Serve and Protect (Mike Daley/Rosie Fernandez Legal Thriller Book 9)

by Sheldon Siegel

  “Yes.”

  I hope so. “I know this is tough, Johnny, but from a legal standpoint, your actions were completely justified.”

  “That’s good, right?”

  “Right.” My mind raced. “You said that you were wearing your body cam, right?”

  “I was.” He confirmed that his car was not equipped with a dash cam.

  “So there should be footage of everything.”

  “Most of it.”

  “What about the part where you shot Jones?”

  “No. The camera came off when I jumped the fence to get into the parking lot.”

  “Have you seen the video?”

  “No. We aren’t allowed to look at it before we give our statement.”

  I was aware of this policy. They didn’t want the cops to adjust their stories to match up with what they’d already seen on tape. “Are you sure that we’ll be able to see a gun in Jones’s hand when he got out of the car?”

  “Yes.”

  “Was your partner wearing a body cam?”

  “Yes, but I don’t know if it was turned on.”

  We’ll find out. “Where was he when you shot Jones?”

  “Outside the fence. So were two other officers who provided backup. They must have seen what happened.”

  “Is it possible that one of the other officers caught this on video?”

  “Possibly.”

  “Was anybody else around? Maybe somebody recorded something on their cell phone.”

  “I doubt it.”

  The door opened. Instead of the young cop who had let us in, we were met by the imposing presence of my father’s first partner. At eighty-two, Roosevelt Johnson’s baritone was hoarse, but still forceful. “I didn’t expect to see you here, Mike.”

  “I didn’t expect to see you, either, Roosevelt.”

  He nodded at Johnny’s uncle. “Luca.”

  “Roosevelt.”

  My tone was respectful. “Could you please check with the chief and let us know when Johnny can go home?”

  “I’m afraid that isn’t possible.”

  “He’s given his statement.”

  He looked at Johnny, then he turned back to me. “I’m here to inform you that I am placing your client under arrest for the murder of Juwon Jones.”

  7

  “YOU CAN’T BE SERIOUS”

  My stomached tightened. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Yes, I am.” Roosevelt’s voice was controlled. “Please step out of the way so that we can begin processing Officer Bacigalupi.”

  “You’re making a mistake.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  Luca spoke up. “Yes, you are.”

  “We’ll talk about it another time, Luca.”

  “We’ll talk about it now, Roosevelt. If you insist on filing spurious charges against my nephew, I will file a lawsuit first thing tomorrow morning against the City, SFPD, and you personally for wrongful imprisonment and false arrest.”

  “That’s up to you.”

  “I can make your life difficult, Roosevelt.”

  Threatening Roosevelt isn’t a winning strategy.

  Roosevelt exhaled. “I’ve been doing this for a long time, Luca. Do what you have to do.”

  “I will.”

  Roosevelt turned back to me. “I need to take your client to booking at the Hall of Justice. As a courtesy to you, if he agrees to cooperate, we can dispense with handcuffs.”

  “Thank you.” I turned to Johnny. “It will make your life easier if you cooperate.”

  His voice was a whisper. “Okay.”

  “Except for your name, address, and date of birth, I don’t want you to say a word to anyone. Not to Inspector Johnson. Not to the other officers. Not to anybody from the D.A.’s Office. And, most important, not to the people in booking. Understood?”

  “Yes.”

  “We’ll take care of this, Johnny.”

  His voice filled with panic. “It was self-defense. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “Don’t say anything else.”

  Luca spoke up again. “Inspector, would you please give me a moment with my nephew?”

  “That would violate procedure.”

  “Do you think we’re going to try to escape from a windowless room in headquarters?”

  “Two minutes.” Roosevelt stepped outside, closing the door behind him.

  Luca turned to me. “Would you please wait outside? I want a word with Johnny.”

  What’s this about? “Sure.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  My father’s first partner stood with his back to the wall. Without looking at me, he said, “How do you like this building?”

