by Noel Obiora
The man said he had written everything down in a letter he wanted to deliver for Amy if she was not inclined to sit down with him for a brief chat, but he would rather have coffee with her. Amy took the letter and agreed to have coffee with him anyway. She told him she agreed to coffee to show she was not afraid of them. After the evening with the man, she stopped taking Kenneth’s calls.
On Friday, before the preliminary hearing, she had received a motion from Kenneth’s office asking the court to continue the hearing for one week to allow him to adequately prepare, as he had just been retained. Her hands literally shook as she held the motion while reading it.
On the morning of the preliminary hearing, she was surprised to find a note from Kate on her door. “My office before the hearing, please, if you can.”
She placed her files on her desk, hung her jacket behind her door, and went directly to Kate’s office, as suspense would not let her wait to hear what Kate had to say. Her calmness impressed her as she knocked on Kate’s door.
“Yes, Amy. Come in,” Kate called out from her office, and came around to the front of her desk.
“The defendant filed a motion for continuance of the preliminary hearing.”
“Yes,” Amy said. “They filed it ex parte on Friday.”
“Do you know why?” Kate asked. Amy shook her head. “They know of the insurance policy that pays his fees. Mr. Ross said they sent the recording company a letter asking for the policy.”
“Will the recording company comply?” Amy asked.
“I don’t know. Did we give the music contract to them?” Kate asked.
“They’ve never asked for it,” Amy said, swallowing streams of her own saliva.
“I would rather we stay out of that battle,” Kate said.
“Me, too,” Amy said.
“You know that Court TV is planning to put this on the air, right?” Kate said.
“Even the preliminary hearing?” Amy asked.
“I think so…Gil’s office approved it,” Kate said.
“I didn’t know that…”
“Publicity might follow it from around the country, too. Hopefully, it gets overshadowed by the O. J. circus, but chances are it doesn’t. Are you ready for something like that?”
“Yes, I am.”
Kate paused for a while, and Amy repeated. “I am.” Kate nodded.
“Amy, is there anything you would like to tell me about this case…this new attorney you went to school with?”
Amy was visibly perplexed. She adjusted her seating involuntarily as though it would help her listen better. Kate reached behind her desk and picked up a large brown envelope.
“Melissa told me you are seeing someone from New York, is that still the case?”
“I don’t understand what you’re asking me,” Amy said, feeling impatient. Kate offered her the envelope, which she accepted hesitantly. Inside were pictures of her and Kenneth, taken the night they met at Cool Jo’s Café, and a copy of a decision. Amy felt tears in her eyes and fought them back. Kate put a box of tissues in front of her and she took a few, dabbed her eyes, and thanked Kate.
“Thank goodness I didn’t put on too much makeup.”
“It’s fine,” Kate said.
“We’ve gone out for drinks a few times, like I said before. We had lunch. I’m sorry, I promised to tell you if it became serious, but I didn’t. I promised myself I wouldn’t let it get serious as long as I was involved in this case. I think it was already serious even before I got on this case. I just didn’t know it.”
Kate raised her eyebrows and sighed.
“So, the feelings are mutual?” Kate asked. Amy nodded.
“But I stopped seeing him to avoid further conflicts.”
“I’m sorry I upset you. I got this on Friday afternoon, after you’d left the office. I didn’t want to discuss it over the phone, and I knew I had to talk to you before the hearing this morning. So, I came in early.”
“The pictures caught me off-guard. Who took those pictures?”
“Does it matter?”
“I didn’t know I was being watched.”
“You weren’t.”
“I ran into him on a night out with a colleague from West Covina, and someone took these pictures without my knowledge.”
“Mr. Jones came to see me at the courthouse on Friday with the defendant’s father and his followers…They brought those pictures with them. They promised to make a public spectacle of you if you continue this affair.”
“I’m not worried about them. But I stopped seeing him.”
“The case I handed you is the California authority that addresses the obligation of counsel representing opposing clients in a case. If you are intimate with him, he has an obligation to inform his client and it appears he told him that he was not intimate with you.”
Amy stood up slowly and offered the document back to Kate, barely having looked at it.
“I suppose Mr. Jones has fulfilled that obligation for me,” she said curtly.
“That copy’s for your files,” Kate said declining to take the document back. “…if you still want to be on this case.”
“I’ll leave it entirely up to you, but I won’t be intimidated by Mr. Jones and his client, and I won’t let anyone violate my privacy.”
“They have a legitimate concern, Amy.”
“They should take it up with their attorney, not with me.”
“I hope you’re not too upset to handle the preliminary hearing.”
“No, I’m fine.”
“I know I said I wouldn’t attend, but my calendar has cleared up, is that okay with you?”
“I’d like you to attend.”
“One last thing,” Kate said and paused. Then added, “Oppose their motion for continuance. I’ll see you in the courtroom.”
Amy said thanks and slowly made her way back to her office. There, she sat scribbling unintelligibly on a note pad and holding her forehead in one palm supported by her elbow on the desk. Only then did the title of the case Kate had copied register in her mind, People v. Jackson. How ironic, she thought. She was relieved anyway that she had this conversation with Kate before the hearing. It framed her professional relationship with Kenneth in starkly clear terms she had never fully considered and lessened her apprehension of seeing him in court. Still, she felt violated by those pictures and could not wait to give Thomas a call. “Who else could have taken them?”
