by Webb Hubbell
“Sam, I apologize. I pushed you into having this hearing. But honestly, ask yourself: Would you be looking for the bullet if I hadn’t raised the issue? Would you have accepted Lucy’s garbage that Woody was a hanger-on and about to be fired? Peggy, would the federal government have investigated why someone else might want a US senator dead and why people have been impersonating federal agents and state troopers in order to seize evidence?
“I’ll admit that, for me, this has become personal. Did either of you wonder why someone was trying to kill Woody Cole’s lawyer? Threaten his daughter? I believe the answer is no.
“So here’s what I propose. First, I want Bea Taylor taken into protective custody. Micki’s already agreed to represent Bea and to negotiate the terms of protection and immunity on her behalf, ultimately placing her in the Federal Witness Protection Program. Bea is willing to cooperate.
“We will recommend to our client that he plead guilty to the charge of bringing a loaded weapon onto state property. All other charges will be dropped without prejudice.” This meant that Sam would have the right to bring charges in the future. It was a gamble, but I felt that, under these circumstances, it was improbable that that would happen. “In the meantime, Judge Fitzgerald accepts the plea and defers sentencing. I believe the maximum sentence in this state is ten years for carrying a weapon onto state grounds. That’s exactly the same maximum sentence that manslaughter carries, and ten years in jail is a long time.
“The US marshal will immediately take Woody into protective custody while he assists the US government in its investigation of the oil companies, the individuals I’ve named, and any other crimes he believes he discovered. His time in federal custody will be credited toward his state sentence.
“Woody will be granted full immunity for any testimony or statements he gives to the federal government or to you, Sam, during this period of cooperation. You cannot use his cooperation to bring charges against him, but you can use it against anyone else. In addition, if Woody needs to be placed in witness protection after he serves his sentence, it will be provided under terms negotiated with Micki.
“If the state or the federal government decides to bring charges against Woody for, or arising out of, the death of Russell, then Micki and I will defend him, and no matter what the status of the investigation of the oil companies, we will bring out everything I discussed today and a few more I’ve held in reserve. Don’t think that I’ve played all my cards.
“One more thing: I need to know if there’s a possibility we can agree. If I get a tentative yes, I suggest we meet tomorrow morning to iron out the details. Otherwise, Your Honor, the defense is ready to put on its first witness, either tomorrow morning or at the court’s pleasure. All of this is subject to Woody’s approval, but we’ll strongly recommend he give it. What do you say?”
After a long silence, Peggy was the first to respond. “Of course, we agree to taking Ms. Taylor into custody and giving her witness protection. Is her cooperation conditioned on Woody?”
I said yes. If there were no deal for Woody, then we would keep Bea under our protection.
Sam said, “Woody will plead guilty to carrying a firearm, and we’ll agree to drop all other charges without prejudice?”
“Without prejudice. You can refile tomorrow if you want, but if you do, you have to stare at my ugly face for a long time. Let the feds do their investigation, and you complete your own. Don’t rush things. Who knows? You might find Woody’s bullet or maybe someone else’s. Interview the bystanders—maybe there’s another video out there.”
Sam looked at Peggy. “Will you share information with our office? Will we have access to Ms. Taylor? If I drop the charges, what assurances do I have that Dub won’t file murder charges tomorrow?”
Peggy answered, “I’m not saying I agree to this. Whatever I do is subject to the AG’s approval. But if we do reach a deal, I can assure you this investigation will be run out of my office. You will have full access to any witness I have. As to Dub, he will have no role at all. He might get in a few photo ops, but if he opens his mouth or tries anything cute, we’ll put a stop to it, pronto.”
Sam seemed satisfied.
Marshall asked a question I’d thought a lot about. “Jack, you’ve mentioned the attempts on your life. What about Beth’s safety? What about you? Should you go into protective custody?”