  “Not bad. Are they going to move Homicide over here?”

  “Maybe someday.”

  The Homicide Detail was still housed in a drafty bullpen area on the fourth floor of the Hall. Efforts to find a new home were moving slowly.

  “How’s Rosie?” he asked.

  “Fine.”

  “Is her mother okay?”

  “Yes.”

  “Grace and Tommy? Pete and his family?”

  “All good.”

  “Glad to hear it.” If you listened attentively, you could still discern a hint of his native Texas in his voice. He had moved to San Francisco seventy-five years earlier when his father found work in the naval shipyard at Hunters Point. He removed the toothpick from his mouth. “Why are you here?”

  “I’m Johnny’s godfather. Gio and I were classmates at S.I. And I’m a defense lawyer.”

  “Doesn’t mean you have to represent him. He isn’t going to qualify for a P.D.”

  I’m well aware of that. “Gio asked me.”

  He glanced at the deputy who was standing down the hall. He turned back to me and lowered his voice. “It’s bad, Mike. He shot an unarmed kid.”

  “It was self-defense. The kid had a gun.”

  “No, he didn’t.” He wouldn’t provide any additional details.

  “Why are you here?” I asked.

  He took off his aviator-style bifocals and wiped them with a cloth. I’d seen this gesture countless times at our dinner table on Sunday nights. Roosevelt was deciding how much he wanted to tell me. “The chief, the mayor, and the D.A. asked me. As you know, we’ve had some less-than-satisfactory results with officer-involved shootings. They want somebody with gray hair to make sure this is handled by the book.”

  Good choice. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “I can’t talk now.”

  “I’ll call you later.”

  “You know where to find me.” He put his glasses back on. “High-profile cases get a life of their own, Mike. You should extricate yourself as quickly as you can.”

  “Thanks, Roosevelt. I will.”

  The door opened, and Luca appeared. “Johnny is ready.”

  Roosevelt nodded. “Thank you.”

  Johnny’s face was pale as Roosevelt read him his rights. Luca and I remained silent as we watched Roosevelt escort him down the hall.

  Time to get to work. I turned to Luca. “Tell Gio to meet us at the P.D.’s Office.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  “What did you tell Johnny?” I asked.

  Luca and I were walking out the back door of headquarters to avoid the reporters.

  His eyes narrowed. “That we’ll take care of this. What did Roosevelt tell you?”

  “He said that Johnny shot an unarmed kid.”

  “Johnny told me that he shot him in self-defense. This is a publicity stunt by the chief or the mayor. I expect you to get Johnny out of here by the end of the day.”

  That’s unlikely. “We’ll talk about it later.”

  “We’ll talk about it now.”

  “If they charge him with first-degree murder, it will be difficult to get bail.”

  “They’ll never charge first-degree.”

  I hope you’re right. “Either way, I’ll help you find somebody to handle it.”

  “I want you to han
dle it.”

  “Johnny won’t qualify for a public defender.”

  “You’re his godfather.”

  “We have procedures.”

  “We’ll talk about it when we get back to the office.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  My iPhone vibrated as Luca and I were walking across Bryant toward the P.D.’s Office. Pete’s name appeared on the display. His voice was tense. “They arrested him.”

  “Yeah.” Word travels fast. “Where are you?”

  “Still in the Fillmore. I’ll let you know if I find anything.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Rosie stood outside her office. “I saw Roosevelt on TV. He said that they’re charging Johnny with murder.”

  “They’re saying he shot an unarmed kid.”

  “Did he?”

  “Johnny said the kid had a gun. He shot him in self-defense.”

  “I just saw Luca go into the conference room.”

  “Gio will be here shortly.”

  “You can’t take this case, Mike.”

  “I’ll help Luca and Gio find somebody.”

  “Maria texted me. She’s coming over to meet Gio.”

