Silenced Justice: A Josh Williams Novel

by Joe Broadmeadow

  Chapter 16

  April 8, 1972

  Criminal Division

  Attorney General's Office

  Providence, RI

  There is a hierarchy within the Rhode Island Department of the Attorney General. At the top is the Attorney General, an elected position. He or she appoints Deputy Attorneys General. They head the various divisions, Criminal, Civil, Appellate, and others.

  Next in line are the Assistant Attorneys General, career prosecutors with extensive experience. Usually, they rise from the ranks of the special assistants through talent, dedication, or just hanging around long enough. Last in line comes the Special Assistant Attorneys General. The AG appoints them, sometimes as political favors to campaign supporters or other influential people.

  Cops, lawyers, and judges refer to the various levels within the Attorney General's office as the AG, or the AG's office. A collective expression for all prosecutors. The abbreviation pronounced as if the A and G were separate words.

  The Criminal Division at the Attorney General's office held a weekly meeting to assign and discuss cases. As in most organizations, shit rolled downhill. The worst cases went to the newest Special Assistant AGs. They rarely, if ever, caught a good case, let alone one involving rape and homicide. They spend most of their time at arraignments, violation hearings, and bail hearings doing the unglamorous work of the office.

  When the Deputy of the Criminal Division assigned the Darnell Grey case to George Tucker, the consensus was the case had problems. Big problems.

  After the meeting, Tucker went to see the Deputy Attorney General, Robert Collucci.

  Knocking on the office door, he poked his head in. "Can I talk to you for a minute, Bob?"

  "Of course," motioning for him to enter. "Close the door will you, George?"

  Tucker sat in the chair next to the window and waited several moments for Collucci to look at him.

  "What can I do for you?" Collucci asked.

  "Well, to be frank, why did I catch the Grey case? It's high profile. Is there something about it I need to know?"

  Collucci paused a moment, then smiled. "You know, I've been watching your progress here. Your case preparation is thorough and comprehensive. You excel in the courtroom. I've heard many complaints from the defense side, which I take as a good sign." Rising from his chair, he came around to lean against the front of the desk, arms folded, looking at the young prosecutor.

  "George, there comes a time when you have to move into the majors. Show us what you can do. This is your opportunity. From what I know of the case, it's solid. Witnesses, including cops, to his dumping the body. A solid lineup identification by one of the rape victims and some good circumstantial evidence to support the case. I see no problems.” Waving his hand in the air, "That's not to say there won't be the usual issues, but nothing that can't be overcome."

  Tucker listened, watching the animated Collucci's performance. The guy is a real showman; you make a great speech, coach.

  "I understand you supervised the lineup?" Tucker asked.

  Collucci paused a moment, returned to his desk, and looked at his appointment book. "I believe I did, I may have, sure. It will be in the file. I have a meeting in five minutes with the AG. Is there anything else?" dismissing Tucker by his inattention.

  Tucker stood. "No. If I find any problems, I'll let you know. Do you happen to know who's representing him?"

  "Public Defender, of course. Those bastards never have any money."

  Tucker took offense at the patent implied racism. He wanted to say something, but knew it was useless. Now was not the time or the place.

  Returning to his office, Tucker called and had the Grey file sent up. Resigned to the inevitability of the coming discussion, he called his wife, telling her he'd be home late.

  They had their usual argument about the time he put in, not making enough money, not being home enough. He listened, phone held away from his ear as he opened the file, and promised to be home as soon as he could.

  After making a full pot of coffee, he settled in for a long night of reading about the evil men do to their fellow human beings.

  * * *

  Tucker finished the file review around 11 pm. He filled two legal sized notepads with items he needed to address. One stood out from all the others. He needed to clarify this first.

  The next morning, Tucker called the Providence PD Detective Division and spoke to Captain Gemma. Addressing his concerns to the captain, Tucker asked for the Gemma's help in resolving the conflict. Gemma assured him he would research the matter and get back to him as soon as possible.

