Justice in June

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Justice in June Page 23

by Barbara Levenson


  “I guess he’s the one at the table there.”

  “Ms. Alonso, please don’t guess,” the judge said. “Can you be sure?”

  “I’m sorry, Judge. It looks a little like him. I see a lot of passengers, you know. It sorta looks like him, but he doesn’t look the way he did on that flight.”

  “Ms. Alonso, tell us when you first became aware of Luis Corona.”

  “A little while into the flight, I saw that he was seated next to the sky marshal, the security officer who rides most of our flights dressed as a passenger. I always take note of who is seated around the officer. Then later, I heard him arguing with the officer. The conversation became louder. Mr. Corona had ordered a few drinks before that. He seemed to be in a happy celebratory mood when I served him the drinks. You know, kidding around with me and some of the other passengers, so I was surprised when I heard the argument.”

  “Did you do anything at that point?”

  “I saw that other passengers were turning around and staring, so I went over to Mr. Corona and told him he’d have to quiet down. The marshal said that Corona had hit him and that I should tell our captain. When the marshal says to alert the captain, I do that immediately. It means he suspects a problem.”

  “Did anything else happen?”

  “Not for a while. I think Mr. Corona was sleeping or resting. Things quieted down. A few hours later, I served dinner and wine, and everything seemed fine. Sometime after dinner, I heard the smoke alarm start wailing. By the time I got to the area of the restrooms, the marshal and the copilot had Mr. Corona on the ground. He was struggling. They put him in the back of the plane and handcuffed him.”

  “Were you present when the marshal searched his bag or questioned him?”

  “Part of the time, but I had to take care of all the other passengers. Many of them were frightened. Rumors were traveling throughout the plane. Some people thought we had been highjacked. I served free drinks to many of the passengers and tried to reassure them.”

  “Do you remember any item examined during the search or anything that Mr. Corona said?”

  “I saw some things from his shaving kit. There was a tiny scissors the marshal was looking at. There were several packs of cigarettes. The only thing I remember about Mr. Corona was that he was crying and begging them to let him get off the floor.”

  “Is there anything else that you remember about this incident?”

  “Not really. No.”

  Santini sat down, and I moved to the lectern.

  “Ms. Alonso, in your many years as a flight attendant, have you seen more unruly passengers than Mr. Corona?”

  “My goodness, yes, I’ve seen fist fights in the aisle. I once saw a husband actually beat up his wife. Once I caught two people having sex right at their seats. You see everything on these long flights.”

  “Were you suspicious that Mr. Corona was some kind of troublemaker from his demeanor?”

  “Not until the sky marshal told me to alert the captain.”

  “Now you said that Mr. Corona ordered several drinks early in the flight.”

  “That’s correct.”

  “Was he drunk?”

  “Maybe a little. It seemed like he was in a happy mood until the argument.”

  “You served him wine with his dinner even though he seemed a little drunk and the marshal had you alert the pilot?”

  “Sure. He wasn’t falling down drunk or anything.”

  “What did the pilot tell you to do when you alerted him?”

  “Just to keep an eye on things and let him know if anything else happened.”

  “You mentioned seeing packs of cigarettes. Did Mr. Corona have a cigarette in his hand when he was pulled out of the bathroom?”

  “I saw one on the floor in the bathroom. It was still lighted. I was the one who put it out so we could reset the smoke alarms. That was after they took the passenger to the back of the plane. Then I went into the restroom to see if everything was okay so other passengers could use it. It’s awful on a full, long flight when one restroom goes out of use.”

  “Okay, thank you, Ms. Alonso.”

  I took my seat. For the first time, Luis smiled at me. Santini stood and renewed his request to take a short break.

  “All right, we’ll be in recess for ten minutes,” Judge Hammel said.

  Santini had a further request. “Your Honor, may I ask if all counsel could meet with you in chambers for a few minutes.”

  The judge nodded, and we all stood as he left the bench.

