Life Everlasting

by Robert Whitlow

  “Less than five minutes.”

  “I’ll review it in my chambers and then listen to any closing arguments.” The judge banged his gavel. “The court will be in recess for fifteen minutes.”

  37

  The purpose of the attorney-client privilege is to encourage full and frank communication between attorneys and their clients and thereby promote broader public interests in the observance of law and administration of justice.

  UNITED STATES V. ZOLIN

  I’m going to find Rena,” Alexia said to Sean when she returned to the table. “The man with the scar on his head is the detective from Mitchell County.”

  “Go ahead. I need to stay here.”

  Alexia walked down the aisle. As she passed Giles Porter, their eyes met. He looked at her without emotion. Outside the courtroom, Alexia quickly scanned the hallway. No Rena. She went to the ladies’ restroom and found her client standing at a sink with water dripping from her chin, a paper towel in her hand.

  “He was there,” Rena said.

  “I know. He came into the courtroom while I was testifying. It made it hard for me to remain focused.”

  Rena faced her with an incredulous expression. “You saw him?”

  “Of course. He sat down behind you.”

  “No, no. He was in the jury box on the first row, third seat from the end. He had the most awful expression on his face, and when he laughed out loud, it was so cruel—” Rena stopped.

  “Who?”

  “Baxter.”

  Startled, Alexia remembered that Rena briefly saw an apparition of her husband in the courtroom in Greenville. Rena stared straight ahead as she continued.

  “But it was different from any of the other times—he was so real, and I couldn’t make him go away. I shut my eyes. I tried making a noise. I looked away at other people. I dug a fingernail into my arm until it bled. But nothing made a difference. And then the sound of his voice.” Rena closed her eyes and her face contorted. “The laugh. It was beyond description. I had to get out.”

  “Rena, I had no idea. You told me in Greenville, but—”

  “You don’t want to know.” Rena leaned over and splashed her face with more water. She patted it dry with a towel. “But you saw him too?”

  “No,” Alexia answered. “I thought you were talking about Giles Porter. He was sitting behind you.”

  Rena rested her forehead against the mirror. She closed her eyes.

  “What is he doing here?”

  “I don’t know. It’s an open hearing, so he can come and listen. I haven’t tried to talk to him.”

  Rena stood up straight. “I’m going crazy. Baxter didn’t kill me at the cliff, but he’s going to kill me from his hospital bed.”

  Alexia routinely counseled distraught women, but Rena fell into a different category. Alexia racked her mind for a plan.

  “Don’t go back to the courtroom,” she said after a few moments. “We’ll find a chair in a hallway where you can wait for me.”

  “What’s going to happen? I thought I might have to testify.”

  “No, it’s not a good strategy, and you’re in no shape to face cross-examination. Right now the judge is doing an in camera review of the videotape.”

  “He has a camera?”

  “No, it’s a legal term for a judge looking at evidence in his office without anyone else present. He’s going to watch the tape before making a decision.”

  Rena spun, her eyes wild with fear.

  “That’s no good! We’ve lost! They’re going to charge me with murder!”

  Alexia tried to remain calm. “It’s not unusual for a judge to review potential evidence in private. I should have mentioned it to you earlier. Trust me. Just because the judge sees the tape does not mean anyone else will know about it. It’s part of the process.”

  Rena banged her fist against the sink. When she did, Alexia could see the place where she’d gouged her left forearm. A bruise was spreading around the cut.

  “You can’t stay in here,” Alexia said. “Let’s go find a place for you to sit.”

  Rena wadded up the paper towel and threw it in a trash can. “What’s the use? I’m going to be treated like garbage.”

  Alexia found a police officer and asked about a place where Rena could sit.

  “There’s a snack room on the lower level,” the officer replied.

  They rode the elevator. Neither spoke. They stepped out and found the snack room.

  “Do you have money for the machines?” Alexia asked.

  Rena nodded.

