“Smoking, you said? What hotel was he going to stay at?”
“Yes, smoking. I don’t know what that meant. For a minute after he hung up, I thought maybe it was a code word, but we couldn’t relate it to anything. Oh, the name of the hotel is the Floridian Inn on Brickell Avenue.
“Please don’t be offended, but has Luis ever been in trouble before? Arrested for anything? How old is Luis? He looks very young. Is he over eighteen?”
“Luis is a good boy,” Maria broke in.
“Maria, por favor,” said Mr. Corona. “Luis is twenty-two. He is, how do you say, a free spirit. A high-spirited boy. He’s never actually been arrested, but he and his friends have been known to drink a bit much. We have a club scene here in B.A. like your South Beach. A few years ago, he got tossed out of a club for trespassing after being asked to leave, but he’s been improving, trying to be more adult. That’s why we thought if we showed him our trust, it would be good for him to have some business to attend to.”
“Okay, I understand. I’ll be working on locating him and finding out what he’s been formally charged with. Before you hear this from someone else, I should tell you that the media has written that he may be charged as a terrorist. Please, don’t be alarmed. Rumors get blown out of proportion, especially after 9/11. If you like, you can call or e-mail me on a daily basis, and I’ll keep you informed of everything I know. I’ll put my assistant, Catherine, on the line now so she can tell you how to reach me, and she’ll get all of your information.”
“Ms. Katz, please, do everything you can, and please know that I will pay whatever fees and expenses are necessary,” Mr. Corona said.
“Please, call me Mary, and I appreciate your generosity.”
“And you must call us Miguel and Maria. I’ll call you tomorrow.” I heard Maria crying softly in the background.
Things were beginning to add up. The Floridian Inn was where a murdered man was found last week, and he was registered as a citizen of Argentina. The cops found a large sum of money. Along comes Luis from Argentina, also carrying a large amount of cash. He’s also booked into the Floridian Inn. But smoking? What is that about? This was like trying to assemble a huge jigsaw puzzle with half the pieces missing.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
I pulled off of the freeway and into the lot in front of the office of the state attorney, part of the Justice Complex. Besides the courthouse, this complex consists of the multistory office housing most of the two hundred plus assistant state attorneys and their support staffs, a smaller building for the public defenders, and some low-rise office buildings that handle the overflow. Defendants call it the Injustice Complex, and I’ll admit some of the attorneys do too.
I entered the reception area, which was teeming with impatient citizens. Six receptionists sat behind glass windows attempting to triage the continuous lines of people. Those arriving for depositions were sent to an adjoining waiting room filled to capacity. Members of the public who had come to complain or file complaints were sent to the third floor where desks filled with paralegals would interview them.
Police officers arriving for pretrial conferences were dispatched to various paralegals and assistant state attorneys.
Those of us with actual appointments were allowed beyond the receptionists to the inner sanctum. After being issued my visitor’s badge, I was admitted to the suite of offices housing the state attorney. More receptionists were seated behind a counter. I checked in and was told to wait a minute. Olga appeared almost at once and took me directly into Jason’s private office.
Jason was munching on a doughnut as he rose to greet me. A telephone on his desk had ten buttons, all of which were lighted.
“Sorry,” Jason said as he stuffed the rest of the doughnut in his mouth. “I didn’t have time for breakfast, again, and this is the first chance I’ve had to grab some food. My wife is threatening me with divorce or a new will if I don’t start eating regular meals.”
Jason looked very thin. I noticed that his hair had begun to recede.
“Are you still sure you’re glad you won the election? Somehow, this doesn’t look like fun,” I said. I grabbed the chair across from him. “I’m really sorry to bother you with a new problem. It looks like you’ve got plenty already.”
“Let me hear what’s up, Mary.” He leaned back in his chair and smiled at me.
“I’ve been retained by Judge Elizabeth Maxwell. I think you’re off on a wrong track with one of your investigations. Judge Maxwell was informed that your office is investigating her concerning her handling of some drug cases. As I’m sure you know, she has an excellent reputation. The stigma of this investigation is career threatening. From what she was told by the chief judge, there is a very flimsy foundation that triggered this investigation. I’m sure I needn’t tell you that your office could open itself to a civil suit for libel or slander.”
Jason straightened up in his chair. The smile disappeared and was replaced by an angry look. Sort of like a sudden summer storm. “We don’t investigate based on flimsy evidence. You know damn well we can’t be sued for doing our jobs as prosecutors. Are you threatening me? I think this meeting is over.”
“Wait, Jason. You know I’m just being an advocate for my client. Help me out here. If you think Judge Maxwell warrants this investigation, let me know why. You’ll have to anyway through discovery. As her attorney, I’ll be entitled to witness lists and documents. Calm down and let’s work together here.”