  “What does this mean?” Luis asked.

  “Darned if I know, but don’t be scared. I think we’re doing fine. I’ll be back soon.”

  Marcia Lu was standing in front of us. “I’ll take you and Mr. Santini back to chambers,” she said.

  I grabbed my pad and pen and followed her out of the courtroom. The two feds behind us hovered over Luis like buzzards over roadkill.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

  We waited in the outer office while Marcia went to see if the judge was ready for us. I paced the area, looking at the books lining the walls of the office, feigning interest in the federal statutes, cases, and rules in their enormous volumes in historical order. My nerves were screaming with impatience. Why were we here? What did Santini have in store?

  “You’re a real scrapper,” Santini said. He was standing right behind me. I moved away as if I’d been slapped. “I heard you liked to play hardball in court.”

  “I’d hardly call this brief hearing an example of playing hardball,” I said.

  “I meant it as a compliment,” he said. I realized he was smiling at me.

  Marcia appeared in the doorway and ushered us into Hammel’s inner sanctum. It was a large office with a desk at one end and a conference table at the other. There were photographs of Miami’s skyline over the years, going from flat white buildings, to glass skyscrapers. One wall was filled with all kinds of awards. It was a comfortable space that exuded a friendly calm.

  Marcia motioned us over to the table and we sat on either side. The judge took his seat at the head of the table. Marcia sat at his left, with her laptop computer open and ready in front of her.

  “All right, Mr. Santini, why are we here?”

  “Thank you, Judge Hammel, for seeing us in chambers and for your patience this morning. I don’t want to take up more of your time without good cause. I hope you can understand that I couldn’t have this discussion in the courtroom. Judge, my only other witness would be the sky marshal. He is here and reluctantly ready to testify. However, once he takes the stand in open court, his cover is blown. He cannot travel anonymously to perform his duties. His face will be known. Even though we have no cameras allowed in federal courtrooms, we do have artists who draw the faces, and we do have TV crews outside as well as print media who will be all over him.”

  “Does he have other evidence concerning Mr. Corona other than what I’ve heard today already?” Judge Hammel asked.

  “Judge, I’m just trying to do my job. I can only work with what I’m handed. I believe there was, how can I put this, an overreaction on the part of the government in this case.”

  “So what you’re saying is that if I free Mr. Corona based on what I’ve heard here today, the government will not be taking an appeal or even objecting.”

  “That’s about it, Your Honor.”

  “Well, I have to say I’ve heard a lot of gobble-de-gook from the government over the years, but this really tops it all. Does the Justice Department or whoever pursued this case realize that they may be opening themselves to a civil case for big damages? That young man out there looks traumatized, and physically ill. The representative of the Argentine government looks very upset. I had a call from Ambassador Francis Miller early this morning. He’s been told that Argentina considers this an international slap in the face. Can you tell me why this incident has dragged on this long without more evidence? Is it now our government’s policy to arrest first, and then hope to find some evidence?
” Judge Hammel’s anger showed more with each word he spoke.

  I jumped into the fray. The important thing was to get Luis out of here. “Judge Hammel, given what I’ve just heard, I ask you to find that there is not and never was a reason to detain my client. I ask for an order granting my habeas corpus petition with an immediate release of my client. Although no charges have ever been filed against him, I’m asking for an expungment of any record of his arrest. I would also like Mr. Santini to clear Mr. Corona’s name from any enemy lists. The last thing Luis needs is to go to an airport somewhere and find he’s on a no-fly list.”

  “That seems a reasonable request,” the judge said, nodding his agreement.

  “The government disobeyed your last order and tried to spirit my client out of the country, so I’m afraid your order alone won’t insure that he isn’t hassled further.”

  “I will grant your order in full, but I want your assurance on the record, Mr. Santini, that there will be no further inclusion of Luis Corona on any enemy list. To that end, I will speak to Ambassador Miller to expedite the removal of Mr. Corona from any such lists,” Judge Hammel said. “I have to say that I have never felt so sad seeing the paranoia that has permeated the top ranks of our government. I assume Ms. Katz may walk her client out of here this afternoon.”