I wanted to smile—it felt good to know that he believed me. “If everyone agrees and the attorney general makes a strong statement of support, I think they’ll leave me alone. In the meantime, I’m counting on Clovis to keep us safe. Once they figure out the feds have Woody and Bea, they’ll know the story won’t go away. What’s important is that Woody and Bea are safe. If everyone agrees, I’ll help any way I can, but I’m not quite ready to have a new identity. I want to live my own life and my daughter wants to live her’s. It’s a risk we’re willing to take.” I waited a long beat. “So, do we have a tentative agreement?”
I knew I was pushing, but I was running out of ammunition.
Sam ticked off the points. “I get a guilty plea. Woody’s in custody for at least ten years. I can refile after a full and complete investigation if I think justice isn’t being served.” He paused for only a few seconds, and then said, “I want to talk to my guys about potential pitfalls, but until tomorrow morning, I’m tentatively in.”
First hurdle passed, but there were three. Peggy still seemed a bit reluctant. It seemed to me she was getting a huge present, all wrapped up with a bow.
“I still have a lot of things to think about. We don’t usually move very fast, and I’m sure I can’t say yes without running it up the flagpole. It’s the best I can do, Jack, but I’m at least willing to take it to the AG. Will that do?”
It wasn’t all I’d like to have, but it wasn’t a no. Peggy was cautious, but I had a feeling that if she was willing to go to the AG, she was a tentative yes.
I nodded. “What do you say, Judge? You would have to accept a plea, defer sentencing, agree that being in custody constitutes time served, and seal today’s proceedings and the plea agreement.”
Marshall was quiet, kept us waiting for at least a full minute, and then said, “I don’t know why I shouldn’t.”
49
MICKI AND MAGGIE had a hard time stifling their exuberance. Only the presence of Marshall, Sam, and the others kept them from dancing. The bailiff suggested we meet with Woody in the small conference room near the holding cell, and the guards removed him from the judge’s chambers.
Everyone else stayed in the judge’s chambers while the three of us left to meet with Woody. As the bailiff walked ahead of us down the private corridor to the elevator, Micki grabbed my arm and said, with some modicum of restraint so the bailiff couldn’t hear, “Unbelievable! You did it!”
I sighed. “We aren’t there yet.”
“I know, I know, everything’s tentative, but we’re so close.” Micki’s eyes were shining with excitement.
“That’s not the problem. The problem is Woody—he won’t buy it.”
In unison, Maggie and Micki said, “Why not?”
“It’s a great deal,” Micki added.
I stopped short of the conference-room door. “Think about it. Jeff got it right off the bat. Woody’s said the same thing from day one. He’s always wanted to plead guilty—he wants to die. He’s going to be the toughest sell yet.”
Dismayed, Maggie asked, “What are you going to say?”
“I don’t know. I never thought we’d get this far.”
Woody was waiting for us, pacing the small room impatiently.
I smiled, “How are you doing?”
“Okay. Look, I let you do your deal. I appreciate all you said. I hope the oilmen get their due, but enough is enough. Tell Marshall and Sam I’m pleading guilty to murder one and want my execution expedited.”
Micki’s face fell in disbelief, even though I’d warned her.
I remained quiet, so Woody filled the void.
“You think you know what I discovered, don’t you? What you said was true, but there’s more, a whole lot more. Now I can tell you. It wasn’t just the oil. As for that missing bullet nonsense, that was good, but I know the gun went off in my hand. I didn’t mean for it to go off—I thought the safety was on, but it did, and I’m responsible.”
I motioned toward the table, and we both sat down, but he didn’t let up for a second.
“So you figured out my clues. I knew you would. I just figured I’d be dead by now, but it doesn’t matter—it ends now.”
“No, it doesn’t. Nothing ends if you plead guilty. Well-meaning people, like you used to be, will take up your cause and fight the death penalty. They’ll appeal your sentence, they’ll gather petitions, and they’ll drag everything out forever. You’ll die of old age before you’re executed.”
“Nobody’s going to take up my case. I shot a US senator. Maybe a few people will come forward on principle, but they’ll fade away. I’m not exactly a poster child for the wrongly accused.”