  “Stay here until I come back to get you. It won’t be long.”

  Rena found a small table with one chair beside it and sat down.

  “Are you going to be okay?” Alexia asked.

  Rena waved her off. “Go, do your lawyer thing.”

  Reluctantly, Alexia returned to the elevator. She couldn’t dismiss a nagging thought that Rena wouldn’t be in the snack room when she returned.

  Alexia rejoined Sean and checked her watch. Judge Moreau had not returned and Giles Porter was gone.

  “Did you find her?” Sean asked.

  “Yes. She’s upset, and I took her downstairs to the snack room.”

  Sean didn’t probe. He flipped through the pages of an appellate-court decision he’d marked in several places with a yellow highlighter. Alexia left him alone. She glanced over at Joe Graham, who was intently studying some papers on the table in front of him.

  Judge Moreau reentered the courtroom.

  “All rise!” the bailiff commanded.

  The judge resumed his place on the bench. Nothing in his face revealed his thoughts about the video.

  “Proceed for the movant,” he said. “I’ll give you no more than five minutes.”

  Sean stood but stayed behind the table.

  “Your Honor, the U.S. Supreme Court has described the attorney-client privilege as ‘the oldest of the privileges for confidential communications known to the common law.’ In United States v. Zolin, the Court explained that its purpose was ‘to encourage full and frank communication between attorneys and their clients and thereby promote broader public interests in the observance of law and administration of justice.’ This purpose requires that clients be free to ‘make full disclosure to their attorneys’ of past wrongdoings in order that the client may obtain ‘the aid of persons having knowledge of the law and skilled in its practice.’

  “The attorney-client privilege is not without costs, since it has the effect of withholding relevant information from investigative and fact-finding bodies; however, unless the information sought relates to a future crime or fraud, the sanctity of the privilege must be protected.”

  Sean stepped from behind the table. “In this case, the evidence unequivocally shows that Mrs. Richardson shared information, including the videotape, with Ms. Lindale as part of a confidential communication in which she was seeking legal advice and counsel. Our own Supreme Court emphasized this point in State v. Owens and held that once the attorney-client relationship is established, privileged communications must be protected from coerced disclosure. Having seen the videotape, you are able to make a judgment that it does not fit within the future crime or fraud exceptions to the general rule prohibiting disclosure. To allow the grand jury to obtain the videotape under the facts of this case would violate a principle that has been part of our jurisprudence for hundreds of years.”

  Sean picked up copies of the exhibits from the corner of the table. “You have our documentary evidence; you’ve received the testimony of Ms. Lindale; you are familiar with the guidelines given by our appellate courts. Our brief cites other judicial precedent, which time will not allow me to emphasize. Your full consideration of all arguments is requested, and on behalf of Mrs. Richardson, I respectfully urge you to grant the motion to quash the subpoena.”

  Sean sat down, and Graham stood up.

  “Judge Moreau, opposing counsel would make this case more complicated than it is. We’re not h
ere to overturn principles established by the U.S. Supreme Court, and Ms. Lindale certainly has the right to file the motion to quash as a means to resolve her ethical dilemma. However, the motion must be denied because the State is not asking Ms Lindale to force her client to incriminate herself.”

  Graham held up a copy of the subpoena. “We’re here to protect the ability of a grand jury to uncover relevant information necessary for the administration of justice. Attached to this subpoena is an affidavit from Detective Rick Bridges establishing probable cause to support the grand jury’s request for the videotape. This document alone justifies issuance of the subpoena. A grand jury can force a potential defendant to provide a DNA sample. How much more a videotape?”

  Graham placed the subpoena on the table. “According to the testimony of Ms. Lindale, the videotape does not depict privileged communication between lawyer and client. If the court grants the motion, it means that an individual can deliver nonprivileged documents or data into the hands of a lawyer and thus place it outside the reach of a bona fide legal investigation. This is not the intent of the appellate courts in any of the cases cited by Mr. Pruitt. General summaries of the attorney-client privilege are not applicable to the facts of this case. Ms. Lindale should not be able to deny the grand jury access to the video, and the solicitor urges the court to deny the motion.”