•••
All freeway traffic to the City of Angeles jammed within three miles of downtown by 7:30 a.m. Traffic crawled to a stop every thirty seconds as the Roybal building and the Metropolitan Detention Center became visible from the 101 freeway, and the spike on City Hall, the Temple Street Courthouse, and Chinatown were visible from the 110 freeway. Faces behind rolled up windows in cars nearest to the city hub turned to frowns and avoided eye contact with other motorists or nodded contemptuously to each other when unable to do so.
About 8:10 a.m., Kenneth and the frowning faces on the freeway no longer even nodded contemptuously to each other. Most barely looked sideways for fear someone might beg to change lanes and cut ahead of them. Any coffee left was either cold or, worse still, spilled. Everyone looked forward, determined to lunge at every inch of space that opened ahead of them as they crawled toward their various destinations. The delay for traffic toward downtown Los Angeles increased as the cars neared these downtown landmarks, exasperating Kenneth until he exited onto Spring Street and drove to the parking lot behind the Temple Street Courthouse.
•••
By 8:20 a.m., Amy left for court. The hallways of Los Angeles Central Criminal Courthouse were packed with all manner of despairing families, mostly minorities, and their Panglossian-suited representatives, mostly Caucasian. Along with them, an army of potential jurors marching to courtrooms in numbers not like
ly seen on other days. Downtown superior courts call their calendars promptly at 8:30 a.m., and most trials start on Mondays. Many in the jury pool come on the first day of trial and are dismissed by the end of the day.
This busy hallway was a welcome sight to Amy as she stepped out of the elevator and meandered around bodies, avoiding eye contact. She had dreaded so much running into Kenneth before the hearing began that she asked Neda to come to court if her schedule allowed, but Neda had a hearing. At risk of being late, she delayed arriving before the court opened, to avoid the awkward gathering of opposing parties at the entrance. The many knots in which her organs had been twisted would be unbearable if she spent even a minute alone with him.
Whilst disappointed that he was representing Paul, she had wondered what kind of performance he might put on for his client. Had this been Neda’s case and Kenneth Neda’s adversary, Amy would have cleared her calendar to see it, no doubt cheering Neda’s cause, but also cheering Kenneth’s spirit.
Commissioner Gamilla Barney was presiding over Division 40 of the criminal courts. A short, stout woman with cropped curly hair, she wore her prescription glasses slightly pushed down her nose to peer over them at counsel. Kenneth knew Commissioner Barney from his days at the public defender’s office. The bailiff took Kenneth’s card and passed it on to the calendar clerk and Kenneth waited for instructions. The bailiff gave Kenneth a form to fill that would allow the commissioner to preside over Paul’s case. Kenneth took one look at it and shook his head at the bailiff. At the very moment he was shaking his head, he noticed Commissioner Barney looking in his direction.
“Another attorney checked in for the defense in this case also,” the bailiff whispered to Kenneth and pointed into the gallery in the direction of Cassandra who was getting up and walking toward them.
“Thank you,” Kenneth said to the bailiff and met Cassandra as she came out of the row of seats. About then, Amy arrived and walked up behind them to give the bailiff her card as well. On seeing Amy as he turned around, he felt the attention of the entire courtroom focused on him. She had looked down as their eyes met, so he looked away as well. For a minute or so afterward, he was deaf to anything Cassandra said to him.
“She denied the continuance in a tentative ruling,” Cassandra said.
“I know,” Kenneth said.
“We might as well get it over with. It’s only a preliminary hearing,” Cassandra said, but Kenneth did not respond immediately because he was looking around the room for Sister Ramatu and Jo.
The clerk announced their case. “People of the State of California versus Paul Jackson.”
Kenneth, Cassandra, and Amy walked toward the counsel table, all converging single file as they walked through a small gate separating the counsel table from the sitting area. Each wore an expression of calculated restraint. The bailiff exited through a side door and reappeared with Paul Jackson wearing an orange jumper, his hands and feet shackled. He sat against the wall in the jury box, farthest from the proceedings before the court. The calendar was only called to determine the readiness of parties for preliminary hearing, which would likely be after the entire morning calendar was called.
Paul kept his eyes on the counsel table. His physique had become much leaner since Kenneth last saw him; his facial features appeared chiseled with his cheekbones more prominent. His hair had grown longer than he usually wore it, but he was clean-shaven.
Once at the counsel table, all counsel stated their names and whom they represented, one at a time for the court reporter.
“Are we ready for the preliminary hearing?” Commissioner Barney inquired.
“Your Honor, we have a motion for continuance pending because I was only retained after the arraignment and I have not had adequate chance to prepare for the hearing,” Kenneth said.
“Have you seen the tentative ruling?” Commissioner Barney asked.
“Yes, your Honor. I was hoping that the court would allow argument to reconsider,” Kenneth said.