“Well, they won’t execute you next week. Have you thought about what’ll happen while you’re waiting? Those ‘few people’ you discount will go after Sam, just like you did. They’ll say he prosecuted you when he should have recused because you went after him in the Kent affair. They’ll call it a vendetta. They’ll take the playbook you created during the Kent affair, refine it, and execute it until Sam’s disgraced and beaten. They’ll do the same thing to Marshall. They’ll say Marshall and Sam were in league together. Ask yourself—if you were on the other side, what would you do to Marshall and Sam? Tell me you wouldn’t use it.”
He looked me straight in the eye and said forcefully, “That’s a low blow, but I don’t buy your argument. Not one bit. I’m the villain here. Period.”
I’d known this wasn’t going to be easy. “You want to talk about unfair. What about Russell? What do you think is going to happen to his memory if you’re dead or sitting on death row for the rest of your life? Don’t think that oil price-fixing, funding terrorists, and everything else you discovered isn’t going to come out. Without you to defend him, the wolves will descend on Russell’s memory. The legacy you created and want to perpetuate will come crumbling down. His children, who currently go to bed thinking their father was a hero, will live a lifetime of shame.”
Woody relaxed a little. “I never thought I’d see the day when Jack Patterson was arguing on Russell’s behalf. Ironic isn’t it? You’re defending him, and I’m the one who destroyed him.”
“Listen to me. No one knows what Russell said to you in the rotunda, but here’s what I think happened: On Tuesday, you faced him with what you knew. He told you you’d have to put a gun to his head to make him forsake his friends and bring them to justice. You took him literally, and when you did, Russell, shocked and frightened, said he’d do whatever you wanted. You eased your finger off the trigger, and the gun went off. That’s why you have so much remorse. Russell was going to make it right.”
Woody didn’t confirm or deny it, so I went with my instinct. “Russell’s dead. You can’t change it, but you can stop the killing.”
Woody interrupted. “Killing? What are you talking about?”
“Do you really think that once they find out you’re not talking to the authorities, they’re going to let me live? Once they realize I have Bea and the journals, do you think my life or hers will be worth a plug nickel? Unless they know you’re alive and cooperating with authorities, I’m a dead man.”
Should I say the rest or not? I knew it was cruel, but it was true.
“Woody, if you don’t care about me, think about Beth. She knows everything I know, and she’ll probably be next. Isn’t Russell’s death enough? Your death won’t bring him back. What about Angie? Are you really willing to risk her daughter’s life?
“That’s way below the belt, Jack. You know I couldn’t bear for that to happen.”
“I’m sorry, you’re right—it isn’t fair, but it’s real. It’s what we’re facing.”
I had played upon twenty-five years of guilt and his love for Angie and Beth. I felt like a worm, but I had tried everything else I could think of. I’d known all along that I’d use it if I had to.
His shoulders slumped, he squeezed his eyes shut and just sat there. I waited.
“Okay,” he said at last. “I can’t fight you anymore. I’ll do what you want.”
I had the answer I needed, but I had to have more. Risking all I had won, I went for broke. “Woody, look at me—please. I’ve given you lots of reasons not to die, but I don’t want to stop there. I want you to have a reason to live. Although you don’t think so right now, you have a lot to live for and to look forward to.
“Jerry Maguire is famous for more than just, ‘Show me the money.’ Jerry wants to become ‘the me, that he’d always wanted to be.’ In another line Renée Zellweger’s character, Dorothy I think her name is, says, ‘I love him for the man he wants to be, and for the man he almost is.’ The movie was fiction—but for you, it’s real. What you have now is a chance to be what you always wanted to be. You got lost, but you can find yourself again. You’re being given an opportunity to get it right. Don’t waste this gift. Don’t let your life be defined by this tragedy. You once told me you never wanted to be the man out front, but the man in the background—the man behind the throne, giving advice and good counsel. I’ve proposed you do exactly that with the Justice Department. You can point them in the right direction as they begin to unravel all that you’ve discovered.
