeah, you took that asshole down,” one of the jailers said.
Mangano smiled, then shrugged. “That guy’s crazy. And he does that in court? I don’t know, I had to do something. All the DA was doing was his job; he didn’t deserve that. There’s no way…”
After Mangano was put in a cell, the jailer brought him a cup of coffee and an Orange County Register. “If you need anything else, give me a holler.”
25
DURING THE RECESS LOPEZ CAME UP to the railing and spoke to Bradford. “Ron, what the hell just happened? That was nuts.”
“Don’t ask me. He really screwed up any chance he had of getting a good sentence from Al.” He paused then asked, “What are you doing here anyway?”
“Having lunch with Al.”
“Oh yeah, Franco’s.”
“Why don’t you join us?”
“I wish I could. Have another appearance in Santa Ana.”
“Too bad, you could’ve had a little fun.”
Bradford swatted Lopez’s arm and said, “Good to see you. Tell Al I’m sorry for what happened. Had no idea. I’ll talk to him later.”
Then he stepped over to Judy, said something and left the courtroom.
Lopez went to where Goldman was standing, tapped his arm to get his attention.
Goldman turned to look at him.
“Looks like you’re kicking their asses,” Lopez said.
“Thanks. We’ll see how it works out.”
Lopez stuck out his hand. “My name is Carlos.”
Goldman shook his hand. “Arnold Goldman.”
“Wasn’t the judge in the Manson case thinking of appointing you to represent him? That’s what I…”
“Oh, you remember that. Yeah, Judge Older. He finally went with Kanarek.”
“Not a good move.”
“Even I would’ve been better,” Goldman said with a grin.
Lopez chuckled. “I’m retired and enjoy coming to court, watching trials. They’re really fascinating to me.”
Goldman laughed out loud. “That’s the last thing I’d ever do if I were retired. You must be really desperate.”
“Yeah, I guess it wouldn’t be that much fun for you. But for me, they’re great to watch. I don’t know…”
“To each his own,” Goldman said, grimacing.
“What do you think about the DA and the judge?”
“But wait,” Goldman said. “I don’t remember ever seeing you around watching any other trials. I’m in this court a lot.”
“I’ve been around. Sometimes I go to Santa Ana, see what’s going on over there.”
“Uh-huh,” Goldman said, nodding his head. “Well, to answer your question, the DA’s okay. He’s doing the best he can, but he’s got a flaky case. No comment on the judge.”
“Oh, okay.” Then after a short pause, “Just my opinion, but I think your cross-examination of the officer was very effective.”
“Thanks,” Goldman said, turning to go.
“Well, good luck. Nice talking to you.”
Goldman nodded.
As Lopez was heading back to sit back down, he said, “You’ll probably see me in here now and then. This is the best trial going on in the courthouse.”
“Okay. See you around,” Goldman said with a shrug.
From the way Goldman looked, Lopez got the impression he wasn't buying his “court-watcher” line.
That’s what he wanted.
A few minutes later, Roth came out and finished taking testimony on Goldman’s motion. After a few more questions from Wilcox and Goldman, both sides rested.
Judge Roth then listened to their brief arguments. When they finished, he said, “Mr. Goldman, you produced no evidence showing the lineup was conducted in an unfair manner. A little smoke, no fire. Motion denied.”
Goldman stared at Roth and slowly nodded his head several times. Then as he grunted he shoved the law book he’d brought with him to the edge of the table and stood up. “That decision doesn't come as any big shock to me, Your Honor. I never thought this would be a fair trial.”
“Mr. Goldman, you never seem to disappoint me. You always manage to find some way to be disrespectful to the court and the judicial process,” Judge Roth said.
“I speak the truth as I see it, Your Honor.”
“When your truth amounts to misconduct, you’ve stepped over the line. You’re in contempt of court and have earned yourself five days in county jail for your unprofessional remarks. Any more of this misconduct from you and I’ll consider removing you from the case.”
Since putting Goldman in jail for contempt during the trial would interfere in his representation of Mangano, Judge Roth had to wait until after the trial before he imposed jail time.
The only real question for Roth was that since Goldman was merely following Jake’s instructions, would he give Goldman jail time. He decided to put that off until the trial was over.
Being held in contempt of court was no big deal for Goldman. He’d been very successful in getting the Court of Appeals to reverse prior contempt rulings in other cases.
As he sat down he gave Roth a smug smile.
Jon stared at Goldman then looked at Roth, who was keeping his eyes on Goldman.
Before they started that morning, the attorneys had informed Roth that after he’d ruled on the motion, they wouldn’t be ready to do anything else on the case. So Roth recessed the trial until the following morning.
As Roth was standing up he instructed Judy to tell lockup to bring Torres back to the courtroom in about ten minutes.
Then gesturing to Lopez, who by then was the only non-staff person in the courtroom, he said, “Come on in.”
They went into Roth’s chambers.
Lopez sunk in one of the empty chairs in front of the desk. “It went the way it was supposed to.” He paused, eyeing Roth. “You gotta say, he did good.”
“He had to. I thin
k you scared the shit out of him.”
“Well, he’s desperate and whatever it was, it worked.”
“The hard part’s over. Now I’ll have to take care of the rest.”
Lopez nodded and paused a moment. “Ron was really pissed about Torres. He thought he'd fucked up any chance of getting a good sentence.”
“Ron’s a good man," Roth said, smiling. "He’s worried about Torres.”
“If he only knew.”
Roth laughed. “He’ll be surprised.”
Lopez nodded again.
“After I finish Torres, we’ll go to Franco’s. I owe you lunch.” Then after pausing, Roth said, “Shit, I owe you much more than that.”
“No, lunch will settle it,” Lopez said. Then after a few minutes of talking he stood up. “I better get back to the courtroom before they bring him out.”
A short while later, two sheriff’s deputies returned Torres to the courtroom. But this time they made him stand in the jury box, where they’d have better control over him.
He was cuffed and had his head down when Roth took the bench.
After Torres’ attack on Wagner, Roth had no choice but to revoke his bail. He knew Lopez had forewarned him exactly what would happen. And Lopez had told Roth he’d gone over that part of the plan many times to make sure Torres fully understood it.
“He knows what’s coming,” Lopez had told Roth. “Fuck ‘im, anyway.”
After revoking Torres’ bail, Roth admonished him about his irrational behavior. “You’re only making it worse for yourself. I need to make it clear that what you say and do in the courtroom can affect what happens to you. I want you to understand that.”
“Yes, Your Honor. I understand,” Torres said, glancing over at Lopez. “I want to apologize. It’s my condition, I can’t control it. It makes me do things I don’t want to do.”
Roth continued Torres’ sentencing to a week later. He wanted to get a fresh probation report with emphasis on Torres’ mental condition. Then as he was returning to his chambers he asked Judy to contact Bradford’s office to let him know of the new date.