  Tucker hung up, closed the file, and put it on the cabinet in his office.

  Later in the morning, on his return from court, Tucker found Detectives George Weslyan and Jimmy Calise in his office. More troubling was the fact they had the Grey file opened on his desk.

  "What are you doing in here? Who let you in?" Tucker asked.

  "Your boss did," Weslyan replied. "You called about a problem. Gemma sent us to fix it," smiling at Tucker. "We're fixing it."

  Tucker moved toward the desk, trying to grab the file. Calise stepped in to block his path.

  "Did you remove anything from that file?"

  Weslyan sneered at him. "Look, Mr. Special Assistant AG. There was a mix-up in the report on the lineup. My fault, I started to type it out then got distracted. I made a mistake on it. The one that ended up in the file was the wrong one. I put the right one in there. This one," pulling a paper from his inside jacket pocket, "no longer exists. Understand?"

  "No, I do not understand. If you made an error, it's no big deal. We can address it in discovery. But you cannot remove items from the file," Tucker argued.

  "Well, too late. I already did. It shouldn't have been in there anyway. You just make sure the motherfucking stovepipe stays behind bars where he belongs. Don't let chicken shit procedures screw this up," Weslyan answered.

  "What did you just say?" Tucker was angry; he really hated this attitude of white superiority.

  "Stovepipe, mulignan, whatever, I suppose you'd prefer black male?" the words spat at Tucker. "Just keep that 'boon in a cage where he belongs. Understand?” Turning to the other detective, "Let's go Jimmy, We’re done here."

  Tucker was shaking. Calming himself, he took the file and walked to Collucci's office. Collucci was not there. He wanted to go to the AG with this, but knew it was useless. He would have to wait for Collucci's return.

  "Janice, would you please ask Mr. Collucci to call me as soon as he returns?" Pausing a moment, “Better than that, call me when he gets back and I will come right over. Thank you."

  He should have known better than to rely on Collucci's personal secretary.

  He waited several hours for the call, unable to focus on anything else, his phone ringing just before the office closed.

  "George Tucker," he answered.

  "George, Bob Collucci. Sorry I missed you. I won't be available until later tomorrow morning. Is that okay?" he said, not waiting for the reply. "Come over to my office around noon. We'll go to lunch."

  The dial tone bored a hole in Tucker's brain.

  Son-of-a bitch, no good rotten son-of-a bitch.

  * * *

  At 11:45 AM, Tucker sat outside Collucci's office, drumming his hands on the case file and glaring at the secretary. He rehearsed in his mind what he would say, ending with his resignation if Collucci let this slide.

  The door to the office opened. Collucci came out, followed by three other men. He stood at the door as they filed by. Tucker recognized Detective Weslyan from the incident in his office; he didn't know the other two. The group ignored Tucker, talking among themselves, as they left the office. As they left, Attorney General William Patterson came out and walked over to Tucker.

  "George, right?" the perfect campaign smile anchored on his face. "I hear good things about you. Keep up the good work." Patting Tucker on the shoulder, he ambled past the secretary, and sauntered out the door.<
br />
  "Come in George," Collucci said, still standing at the door into his office. "No interruptions Janice, none."

  "Who was in the office with you and Patterson?" Tucker asked.

  Collucci turned on Tucker, started to speak, then took a moment to calm himself. "Captain Anthony Gemma, retired State Police Lieutenant Alfred Monson, and Detective George Weslyan. We discussed some issues with the Grey case."

  "Why wouldn't you include me? It is my case, is it not?" Tucker asked.

  "Please sit down," Collucci motioned to a chair.

  "I'll stand."

  The rest of the discussion was brief, but pointed. Collucci was a master at implied threats.

  "Didn't you hear what I said?" Tucker questioned, his frustration boiling over. "They removed a document and put in a new one. For all we know, the whole file is fraudulent. Weslyan's a bigoted bastard. All he cares is it's a black man they caught. If it's not the right one, it makes no difference to him."

