New Bowman, Montana
The slamming door echoed in the empty chambers of the court room. Trish led the way down the small aisle toward the front. “Oh wow,” she spoke in awe, her hands touching the shiny wood of the chairs. “Oh wow.”
Henry walked backwards as he looked around. “This . . . this is beautiful. Danny, you did a good job.”
“Don’t credit me,” Danny said. “Judge Grace and her assistant polished this bad boy up. Listen to the acoustics.” Danny proceeded to sing, ‘The Sound of Music.’
Henry’s laughter silenced him. “Do you understand what this . . . discovery hearing is?”
“Somewhat,” Danny shrugged. “I know we sit at the tables up here and wait for the judge.”
“Me on one side and you on the other?” Henry asked.
“I guess.”
“Danny,” Trish spoke, upbeat. “Check this out.” She pushed on the small swinging door that led to the two tables in the front of the court room. “It’s so Perry Mason like. Episode 119, Mother’s Helper.” She giggled and walked to her table.
Henry pointed to Danny’s briefcase. “Nice, uh, briefcase.”
“Thanks. Yours to.”
Henry shook his head and held up his manila folders.
“Where’s your Bowman assistant?” Danny asked.
“I didn’t think he needed to be here. I’ll stop and fill him in.” Henry walked to the table on his left. “I’ll feel so all alone over here.” He sat down and looked at Danny and Trish.
Danny popped open his briefcase but left the contents inside.
Henry wished he would have thought ahead, like Danny, to at least look the part. “Hey, what’s up with that book? It’s supposed to be out today.”
“Tomorrow,” Danny whispered. “We ran out of toner.”
“Stop by. I’ll refill you,” Henry said.
“Thanks.” Danny looked up when he heard the door slam and a woman in a black dress suit walked out. She was a taller woman, full figured, with her age of late forties well hidden. Her hair was neatly pulled up. She carried a stack of papers, notepads and folders. She stopped before Danny, Henry, and Trish. “All rise. The Honorable Judge Grace Hawthorn presiding.”
Henry tired not to snicker when Grace stepped out. She wore a long black robe which hid her bigger figure well. Her hair was neat, shorter, and old world professional.
“Be seated,” Grace nodded and took her seat behind the bench. “Today’s proceedings will be recorded audibly since we do not have a stenographer. Date October 15th. First order of Business, Mr. Kusakari, you have Beginnings business for me to review?”
“Yes, Grace.”
“Mr. Kusakari, outside this courtroom I will find it a pleasure to get to know your acquaintance on a personal level, but in my courtroom, you will call me ‘Your Honor’ or Judge Hawthorn’. Understood?”
“Yes . . . Your Honor.”
“Good, bring the business forward.”
Henry picked up a few of his folders and brought them to the bench. “Joe wanted you to handle these. These are petitions that were given to our former Rev. Bob to annul three different dedications. He wants you to handle them.”
“Very well.” Grace handed the folders to her assistant. “Carol, thank you. Mr. Kusakari, tell Mr. Slagel I will review and set up hearing times. If you and Mr. Hoi can wait around our fair city after these proceeding, I’ll schedule times.”
Henry shrugged. “Sure.” He returned to his seat.
“All right,” Grace breathed out. “This is the first initial discovery hearing. Basically, I want to set up final discovery and a tentative jury pool day. Gentlemen, how does one week from today sound for final discovery?”
Henry nodded. “Sounds good to me.”
Danny leaned into Trish over an open date book. “Your Honor, the twenty-second is busy in the afternoon for me. Could it be early morning?”
“Nine a.m.?” Grace suggested then peered to her assistant. “Schedule final discovery for October twenty-second at nine a.m.. All right. Moving on. I want to see where we are with evidence. Final discovery will determine whether or not we need more time. I’ll set a tentative jury pool date for the twenty-fifth. As for now, let’s see where we stand evidence wise and present our objections to what we have to date. Mr. Kusakari, will you make your formal appearance and let us know what you have.”
Henry looked dumbfounded.
“Stand up, state your name, and tell us what you have,” Grace told him.
