McNulty offers a half-hearted objection that’s overruled.
Nick gives me a wicked smile and says, “What do you think?”
We spend ten minutes offering up photo after photo of the pillar of Silicon Valley in an array of compromising positions. Like a miniature Jack Benny, Nick’s delivery is exceptional and his timing is perfect. Now that we’ve warmed up the crowd by thoroughly assassinating Tower Grayson’s character, it’s time to go after the main attraction: Brad Lucas.
“Mr. Hanson,” I say, “was Mr. Grayson accompanied by anybody during his little visit to Basic Needs last Tuesday?”
“Indeed he was.”
“And who would that have been?”
He pauses for perfect dramatic effect, then he points his index finger at me and says, “That would have been Mr. Grayson’s attorney, Bradley J. Lucas, Esquire.”
Murmurs in the back of the courtroom. Brad Lucas is sitting outside awaiting his turn. He probably has some clue that the little PI with the funny hair and the rose on his lapel is talking about him. He may not realize that his reputation is being annihilated in open court. Judge McDaniel bangs her gavel and calls for order.
I turn back to Nick the Dick and say, “Do you have any photographic evidence that Mr. Lucas was with Mr. Grayson and Ms. Morales last Tuesday night?”
“Indeed I do.” He pulls out another photo showing Grayson and Lucas with Alicia Morales behind Basic Needs. He gives me a triumphant smile and says, “Incidentally, that wasn’t the only occasion that I saw them together.”
“Was Mr. Lucas also soliciting Ms. Morales for sex and drugs?”
“Indeed he was.”
It’s enough. It’s important to know when to get off stage. I thank Nick for his time and turn to Judge McDaniel. “No further questions, Your Honor.”
She doesn’t realize she’s smiling when she turns to McNulty and asks, “Cross exam?”
He throws in the towel. “No, Your Honor.”
“The witness may step down.”
Nick thanks her profusely as he hops out of the witness chair. Every eye in the courtroom is on him as he saunters up the center aisle. Just before the door shuts behind him, I can see Nick the Dick casting a sarcastic look at Brad Lucas, as if to say, “Lots of luck.”
Judge McDaniel bangs her gavel only once, then she looks at me and says, “Did you want to recall a witness, Mr. Daley?”
“Yes, Your Honor. The defense would like to recall Mr. Bradley Lucas.”
*****
Chapter 55
“Do You Think Anybody in this Courtroom Believes You?”
“Just when you think you have everything figured out, a surprise comes along that changes the course of your case.”
— Rosita Fernandez. BoaltLaw School Monthly.
A circumspect Brad Lucas takes the stand for an encore performance. The bravado is gone and the arrogance is muted. He was sitting outside the courtroom during Nick Hanson’s testimony, and he couldn’t have missed the guffaws. In the best of circumstances, Nick the Dick is a tough act to follow. Judge McDaniel reminds him that he’s still under oath as he adjusts the microphone and tugs at his tie. The gloves are off and all eyes are trained on him.
“Mr. Lucas,” I say, “since we last chatted, we’ve heard some interesting testimony from the head of security at Embarcadero Center.”
His eyes narrow, but he doesn’t say anything.
“He said the security videos showed that no BMWs left the garage at Three Embarcadero Center between midnight and six A.M. on Friday, June third.”
Still no answer.
“You testified earlier that you drove your car out of the garage at Three Embarcadero Center at one-thirty A.M. on Friday, June third, didn’t you?”
He waffles. “I believe so.”
“We can read back your testimony if you’d like.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
Here we go. “That wasn’t exactly a true statement, was it, Mr. Lucas?
He swallows hard and takes off his trendy wire-framed glasses. It appears that he’s doing a quick analysis to decide whether it’s better to lie or come clean. He puts his glasses on and says, “I made an error. During the break, it occurred to me that I did not drive to work that day.”
Bullshit. “How did you get there, Mr. Lucas?”
“I walked.”
“And how did you get home?”
“I walked there, too.”
I give him an incredulous look and ask, “So, you’ve decided to change your story?”
“Yes.”
“Can anybody corroborate your new story?”
“I don’t know.”
How convenient. “You’re lying again, aren’t you, Mr. Lucas?”
“No.”
“Why should we believe you?” I expect McNulty to object, but he’s uncharacteristically subdued. I lay it on thicker when I ask, “Have you lied about anything else, Mr. Lucas?”
“Absolutely not, Mr. Daley.”
“Are you sure? It’s better to come clean now while you have the chance.”
Finally, McNulty interjects, “Objection. Argumentative.”