  Collucci sat with the fingertips of his hands pressed together, tapping the tip of his nose, looking past them as Tucker raged on.

  "Enough," Collucci said. "I looked at the file, and the document they replaced. It was an oversight and nothing more. Weslyan told us he started the lineup report then got distracted. He didn't catch the time error. Look, it's no big deal. Discovery hasn't happened yet."

  Picking up a folder and waving it in the air, "This is the reason we review files, to catch these errors before discovery," tossing the file on the desk. "I appreciate your concern. Patterson and I reviewed the file. We are satisfied we've met our obligations. The matter is closed."

  Tucker understood the nature of politics better than most. He was a realist, and patient. I may not be able to do anything about this now…but someday.

  Returning to his office, he placed his brief case on the desk. Reaching into the bottom desk drawer, he withdrew a small file folder. He placed the file in his briefcase, and left for the day. He would put this in a place of safekeeping, one day he would be in a position to do something about this.

  * * *

  April 15, 1972

  Department of the Attorney General

  Providence, Rhode Island

  The phone rang on the Collucci's desk. Picking up the receiver, his irritation evident in his voice, he said, "Janice, I told you to hold all my calls."

  "You might want to take this one," the secretary answered, “It's the warden from the ACI."

  "Fine, put him through."

  A moment later, Collucci spoke to the warden. "What the hell do you mean he's dead?" Collucci listened for several minutes. "How the hell does an inmate awaiting trial end up in the general population? A rapist and murderer for god's sake. What dumb son-of-a-bitch let that happen? What?" listening to the explanation. "Well isn't that convenient? You had better find a way to make this right. I don't care who gets burned over it," slamming the phone, breaking the receiver. "Janice," he yelled, "Get me another phone in here, now."

  Jesus Christ, this just gets better and better.

  Collucci took a moment to plan his course of action. First, protect the office, the AG, and himself from the fallout, although not necessarily in that order. Then, make sure Tucker understands enough to let this go. That might not be so easy; I need leverage.

  Collucci left his office and walked down the hall to the main office of the Attorney General. It was an ornate but not large office. Dark, wooden paneled walls covered with bookshelves. The impressive centerpiece, a handmade mahogany desk, completed the setting. The office overlooked Dorrance Street with views toward the river.

  Attorney General William Patterson, elected for his third consecutive term, was a cautious man. Collucci knew he would need to be diplomatic. Explaining the circumstances to the AG, he offered his suggestion and assurances. This could have no effect on Patterson's political position.

  Satisfied the AG was on board, he returned to his own office.

  Picking up the now replaced phone, he called Tucker's extension.

  "George, Bob Collucci. Do you have a moment for me?"

  Five minutes later, Tucker was in the office.

  "George, the AG and I were discussing forming a new unit within the Criminal Division. The focus would be on sensitive racial issues. We know you have strong feelings in this matter. We'd like to have you head the unit."

  Tucker found himself puzzled, but pleased. He made no secret of his leanings in the Civil Rights area. He proposed something similar as soon as he started in the AG's office. Why now, he wondered. "I'd like that, Bob. As soon as I clear my calendar, I can get started."

  "I've already handled it. I arranged to transfer your cases to some of the other assistants. I'll take the Grey case, which frees you up for this new project."

  Tucker thought a moment, uncertain what was behind this surprise offer, then said, "Okay, where do I start?"

  Collucci smiled, "Great, I’ll arrange a meeting with Patterson so we can plan this out. I'll let you know as soon as he is available." Coming around his desk, he shook Tucker's hand, “Thanks for taking this on. This is a high priority matter with this office and it will be a great opportunity for you."

  As Tucker left the office, Collucci was back on the phone to Patterson. "Tucker bought into it. But we better move fast, before he finds out there's more to the story." After listening for the response, he said, "I'll be right there." Now all I have to do is convince him it was his idea and hope Tucker doesn't hear about Grey until this is in the bag….