“Sorry.” Henry stood. “I’ve never done this before.”
“Understandable. Go on.,” Grace nodded.
“I . . . have our video testimonies.” Henry flipped through his notes. “Some documentation and testimony from Mrs. Slagel herself, some letters . . .” Henry turned a page. “And some witnesses in mind.” He went to sit down.
“Any names?” Grace asked.
“Of?” Henry questioned.
“Witnesses?”
“Nothing etched in stone yet. I do have ideas though,” Henry told her.
“You’ll give me and Mr. Hoi a complete list, or at least what you have, by next week.”
“Yes, Your Honor.” Henry sat fully down.
“May I have my copy of your list?” Grace asked.
“Oh, uh . . .” Henry fluttered his lips. “I didn’t make one. I can write it down for you while I’m waiting on those trial dates.”
“That will work.” Grace made a note. “And possibly a copy for Mr. Hoi?”
“Yeah, sure.” Henry nodded.
“Anything else?” Grace asked.
“Nope, that’s it.” Henry tossed his hands up and hid the sneaky grin that crept upon his face. He knew Danny was next and it was time to see Danny under the ‘Grace’ pressure.
“Mr. Hoi.” Grace looked at Danny. “Will you make your formal appearance?”
“Yes, your honor.” Danny stood up and ran his hand down his tie. “Good morning. I’m Daniel Jefferson Hoi, representation for the defendant Andrea Winter-Slagel. This is Ms. Patricia Koenig, my legal assistant.”
Trish stood slightly. “Morning, Your Honor.”
Grace nodded.
“Your Honor . . .” Danny held up a folder. “If I may pass out what I have?”
“You may.”
“Permission to approach the bench?”
“Permission granted.”
Danny carried one folder up to Grace. “We, the defense, intend to prove Andrea Slagel’s innocence in a trial of treason through written historical documentation, discrediting the video testimony. . .” He gave an open mouthed Henry his folder and returned to his seat. “Witnesses and physical evidence.” Danny opened his own folder. “I have intent to file a motion to dismiss the video evidence your honor.”
“On what grounds, Mr. Hoi?”
“On the grounds that no member of the defense was present and all of those witnesses whose video testimony will be presented are now deceased. There is no way for them to rebuke or dispute.”
“I expect that motion given to me Monday morning for my review before final discovery.” Grace wrote something down. “I’m seeing this physical evidence and historical evidence list. Where is the witness list?”
“Page fourteen, Your Honor.”
Henry, mouthing the word ‘fourteen’, finally flipped open his folder. His loud gasp of surprise at Danny’s presentation was barely hid.
“I see.” Grace nodded.
“Aside from Rev. Bob,” Danny said, “you may notice a Mr. John Matoose as a witness. Mr. Matoose is a quadriplegic on a respirator at this time. Now, not that we’re going for the Christopher Reeve effect, but we may need to transport the jury and yourself to the hospital if his health doesn’t improve.”
“Request granted.” Grace closed her folder. “Mr. Hoi, very nicely presented.” She shifted her eyes quickly to Henry who gasped. “Very well. Discovery is adjourned until next Thursday. Mr. Kusakari, I will expect you back here in one hour for those sch
edules. Good afternoon.” Grace stood up.
Henry only nodded. He barely had time to stand up like Danny and Trish when Grace rose and left the courtroom. He turned his head to Danny who was closing his briefcase. “Danny?”
“Yes?” Danny looked at him.
“You said you didn’t know what was going to happen. You said in the truck you were dumbfounded.”
“Yes, I did,” Danny grinned.
“Why didn’t you two tell me what to expect?”
Danny chuckled. “Right, Henry. Why would I want you to be prepared? I want to win. Let’s go, Trish. Let’s hit the Mess Hall while we wait to take Henry back.”
Henry’s mouth stayed open as the two arrogantly walked by him, down the aisle, and from the courtroom. “Bastards,” Henry gasped. “I’ll show them. Ha.” Gathering up attitude along with his cheesy manila folders in a huff, Henry was the last to leave the court room.