“Sustained.” Judge McDaniel points her gavel at me and says, “Move along, Mr. Daley.”
With pleasure. “Mr. Lucas,” I say, “Did you have dinner with a man named Lawrence Chamberlain last Thursday night?”
His eyes suggest that he has no idea where I’m heading. “Yes.”
“And you knew that he hired a private investigator named Nick Hanson to keep Tower Grayson under surveillance, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know that Mr. Hanson was watching Mr. Grayson on May thirty-first?”
There is a hint of tentativeness in his voice when he says, “No.”
“Among other things, he saw you and Mr. Grayson fraternizing with a known prostitute named Alicia Morales at Basic Needs that night.”
“Obviously, Mr. Hanson was mistaken.”
“Obviously, he wasn’t.”
He becomes more strident. “I’m afraid he was.”
“I’m afraid he wasn’t.” I turn to the judge and say, “We request permission to show the witness defense exhibits forty-five through fifty-five.”
Judge McDaniel asks McNulty, “Any objections?”
“No, Your Honor.”
I hand him Nick the Dick’s photos of himself, Grayson and Morales and watch his neck turn red. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down, but he remains silent.
“Mr. Lucas,” I say, “you testified earlier that you had never met Ms. Morales.”
Still no response.
“Would you care to explain how Mr. Hanson was able to take these photos?”
The courtroom is hushed as Brad Lucas tries to buy a little time by pretending to study the pictures. Judge McDaniel leans over and says, “Answer the question, Mr. Lucas.”
He has two choices: fess up or claim that the photos are fakes. If he picks Door Number One, his career goes up in flames. If picks Door Number Two, he sets himself up for a perjury count and his career goes up in flames. I suspect he may no longer be in the running to be the new chairman of the ABA’s Business Law Section. As Nick the Dick would say, either way, he’s fucked.
He tries to have it both ways. “I met with Mr. Grayson and Ms. Morales at Basic Needs in a privileged and confidential client meeting.”
Bullshit. “So you lied when you said that you had never met Ms. Morales.”
“I had a legal duty not to reveal client confidences.”
I say to the judge, “The privilege doesn’t extend to meetings with unrepresented parties who are engaged in illegal activities.” It’s a rather contorted interpretation of the Rules of Professional Conduct, but it will do.
It’s Judge McDaniel’s turn to glare. “Answer the question,” she says to him.
Lucas’s face is beet red as he says, “I’ve met Alicia Morales.”
Was that so hard? “Have you lied about anything els
e, Mr. Lucas?”
“No.”
We aren’t quite finished. “Why were you meeting with Mr. Grayson and Ms. Morales?
He clears his throat and says, “They were having a dispute.”
“About what?”
He takes a deep breath and says, “Money. Ms. Morales believed that Mr. Grayson owed her a substantial sum. He disagreed.”
That’s the way it usually works. “Why did Mr. Grayson call you?”
“I’m his lawyer.”
“Most people who get into fights with prostitutes and drug dealers don’t pay their lawyers almost seven hundred dollars an hour to resolve them.”
“We’re a full service law firm. A valued client came to me with a serious problem. I tried to help him work it out.”
“So you were mediating a dispute between a hooker and a john?”
“I was mediating a dispute between my client and another party.”
Judge McDaniel is staring at him in disbelief.
I say to Lucas, “You lied to us about your car and Alicia Morales. Why should we believe this hokey story about trying to intercede in your client’s dispute with his whore?”
I’m waiting for McNulty to object, but he remains silent.
Lucas summons an even tone when he says, “It’s the truth, Mr. Daley.”
“Do you think anybody in this courtroom believes you?”
McNulty finally objects. “Argumentative,” he says.
“Sustained.”
My neck is burning and the little voice in the back of my head tells me to nail this arrogant jackass. “Mr. Lucas,” I say, “were you able to negotiate a settlement for your client?”
“I was.” He takes a deep breath and says, “Ms. Morales was threatening to go to the police and to Mr. Grayson’s wife if he did not pay her a substantial sum. It would have caused him great embarrassment if Mr. Grayson’s relationship with Ms. Morales had become a matter of public record.”
“It was a case of simple blackmail?”
“More or less.”
“What were the terms of the agreement that you negotiated?”
“Mr. Grayson agreed to pay her fifty thousand dollars and she agreed to leave town.”
That explains why Grayson pulled the money out of his bank account. “Where is she?”
“I assume she’s left the area. I don’t think she’ll be back.”
“How do you know?”
“She seemed to be a person who lived up to her commitments.”
“You have a lot of faith in the integrity of a hooker who was blackmailing your client.”
