THOMPSON: I learned that after Billy was terminated.
BOARD MEMBER GREEN: As a judge, do you think it was appropriate to conduct your own investigation into Harry Meyer’s death?
THOMPSON: I was grieving. I was looking for answers. [Pause] I don’t know if I should have done anything differently.
I looked across the table at Nick Green, then at Judges Feldman and Nitz. “I have to be honest with you,” I said. “I didn’t want to punish Billy Pratt; I only wanted the truth.” I shook my head. “Maybe Harry Meyer would’ve done that. He’d bent the rules because he thought that the purpose justified the means. But that wouldn’t be the right thing to do. I, alone, shouldn’t have the power to do that.”
I took a deep breath, and it felt good to say something out loud that had been kicking around in my head for so long. “Hiding evidence to manipulate an outcome is inappropriate behavior for a judge or anybody, and I wasn’t going to do that. We gave the recording to Detective Jarkowski, and the criminal system is going to do whatever it does. It’s not in my control.”
For the first time Nick Green didn’t have anything to say, and neither did Judges Nitz and Feldman. I’d been there all day, and I wondered whether it was finally done.
“I don’t think we have any further questions,” Judge Feldman said. “Is there anything further you’d like to say?”
“No.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
On the Saturday before Thanksgiving, families had gathered at the courthouse. Some girls wore fancy dresses. Some boys wore suits with small clip-on ties. The waiting area outside the courtrooms—normally a place of frustration and boredom—overflowed with balloons. People snapped pictures, dined on cake and punch, and laughed.
It was National Adoption Day.
Karen Fields ordered everyone to rise when I entered the courtroom. As I sat down, I scanned all the faces. They were smiling. They were happy. Their families were about to grow.
“Good morning, everybody,” I said. “It’s a great day, and I’m so honored to be here for you.” I thought about the governor’s press conference in Sacramento, where he’d announced his task force’s recommendations. I wished he and the other task force members were in my courtroom instead so that they could see the success stories. Despite the system’s flaws, many had better lives because of it.
“We have every courtroom in this building filled. As we speak, a dozen families are in the process of being reborn in a dramatic way with the addition of a child . . . or two or, in this case, three.” I asked the parents, as well as the social worker and guardian ad litem, to introduce themselves for the record.
From the pages in the blue binder before me, I worked through the statutorily required questions. One by one, the parents answered under oath. They denied that they had ever been convicted of a serious crime. They recited their own family history and confirmed that the social worker had given them information about the children and the ongoing financial support that they may be eligible to obtain.
After they had answered all these questions, I got to the end. “Do you promise to love and care for these children to the best of your ability? Do you promise to provide for these children emotionally, financially, and with the best education?”
Both parents agreed, and I announced that I was granting the petition for adoption. As I signed the written order and gave it to Karen, I looked out at the people gathered. I smiled. “Now’s the moment when you all get to clap.”
And the courtroom erupted in cheers and applause.
After taking pictures with the children and the family, I returned to my chambers and sat down. Ten minutes later, Karen knocked on the doorframe, then came into my office.
“There are some reporters outside in the hallway,” she said. “They were wondering whether you wanted to talk to them about National Adoption Day or the task force’s recommendations.”
“Not really.”
“Nothing?”
“Tell them I’m on the criminal assignment now,” I said. “They should talk to Judge Perillo. He’s in charge of the child dependency courts now. I just came back for the day.”
Nikki waited for me outside the courthouse. Her belly had now grown large as the due date approached. “You were fabulous.”
“Thank you.” I kissed her and gave her a hug. “I’ve decided I’m going to do this every year, regardless of what assignment I’m on.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Nikki opened her purse and removed an envelope made of heavy paper, off-white. In the corner, printed in dark blue, was the name and return address for the Board on Judicial Standards.
Although I didn’t know when exactly the decision was going to be made, I had known it was coming.
After an ethics violation is investigated, the lower panel makes factual findings as well as a recommendation to the full board. Then every member of the California State Board on Judicial Standards meets in private and decides whether to accept, reject, or modify the lower panel’s finding and recommendation.
“Do you want to sit down?” she asked.
I nodded, and we walked to a park bench, the one I could see from my window. The one always surrounded by pigeons pecking away at something fallen from the nearby garbage can.
I sat on the bench, then carefully slid my index finger underneath the seal along the top. The tear followed the edge, and the envelope opened. I had a lump in my throat. I was sure that this was going to be the end. This was the moment when Nick Green won. I was sure that the Board on Judicial Standards was going to remove me from office.
It only seemed reasonable, given all that I’d done.
I reached inside and pulled out the folded pieces of paper.
The first page was a brief cover letter. Attached was a six-page decision by the board. Along the top, it stated, “In the matter of Judge James Thompson.” Then, in bold type:
PRIVATE REPRIMAND
I read the words again. Then I skimmed the findings of fact and flipped to the end of the decision:
BASED ON THE FOREGOING FINDINGS AND CONCLUSIONS, THE BOARD HEREBY ISSUES THE FOLLOWING PRIVATE REPRIMAND AND CONDITIONS:
You are hereby privately reprimanded for the foregoing misconduct.
You will comply with the following conditions:
You will determine the causes of the misconduct set forth above and take the actions necessary to ensure that the misconduct is discontinued and not repeated.
You will attend the National Judicial College in Reno, Nevada, and successfully complete coursework in Judicial Ethics, Enhancing Judicial Bench Skills, and Courtroom Management.
You will attend and successfully complete the weeklong Child Abuse and Neglect Institute sponsored by the National Council of Juvenile and Family Court Judges.
The Chief Judge shall appoint you a judicial mentor, and you shall meet with your mentor at least once per month for two years.
That was it. There were four things the Board on Judicial Standards could have done. First, they could dismiss the complaint. Second, they could remove me from office. Third, they could issue a public admonishment. Fourth, they could issue a private admonishment.
I flipped back to the first page of the board’s decision. I reread it, confirming that the decision was private. Confirming that there wasn’t going to be another newspaper article about “The Kitten.”
I kissed Nikki and whispered, “It’s over. We can move on.” And then I kissed her again.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Many thanks to Megha Parekh and the entire team at Thomas & Mercer for their patience and support of this story. Child abuse and neglect is not an easy topic. In addition to writing a compelling mystery, my goal was to highlight the many people impacted by this issue as well as those in the system—social workers, foster parents, attorneys, and judges—who are trying to make the best decisions they can under enormous time constraints, with limited resources and limited choices. They deserve our thanks and understanding.
ABOUT TH
E AUTHOR
Photo © 2016 Gwen Kosiak
Award-winning author J.D. Trafford, described as a “writer of merit” by Mystery Scene magazine, has topped numerous Amazon bestseller lists, including reaching #1 on the Legal Thrillers list. IndieReader selected his debut novel, No Time to Run, as a bestselling pick and Little Boy Lost was an Amazon Charts bestseller. Trafford graduated with honors from a top-twenty law school and has worked as a civil and criminal prosecutor, as an associate at a large national law firm, and as a nonprofit attorney. He’s handled issues related to housing, education, and poverty in communities of color. Prior to law school, he worked in Washington, DC, and lived in Saint Louis, Missouri. He now lives with his wife and children in the Midwest and bikes whenever possible.
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