Jason relaxed a little and settled back into his chair. “I thought you knew me better than to think I’d go on a witch hunt. I couldn’t ignore the fact that more than one of my prosecutors believes something funny is going on in Maxwell’s division. Since she came back to the criminal bench six months ago, several cases involving drug dealing have been dismissed without any reason at a very early stage of the litigation. Some of these cases were dismissed after the filing of perfunctory motions by the defense. No hearings were held, and the orders were form orders with no reasons stated for the dismissals. In some cases, form orders were signed right after the arraignments. No other judge has such a practice. Frankly, this is against the rules of criminal procedure and against all the local rules in this jurisdiction.”
“Well, the criminal caseloads are heavy. Maybe there were reasons that just weren’t in the orders. Maybe they were articulated in open court.”
“No, don’t you think I would have checked all the transcripts? Then there was the murder of the informant in an important state case. Judge Maxwell directed the state to produce the guy. She could have tipped off someone about the time and place he would be produced. Things began to add up.”
I was feeling a little shaky. It looked like the State was not just on a fishing expedition, and Liz was a big catch.
“What added up?” I asked. I assumed as haughty an attitude as I could muster.
“Judge Maxwell is unmarried and lives on the income of a judge. We couldn’t find any other income such as an inheritance, and she didn’t declare any other income on her financial disclosure forms. You know the judges have to fill out those forms every year, and swear to the truthfulness of the answers. She has quite a few bills. Maybe she needs money. I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but there are rumors that your client is pretty friendly with a local defense attorney,” Jason said.
“All I’m asking at this point is that you keep me informed if you plan to file an indictment, and that you let me know if you have questions for my client. Some of the points you’ve raised may be easily explained. If there is no indictment, I’m sure you’ll keep this away from the media. And one more thing. I’m investigating these allegations myself as a service to my client. I promise that I’ll share my findings with you, because I am certain that they will exonerate the judge.” I extended my hand to Jason as I turned to leave his office.
“Mary, I sincerely hope Judge Maxwell is not dirty. I’m not out to screw the judiciary. My assistants have to practice in this courthouse, b
ut if she is dirty, I have a sworn duty to get her off the bench. I hope you understand this,” Jason said.
I retraced my steps to the parking lot. As I drove toward downtown and my lunch with Lucy and Steve, I was filled with a feeling of fear. I realized how big Liz’s case was. If I screwed up and lost, I might have the animosity of the entire bench in Miami-Dade County. I would also have lost one of the best women judges on our bench. This case was a must win.
CHAPTER TWENTY
As I turned off the freeway onto Brickell Avenue, my new BlackBerry phone rang. It was a present from my brothers, William and Jonathan. They are both lawyers, practicing in wills and estate planning and real estate; what we criminal attorneys call the death lawyers and the dirt lawyers, and what I personally call boring. They had insisted that I couldn’t possibly keep up with my practice without the latest in telephone, calendar schedules, and music without this device. I still loved my camera-cell phone and hadn’t given it up. I wasn’t sure who even knew what the number of the new phone was unless it was one of my brothers. Additionally, I wasn’t sure how to answer it.
I fumbled around with the buttons still trying to drive. The relentless ring continued to the tune of “When the Saints Go Marching In.” Jonathan is a jazz freak. I noted that I would have to change that as soon as I learned how to answer the thing.
Finally, I hit the right button. “Hello, Jonathan?”
“No, bitch. It’s your worst fucking nightmare. Keep your ass out of what doesn’t concern you or you’ll regret it, bitch.” The male voice hung up. I pulled into the garage at the restaurant. I was sweating as I tried to find the caller ID. The screen showed cell caller 213-323-9050. The 213 area code was not in Florida. I wiped my face and clammy hands and made my way into the crowded Green Toad Restaurant.
I spotted Lucy and Steve in the line for a table. The place was jammed with lawyers, bankers, and other office workers. The Toad was this month’s lunch hot spot. If you wanted to keep up with the gossip, it was essential to see who was lunching with whom.
“You are just in time. They just called our table,” Steve said. He steered Lucy and me forward.
Lucy hugged me as we walked. “Mary, are you okay? You’re so pale.”
We gathered ourselves into the booth. I collapsed onto the bench across from Lucy and Steve.
“Well, actually, I’ve been better. I just had a threatening phone call on my brand new BlackBerry that no one even knows the number of yet. It shook me up a little.”
“We saw you on TV the other night. Was this about the terrorist case?” Steve asked.
“I don’t know. The caller just told me to mind my own business, only not that politely. I’m sort of uneasy. Earlier this week I was hit on the head in my office parking lot. And besides Luis Corona’s case, I’ve got another very sensitive case.”
“Listen, Mary, you’re beating yourself up. You need some R and R. When was the last time you got to the gym or made time to jog?” Lucy asked. Lucy had turned into a fitness nut after her last baby.
“You’re right about that,” I said. “But with my own practice, I really need to take all the cases that I can. I have to pay my office expenses and keep up my house payments. I’m my only support.”
“What about Carlos? We really liked him when we went to dinner last month,” Lucy said.
“We’re still together, but I’m busy and he’s busy. It’s a struggle.”
“He’s a keeper, Mary. Don’t blow it.” Lucy was about to go into her lecture on the beauty of married life. Fortunately, the impatient waiter interrupted. Steve and I ordered burgers and fries. Lucy gave us a dirty look and ordered a salad.
