When Sunday came, we reluctantly returned to Oakland, and the next morning I dug a suit and tie out of one of our many boxes, got dressed, and went to work. My move to criminal was complete, without any further discussion. No more transitioning or split calendars. I wouldn’t see another child protection case for the foreseeable future, and I was fine with that.
I walked into my office and placed a large bouquet of flowers on Karen’s desk with a note of thanks. Then I hung up my jacket and went back to my chambers. On my desk were four tall stacks of files, and a few stacks on the floor. They were the twenty child dependency files that I’d asked the records department to retrieve from the court archives.
I thumbed through the stacks until I found the file related to Jennifer Plank. I separated it from the others and sat down. I flipped the file open and read the first few pages, then closed it.
Maybe later. I was burned out. It took incredible effort to just get out of bed in the morning, and I had little drive to do much of anything. After talking with Helen, I also felt like I already knew what had happened to them. I didn’t need to read the file. I also figured that Jarkowski would call me when the kids were found. He had the names, and, unlike me, he had the badge. And that was exactly what happened.
A week later, the telephone rang. “Hey, Judge.” Jarkowski’s voice was brisk. “Been trying to give you some space; hope you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind.” I sat up straighter, suddenly interested. “What’s going on?”
“Been following up on those Plank kids.”
“And?”
“The first one I found was Mitchell. He was the boy in the superhero T-shirt. He’s had a rough life, Judge, but he also has a pretty solid alibi. Works the overnights at an office-supply warehouse. His employer is getting me the timesheets.
“I found the middle girl, Brooke. She turned out pretty good. She isn’t a brain surgeon or anything, but doing OK, got kids and a husband and all that.”
“What about the money?” I asked. “Did they admit to taking Harry’s money?”
“They did.” Jarkowski laughed. “I gotta admit that I didn’t think much of your theory, Judge, but you were right. Brooke took the judge’s money, just like her brother, but I can’t see her being desperate enough to kill him over it or anything. She also had an alibi. She was getting breakfast and running the kids off to school that morning.”
“What about the oldest sister?”
“That’s what I’m calling about, Judge,” Jarkowski said. “Wondering if you got that file from the archives yet?”
I looked at the Jennifer Plank file that was now sitting in the corner of my office with the others. “Yeah,” I said. “I finally got it from the warehouse.”
“It’d be great if you could look up that social security number for me. Turns out we got four Tina Planks in California, and I want to narrow it down.”
“I’ll take a look and get back to you,” I said. “It should only take me a few minutes.” Then, as an afterthought, “What about the baby, Jeffrey Plank?”
“That was a weird one,” Jarkowski said. “Didn’t find anything.”
After hanging up the phone, I got the Jennifer Plank file and brought it back to my desk. I opened the first set of documents and paged through the various attorney filings and court orders. I found the social security number for the oldest child fairly quickly and wrote it down before checking the time.
I had another five minutes, probably more, before I needed to return to the courtroom. On a whim, I continued skimming the documents. My phone rang as I reached the end. “This is Judge Thompson.”
Karen told me that the parties were ready to proceed.
“Be there in a few minutes.” I hung up and looked at the last piece of paper in the file, a court order signed by Judge Harry Meyer approving and certifying the baby’s adoption. Before seeing the record, I hadn’t thought too much about the baby. I had always focused on the other three children in the picture. They were the ones who had lost their mother, a mother who loved them. Everybody agreed that Jennifer Plank had never hurt or neglected the three older kids.
I read through the waivers and admissions, then the conclusions of law. The final paragraph of the adoption order made my heart sink. Everything made sense.
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
When the hearings were done, I had time to make multiple copies of Jeffrey Plank’s birth certificate. I also made multiple copies of Harry’s final order in the Jennifer Plank child dependency case, which had granted Jeffrey’s adoption. I took one set of both documents to Karen and asked her to put them in a safe place, and then I took another set of both documents and instructed her to scan and e-mail them to me.
While Karen worked, I went back to my chambers and shut the door. Cell phone in hand, I walked over to the big window overlooking the park, deciding what I should do next.
I could call Nikki first and get her advice, but I didn’t want to get her involved. She didn’t deserve to get in trouble.
Eventually I called Benji Metina, and she answered right away. “Judge Thompson, I was beginning to think you didn’t like me anymore.”
“I like you, Ms. Metina,” I said. “I just needed a break.”
“To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I was wondering whether you still wanted that full interview. On the record.”
“No limits.”
“I can’t talk about pending cases, but, of course, I’m not handling child protection cases anymore. I’m on the criminal rotation now, and all of my old files have been reassigned.”
She was quiet. “So everything we’ve already talked about, like our conversation about Gregory Ports, would go on the record.”
“Everything.”
“What about Judge Meyer, Helen Vox, and Marshall Terry?”
“The same,” I said. “I’ll tell you what I know, the good and bad.”
“And Peter Thill?”
“Yes.” I looked down at the pigeons in the park. They’d gathered once again around the garbage can. The wind had blown a half-eaten bag of potato chips to the ground, and its remaining contents had spilled. “Like I said, you can ask whatever you want. It’ll be exclusive. I won’t follow up with an interview with a television station or anything like that.”
