“The computer will help with that?” Jake asks.
“With the touch of a button,” I tell him. “It’s called red-eye reduction.”
“I’ll get Flan on it. He should be here any minute now. So you were saying, son?”
Just as I’m about to finally let Jake in on my romantic relationship with Erin these past six months, the conference room door swings open with that insufferable squeak like nails on a chalkboard. Flan steps in, shaking himself off like a wet dog.
“Don’t you own an umbrella?” I say.
“Funny, Paris Hilton,” Flan says in a huff. “But you guys are going to want to come downstairs with me to Sand Bar right away.”
“What for?” Jake asks.
“CNN is looping the latest celebrity sex tape. And you’re not going to believe who has the starring role.”
CHAPTER 56
“Can you believe this sleazeball?” Marcy Faith shouts into the camera.
“She’s talking about you,” Flan says to me.
“I’m aware.”
We’re standing at the bar downstairs, Seamus now more than willing to raise the volume for this, news of the Kevin Corvelli-Erin Simms sex tape that has apparently been making the rounds on the Internet the past three hours.
“Beautiful setting,” Jake says of Erin’s lanai overlooking Kaneohe Bay. “I like the way they were able to capture Chinaman’s Hat in the background.”
“Quality’s good, too,” Flan says. “Even the stills. Have you seen the stills yet, Seamus?”
“Yeah,” Seamus replies, “one of my favorite porn site’s got them. Uncensored, too!”
“Nice.”
“There’s your mistrial, right there, son,” Jake says to me. “Or your suspension.”
“Or disbarment,” Flan throws in.
Jake shrugs. “Is doing your client even prohibited in the Hawaii Ethics Code?”
“I don’t know,” I tell him. “I never bothered reading it.”
“You don’t say.”
“It is one of Milt Cashman’s Ten Commandments, however,” I tell him as I pull out a barstool. “Double Glenlivet on the rocks, Seamus.”
“On the house,” he says.
Well, that’s something at least.
* * *
Two hours later Flan and I are still sitting at a booth in Sand Bar, Jake having taken off for home.
“I’m not putting on a defense,” I tell Flan. “I’ve just decided.”
“You sure that’s a decision you wanna make after throwing back a fifth of Glenlivet?” he says.
I set my glass down. “Seems to be the only time I’m me.”
Flan rests a hand atop the manila folder full of photos I had Hoshi bring down from the conference room a half hour ago. “Then do you still need digital copies of these photos, or should I forget it?”
“Might as well get them,” I say, trying to get the rim of the rocks glass to my lips again. “Won’t cost much. Besides, Harper and Corvelli’s about to pull in six hundred grand on a bail assignment.”
On the table Flan’s cell phone starts dancing around.
“Go ahead,” I say, as though he needed permission. “Tell Casey I said hi.”
Flan stares at the Caller ID. “It’s Baron Lee,” he says. He puts the phone to his ear and has a conversation that I don’t bother listening to. I’m thinking that over the weekend I’ll have to prepare my closing statement.
If only I had someone to point to.
Flan sets down the phone, takes a pull off his Bushmills, then looks up at me. “Not going to believe this,” he tells me.
“What, is FOX News showing pictures of me on the can?”
“Maybe, but that’s small news compared to this, Kev.”
“Let’s hear it, Flan.”
“That unknown print on your Maserati,” he says, “Baron Lee’s found a match.”
“And?”
“And I think this bit of news better wait until you sober up a bit. Because now the shit’s really about to hit the fan.”
CHAPTER 57
“Please call your first witness, Mr. Corvelli.”
“The defense calls Josh Leffler.”
“Objection!”
“Your Honor,” I say, “Mr. Leffler has been on our witness list now for months.”
“Your Honor,” Maddox says, “Mister Leffler is four years old.”
I turn to Maddox. “How do you know how old he is?”
Maddox looks at me. “What?”
