by Denise Irwin
When Sam entered the pub, Smyth and Frankel were there. Smyth called over to him, “Sam join us.”
As he took an empty chair at the table he asked, “Are the two of you commiserating or celebrating?”
Phil laughed, “Today we’re celebrating. The jurors came in with a unanimous vote for indictment on all charges.”
Sam was astonished to say the least. “Sixteen people agreed on all four charges. That alone is unbelievable.”
Adam asked, “So, Investigator, are you set for tomorrow?”
“Damn straight I am. I wanna go home to my bride.”
“Yeah, that’s right, when I saw you last, you had postponed the ceremony. So, the two of you managed to get the deed done?”
“Adam, we did the ceremony at a dog kennel and squeezed in two weeks sailing in the Caribbean. The morning after our flight home, I left for Atlantic City before Leona was out of bed.”
“Two weeks in the Caribbean? I’ve heard rumors that people sail naked in the Caribbean.”
“They aren’t rumors my friend. My bride is tanned all over.”
Smyth and Frankel laughed.
Sam asked Smyth, “How long till you hear about a court date?”
“Sam, it’s already scheduled. We have Schofield for four days starting Tuesday, November 27.”
“Do you mean November 27, of this year?”
“Yes I do. I think Schofield wants this done quickly.”
“Sam, if I do as well tomorrow as Phil did today, I’ll try to schedule something close to the federal case.”
“That would work for me.”
From his rat infested motel room, LoVerde called the US Marshal’s Office to let someone know he needed to speak with his client.
“Where do you want us to pick you up?”
“I’m at the fleabag motel on Pine Street.”
The deputy laughed, “Lying low, are you?”
“Just send someone to pick me up so I can talk to my client.”
“A car will be there in about an hour.”
Shelly called Leona as she left the office, “Hey babe, I’m leaving the office now, where do you want to meet?”
“How about Nacho Mama’s, if you don’t mind picking me up.”
“See you in ten minutes.”
Leona fed and walked Bailey before Shelly arrived. She was waiting on the stoop when Shelly pulled the car in front of her house. Leona nearly jumped into the front seat.
“Leona, are you okay?”
“I’ll tell you what happened today after I get a drink in me.”
“Okay, I won’t waste any time getting you to that margarita.”
Nacho Mama’s was crowded, but there was one table toward the back available. Leona laughed as her friend pushed the crowd aside as if she were the quarterback in a football game to claim that table.
Once she’d reached the end zone for the touchdown, Shelly turned and waved to the waitress. “We need two margaritas, one without alcohol and one with a double shot of tequila. We also want the Nacho Mama’s Macho Nachos to start with.”
When the drinks arrived, Shelly told Leona, “Take a drink of that margarita before you tell me what happened.”
Leona did as Shelly said, and then started her sorry saga. “I was laid off today. John had said that he asked them to give me some sort of compensation. The only thing that bastard offered was to write a recommendation. He also said I could apply for unemployment benefits.”
“What a horse’s ass.”
“That’s what I thought. He’s more than a horse’s ass at this point. He’s attained the title of fucking horse’s ass.” Leona felt much better once she said it aloud.
Two Deputy Marshals picked up one terrified defense attorney. When LoVerde looked around before entering the car, the Deputies laughed at him. The driver told him, “You couldn’t have picked a lousier place to hide.”
The other Deputy handed LoVerde a ski mask, “Put this on. We aren’t in the mood to get ourselves shot tonight.”
When they reached the meeting destination, the Deputies walked on either side of him into what appeared to be a vacant building. Inside he found his client chained to a metal table bolted to the floor.
“I’m gonna make this quick, did you squeal?”
“Fuck no, counselor I did not, so get the hell out of here.”
Chapter Fifteen
November 2001
While Leona walked Bailey the next morning, her anger at Brown and Brown was close to the boiling point. The bastard hadn’t even offered to pay her through the end of the week. That freak of nature knew that she’d put together last year’s Holiday Party; did she get any credit for that? Hell no, she did not. John Bouchard got the credit. She spent a number of weekends working on John’s work to make sure he met his deadlines. What did she get for that hard work? She got nothing, a big fat zero. Had John played her? She just couldn’t picture him lying to her. She didn’t have his new number, which meant she couldn’t ask him. Leona grabbed a newspaper from the box on Thames Street. She’d start looking for a new job this morning.
Leona threw the newspaper on the kitchen table. She wanted another cup of coffee before she started her job search. Bailey felt her anger and meekly sat beside her when she slammed her coffee cup onto the kitchen table. “Bailey, I’m not angry with you. I’m pissed with my ex-boss’s boss.”
She opened the paper on her table and discovered there were a number of job openings. She read all of them, and then went back through the openings circling the ones that she found interesting. Halfway through her task, the phone rang. No one knew she was home, so she figured it was some solicitor. Whoever it was could talk with her voice mail. Leona circled three more opportunities when her cell phone rang. She jumped up from the kitchen chair and dug the phone out of her coat pocket. When Leona answered the call, all her job worries immediately left her head.
“Leona, its Randy, Shelly’s in the hospital.”