“Do you have any other information that was not stated in the motion?” Commissioner Barney asked.
“Not at this time, your Honor.”
“Does counsel for the People have any response to the motion for continuance?”
“We oppose the motion, your Honor. It is untimely and unnecessary. The record will show that a previous attorney for the defendant brought a similar motion for continuance at the arraignment, and in the end that came to nothing as well. This is becoming a pattern.”
“I am aware of the earlier motion. Thanks for reminding me. The motion for continuance is denied.”
“So, Ms. Wilson, are you not submitting also to this court for preliminary hearing?”
“I am, your Honor. I signed the consent sheet.”
“You are ready for the preliminary hearing?” Commissioner Barney asked.
“Yes, I am,” Amy responded.
“You have all the officers you need available?” Commissioner Barney asked.
“They are on call, your Honor,” Amy said.
“Well, counsel,” Commissioner Barney said, turning to Kenneth. “It seems to me that before you arrived, Professor Rayburn had signed the consent for this court to hold the preliminary hearing, though she may have thought it was a mere formality. She nevertheless submitted the case this morning to this court.”
“We will proceed with preliminary hearing at eleven a.m. Ms. Wilson, have your officers ready to go. Professor Rayburn, I am confident that you can adequately represent the defendant. Counsel, you are excused.”
Commissioner Barney turned quickly to the calendar clerk without saying a word, indicating she was ready for the next case to be called.
When Kenneth turned around to leave, the first person his eyes settled on was Sister Ramatu, whom he had not seen earlier when he looked for her. A black hijab covered her head, giving emphasis to her stoic stare. Jo was sitting next to her, and she smiled reassuringly at Kenneth.
Kenneth and Cassandra were standing in the hallway with Sister Ramatu and Jo when Amy came out and walked past them with Kate. Kenneth excused himself and followed them. They both stopped and turned around when he called after her.
“May I have a word with you?” he asked.
“Sure,” Amy said.
“Alone, please,” Kenneth said.
“No, this is my colleague and the senior attorney on the case. She can hear whatever you have to say.”
“This is not about the case.”
“I can’t talk to you about anything else, I’m sorry,” Amy said and started to turn around, but Kate put a hand on her arm.
“It’s okay, just hear him out,” Kate said softly, before walking away. Amy stood quietly for a moment before she spoke.
“I can’t speak to you,” she said sternly.
“I know you said we won’t see each other during the proceeding, but you have not even returned my calls.”
“Not here, Kenneth. Not now.”
“Then when?”
“I don’t know, Kenneth, but that was my boss who just walked away, and she was being polite. Don’t do this again, unless it’s about the case.” She turned and walked away. Kenneth returned to the party of four who were watching them.
“May I have a word privately with you,” Cassandra said to Kenneth, and they stepped away from Sister Ramatu and Jo.
“Look, it’s a preliminary hearing, Commissioner Barney can find probable cause to charge Cardinal O’Connor with this crime, much less your client, if she wants to, and no appeals court will reverse her decision. Let me do it and you can focus on the trial.” Kenneth took a moment to think about what Cassandra had said. His spirits were already low from the conversation with Amy. He agreed.
“But Paul is completely confused right now,” Kenneth said.
“Don’t worry about that,” Cassandra said.
Th
ey returned to the others.
“Professor Rayburn will handle the preliminary hearing by herself,” Kenneth explained to Sister Ramatu and Jo. “It doesn’t really decide anything but that the DA has enough evidence to take Paul to trial.” Sister Ramatu put her hand around Kenneth.
“We know, son,” Sister Ramatu said, patting Kenneth on the shoulder. Jo gave him a hug.
Kenneth and Cassandra bade them goodbye for now and said they would see them at eleven o’clock. Sister Ramatu and Jo sat on the bench in the hallway and waited.
•••
Mallam Jackson and his men were in court when Kenneth returned for the eleven o’clock hearing. Mr. Jones and Big were there as well. There were lights placed at certain corners of the courtroom to illuminate the proceedings. Two cameramen and their large cameras appeared to be recording court already before the proceedings began, and several young people associated with the filming activity were moving hurriedly about, seemingly busy. Sister Ramatu and Jo were seated closer to the proceedings than they were earlier in the morning.
Amy, Kate, and Cassandra were already seated at the counsel table. The view from the back of the courtroom where Kenneth sat was striking. All those who would determine Paul’s fate at the preliminary hearing were white women—Commissioner Barney, Amy, Kate, and Cassandra—even the calendar clerk and the court reporter who sat in an inner circle were white women. The bailiff was African American.
The clerk, a soft-spoken tall woman in her early thirties, exchanged glances with the court reporter, an older woman in her forties, before turning to Kenneth.
“Counsel, will you not be sitting with your client at counsel table?” the clerk asked Kenneth.
“No. I’m not participating,” Kenneth replied.
“Nonetheless,” Cassandra said. “Please come and join us.” Kenneth agreed and joined them.
The sheriff walked Paul Jackson into the courtroom.
Commissioner Barney entered the courtroom from a door behind the bench, her black robe saved from dragging on the floor by the high heels of her shoes.