  * * *

  "So I guess that counts as a win," Special Assistant Attorney General Michael Webster said as he came into Tucker's office.

  "Win?" Tucker replied. "What are you talking about?" opening a file folder on his desk.

  "You haven't heard?" Webster asked. "The Grey case, your big claim to stardom? He's dead."

  "Who's dead, Mike?" not looking up from the file.

  "Darnell Grey, your Rape Homicide trial defendant, is dead. They beat him to death in the prison."

  Tucker looked up, eyes narrowing, and looked at Webster. "What? When did this happen?"

  "I don't know, this morning, last night?" Webster said, moving files to sit on a chair. "I was in a meeting with the AG. Collucci came in, asked us all to leave. I waited outside the office and overheard the conversation."

  "Son-of-a-bitch," Tucker said. "The bastard knew it when he talked to me. Son-of-a-bitch," his face flushed, the veins in his neck pulsing with each shallow breath.

  Regaining his self-control, Tucker told Webster the details of his conversation with Collucci. "I am going to resign. I can't believe this shit goes on here."

  "What good will it do?" Webster argued. "Look, there's not much you can do to change this. You sure as shit can't do anything from outside the office. Resign and you gain nothing. Stay inside and maybe, just maybe, you can turn things around."

  Tucker showed no reaction, spinning a pen in his fingers. "But I'm involved. I saw problems with the case. There are issues with the lineup. When Collucci put pressure on me, I just caved. He may not believe it, but I think the whole case is a big lie. Now he's trying to buy me off with this new job."

  Webster put his hands on the desk, "So you saw problems with the case. Every case here has problems. Look, you didn't kill him. There may be issues, but from what I know, the guy was a brutal bastard. There was plenty of evidence against him."

  Tucker looked at Webster, “I'm not so sure about it."

  "You got another job you can go to? Isn’t your wife pregnant? How you going to pay bills trying to start a practice? You know if you cross Collucci he will find ways to bury you. Listen to me, keep your mouth shut and wait for the opportunity to do something that will make a difference. You can't do that now and you sure as shit can't do it if you're unemployed."

  Tucker looked out his window. "You're right, I guess. I don't have much choice, do I?"

  Webster went to the door, looking back at Tucker. "Listen; meet me after work, my t
reat. You can tell me your plans for this new unit you're running."

  Tucker smiled, "Okay, deal. Thanks Mike," watching as the door close.

  I hope this is the right thing to do. I really hope so…

  SILENCE OF THE LIONS

  Chapter 17

  September 9, 2009, 11:30AM

  Office of the Presiding Justice

  Rhode Island Supreme Court

  Providence, RI

  Judge Tucker sat in his office reviewing Writs of Certiorari petitions submitted to the court.

  His mind drifted back to 1972. He recalled sitting in his small office in the AG's office, contemplating his resignation. A man died and I did nothing. Now, perhaps I can make amends.

  Walking to a file cabinet in the office, he unlocked it and removed a file from the bottom drawer. Opening the faded manila folder, he removed two documents then returned the folder to the cabinet.

  Placing them on his desk, he picked up the line to his aide. "Mrs. Atwell, would you please look up the address for the East Providence Police Department. Please prepare a large envelope addressed to Lieutenant Joshua Williams. Use my personal post office box for the return address, and bring it to me as soon as you've had time to complete it. Thank you," ending the call.

  Looking over the documents, the feeling of disappointment overcame him. All these years and it isn't until now I find the courage to do something.

  There was a slight knock on the door and Mrs. Atwell entered carrying the yellow mailing envelope.

  "Here it is, your Honor. Would you like me to mail it for you?" glancing at the files on the desk.

  "Thank you, no, Mrs. Atwell. I will take care of it myself. I need to review a few things before I seal it." Waiting for Atwell to leave, Judge Tucker read over each piece of paper once more. He placed the two documents in the envelope, sealed it, and put it in his briefcase.