  Maria Cereghino Bacigalupi was Gio’s wife. She was also a classmate of Rosie’s at Mercy High. “Do you have time to join us? It’ll make her feel better.”

  “I have to get on a call.”

  “Can it wait?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  8

  “THEY’RE SAYING OUR SON IS A MURDERER”

  Maria Bacigalupi sat between her husband and her brother-in-law on mismatched chairs in the conference room down the hall from my office. The retired second-grade teacher clutched Gio’s hand. “Thank you for seeing us,” she whispered to me. “We need your help.”

  “We’ll take care of this, Maria.”

  At five-one and a hundred pounds of tightly wound energy, the daughter of a Mission District firefighter didn’t suffer fools and wasn’t shy about expressing her opinions. “They’re saying our son is a murderer.”

  “Don’t believe everything you hear.”

  Her brown eyes turned to cold steel. “Between TV, radio, the Internet, Twitter, and Facebook, you would think that Johnny has already been tried, convicted, and put in prison.”

  I had no good response. “It’s better if you try to ignore it.”

  “I can’t.” She held up her cell phone. “Look at the headline on the Chronicle’s website.”

  It read, “Rookie Cop Arrested for Murder.”

  Maria set the phone down. “Johnny could have been killed. The mayor and the chief are more concerned about a street punk than a police officer. They’re saying he shot an unarmed man. There is going to be a march from City Hall to the Fillmore tonight. They’re worried about riots.”

  “That’s out of our control.”

  She let go of Gio’s hand and pointed at me. “We have to do something, Mike.”

  “We will.” I turned to Gio. “What have you heard?”

  “Nobody’s talking. The chief must have told everybody not to talk to me. He’s playing to the media. He’s using Johnny to win political points.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Come on, Mike. The mayor brought him in to deal with situations like this one. They’re worried about another Ferguson here in San Francisco.” He pushed out a frustrated sigh. “And he’s trying to screw my kid and me.”

  “You don’t know that, either.”

  “Yes, I do. I can take care of myself. For now, we need to focus on Johnny.”

  “Agreed.”

  “I want you to go over to the Hall of Justice, find a judge, and get bail.”

  Bail will run well into seven figures—if I can persuade a judge to grant it. “First, I will help you find a top-notch criminal defense lawyer for Johnny.”

  Gio exchanged a glance with his brother. It was Luca who spoke. “We found one: you.”

  Maria nodded.

  I held up a hand. “I can’t do it.”

  Luca answered again. “Yes, you can.”

  “Johnny won’t qualify for a P.D.”

  “We’ll hire you separately.”

  “I’m not allowed to do that.”

  “Then we’ll need to find a way to make it happen.”

  “It’s written in black-and-white in my contract. I’m not permitted to moonlight.”

  “There must be a way around it. You can do it on your own time.”

  “I’d have to quit.”

  “No, you wouldn’t.”

  “Yes, I would. Even if I did, you can’t expect me to set up my own firm and request a bail hearing for Johnny this afternoon.”

  “You can work for my firm. We’ll pay you a very generous hourly rate. We’ll put you on our malpractice policy. If it’s an issue of health insurance, we’ll put you on our plan.”

  “This isn’t about money.”

  “You’re right. This is about Johnny.”

  “There are a lot of good defense lawyers in town.”

  “You’re one of the best. And we know you.”

  We sat in silence for a long moment. Finally, Maria spoke to me in the voice of an anguished mother. “Please, Michael. Johnny needs you.”

  “I need to talk to Rosie.”

  9

  “I HAVE A PROPOSITION FOR YOU”

  Rosie’s response was a succinct “No.”

  I figured this was coming. “Can we talk about this?”

  “There’s nothing to discuss. You signed an agreement with the City stating that you wouldn’t work on cases outside the P.D.’s Office.”

  “Sometimes you need to be flexible.”

  “We have rules.”

  “They can be bent.”