  Alexia heard the back door of the courtroom close. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Giles Porter take a seat on the back row. Judge Moreau cleared his throat. Alexia suspected the judge would take the case under advisement and issue a ruling in a couple of days. All the attorneys remained seated.

  “Come forward, Ms. Lindale,” the judge said.

  Puzzled, Alexia approached the bench. The judge handed the videotape to her.

  “Ms. Lindale, deliver the videotape to the solicitor instanter. Mr. Graham, prepare a suitable order denying the motion.”

  Sean was on his feet. “Your Honor, we request a delay pending a decision whether to appeal.”

  “Denied. Anything further?”

  “No sir.”

  Alexia walked over to Graham and handed him the tape. She saw no hint of a smirk on the solicitor’s face. He took it from her and put it in an expandable file on the table. Judge Moreau and the assistant solicitor left the courtroom. Alexia nudged Sean and pointed to the rear of the courtroom. Porter walked up the aisle toward them.

  “We’re not finished,” she said.

  When Porter reached the bar, he put his hand inside his coat pocket and took out an envelope. Alexia and Sean faced him across the low railing.

  “Good afternoon, Ms. Lindale,” he said. “Mr. Pruitt, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” Sean replied.

  Porter spoke. “I’m here to arrest your client on a charge of assault and battery with intent to kill Baxter Calhoun Richardson.” He glanced at Sean. “I believe that’s Code section 16-3-620, counselor. Here’s the warrant.”

  Porter handed the envelope to Sean, who opened it and removed a sheet of paper. Alexia stood to the side so she could read it over his shoulder. The hammer had finally fallen. Rena faced a multiple-front war with battles to be fought in the mountains as well as the coast.

  “I need to serve your client with the warrant,” Porter said. “Where is she?”

  “Downstairs in the snack room,” Alexia answered.

  Porter turned and began walking to the door.

  “Wait. We’re coming with you,” Alexia said.

  The detective stopped while Sean threw the remaining papers from the hearing into his briefcase. The two lawyers and the detective left the courtroom together. They rode the elevator to the bottom floor of the building in silence.

  As the elevator doors opened, Alexia asked, “Will you let me tell her? I won’t take her anywhere private; just let me break the news to her and let her know what to expect. She’s emotionally fragile, and I’m not sure how she’ll react to this news.”

  “Alright.” Porter nodded.

  “Do you want me there too?” Sean asked.

  “No.”

  They walked to the snack room. Alexia went inside while Sean and Porter waited in the hallway. Three teenagers with spiked hair dyed blue, red, and purple were eating candy bars and drinking soft drinks at a table in the middle of the room. An older man sat near the drink machine reading a newspaper. The table where Alexia left her client was vacant.

  Rena was gone.

  Alexia scanned the small room in disbelief, though intuition had warned her Rena might run away. She stood still long enough to collect her thoughts and then returned to the hallway. Sean and Porter were talking.

  “I’ll check the ladies’ restroom,” she said casually.

  Porter watched her closely as she passed by. The restroom around a corner at the end of a hallway was empty. Alexia leaned against the sink and flipped open her cell phone. Service was poor in the basement of the building, but she scrolled down to Rena’s number and hit the send button. The phone rang until Rena’s answering message responded.

  Alexia kept her voice calm. “Call me when you get this message. I’ll have my phone on.”

  She returned to the hallway but stopped beside a water fountain. She couldn’t face Porter without a plan in place. Again taking her phone from her purse, she called Ted. He answered on the second ring. Alexia spoke rapidly.

  “I’m at the courthouse in Charleston and don’t have long to talk. A detective from Mitchell County is here to arrest Rena for trying to kill Baxter. She left before finding out about the Mitchell County warrant. I have no idea where she’s gone, but I suspect she’ll go to her house to pick up some things and then try to leave town.”