“What? Why? What hospital is she in? What happened?
“She was in an automobile accident last night. Some old guy had a heart attack and ran a red light and T-boned her on the driver’s side. We’re at Johns Hopkins.”
“What room is she in? I’m on my way.”
“Lee, I’ll meet you in the main lobby on Monument Street. She’s in surgery.”
“Oh my God, I’m leaving the house now.”
Sam found Adam in the hall outside the jury room. “Adam, will you need me today?”
“Morning Sam, I’m not sure. I have you listed as the fourth witness to testify. Based on Smyth’s experience, I would expect that Cassie and the defendant will chew up most of the day. If you’d like, give me your cell number. I can call you if it looks like I’ll put you on the stand. However, your testimony pertains more to the federal charges. If you’re ready to head home, I’m okay with that.”
Sam pulled his business card from his wallet and handed the card to ADA Frankel. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll stick around. Is Schuman on your list?”
“No, thank God. The only two witnesses I really need to testify are Cassie and Grossman. Since we’re hearing just three charges, this may move along faster than the federal case.”
“Okay, I think I’ll ask Englar to join me for lunch. I haven’t talked with him since I arrived and I’m staying in one of his hotel rooms. Hell, he doesn’t know that I’m an old married man.”
Adam chortled, “I’ll call if I need you.”
When Frankel entered the jury room, his sixteen jurors looked scared to death. He needed to loosen them up or he’d lose them before he had the chance to start his opening summary. He smiled at them. Not one juror returned his smile.
“Before I review the rules and regulations mandated for a Grand Jury, I’m compelled to ask each of you what you had for breakfast.”
Juror Four raised her hand, “Are you serious? I didn’t eat breakfast.”
Frankel laughed, “No, I’m not serious. Each of you looks as th
ough you are the defendant in this case. I need you to relax a bit. I’m a casual kind of guy, so if I’m not making myself clear let me know. I can back peddle my question to make it understandable.”
He saw them relax a bit, so he moved forward. “Here are the rules; you absolutely may not speak with anyone about this case. That includes your spouses, your parents, your neighbors, your grandmother who lives in California, your mail carrier, and lastly with one another. Questions, so far?”
Juror Four raised her hand, “If we can’t talk to one another how do we vote for an indictment?”
Adam chuckled, “Excellent point, I will interview the witnesses first. When I’m done, you may each ask the witness anything you’d like. Just keep your questions focused on the case. A year ago, a juror asked for a witness’ phone number. That’s a major no-no. We are not a dating service. Once we’re satisfied with the testimony given, you will move into the deliberation stage at which point I encourage you to speak freely amongst yourselves to answer any unresolved issues. Once there is no need to discuss the charges further, you will cast a vote either for or against an indictment. Your role is not finding the defendant guilty or innocent. It’s your responsibility to determine if I’ve provided you with enough evidence to take the case before a criminal jury. Are we good?”
Frankel finally saw smiles on the juror faces. “Okay then, I’ll start by presenting the evidence for the Firearms charge, in violation of New Jersey law, 2C:39-3. The police found unregistered firearms in the defendant, Bruce Grossman’s house, which violates. The defendant was a convicted felon, which means he was unable to register those firearms.”
Frankel turned on the large monitor, which displayed the defendant’s rap sheet. He handed copies of Grossman’s rap sheet to Juror One. “Please pass that around the jury members. Once everyone has had the opportunity to review it, we’ll move to the next charge.”
Frankel watched the jurors’ faces as Grossman’s criminal activity history moved from one juror to the next.
After Juror Six had reviewed the sheet, he raised his hand, “How did he get his hands on firearms, if he had this long history for committing felonious crimes?”
“The police work hard to ensure that firearms do not end up in the wrong hands; however, there is a massive underground network that can get the weapons of choice as long as the buyer has enough money to pay for them. The transaction is typically handled with cash.”
When Juror One returned the rap sheet to Frankel, he put it into his brief case. He walked to the jury box. He talked softly to the jurors. “The next charge is that of Rape, in violation of New Jersey Code 2C:14-2. Before I put the photos on the monitor, I want to show you the doctor’s report indicating that FBI Agent Cassandra Henson had been raped and sodomized on numerous occasions over a four-day period.”
As Frankel handed Juror One the hospital report, he continued with his Opening Summary. “The State Crime Lab matched the DNA sample of his semen taken off Agent Henson’s torn shirt to a sample they had on file from a previous case.” He handed the DNA Report to Juror One.
Frankel waited until the jurors had sufficient time to review the doctor’s report. “The next photos are extremely graphic. As I show them on the monitor you will have the opportunity to look at the photographs.” Frankel waited for just a moment or two before he put the photos of Cassie on the monitor.
“FBI Agent Cassandra Henson will testify today and explain the events that took place, but I feel compelled to show you these photos as a part of my opening statement, so that you are not shocked when I question her. The photos I’m about to show you were taken by the local police department after Agent Henson was found and rescued from the defendant’s residence.”