Beginnings, Montana
It was a small silver freezer case and it sat in the corner of the tiny back room. The freezer was sometimes referred to as the dust collector, since Dean and Ellen could barely remember when they went in there. Emotionally, Ellen stood before the case and closed the lid. Her hands shook as she turned the key lock on the case, secured it, and placed the key in her pocket. Slowly, with her hand moving across the dust on the top of that freezer, Ellen stepped from the back room of the cryo-lab.
She tried to smile when a sad whimper came from Bub the Savage. “I know,” she said then saw Andrea standing there. “Sorry.”
“Mind occupied?” Andrea asked.
“Very.” Ellen walked to the counter.
Andrea smiled at Bub then held up a folder in a showing manner to Ellen. “Done.” She set it in front of Ellen. “I suppose it’s the last.”
“The last.” Ellen laid her hand on top of it and sat down.
“Did you review the others?”
“No.” Ellen shook her head. “I know what I came up with. I was waiting for yours.”
Closing her mouth, Andrea nodded. “I suppose you want to see those in private?”
“Do you mind?”
“Not at all.”Andrea walked over to her. “Joe and I would love to have you for supper tonight. We can talk about other things, my trial perhaps. Danny had the first meeting.”
“I’d . . . I’d like to talk about other things.”
“Everything works out.” Andrea laid her hand on Ellen’s cheek. “The Good Lord never places upon our shoulders more than we can handle. Remember that.”
Ellen slowly nodded her head.
“If you need me, you know where to find me.”
“Thank you.” Ellen watched Andrea start to leave. “Andrea.”
“Yes?”Andrea turned around.
“Can you . . .” Ellen cleared her throat. Emotions caused her voice to crack. “Could you be the one to explain this to my father? I . . . I can’t. I can’t, not to him.”
“If you’d like.”
“I’d like.”
“Then I will. But he’ll be the only person I speak to regarding this.”
“I appreciate that.”
Andrea’s deep nostril breath rang out in the room. She gave a reassuring smile to Ellen then turned and walked out.
Ellen peered down to the folders. Her results were set off to the right. She separated Andrea’s, Jason’s, and Johnny’s result folders. Wringing the nervousness from her hands, she reached for Johnny’s. “Here I go, Bub.” Slowly she opened it. Ellen only blinked then closed it and placed it on top of hers. She opened Jason’s and projected the same calm, cool response. Andrea’s was last and Ellen, without hesitation, flipped it open. Her exhale came out in the post reading of the final result. She gathered the folders and placed all four into one. She shook her head and looked at Bub. “There has to be a reason, an explanation. Right?” Her mood charged up a little. “Right.” Ellen nodded. “I missed something back there. I know it.” She moved with determination to the small back room. Once inside, she pulled out her key and went back to the small silver freezer case. “I missed something.”
^^^^
“I’m not a secretary, Dr. Dean,” Johnny griped.
“You are absolutely right,” Dean nodded. “You aren’t. My God, I’ve trained you for better.”
“You’re not the only doctor.”
“True,” Dean said.
“Andrea?”
“She’s busy with the church thing. Jason has a meeting.”
“Ellen?” Johnny suggested.
Dean went silent and lost all ‘up’ to him. “I’m gonna assume she’s really busy with the Pap smear slides she has. She won’t let me in the cryo-lab.”
“Well what’s so important that you have to stop typing notes and I have to stop with the blood work?”
“Health issue, Johnny. I do this or my notes.”
“Do your notes. I’ll do the emergency.”
“Excellent.” Dean smiled and handed Johnny the chart. “Glen, you know, at his older age has trouble. So he’s in Room Three with a fecal impaction.”
Johnny nervously chuckled and withdrew his hand. “Notes.”