“When you said there’s much more to what I found in the journals, you essentially confirmed my theory about ties to terrorists and Iran. Maybe the rest is even worse. Only you know, but whatever it is, here’s your chance: From the safety of witness protection, you can save lives. Not just Beth’s and mine, but the lives of other innocent people. You can single-handedly change the way the corporate world and politics work. Isn’t that the Woody you’ve always wanted to be?”
He was listening, which was all I could ask for, so I continued.
“Maybe you’ll be doing Russell’s work after all. Maybe he kept his journal for other reasons—to document how money buys access. Think of what that could mean for his legacy.”
“Come on, Jack. That’s pure bullshit. You and I both know Russell wasn’t a saint. What else did Dorothy say? ‘You had me at hello.’”
This was the Woody I knew. “Can I send Micki back upstairs to say we have a tentative deal—that you’ll cooperate?” He hesitated, but nodded yes.
I turned to Maggie. “Do you mind going back to Marshall’s chambers with Micki? I need a minute here if that’s okay.” Micki gave Woody a quick hug, and they left without a word.
Exhausted, Woody quietly asked, “How can you ever forgive me? After so many betrayals, how can you keep coming back?”
“Ah, Woody, there’s a little Judas in all of us. Maybe if I hadn’t been such a jerk about Russell, you’d have come to me with what you found. I’d have helped you, and Russell would be alive. If I couldn’t forgive you, how could I forgive myself? What I can’t let you do is give up. Friendship is about tolerance and forgiveness, not about giving up. I may call on you someday.”
“You’re going to tell Beth about that night, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, it’s time.”
“Do you think she’ll ever forgive me?” He sounded more afraid than hopeful.
“She’s her mother’s daughter. If the feds will let her, I bet she’ll tell you herself. She loves you, and there’s nothing to be forgiven. Russell asked you for a favor. You had no idea what was going to happen. You didn’t know where it would lead.”
We were quiet for a while, lost in our own thoughts. I shook it off and told Woody to be thinking about what he’d need to have with him in order to cooperate with the ongoing investigation—if we could pull it off. I’d leave the negotiations about the conditions of protective custody up to Micki. She’d be tougher than I would be.
We embraced, and as I was leaving, he said, “When are you going to tell Beth? I wish I could be there with you.”
“Soon,” I said, “I have one other matter to tend to first … one more distraction.”
50
IF WE WERE lucky tomorrow morning, Micki and Woody would be working together a lot going forward. A lawyer who has helped negotiate a deal like this doesn’t just walk away once it’s been made. There would be a thousand details requiring a lawyer’s skill and presence. Luckily, Woody had enough money to pay for her time. I also expected that Woody would be spending a lot of time in safe houses in the DC area. The prospect of Micki visiting DC brought a smile to my face, but I was getting way ahead of myself. There was no deal yet—far from it.
I met Micki and Maggie downstairs, and Clovis led us from the backdoor of the courthouse to a waiting Suburban. I wondered idly if he’d run out of Tahoes. I asked about Beth. He told me that with the ATF, police, and his own people there, Micki’s place had become a regular police academy. For that reason, he’d decided not to move us to a new location tonight, which was actually fine with me.
He said this morning’s bomb had been planted under the dashboard and was similar to ones used frequently in the Middle East and Afghanistan. He warned me that the press had now staked out the place. “No throwing the baseball, Jack, unless you want to be on national TV.”
“I’d love to be pitching on national TV, but in Yankee Stadium, not Micki’s pasture.”
I asked Micki what had happened after she and Maggie returned to Marshall’s chambers.
“When we first got back, Sam’s deputies were still all over him. They obviously don’t want Sam to agree to anything. They don’t want him to give up their limelight. They want to parlay the exposure in a high-profile case into a lucrative law practice or the bench. It’s hard to believe, given how they screwed Sam in the first place. I’d think they’d want to go hide.”