by Michael Kahn
“How much did you pay Corundum Construction Company for their work?”
“I don’t recall.”
“You don’t?”
“No.”
“Just two years ago and you don’t recall.”
“I don’t.”
“Let’s see if we can refresh your recollection, sir. We have a construction costs expert, Robert Early, who will testify later in this hearing that the average price range for the construction of your pool and deck is $30,000 to $35,000. Does that refresh your recollection?”
“No.”
“Assuming our expert is correct, would you expect that you paid somewhere between thirty and thirty-five thousand for that pool and deck?”
“I don’t know.”
“Mr. Bennett, the subpoena asked you to bring to court today copies of your contract with Corundum and all payments under that contract. Have you brought them, sir?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
He shrugged. “I guess I must have discarded them.”
“What about the check register, sir? Did you bring that?”
“I guess I must have discarded that, too.”
I turned toward Jacki and nodded. The monitor screen displayed a blow-up of a canceled check from Clyde and Elizabeth Bennett to Corundum Construction Company in the amount of four thousand dollars.
“Mr. Bennett, up on the screen is a copy of Plaintiffs’ Exhibit Seven. We obtained it through a subpoena served on your bank. That, sir, is the only check from your account to Corundum Construction during the past five years. Do you recognize that check?”
Bennett stared at the check, his jaw slightly agape.
“Let me repeat, sir. Do you recognize that check?”
He turned toward the gallery. I followed his gaze.
I said, “Is that your attorney who just signaled you?”
“What?” Bennett said, flustered.
He pulled a slip of paper out of his shirt pocket and placed it on the ledge in front of him.
“Sir, directing your attention back to Exhibit Seven, is that your check?”
He read from the slip of paper, “On Counsel’s advice, I invoke my right under the Fifth Amendment not to answer on the grounds that I may incriminate myself.”
“Is that your signature on the check?”
“On Counsel’s advice, I invoke my right under the Fifth Amendment not to answer on the grounds that I may incriminate myself.”
“Is that check for four thousand dollars the entire amount you paid for the swimming pool and deck that Corundum Construction built for you?”
“On Counsel’s advice, I invoke my right under the Fifth Amendment not to answer on the grounds that I may incriminate myself.”
“Did you agree to vote in favor of the Ruby Productions TIF in exchange for that deal on your swimming pool and deck?”
He looked up with a dazed expression, hesitated, and looked down again. “On counsel’s advice, I invoke my right under the Fifth Amendment not to answer on the grounds that I may incriminate myself.”
“With whom did you discuss that deal?”
“On Counsel’s advice, I invoke my right under the Fifth Amendment not to answer on the grounds that I may incriminate myself.”
“Did you discuss that deal with a representative of Ruby Productions?”
“On Counsel’s advice, I invoke my right under the Fifth Amendment not to answer on the grounds that I may incriminate myself.”
“Let’s cut to the chase, Mr. Bennett. Did you sell your vote on the TIF for a swimming pool and deck?”
He winced.
I waited.
“Well?” I said.
He looked into the courtroom crowd and then down at the slip of paper. “On Counsel’s advice, I invoke my right under the Fifth Amendment not to answer on the grounds that I may incriminate myself.”
“No further questions.”
I turned toward Rob Crane. “Your witness.”
Crane stared at Bennett as I returned to the table. Still up on the monitor was the blow-up of Clyde Bennett’s $4,000 check to Corundum Construction Company with the notation Pool/Deck on the memo line.
Judge Flinch was also staring at Bennett. He snorted and shook his head in disbelief.
“Well, well, well, Mr. Bennett. Good thing you had your cheat sheet up here. Otherwise you might have had to answer one of those questions.”
The judge turned to Crane. “You got anything you want to ask this guy?”
Crane shook his head. “No questions, Your Honor.”
“Mr. Bennett,” the judge said, “I got one question for you.”
Bennett looked at the judge, his eyes blinking.
“Sir,” the judge said, “have you no shame?”
“Pardon?”
“That’s my one question. Have you no shame?”
Bennett, clearly flustered, looked down at this slip of paper.“On Counsel’s advice, I invoke my right under the Fifth Amendment not to answer on the grounds that I may incriminate myself.”
Flinch laughed. “You’re plenty incriminated already. You’re dismissed.”
He turned to the courtroom and raised his silver gavel. “Let’s put on the feed bag, eh? Lunch recess. See you all back here at one-thirty.”
He banged the gavel down.
“All rise!”
Chapter Fifty-one
I was leafing through my folder of exhibits at counsel’s table. Off to my left, a reporter from Channel 4 was doing a stand-up in sotto voce, summarizing the highlights of the morning’s hearing. She and her cameraman had been waiting for me in the hallway after lunch, but I told them I couldn’t comment.
Benny was at my side. Without looking up from my documents, I said quietly, “Some new faces in the crowd this afternoon.”
“Yeah?” Benny turned around to look.“Such as?”
“Back row. Far left. Plaid jacket. That’s Bertie Tomaso.”