“Counselors,” Maxa says, “for the last time, you will direct any and all comments to the Court. And I’ll see you both in my chambers now.” She raps her gavel and stands. “I believe both of you know the way.”
“What’s going on here?” Maxa says to Maddox once we are safely inside her chambers.
“Mr. Corvelli just called a four-year-old to the stand, Your Honor. That’s what’s going on.”
“How about it, Mr. Corvelli?”
“Your Honor, Mr. Leffler—”
“Stop calling him ‘mister,’ Counselor. It’s not going to affect my ruling.”
Maddox steps in. “Your Honor, it is well-established that minors of Josh Leffler’s age are disqualified from testifying under the Hawaii Rules of Evidence.”
“Mr. Maddox couldn’t be more wrong if he tried, Judge. In fact, the Court in Republic versus Ah Wong determined that, quote, ‘There is no precise age within which children are excluded from testifying. Their competency is to be determined, not by their age, but by their degree of knowledge and understanding.’”
Maxa says, “Republic? When was that case decided, Mr. Corvelli?”
“Eighteen ninety-six, Your Honor. And it is still good law.”
“This is absurd,” Maddox says. “Mr. Corvelli is making a mockery of this Court.”
“Your Honor,” I say, “under Rule 603.1 of the Hawaii Rules of Evidence, a person is disqualified to be a witness only if the person is incapable of expressing himself so as to be understood, or incapable of understanding the duty to tell the truth.”
Maxa holds up a hand. “Let me get this straight, Mr. Corvelli. Months ago you argued that you, an officer of this court, were unfit to serve as a witness in this case. Yet today, you are arguing that a four-year-old is perfectly fit to serve as a witness?”
“Precisely, Your Honor. A witness must possess the capacity to perceive and to recollect. Due to my overindulgence on the evening of the fire, I lacked the true capacity for either.”
Maddox barks out a mad laugh. “I feel like I just stepped into another dimension, Your Honor!”
“Judge,” I say, “when Mr. Maddox rejoins us in this dimension, I suggest he refer to the case of Territory versus Titcomb, in which the Court announced that, quote, ‘The proper test must always be, does the lunatic understand what he is saying, and does he understand the obligation of an oath?’ If so, it is up to the jury to determine the weight of his testimony.”
Maxa frowns. “Are you now telling me the boy is a lunatic, Counselor?”
“No, Your Honor. But the lunatic test does apply here.”
“And you said Territory versus Titcomb, did you not?”
“Titcomb, yes, Your Honor. I thought the name was funny, too.”
“No, I’m not referring to Titcomb, Mr. Corvelli. I’m referring to Territory. What year was that case decided?”
“Nineteen thirty-eight, Your Honor.”
“And do you have any case law, Mr. Corvelli, that is dated in the last sixty years or so, since Hawaii became a state?”
“The cases I’m citing are still good law, Your Honor. They have not been overturned. Whether Hawaii was a state, a territory, a republic, a kingdom, or anything else is wholly irrelevant.”
“Your Honor,” Maddox weighs in, “I’d like some time to research this issue…”
“Denied. You’ve had months since you received Mr. Corvelli’s witness list. You should have done your research during that time, as Mr. Corvelli clearly did
.”
“Well,” Maddox tries, “surely Your Honor would like to take the time to research this issue before making a decision of this magnitude.”
“May I?” I say, pointing to the judge’s bookcase. I step past Maddox and remove the Hawaii Rules of Evidence. I open the tome on Maxa’s desk and flip to Rule 603.1. “Here, Your Honor. Each of the cases I cited are right here in the commentary to Rule 603.1. Your research shouldn’t take more than ninety seconds. Mr. Maddox and I can wait in the hall if you’d li—”
“No,” Maxa shouts. “You and Mr. Maddox will wait right here where I can see you. Mr. Curnow from Maintenance adamantly informed me that he’s finished with cleaning up lawyers’ blood outside my chambers.”