“I have to tell you, Judge . . . I’m surprised. Are you sure you want to do this?”
I turned away from the window. “I’m sure, but I have a condition.”
“What’s the condition?”
“I need to know the name of one of your sources.”
“Reporters don’t reveal the names of their sources, Judge. If that’s the condition, then I don’t think this is going to work.”
“What if they’re in danger, like their life is at risk?” I asked. “Isn’t there an exception?”
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
At the end of the day, I convinced Karen to take care of Augustus for the weekend. She would come over to the house, check on the dog, and take him for a walk. I expected to be back, but I didn’t know what was going to happen. Things could go horribly wrong, and I wanted to make sure that the dog was taken care of. Karen could tell that I was nervous, but she didn’t ask too many questions. The ridiculous amount of money that I offered helped assuage any of her reservations. Nikki was working a double shift at the hospital, and she wouldn’t be home until Sunday morning.
There should be plenty of time.
Our plan was relatively straightforward. Benji Metina and I would fly from San Francisco to Phoenix at six in the morning. We’d arrive two hours later, rent a car, then drive I-17 north from Phoenix to Sedona.
We’d spend the day in Sedona and drive back to Phoenix to catch the nine o’clock flight home that night. It’d be a one-day trip, there and back. Pursuant to our agreement, Benji Metina could interview me the entire time we were in the car. It would be on the record, and she’d be recording our conversation. I’d have no right to retract anything that I said or
later claim that I had misspoken.
Metina intended to e-mail a copy of the exclusive story before getting on the flight home. It’d run in the Sunday newspaper—her editors were reserving a place for it.
I gave Nikki an extra hug and kiss when she left for work Friday evening, and I promised myself that this would be the last secret that I would ever keep from her. I didn’t sleep at all Friday night. My mind was racing, and I was trying to figure out all the different ways that things could go wrong.
At four in the morning I got up, poured some dog food into Augustus’s bowl, and went over to my computer. I pulled up the electronic copies of Jeffrey Plank’s birth certificate and Judge Meyer’s final adoption order, then e-mailed the documents to Jarkowski with a note telling him where I was going and what I was doing. I concluded the e-mail with a request: If something happens, let Nikki know that I love her.
Then I put a hard copy of the documents as well as the four photographs in my briefcase, and I was ready to go.
I fell asleep on the flight, but when we landed, I knew I had to fulfill my end of the bargain. Metina had pages of notes and questions she wanted to ask, and she turned on her digital recorder as soon as I drove us onto the interstate.
We went back and forth. I don’t know if I sounded coherent or crazy, but it felt good to unpack everything that had been compartmentalized and shoved away. The two-hour drive felt much faster as we went through the tan foothills and red canyons of the Southwest.
When we arrived in Sedona, I took out my copy of the vacation rental listing and gave it to Metina. At the bottom was a map, instructions, and an address. She read the instructions to me and guided us to the house.
In front, I stopped. “Here we are. We made it.”
“Are you sure you want me to record this?”
“I’m sure.”
Metina rang the doorbell, and I stood behind her and off to the side. When Billy Pratt came to the door, he looked pleasantly surprised. “Benji,” he said. Then he saw me, and his expression changed. “Judge Thompson.” He looked from me to Benji, then back again. “How’d you find me here?”
“I think you’re in trouble, Billy,” I said. “Can we come inside and talk?”
Billy reluctantly agreed, and he led us through the living room and into the backyard. There was a nice patio, grill, and pool.
We sat around the table, and I took the lead. “Do you know what’s been going on with Helen and Marshall Terry?”
Billy looked at Benji and nodded. “I’ve been following it.” His eyes shifted from side to side, nervous.
“Do they know you’re here?”
“No.” His shoulders slumped. “I didn’t have anyplace else to go. I didn’t have any money for rent, so I’d have been evicted if I didn’t leave. I didn’t have a job. My credit cards were maxed. And I knew this place just sat empty all the time, so why not use it?”
“But you know who owns this place and what it’s been used for?”
He shifted in his seat. “I know it sits empty. That’s all I know.”
“I don’t think that’s true, Billy,” I said. “I talked to Benji, and she said that you had information about Judge Meyer and that you’d sell it to her.”
Billy rolled his eyes. “Maybe. I had to do something to keep going after you fired me.”
“But I think that when Benji told you that she wasn’t going to pay you, you switched tactics and started harassing Harry for money, and he probably gave you some.”
Billy didn’t admit or deny. He could’ve gotten up and left, but he clearly wanted to know what I knew.
“That’s blackmail,” I said. “Extortion, and there’s a bank clerk that I think would recognize your face.” I bluffed. “She remembers you going there with Harry to get the money, and my guess is that if we started to dig, we’d find evidence about where and when you received payments from Harry.”
“You can’t prove anything.” Billy pushed back from the table. “I didn’t do anything except talk to this reporter and tell her how you screwed up and that boy died.”
“It upset you, because it wasn’t the first time the system made a mistake, right?” I opened my briefcase and took one of the photographs out. “I found this in a book in Harry’s house.” I handed the photograph to Billy. “It took me a while to figure out who all these kids were.”