  “I’m not sure about that, Judge. He has to be returned to his last detention center and cleared from there.”

  “Oh, no, Judge,” I said. “This is just a trick for the feds to get their hands on Luis again. They were about to send him to Guantanamo. Please, don’t let them take him away from here.”

  Judge Hammel stood up. “If you want to further detain this young man, file charges against him now. Then I will set a bond, and he’ll walk out of here anyway. You have thirty minutes to file something.”

  “Well, Judge, I can’t do that. My agency can’t proceed in that fashion.”

  I stood up and looked at Santini. “Judge, the way to resolve this is for us to return to the courtroom and allow the sky marshal to testify. Then it will be up to Your Honor to render a final order of release for Luis. I think the real embarrassment to the government will be the marshal’s inability to add one new piece of evidence. That’s the real reason for his reluctance to testify. I won’t accept a suspension of the hearing unless I can take my client out of here completely cleared this afternoon.”

  “I am in agreement, Ms. Katz. What’s it going to be, Mr. Santini? And if the officers who brought Mr. Corona in here have some disagreement with this, I will handle them. Just let them know if they ignore my order, they may be the ones sitting in a holding cell.”

  Marcia Lu began typing on her laptop. “I’ll have a draft order ready in a few minutes for you, Judge. I think I have your exact wording. I’ve been taking notes.”

  “Judge, my hands are tied. There’s nothing else I can do except to accept this result. The only thing I simply can’t agree to is to waive our right to appeal. My superiors must make that decision,” Santini said.

  “Fine. I wish they would appeal. I’d like to see the faces on the appellate judges when they read the transcript of this hearing. Right now I’m going to return to the courtroom to read my order into the record.” Judge Hammel began to review Ms. Lu’s work.

  I returned to the courtroom and put my arm around Luis. “ It’s over,” I said.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR

  Thirty minutes later, Catherine and I escorted Luis out of the courtroom. He was so weak that we actually were holding him up. His parents hugged him, Carlos hugged me. J.C. and Angelina hugged all of us. Señor Marquez bowed and kissed my hand and then kissed my cheek. Ambassador Miller went to the judge’s chambers. Ms. Lu had summoned him as soon as the order was read.

  “Come, we will have a great party, a fiesta at our hotel,” Miguel said.

  “Miguel and Maria, Luis is ill. I want to get him to a hospital right away and document his injuries and any other physical problems. Maybe J.C. can call Dr. Andreas for us,” I said.

  I was worried about Luis, who looked as if he couldn’t apprehend anything being said. I also knew we would need proof of his treatment while jailed and its aftermath if the Coronas decided to sue the government. The foundation had been laid in the transcript of today’s hearing for false arrest and defamation.

  We delivered Luis to the hospital and left him in the hands of Luis’s parents and Doctor Andreas. I asked for a full report as soon as possible.

  Catherine and I headed back to the office. Carlos drove his parents home. Señor Marquez went with them. I was glad to see everyone leave. For once, I wanted peace and quiet and no one within a mile who had a problem.

  We arrived at the office to find a stack of messages on voice mail and e-mail. Most were comments of congratulations on the courthouse drug case from friends and colleagues. There were requests for appointments from potential new clients. One was from a city commissioner who claimed he was about to be indicted. “Nothing new there,” I said to Catherine.

  The message that puzzled me was from Liz. She asked if she could come to see me in the morning. Now what?

  Catherine returned several calls for me, and I went home to feed Sam and crawl into bed. I unplugged my landline and turned off my cell and BlackBerry. I slept straight through until five the next morning when I made a huge sandwich and drank a pot of coffee before heading back to the salt mine.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE

  I picked up a newspaper on the way to the office and settled back to read it and watch the TV news. Both were filled with Luis’s hearing. TV carried a shot of Catherine and me leading a disheveled Luis down the courthouse steps. For once someone looked more disheveled than I did.