CHAPTER 58
“Josh,” I say softly, leaning casually against the witness stand, “do you know the difference between telling the truth and telling a lie?”
The courtroom is empty except for Maddox, Judge Maxa, Erin, Josh and myself, for this, a hearing to determine the competency of Josh Leffler as a witness in the case of State versus Erin Simms.
Josh peeks behind me at Maddox, who stands with his arms folded, trying no doubt to intimidate the little guy.
“Yes,” Josh says tentatively.
“What is truth?” I say.
Again the kid hesitates. I assure him everything is all right.
“That’s when you give test-money and tell what really happened.”
“And what is a lie, Josh?”
“That’s when you make stuff up. Like the police do sometimes.”
I try not to flinch even though that last sentence could lose me my one and only witness. Maddox is already pointing at Josh as if to say, See? The kid’s an idiot. But Maxa nods her head, takes down a note, and tells me to continue.
“If you give testimony in this case, Josh,” I say, “will you tell the truth about what really happened the night of the fire, and about anything else Mr. Maddox, the judge, and I might ask you?”
“I have to,” Josh says, a solemn expression spreading across his face. “I have to and I will.”
* * *
With the jury seated but the gallery cleared, I ask the judge once again if I may approach the witness and she agrees.
“Now, Josh,” I say gently, “do you remember the night of the fire?”
“Of course,” he says. “That’s when my grandma died.”
Slowly, cautiously, I take Josh back to the sixteenth floor of the Liholiho Tower. I have him describe the location of his room, ask him if he remembers a light blue band on the door knob to his neighbor’s suite. He does. He also remembers Grandma going to sleep after taking her Am-beans and how thirsty he was but there was nothing in the room to drink.
“The sink didn’t work,” he says. “And Grandma’s soda tasted all oogie.”
So he grabbed a dollar bill and stepped out into the hall in search of the vending machine he’d spotted earlier. He wanted a Dr Pepper. “Because it’s delicious,” he says.
“What happened when you found the vending machine?” I ask him.
“The red light was lit. That meant no more Dr Pepper.”
“So what did you do?”
He twists a lock of brown hair around his finger. “Nothing.”
I swallow and remind myself to be patient; he’s just a kid. “Well, then, what happened next?”
“You showed up,” he says. “Naked.”
“Well,” I say, my face flushing, “not naked, right?”
“No, you had Underoos on.”
I don’t press the issue. Since the video and stills of Erin and me in the hot tub on her lanai surfaced, I have very little dignity left to protect.
“What happened next?” I say.
“We went downstairs.”
“To another vending machine?”
“Yeah. That one had Dr Pepper in it.”
“So you bought one?”
“You bought half for me.”
“What do you mean by that, Josh?”
“I only had one dollar and Dr Pepper is two dollars where people speak English.”
“You had no change?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because Grandma gave me all her coins downstairs so that I could make wishes.”
“Every coin she had?”
“Yeah. When I asked for more, she showed me her empty purse.”
“And you threw these coins your grandmother gave you into the fountain downstairs in the resort’s lobby?”
“Yeah, and I made wishes.”
“One wish over and over? Or many wishes?” I ask.
“Many wishes.”
“And what was your most important wish, Josh?”
“I can’t tell you or it won’t come true.”
“Fair enough,” I say, smiling over at the jury.
I take Josh through the rest of the night, from the trip back upstairs to being locked out of his room, to the alarm shrieking while he sat alone in the stairwell, peeing his pants. He tells the jury about how I found him surrounded by murderous black smoke, how I lifted him onto my shoulder and carried him down “thousands” of flights of stairs, how I saved him from the fire.
“But no one saved Grandma,” he says.
In the back of the courtroom one of the double doors opens and Hoshi pokes her head in.
“I’m sorry, young lady,” Maxa says. “But this is presently a closed trial.”
“Your Honor, if I may have a moment,” I say, “that young lady is my assistant.”
“Very well, Mr. Corvelli. But please make it brief.”