I waited for Billy to say something. When he didn’t, I continued. “It was a family. A case handled by Judge Meyer over twenty years ago. The mother’s name was Jennifer Plank.” I paused, then pushed further. “You see, the oldest girl is Tina.” I pointed at her, then at her younger sister. “And that girl right there is Brooke, and she lives with her husband and kids out in the suburbs. And that boy, right there, his name is Mitchell. He’s struggled, but he’s hanging tough and working at a warehouse. And then there’s this baby.” I pointed at the little child in the center of the picture. “The mom named him Jeffrey, but you already knew that. Right?”
He shook his head. Tears formed in his eyes, but he still hadn’t said a word.
“I know who you are, Billy,” I said. “I know that you’re that baby, and that you were adopted, and that your adoptive parents changed your name. I got the file. I saw the adoption order that Judge Meyer signed. I also know that he was giving your brother and your sisters money over the years, and”—I paused, deciding to shade the truth—“I talked to Helen today, and she’s reached a deal with the prosecutors. She’s going to tell them about the morning Harry died.”
“He screwed up,” Billy said. “And he knew it. He should’ve never terminated my mother’s parental rights. He should’ve never broken up our family.”
“Your mother didn’t tell the truth.”
Billy got angry. “At first, but she came clean. She eventually told the truth about who hurt me, but Judge Meyer was too proud. He couldn’t admit that he made a mistake, that the system doesn’t work.”
“Harry knew the system didn’t work all the time.”
“Then why didn’t he fix it?” Billy shook his head. “I’m a lawyer, remember? Maybe a drunk one, but I graduated law school. I’ve studied the rules, and you cannot tell me that Judge Meyer didn’t have the authority to make things right. This wasn’t a hit-and-run lawsuit. This was a family, and he let my mom go and it destroyed her.”
“He tried to help.”
“He gave us a little money here and there.” Billy was crying now. “That’s true. He gave me an externship during law school, convinced you to hire me. That’s true. But none of that makes up for his decision to split me and my brother and sisters apart.”
“So you killed him?”
He leaned over and put his hands over his face. “I didn’t mean to do it . . . it was an accident, a misunderstanding. I went there to get money. At that point, I knew all about how he was paying for his wife’s treatment, and I knew all about his affair with Ms. Vox, and I knew all about the kickbacks from his buddy Marshall Terry, and I told him I’d tell everyone everything if he didn’t pay me . . . and that scared him.”
He sat up, wiped the tears from his face, and told us how it ended.
“I came to collect. I called a couple times. I don’t remember pieces of it, honestly, because I was drunk, but I know I made some threats—serious threats. Then I told him I was coming over, and when I showed up, Judge Meyer had a gun. I couldn’t believe it. I looked at it, and I started screaming at him. ‘You gonna shoot me? You gonna shoot me?’ I kept yelling that at him. Part of me wanted him to. Suicide sounded good. To die, that sounded really good to me.”
He closed his eyes. “I reached for the gun. We struggled, and as Judge Meyer pulled away, the gun went off.” He shook his head. “I watched him fall to the floor. Then I looked up, and Helen Vox was standing there, watching me. She had been in the other room, screaming at Harry to shoot me, the whole time. She’d seen the whole thing. That’s when I turned and ran.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
“I don’t want to
go to prison.” Billy’s shoulders slumped, weighed down with pity and guilt. “I can’t go to prison, Judge. I just can’t. I can’t do it.”
“It’s not my call.” I looked at Benji Metina, then pushed back my chair and stood up. “I’m sorry.”
Billy’s face stretched long, pleading. “Sure it is, Judge. You don’t have to tell anybody. You don’t have to say anything.” Then he looked at Metina. “Tell him he doesn’t have to do this. Tell him.”
“Goodbye, Billy.” I turned and walked back through the house and out the front door, Metina right behind me. When we were outside and at the car, I asked her if she would e-mail a copy of the digital recording of our conversation with Billy to Jarkowski.
“I will,” she said. “And it’s OK if all of this goes in the story?”
“That was the deal.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
In re the Honorable James Thompson
California State Board on Judicial Standards
Inquiry Transcript, Excerpt
BOARD MEMBER GREEN: When did you hire Billy Pratt?
THOMPSON: Shortly after I was appointed to the bench.
BOARD MEMBER GREEN: And did you check his references?
THOMPSON: Of course.
BOARD MEMBER GREEN: And who were his references?
THOMPSON: I don’t remember all of them, but Judge Meyer was one.
BOARD MEMBER GREEN: Billy Pratt did an externship with Judge Meyer, correct?
THOMPSON: Correct, for course credit.
BOARD MEMBER GREEN: And did Judge Meyer ever disclose or discuss his relationship to Billy Pratt?
[Pause]
THOMPSON: No. I didn’t have any idea.
BOARD MEMBER GREEN: And, eventually, you figured out that Billy Pratt had known Judge Meyer his entire life, and that Judge Meyer was the person who terminated the biological mother’s parental rights and oversaw the adoption.
Good Intentions Page 23