“Oh, right.”
“Same row, near the aisle, woman in the grey suit. Sarah Polinsky.”
“Who’s she?”
“Assistant U.S. Attorney.”
“Sweet.”
“Row in front of her. Two guys from the county prosecutor’s office.”
“Even sweeter.” He turned back to me. “This little hearing is turning into a major cluster fuck for Rubenstein.”
“And Crane,” I said.
I had two missed calls from him over lunch.
“Where’s Jacki?” Benny asked.
“She’s in the attorneys’ break room going over her witness notes.”
“Is she putting on all three?” Benny said.
I nodded. “The more the merrier. We want to keep our judge happy.”
Benny chuckled. “Happy? He’ll be pitching a tent under that robe before she has the first witness sworn in. What’s the latest on Honest Abe?”
“He’s a definite go. I told him to be here by three. I’m hoping the judge takes an afternoon break before I have to put him on. I want to talk to him again. Crane’s freaking out.”
“Oh?”
“According to Abe, Crane has called him three times. Abe’s not taking his calls.”
Benny chuckled. “This has to be a first.”
“What?”
“Our best witness is a genuine used-car salesman.”
“He’ll be a star.”
“I bet he’s thinking the same thing. It’ll be his first time on TV before midnight. Guy has the tackiest commercials in town.”
“Rachel?”
Rob Crane stood alone by his table. His entourage was off to the side, all busily thumb-typing emails on their iPhones. Rubenstein stood over by the jury box talking to someone on his cell phone in hushed tones. He turned
toward me and then turned away quickly. His demeanor had changed for the worse as the day wore on. He was clearly rattled by the proceedings.
Crane stepped over to our table. “Can we talk somewhere?”
I glanced over at the wall clock. It was 1:25. The lunch recess was supposed to end at 1:30.
“We don’t have time. The judge could be out any second.”
Benny stood. “I’ll go get Jacki.”
“We need to talk,” Crane said.
“We can do it at the afternoon break.”
He scanned the gallery and stepped closer in. “Who are you calling before the break?”
I knew what he wanted to know. I’d make him ask me specifically.
“More city officials,” I said.
“Which ones?”
“Three or four. Depends how far we get before the next break.”
He moved in so close that our faces were less than a foot apart. “What about Abe Johnson?”
“What about him?”
“When are you calling him?”
“Why do you ask?”
He stared at me. “Please don’t call him before the break. We need to talk.”
Please?
I studied his face. I could see the fault lines. Ever since discovering his client’s connection to Barbara Weiss, I’d been mulling another approach to the hearing, a way to cut through the evidentiary underbrush to get where I wanted go. A lot riskier, yes, but maybe a lot more effective, too.
I shrugged. “We’ll see what happens.”
The buzzer sounded.
“All rise!”
Chapter Fifty-two
Jacki put on the next three witnesses—all city officials. Given that we knew all three witnesses would refuse to answer the key questions on Fifth Amendment grounds, her challenge was twofold: to elicit certain basic admissions from each witness and then to use their Fifth Amendment refusals-to-answer as a way to “testify” through her questions. She achieved both objectives with each witness. Specifically:
From Elizabeth O’Shea, a member of the Glenview City Counsel, we learned that she paid only four thousand dollars for the opulent build-out of her basement, which included a movie theater, a rec room, an exercise room, a wet bar, sauna, and two bathrooms.
From Brett Annis, a member of the Edgewood City Counsel and a certified public accountant, we learned that he paid only six thousand dollars for a home addition that included a family room and new deck.
From Dr. Barry Haven, a Brookfield alderman, we learned that he paid the bargain price of two thousand dollars for an elaborate two-level cedar deck that included a hot tub and wet bar.
In each case, our own expert witness, Robert Early, would soon be testifying that these city officials—and the others on the witness list—had paid less than ten percent of the going rate for their home improvements.
And from each of her three witnesses Jacki elicited a Fifth Amendment non-answer to a series of the most incriminating possible questions, such as: “Did you enter into an agreement with your co-conspirator to sell your vote on the TIF in exchange for a cut-rate price on your home improvement?”
Rob Crane had no cross-examination for any of them.
As I hoped, after the third witness the judge announced that the court would take the afternoon recess.
Crane came over. “Can we talk?”
I scanned the gallery.
“Let me go out in the hall a moment,” I said. “I want to see if my next witness is here.”
“I’ll be in the attorneys’ break room. We need to talk.”
“I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
I congratulated Jacki on her performance, and we walked out to the hall to see if we could find Abraham Lincoln Johnson. I couldn’t be sure how Rob Crane would react to my “suggestion,” and thus needed to be sure that Johnson was prepared to take the witness stand after the recess and deliver the knockout punch.