I head to the rear of the courtroom, where Hoshi is holding a small manila envelope. She hands it to me. I open it, take a glimpse at the photograph inside, and nod my head.
“One more thing,” I whisper to Hoshi. “Head back to Ms. Raffa’s office and tell her I said, ‘Mahalo.’ And tell her … Tell her that I’m glad we’re friends again.”
Hoshi nods and then she’s swiftly out the door again.
“Josh,” I say when I return to the witness stand after placing the envelope inside my suit jacket, “will you please tell us what you were doing at the Kupulupulu Beach Resort on the night of the fire? What was your purpose for being there with your grandmother?”
“Grandma was going to take me away from the island,” he says.
“To the mainland?”
He nods. I remind him he has to speak up for the court reporter. “Yes,” he says way too loudly into the microphone. A court officer steps over to adjust the mike and to demonstrate to Josh how he should use it.
“Why was Grandma taking you to the mainland?” I ask once the court officer steps away again.
“To live with her.”
“Why were you going to live with your grandmother?”
In a small voice, he says, “Because my mommy died.”
“I’m sorry,” I tell him. “When did your mommy die?”
“The night before the fourth of July.”
“Where? Where did your mommy die, Josh?”
“In the ocean.”
“In the ocean, where?”
Fighting tears, he says softly, “Behind my house.”
“Up North Shore?”
“Yeah.”
“By Ke Iki Beach?”
“Yeah.”
“How? How did your mommy die, Josh?”
Maddox leaps to his feet. “Objection, Your Honor. Relevance?”
“Can we not talk about this?” Josh asks me.
“I’m sorry, Josh,” I tell him, “but we have to. Just for a little while.” I turn to the judge. “Your Honor, if you’ll allow me just some leeway, I’ll establish the relevancy within the next few questions.”
“Overruled,” Maxa says. “But don’t stray too far, Mr. Corvelli.”
Josh sets his gaze on Maddox and his lower lip begins to tremble. I take a deliberate step to my right blocking Josh’s view of the prosecutor.
“How did your mom
my die?” I say again.
“She drownded,” Josh says, eyes tearing up.
“Drowned?”
“Yeah.”
I picture the kid as we stood alone in his room, gazing out his window. I see him holding his binoculars to his eyes, watching for the horizon.
“Did you see your mommy die?” I say.
“Objection!”
Josh heads into a full-on cry.
“Counselor?” Maxa says to me. “Is this really necessary?”
“It is, Your Honor.” I say again to Josh, this time a little firmer: “Did you see your mommy die, Josh?”
Josh is shaking his head, wiping tears as they come.
“Remember what we talked about, Josh,” I say. “Remember what happens if you don’t tell the truth.”
He looks up at me from between his tiny fingers.
When he does, I motion with my eyes to Judge Maxa and grimace theatrically.
“Did you see your mommy die?” I repeat.
The kid breaks, holds his head in his hands.
Maddox says: “This is awful, Your Honor. At the very minimum, I suggest we take a recess.”
“No, Your Honor,” I say. “We’re almost done here. Did you see your mommy die, Josh?” I say again. “The truth. Did you see your mommy die?”
“Yes!” he finally cries out.
“With your binoculars?”
“Yes!”
“From your bedroom window, Josh?”
“Yes!”
“And did she die from an accident like the police told you?”
“No!”
“Objection, Your Honor! This is getting—”
“Shut up!” I scream back at him.
Maxa is rapping her gavel, yelling at both of us.
“Was she alone when she died, Josh?” I say urgently.
More hysterics, crying, shaking of the body, shaking of the head. I want to reach out and grab the kid, lift him in my arms, and carry him out of here, just as I did on the night of the fire. But someone else in this courtroom needs saving today and someone else needs to get burned.
“Was she alone when she died?” I repeat.
“No!” Josh cries out. “She wasn’t alone!”
“Who was with your mommy when she died, Josh? A man or a woman?”
Night on Fire Page 23