Dean tossed Johnny the little dictation tape from his pocket. “Notes.” He stepped back. “Wish me luck. Everything’s ready. I’ve all ready started.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Johnny walked over to the computer. “Great choice for today,” he bitched to himself as he sat down. “I’m a secretary or I’m an enema.” He placed the tape in the player and put the headphones on. “Let’s see.” Johnny peered to the screen, rewound the tape some, and pressed ‘play’. He read and bobbed his head from side to side, positioning his hands on the keyboard. With a nod, Johnny found the portion of the tape that wasn’t already typed. His fingers clicked then stopped. He’d back up the tape, play some more, and type again. In the midst of ‘really on a roll’, Johnny stopped. He tilted his head. Nothing was coming out. “What?” He brought his hand to the player, paused, and shook his head. “Swell, Dr. Dean. Don’t shut off your tape player while you’re talking. Boring.” Just as Johnny reached to fast forward, he pulled back his hand with a wide grin, and jumped to his feet. “No.” He smiled wider. “No, I am not this lucky.” Just to be sure, he rewound the tape, played it, and listened again. “God, you must love me.” He stopped the player, pulled off the headset, looked up to the ceiling with a silent ‘thank you’, and removed the tape from the player.
Ellen couldn’t breathe. Her chest was crushing and her air left her as fast as all hope did. The cold metal of the silver freezer case was soothing to the headache that began to pound. Ellen leaned against the locked freezer with her forehead pressed to the surface and her hands flush to both sides of her face.
“El.” Johnny stepped into the back room. There was not a smile upon his face. He had even taken the time to mess up his hair to give himself that extra look of dismay.
“Johnny.” Ellen sprang up, surprised at the intrusion. “Hey, uh, what are you doing here?”
“This is not a good time.” Johnny backed up. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m sorry.”
“No, wait.” Ellen flew forward, grabbing his arm. “There’s reason you came down here. What is it?”
Johnny’s exhale was dramatically long and loud. He clenched his jaws and stared up at the ceiling. “I . . . I came across . . .” He shook his head. “Not today, El. Some other time.”
“You obviously felt it was important. What?”
Johnny swallowed loudly. “I was just bothered. I’m probably making too much out of it. That’s why I thought later would be better.” He turned his back and Ellen grasped his arm.
“Johnny, what is it?” she asked softly.
Johnny smiled before somberly facing her again. “I came across something that really bothered me. It . . . it has nothing to do with what’s going on today.”
Ellen closed her eyes. “That’s a relief.”
“It has to do with Alex. Maybe because, you know, she�
�s my baby sister and all but . . .”
“What’s going on with Alex?”
“I think you should listen to what I heard.” He reached into his lab coat and lifted out the small tape. “You don’t have to listen now, but when you get a chance. It just really, really bothered me, El.” He gave it to her. “I’m sorry.”
“What is . . .” Ellen felt the heaviness return when she looked at the small cassette tape in her hand. Dean’s tape. His handwriting. His audible notes and Ellen was afraid to listen.
^^^^
“So that’s basically what I want to do,” Frank explained to his father, Jason, and Robbie. “I want full squads with twenty four hour coverage.”
Joe whistled as he leaned back in the chair. “That’s a lot of men.”
“That’s pretty much all of our men.” Frank walked over to a chair next to Robbie. He started to sit. “I originally wanted to . . . ow.” Frank sprang up and paced. “I originally wanted to have men posted at each weak . . .”
“Frank,” Joe interrupted.
“What?”
“Why did it hurt to sit?” Joe questioned. “Not that it has anything to do with anything, but why?”
“Oh, my ass hurts.”
Robbie snickered.
Joe shifted his eyes with a warning to Robbie then back to Frank. “Why . . . why does your ass hurt? Did you get arrowed there?”
“No. Fuckin Dean rammed me.”
Robbie lost it in laughter.
“Excuse me?” Joe questioned.
“Rammed me,” Frank repeated. “he stuck a needle so hard in my . . .” He paused when he heard his father’s exhale. “What?”
“Nothing. So go on. You were saying about the weaker points.”
“Yeah, originally I wanted to have men posted at each weak point but we have so many it would take too many men and exhaustion could hit at . . . Fuck!”
“What?” Joe jumped back.
“Fuck, Dad. You thought I was making a gay reference. Dean?” Frank fluttered his lips. “Anyhow.”
Joe rolled his eyes. “I’m never getting out of this meeting, am I?”
The Next Ten: Beginnings Series Books 11 - 20 Page 77