  This must be a record. Front page news two days in a row. Harlan McFarland wrote a great story. It was another banner headline day for him. Something told me he would be going from intern to full-time reporter before the end of June.

  At eight o’clock, Liz knocked at the still-locked front door of the office. She looked more like her professional self. I liked her better in jeans and ponytail.

  “What’s up?” I asked as we settled in our usual seats on either end of the sofa.

  “I wanted to catch you up on what happened yesterday, and then I need to ask your advice,” she said.

  “It’s not a legal problem, is it?” I asked.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX

  The Last of Liz’s Story

  The morning after the arrest of Gladys and Anne, Liz was awakened by the phone. As soon as she finished speaking to Mary, she was startled by pounding on her condo door. She peeped through the safety hole and saw Joe. She opened the door, still rubbing sleep out of her eyes.

  Joe held out the morning paper. Headlines broke through the fog in her brain.

  “Why didn’t you call me last night? You’ve been through so much. Why didn’t you reach out to me for help?” Joe looked like a wounded child.

  “I really couldn’t tell you much, except that I was part of an investigation. Mary told me not to divulge anything to anyone. Last night I was just wrung out. I didn’t learn about Anne until this morning, and I was too upset to call you. Come on in. I’ll make coffee.”

  “I didn’t think I was just ‘anyone,’ ” Joe said. Now he was pouting.

  “Look, Joe, I didn’t know who to trust. Anne used me. Gladys used me. I need to be sure about the decisions I make from now on.”

  “What does this mean for us? I thought we were planning a wedding. I’ve even started making honeymoon plans.”

  “Don’t you think I should be involved in plans for a trip? I don’t recall any discussions about places we both might like to go. I need a little time and space to sort out everything. My life has been turned inside out. Please try to understand and give me a little time,” Liz said. “Right now I need to get to the courthouse. The first thing I need to get straight is where I will be working.”

  “I’ll give you plenty of time. I won’t bother you again. When and if you want
to be with me, you can call me.” Joe dropped the newspaper on the floor and slammed the door as he left

  Liz had no more tears left. She sat dry-eyed and read the stories in the Herald, the headline of Anne’s arrest, and the sidebar about Mary and Mark and her and how they had uncovered the drug cartel’s use of the criminal court system. She looked like a real hero in the story. She felt like an idiot, trusting people who used her. She was nobody’s lapdog. It was time to take control of her life, starting with her job as a judge.

  Liz arrived at the criminal courthouse before nine a.m. She had phoned Patricia from her car. Patricia was at her post as usual. She cried when they had talked about Gladys, but she promised to hold down the fort until Liz could get there.

  Liz went directly to Chief Judge Paul Marconi’s chambers.

  “Is he in?” Liz asked the secretary in the outer office.

  “He is, but he’s on the phone. If you’ll have a seat, I’ll see if he can see you as soon as he’s off his private line,” she said.

  “Never mind,” Liz said, as she strode to the mahogany door of Marconi’s private lair and threw it open. The secretary tried to follow her, screaming about how she couldn’t just go in unannounced. Liz slammed the heavy door in her face.

  Marconi was not on the phone. His back was turned. He was staring out the window and sipping a cup of coffee. He whirled around as the door slammed, spilling the coffee down the front of his white shirt.

  “Good morning, Paul. I trust you’ve seen the morning paper and I know you spoke to Detective Morris last night. I thought that you’d call me immediately,” Liz said. She seated herself without being invited.

  “I didn’t want to disturb you last night, but I intended to call you this morning,” Judge Marconi said as he dabbed at the ugly brown stain on his shirt.

  “Yes, well the road to hell is paved with good intentions. I’m here to tell you that I will be returning tomorrow morning to my criminal division. I don’t know of anything I can do about the orders Gladys forged in my name. That will be for the state and the appellate court to sort out.”

 

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