Steve reached across the table and patted my hand. “Did you talk to the police about the assault? What did they say?”
“They’re investigating. It was probably just a robbery gone bad.”
“What about the phone call?” Steve asked. “Did you check the caller ID?”
I handed the phone to Steve. “It was a 213 area code. Where is that?”
“That’s Los Angeles, but with cell phones it could be anyone anywhere.” Steve pulled a notepad out of his pocket and wrote down the number. “I’ll turn this over to one of our investigators, and see who the number is registered to. You need to be careful. See if anyone is following you.”
As soon as the food arrived and the waiter, who had informed us his name was Brad, left us with the usual, bon appetit, I turned to Steve.
“Lucy, I hope you don’t mind if I talk a little law stuff and pick Steve’s brain.”
Lucy nodded.
“I need to find a way to contact Luis Corona. I went to see him at the Dade County Jail because he was some relative of a friend of Carlos’s family in Argentina. The feds took him away before I could give him any help. He’s being held in some secret location. He needs a lawyer. I thought maybe you had some way to get me through to him, or at least find out where he’s being held.”
Steve frowned and drummed his fingers on the table. “I can try, but I think it’s a lost cause. We’re taking our orders from Washington. The Guantanamo prisoners are being handled by them. The prisoners charged with terrorist crimes are unrepresented by counsel, and they’re being held indefinitely without charges being filed. It’s not like anything else in our justice system.”
“My God, no charges? No lawyers? I guess I’ve been so preoccupied with building my practice that I haven’t kept up with these issues. When will they be tried and where?”
“No one is certain. There may be military tribunals set up. It’s very hush-hush. The Justice Department in Washington won’t share information with any of the U.S. Attorney’s Offices. I have never seen anything to compare to this in my years in this office.”
“Maybe they haven’t taken him to Guantanamo yet. Maybe I can still meet with him.”
“Don’t count on it,” Steve said.
“If I can’t talk to him, I can’t find out if this is just some awful mistake. I spoke to his family by phone. They sound like really nice people. I feel terrible that I was less than helpful when I did see him. I was repulsed by thinking I was representing a terrorist. I’m ashamed of thinking like that.”
“Don’t blame yourself. Homeland Security wouldn’t have let you have enough time to fully interview him, anyway. I’ll make some discreet inquiries, but don’t hold out a lot of hope. Don’t repeat this. A lot of guys in my office are appalled by this situation, this operating outside the justice system.”
Steve’s cell phone rang. He glanced at a text message coming in, and stood up. “Girls, I gotta run. I’m needed in court. You sit here and get caught up. I’ll pay the bill on the way out.” He shoved the last of his burger in his mouth and loped out of the restaurant.
Lucy and I looked at each other. Then we both spoke at once.
“I’m glad we get some time alone,” Lucy said.
“I really need some downtime with a friend,” I said at the same time. We both giggled and suddenly I felt like we were back in elementary school whispering secrets to each other on the playground.
“Mary, I’m worried about you. You never take a vacation, even when you were working for Frank. I’ve offered you my grandmother’s house in Vermont so many times. When will you take me up on it? Just go up there and chill. The summers are wonderful.”
“I appreciate the offer. Maybe someday, but not right now. I remember when you used to go up there when we were kids. You always wanted me to come with your family even then, but we were always going to my grandparents in North Carolina. You know they moved back there when we were little. They didn’t like Miami, so we went there. And then to balance things, Dad insisted that I spend two weeks of the summer at the Jewish Institute Camp in Georgia.”
“It must have been hard for you growing up with two religions. I never knew why you didn’t just pick one instead of splitting yourself into two segments,” Lucy said.
“How could I do that? I couldn’t choose one parent over the
other. I love them both, so we kids just rolled with it all. In a way, we felt special. We celebrated, and still do, every holiday.”
“Well, I must admit I did envy you getting presents for everything, Chanukah and Christmas, while I was just a dull Presbyterian.”
“That’s one reason I’m taking things slow with Carlos. His family is Catholic and our backgrounds are different.”
“Steve and I liked him. He’s easy to talk to, and great looking. He’s definitely a hotty.”
“Oh, so you noticed that?” I laughed.
We gathered our handbags and jackets and walked out of the restaurant together.
“I wish you lived closer to us,” Lucy said. We like living on Miami Beach. I thought you’d live there too. It’s where we were raised.”
“I know. I miss you, too, but the Gables isn’t that far away. I like it there. I fell in love with South Dade when I went to the university. It has no tourists, and it looks so tropical. The Beach has changed. It’s so congested now. I hate seeing where our old house used to be.”
“Come over soon and see our kids, please, Mary.” Lucy hugged me and we went our separate ways.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Back at the office, I went through my notes from my interview with Liz and the papers she had sent over. I added notes of my meeting with Jason. Jason appeared determined to go full-steam ahead with his investigation. He scared me. Liz could lose her judgeship and even her law license. She was counting on me and I had no plan.
Justice in June Page 6