Frankel put the first photo on the screen and handed Juror One the photograph. He slowly advanced the slides on the monitor, handing Juror One the photo at a time. Frankel watched the juror’s faces as he handed each individual photo to Juror One. The Jurors appeared horrified with each new photo. When Frankel showed the last slide, he waited quietly, giving the jurors an opportunity to absorb what they were subjected to viewing.
“Before I move to the last charge of Impersonating a Law Enforcement Official, a violation of code 2C:28-8; are there any questions?”
Juror Eight raised her hand, “Who found that poor woman?”
“Private Investigator Samuel Marksman of Baltimore, Maryland found and rescued her.”
Juror Eight pressed on, “She wasn’t discovered by the police?”
“No ma’am. Investigator Marksman immediately called for police backup when he found her.”
Juror Twelve raised his hand, “Was this Marksman a part of the investigation?”
“No; however, he and Agent Henson had worked together on a previous case. Agent Henson was working undercover here in New Jersey. She was suspicious of the defendant’s behavior, so she compromised her cover and gave someone her real name and asked that if she didn’t report for her undercover job, that he immediately call the Investigator.”
Juror Fourteen raised her hand, “Mr. Frankel, what is that at Agent Henson’s feet? Is it a rug?”
“No ma’am, it’s not.” Frankel paused before telling the jurors, “That is Agent Henson’s dog. The defendant shot her dog and left him at her feet. When the police took these photos, her dog had maggots covering his body; eating his flesh.”
Frankel’s face remained stoic as he watched their shocked faces show repulsion at the heinous photos they’d been shown.
Juror Ten raised his hand, “What was she doing in the defendant’s house?”
“That, sir, brings us to the last charge. The police charged the defendant with Impersonating a Law Enforcement Official, a violation of New Jersey Code 2C:28-8. Agent Henson works out of the Boston office. The Boston director assigned Agent Henson this case. He explained to her that the Assistant Director of the FBI strongly recommended that Agent Grossman work with her. When the police took Grossman into custody, they obtained his fingerprints. The Bureau’s lab analyzed the prints. The prints serve as evidence that the defendant was never a member of the Bureau.
“My realm of questioning for Agent Henson will focus on the rape charge; however, as a member of the Grand Jury, you may ask the witnesses any question that clarifies in your mind the events that took place.”
He looked to the jury box to make sure each juror understood what he’d just told him or her. “Are there any questions?”
When there were no additional questions, he told the jurors, “I think a short break is in order before I bring Agent Henson into the jury room.”
While Frankel looked casual and confident his insides churned with each criminal case, he presented to a Grand Jury. If he fucked up, there was less of a chance to win in the criminal trial.
Leona rushed to the hospital. Just as Randy said, he was waiting in the lobby to meet her. There were tears in his eyes when he told her, “Lee, she’s still in surgery. The only thing I know at this point is that her shoulder is fractured and…” Randy started to sob, “…she lost the baby.”
Leona put her arms around her best friend’s husband, “Have you been here all night.” He nodded that he had. “Have you had anything to eat?”
“Lee, I can’t think about food. It’s likely that since she’s in surgery, she doesn’t know about the baby.”
“Oh my God, can I get you anything. I can go out and pick something up. Randy you need to eat.”
“Thank you for the offer, but I won’t be able to eat anything until I know she’s okay. One of her ribs punctured her heart. Lee, the surgeon said she might not make it off the table alive.”
Frankel led his first witness into the jury room. Cassie looked calm and confident as she took the witness stand. “Members of the Jury, this is our first witness, FBI Agent Cassandra Henson.”
Frankel saw on their faces, the jurors were struggling to believe that the woman in the photos was in fact, this beautiful red head sitting in the witn
ess stand.
Frankel chuckled and then spoke to the jurors, “It’s hard to believe this is the same woman in the photos you saw earlier.” He then turned to face the witness. “Agent Henson, I showed the jurors a number of photos taken by the police before you were removed from Grossman’s residence. I’m going to put them up on the monitor and ask you to walk us through what happened.”
He put the first photo on the monitor. “Agent Henson, can you confirm that you are the person in this picture?”
“Yes sir, I can.”
“Agent Henson where were you when this photo was taken?”
Cassie faced the jury when she answered his question. “That photo was taken in the basement of Mr. Grossman’s residence.”
“May I ask why you were in Mr. Grossman’s private residence? Did you in fact enter his home without permission?”
“No sir, I did not enter his home without permission.”
“Did he invite you into his residence?”
“I don’t know if I could consider it an invitation.”
“Agent Henson, if you didn’t enter his home without his permission and in your statement, indicated that you weren’t sure if it was an invitation, can you please explain, why you were in his residence?
“Yes sir, I can give you an explanation. The Boston FBI Director asked me to work with the defendant to investigate a suspected money laundering case in the Chariot casino. We were working together undercover on the investigation from Mr. Grossman’s home.”
Frankel put the first slide on the monitor.
“Agent Henson, was it part of your undercover work to have someone shackle you to a basement wall?”
“I’ve worked on a number of undercover investigations in the past and I can assure you that I was never shackled to a wall in any of them.” Cassie caught the small smile on Adam’s lips. While she waited for his next question, she thought he looked quite debonair in his dark suit.