Although the hallway was crowded, Johnson was easy to spot. He was the only three-hundred-pound coal-black African-American man with wraparound sunglasses, a neatly trimmed goatee, and an outfit familiar to anyone who had watched one of his late-night TV commercials for Honest Abe’s Pre-Owned Paradise, namely, an iridescent green sports jacket over a pale pastel silk shirt, red double-knit slacks, and a pair of shiny black alligator boots. He was surrounded by people, some of whom were asking for autographs. I assumed the autograph seekers were motivated more by his TV commercials than by his tenure as a member of the Cloverdale City Council, where he had voted against the Brittany Woods TIF.
“What’s this week’s Emancipation Proclamation?” an elderly man asked.
Johnson’s TV spots—all shot with him standing on his used-car lot—included the Emancipation Proclamation of the Week, which was a special car deal that would “emancipate” his customers from their current plight.
Johnson looked up from the sheet of notebook paper he was signing for a young black courtroom bailiff and grinned.
“Oh, my friend,” he said in his Sunday-morning-Baptist-preacher baritone, “this week is truly an Honest Abe week, praise God. Our emancipation proclamation covers none other than Honest Abe’s namesake, the Lincoln. Yes, the noble Lincoln. We got ourselves vintage Lincolns, classic Lincolns and even a few barely-driven Lincolns, and all at prices that would make Mary Todd Lincoln herself drop to her knees and praise Jesus. So come on down, my friend, and Honest Abe will set your free.”
“Mr. Johnson?” I said.
He turned toward me and smiled. “Yes, young lady. What can I do for you?”
“I’m Rachel Gold.”
“Ah, the lovely lady lawyer.” He bowed. “A pleasure, my dear.”
“This is Jacki Brand. She’s my co-counsel.”
His eyes widened as he gazed up at her. “Greetings, Miss Brand. My, oh my, you are a fine specimen of a woman.”
I said, “The Court is in recess for twenty minutes, sir. Perhaps you and Ms. Brand could talk in the witness room.”
“Lead the way, Miss Brand.”
I left Jacki with Abe Johnson and went across the hall to the attorneys’ break room, pausing to peer through the glass panel in the door. Crane was inside, alone, pacing. I opened the door.
“Okay,” I said. “What is it?”
“Are you telling the truth?”
“About what?”
“About this hearing? About your investigation?”
“What are you talking about, Rob?”
“This whole thing. Is this only about that Nick Moran?”
“Only? The man is dead, Rob. He was a good man. I’m convinced he was murdered. That’s more than enough reason for me.”
“But all the rest.” He waved his hand. “Corundum, the kickbacks—that’s not what this is about?”
“Not if I get my questions about Nick answered.”
“Then why focus on this other stuff?”
“Because from what I’ve seen so far, his death is connected to that other stuff. So that’s where I’m looking for my answer.”
Crane stared at me. I stared back, trying to get a read.
Now or never, I told myself.
“I’ve been thinking, Rob.”
“About what?”
“Changing the order of the witnesses.”
“What do you mean?”
“The judge is getting sick of the Fifth Amendment. We’re putting on our expert witness next. Benny will handle him. But after our expert I was planning to call Abe Johnson. Abe won’t be taking the Fifth. He’s prepared to testify. To tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.”
I watched Crane struggle to hide his emotions.
“But I’ve been thinking about calling another witness before Abe.”
“Who?”
“Your clien
t.”
Crane frowned. “Ken?”
“Yes, Ken.”
“Why?”
“I know for sure that Abe has valuable information about Corundum, but I’m thinking Ken might have more valuable information about Nick Moran’s death. If he does, I may not ever need to call Abe. But you know what my problem is?”
“What?”
“The Fifth Amendment. As I said, the judge is getting sick of it.”
Crane said nothing.
I said, “I had assumed Nick’s death had something to do with Corundum, but now I’m thinking it might be more personal than that. If so, and if I can make that connection through Ken, I won’t need Abe. I can rest after Ken testifies.”
I checked my watch and started for the door. As I turned the knob, I looked back toward Crane, who was staring down at the floor.
“Of course,” I said, waiting until he looked up, “that assumes that Ken doesn’t start taking the Fifth Amendment when my questions get personal. I’ll let you know when I’m about to get personal. We’ll see what happens. Either he’ll answer those questions or, well, I’ll move on to Abe.”
I walked into the courtroom. Benny was up at counsel’s table. Rubenstein was working on a crossword puzzle. Crane’s entourage was seated and looking back toward the courtroom door, where Crane had just entered.
I leaned in close to Benny.“We’re changing the order.”
“How?”
“Your guy Early is ready to go, right?”
He nodded.
“Put him on next. When Jacki gets back, tell her we may need to move Abe to the morning. I’ll be back.”
“Where are you going?”
“Just out in the hall.”
“Why?”
“I need to get my thoughts organized.”
“Whose your next witness?”
I gestured toward the other table.
Benny raised his eyes, frowned, and then nodded.
“Go get ready, girl. We’ll take care of things here.”
“Thanks.”
I started to leave but he grabbed my arm.
“What?” I whispered.
He gave me a wink. “Good luck.”
Chapter Fifty-three
“Next witness.”