“My clients pay me a lot of money for my judgment on such matters.”
I’m sure Grayson was very appreciative of your efforts. I turn to the judge and say, “Your Honor, I would like to show the witness defense exhibits fifty-eight and fifty-nine.” I hand Lucas the bank records and say, “You will note that Mr. Grayson withdrew twenty-five thousand dollars last Thursday.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“And you withdrew twenty-five thousand dollars from your own account.”
He hesitates before he says, “I needed to move some funds.”
Right. “Yet you testified that Mr. Grayson agreed to pay Ms. Morales fifty thousand.”
“Correct.”
“Why didn’t he withdraw fifty, and why did you withdraw twenty-five?”
“Tower was short, so I agreed to loan him the balance.”
The only people who can corroborate his story are Grayson, who’s dead, and Morales, who’s gone. I press him on it, but he doesn’t budge. I ask, “What happened to the fifty grand?”
“Tower was supposed to deliver it to Ms. Morales. Obviously, something went wrong.”
No kidding. “Were you there, Mr. Lucas?”
“No.”
I don’t believe him. “Was anybody else there?”
“Just your client.”
Asshole. “Where’s the money?”
“I presume Ms. Morales has it.”
“Where is she?”
The arrogant tone returns when he says, “I told you I don’t know.”
I push him, but he doesn’t give an inch. I summon my remaining energy and go for broke. “Did Tower Grayson pick you up on his way to Sixth Street on Friday morning? Did you accompany him to Alcatraz Liquors to ensure that he made the drop off to Alicia Morales?”
“No.”
“Was she blackmailing you, too?”
“No.”
“Was he?”
“Of course not.”
I lay the cards on the table. “Did you kill Mr. Grayson?”
“Absolutely not.”
“You realize the only person who can confirm your testimony is Alicia Morales. Did you kill her, too?”
“Of course not.”
“Are you lying to us again, Mr. Lucas?”
McNulty has heard enough. “Objection,” he says. “Mr. Daley is badgering the witness.”
“Sustained.”
It’s the best that I can do. I glance at Jerry Edwards and say, “No further questions.”
McNulty passes on cross and Judge McDaniel tells Lucas that he can step down. She looks at her watch and says, “I’m going to adjourn until nine o’clock tomorrow morning.” She looks at me and asks, “How many more witnesses do you have?”
“One moment, Your Honor.” I walk back to the defense table and whisper to Leon, “Will you be ready to go in the morning?”
He nods.
I ask Rosie, “Is it enough?”
“You’ve poked a lot of holes in their case, but they still have Leon at the scene with the murder weapon.” She takes a deep breath and says, “You know what to do.”
I turn to the judge and say, “We’ll have two witnesses. The first will be Leon Walker.”
“Your client understands that he is not required to testify.”
“Yes he does.” I turn around and glare at Brad Lucas, who is standing by the door at the rear of the courtroom. I make sure my voice is loud enough for him to hear when I say, “The second witness will be Alicia Morales.”
*****
Chapter 56
“Don’t Give Up Hope”
“Leon Walker is expected to take the stand in his own defense on Friday morning. Michael Daley stunned the courtroom when he announced that key witness Alicia Morales has been located and will also testify.”
— Jerry Edwards. Channel 2 News. Thursday, June 9. 6:00 P.M.
“Why didn’t you tell me that you found Alicia Morales?” Leon asks.
I look into his hopeful eyes and tell him the truth. “We haven’t.”
“You lied?”
“In poker and in court, we call it bluffing.”
We’re sitting in a consultation in the Glamour Slammer at six-thirty. Rosie is sipping a Diet Coke. I’m working on a Diet Dr Pepper.
Leon sits up straight in his wheelchair and asks, “Bluffing to whom?”
I come clean. “We aren’t sure. There are a number of people who were angry at Grayson who were in the vicinity that night. His wife and son were there, and so was Carponelli. We haven’t been able to pin down the whereabouts of Chamberlain or Lucas after they left Boulevard. The only person who really knows what happened that night is Alicia Morales.”
“So?”
“We want to see if anybody comes looking for her tonight at the Gold Rush Hotel.”
He’s legitimately skeptical. “The murderer won’t show up,” he says. “The building will be surrounded by cops. If he’s smart, he’ll leave town.”
“Then the cops will know he has something to hide. Besides, the people we’ve identified as suspects won’t want to spend their lives on the lam. The cops are watching everybody who testified today.”
“Says who?”
“Roosevelt Johnson.”
“Why is he giving you information?
“Because we’ve known each other for almost fifty years.”
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