  “Why would she do that if she doesn’t know what’s going on?”

  “She’s been talking about running away for weeks. She’s under pressure from every direction. Psychologically, she’s very fragile.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Go over to her house. She didn’t have a car here so she would have to take a taxi.”

  “A taxi from Charleston to Santee?”

  “Yes. A hundred dollars for a cab ride is not a problem for Rena.”

  “What do I do if she shows up?”

  “Stall her. If the detective thinks she’s fleeing, she’ll have a much harder time obtaining bond. Don’t mention my call. I’ll tell her what’s going on when I get there.”

  “What proof does the detective have that Rena did anything wrong?”

  “None that I know of. But he did have a warrant.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Get to Santee as fast as I can.”

  Alexia shut the phone and rounded the corner. Porter peered over Sean’s shoulder in her direction, and she knew from the look in the detective’s eyes that telling him what had happened would be a formality.

  “She’s not here,” Alexia said. “Once she knew that she wasn’t going to testify, she probably went back to Santee.”

  “Did you try to contact her?” Porter asked.

  “Yes. I left her a voice message on her cell phone.”

  “Did you mention the warrant?”

  Porter had no right to pry into Alexia’s communication with her client, but she decided not to antagonize him and risk precipitating a manhunt for Rena.

  “No. I suggest we go to her house in Santee. You can serve the warrant there.”

  Porter rubbed his hand across the top of his head. “I’ll contact the Santee police and ask them to keep an eye on the house until I can get there. I don’t want to have to chase your client across the country.”

  “Will you wait until I arrive to arrest her?” Alexia persisted. “I have to pick up my car at Mr. Pruitt’s office.”

  “As long as I don’t encounter any problems, I’ll give you a few minutes leeway.”

  Alexia and Sean walked quickly out of the courthouse together. When they were beyond earshot, Sean asked, “Where is she?”

  “I have no idea,
but she was hallucinating in the courtroom before she ran out. She saw Baxter sitting in the jury box.”

  “That’s bad.”

  While they drove to Sean’s office, Alexia told him the gist of her conversation with Rena in the bathroom.

  The Charleston lawyer considered the information before replying. “Ever since the day I quizzed Rena over the phone, I’ve not been satisfied with her answers about the incident at the waterfall. Have you considered the possibility that Porter is right? If Rena flips in and out of reality, her actions may be unpredictable.”

  “It’s crossed my mind,” Alexia admitted. “But if that’s the case—” she stopped.

  “You’d have to admit that you’ve been wrong.” Sean turned onto the street in front of his office and pulled in behind her car. “I don’t know the truth, but regardless of the facts, Rena needs legal representation.”

  “Do you want to follow me to Santee?” Alexia asked. “Rena will need both of us.”

  Sean shook his head. “No. I have something more important to do.”

  “What?” Alexia asked in surprise.

  “Arrange for Rena’s bond. I have a law-school buddy who practices in a county adjacent to Mitchell County. I’m going to see if he can contact a local magistrate and clear the way for a bond before Porter drags Rena to the mountains. I don’t want to go there myself until we have a preliminary hearing.”

  “What can I do to help?” Alexia asked.

  “The most difficult part. Convince Porter to let Rena turn herself in at the police station in Santee. The time it takes for them to process her will give me time to see what I can do. I’ll call you. As soon as Rena turns herself in, she will be subject to bond.”

  “And if Porter won’t cooperate?”

  “Rena is going to have a long ride to Mitchell County in the back of a patrol car. Do you really think that’s what Porter wants?”

  Alexia couldn’t guess the detective’s motivations. He might take perverse delight in hauling Rena two hundred miles so he could hear the door slam at an archaic jail.

  “I’ll try,” Alexia said doubtfully.

  “That’s all you can do.”

  “And if she isn’t at home?”