  “Not in this case. There are some things that I just can’t allow. The head of the Felony Division can’t take time off to handle a case outside the office.”

  “We’ve lent out attorneys.”

  “Only to other public defenders in circumstances where they were shorthanded or somebody in our office had a particular expertise.”

  “We’ve let people help friends and family from time to time.”

  “Not on my watch.”

  “Rolanda helped her cousin when he got picked up on a D.U.I.”

  “That was different. It was one afternoon in court. It wasn’t a high-profile matter. And Rolanda wasn’t the head of the Felony Division.”

  “I’ll tell Gio that I’ll do this only until we find somebody else to step in.”

  “It’s like being a little pregnant, Mike. If you’re the lead attorney, no judge will let you back out at the last minute.”

  “Johnny wants me to represent him. Gio and I go back a long way. His dad and my dad went back even longer.”

  “I can’t do it, Mike.”

  “Maria wants me to represent her son. I’ll take a temporary leave of absence.”

  “This case could last years.”

  That much was true. In California, defendants have the right to demand a trial within sixty days, but that happens only on TV. The investigation and witness interviews could take months. And that didn’t count pre-trial motions and other legal maneuvering. “At the very least, let me deal with this for a couple of weeks.”

  “It will look like I’m giving special treatment to my ex-husband and the son of an assistant chief. It will set a terrible precedent.”

  “What if somebody offered Rolanda a million dollars to take a case outside the office?”

  The corner of her mouth turned up. “I’d tell her to take the money.”

  “So would I.”

  Her tone turned serious. “You can’t do a case outside the office and get paid by somebody else.”

  “I’ll do it pro bono.”

  “The taxpayers are still paying your salary.”

  “Then I’ll take an unpaid leave.”

  “I’ll get crucified by the press.”

  “I’ll take the hit for you.”

  “Easy f
or you to say. Your name won’t be on the ballot at the next election.” My ex-wife, best friend, confidante, lover, and the Public Defender of the City and County of San Francisco drummed her fingers on her desk. “This isn’t going to work, Mike.”

  “You’re saying that the only way that I can handle Johnny’s case is if I quit?”

  “Don’t put me in that position.”

  “I’m just trying to clarify exactly where you stand.”

  “The answer is yes.”

  I understood. Coincidentally, it was probably the right call. “I need to think about it.”

  There was a knock. Terrence the Terminator let himself in and closed the door behind him. “Mr. Bacigalupi wants to know if he can speak to you for a moment.”

  “Gio?” Rosie asked.

  “Luca.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Luca’s smile was sincere, and his tone was warm. “Nice to see you, Rosie.”

  “Nice to see you, too, Luca. Are Gio and Maria still here?”

  “They went to police headquarters.”

  They exchanged abbreviated pleasantries. Luca was smoother than the bottle of Talisker single malt Scotch that he kept in his office. Rosie could command a packed courtroom, conference room, or political rally without raising her voice. The only people on Planet Earth who could tell when she was irritated were her mother, our kids, and me.

  Luca feigned appreciation. “I’m grateful that you’ve taken a moment to see me.”

  Rosie flashed her politician’s smile. “I appreciated your family’s efforts on the campaign.”

  Especially since everybody except Luca is a cop. It was unusual for members of SFPD to support a candidate for public defender.

  Luca returned her smile. “You’re family, Rosie.”

  “You’re kind, Luca.”

  And generous. He contributed ten grand to Rosie’s campaign.

  Luca’s eyes locked onto Rosie’s. “We need Mike’s help.”

  Rosie held her palms up. “He can’t do it.”

  “It’s for Johnny.”

  “Not even for Johnny.”

  “Maria and Gio would be much more comfortable if Mike handled Johnny’s case.”

  “Mike works for the Public Defender’s Office. He isn’t allowed to freelance. I’m sorry, Luca. You know how we feel about your family.”

  “And you know how we feel about yours. That’s why I need you to make an exception.”