by Don Sawyer
Daffy began to laugh. “Stop!” he cried. “It’s too horrible to contemplate.” He laughed again. “But I’ll keep that image in mind, partner.”
That was on Thursday. Daffy had filed the affidavit the following morning. That afternoon Judge Cox had called in the lawyers for both sides. The Venam lawyers had already received the evidence. They asked for an adjournment to study the material. Cox adjourned the hearings for the weekend.
And now it was Monday morning.
As Stitch sat down he turned and scanned the crowd. He spotted Molly sitting near the door. She smiled at him and gave him a little wave. He waved back. Then he turned around to face the judge.
Daffy had been right. The lawyers for Venam were good. DeSoto even looked impressive. He wore shimmering black silk robes.
DeSoto took the lead. Smiling and looking ever so confident, he made a simple motion: Dismiss all of the new evidence as it was not relevant to the injunction.
“Your Lordship,” DeSoto said. “This material is all very interesting. But this is a hearing about a simple matter. Should my client, Venam Shopping Centres, be prohibited from beginning construction of its project in Mapleton? Keep in mind, Your Lordship, that this project has received approval from the federal Department of Fisheries and Oceans. It has been approved by the Ontario Ministry of the Environment. It has received zoning approval from the Mapleton City Council.”
DeSoto paused. His fierce gaze swept the gallery. “The real question is this: Should a bunch of radical environmentalists be allowed to stop a legitimate, productive company from carrying out its business.”
The room buzzed with angry muttering. People turned to each other, whispering and gesturing heatedly.
“Order!” Judge Cox shouted. “This is not a classroom! I will have order or I will clear the court!”
The noise subsided. Stitch could sense Daffy tense in front of him.
The judge sat back, still glowering at the crowd. Then he turned back to the Venam lawyers. He looked at DeSoto over the top of his spectacles. “That’s a pretty feeble argument, Counsel. This affidavit and the evidence provided are very compelling. On the surface at least, it strongly suggests zoning approval may have been obtained illegally. Motion dismissed.”
Stitch looked over to see DeSoto frown slightly. He walked back to his table and shuffled some papers. “In that case, Your Lordship, we would move to have Mr. Robinson examined on his affidavit.”
Stitch’s heart pounded. He glared at Daffy’s back. “Turn around you bastard,” Stitch muttered to himself. “You didn’t say anything about me testifying!”
Daffy stood. To Stitch’s astonishment, he said, “We have no objection, My Lord.”
Stitch got up angrily. He stalked through the gate and up to Daffy. “Maybe you don’t have any objection.” Stitch said through clenched teeth. “But I damn well do.”
“Mr. Robinson, please take the stand,” the court clerk called out.
Daffy shrugged. “I didn’t think they’d call you. Figured they wouldn’t want all of this out in the open.” Daffy put his big paw on Stitch’s shoulder soothingly. “Just tell them what happened. It’ll be fine.”
Stitch glared straight ahead. “Screw you,” he said.
“Mr. Robinson,” the judge ordered impatiently. “Please come to the front of the courtroom.”
Stitch made his way to the stand. The court clerk asked Stitch to state his full name.
“Samuel Ticknor Robinson,” Stitch replied.
Daffy looked at him, his eyes wide. “Samuel?” he asked silently.
“Better than Beatrice,” Stitch mouthed.
“Do you swear your testimony to be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?” the clerk asked.
“I do.”
Stitch sat down and faced Franklin DeSoto.
DeSoto kept a little smile on his face all the time he questioned Stitch. Stitch had seen that smile before. Mostly on gangsters who knew they were untouchable. On crooked businessmen who knew they’d never be prosecuted. On the faces of corrupt politicians too smart to be caught. It was a look of scorn. Of contempt. Stitch felt a strong urge to punch him in the mouth.
Most of the next half hour was simply a review of what Stitch had put in his statement. Stitch started to relax. He related the events as they occurred. He expanded on the events and conversations.
“Thank you, Mr. Robinson,” DeSoto said, turning toward his table. Stitch breathed deeply. It was just about over.
“Oh, just one last thing.” DeSoto turned back to Stitch. “I believe Ms. Anderson was a stripper, was she not? Performed under the name of Didi Rose?”
“That’s what I understand,” Stitch answered warily.
“The video tape of Ms. Anderson’s confession was very convincing. How did you get it?”
“I don’t understand the question.”
DeSoto walked up to Stitch. The smile had hardened on his face. There was a gleam in his ice blue eyes. “You don’t understand, Mr. Robinson? You seem like a pretty bright guy. I want to know how you got the confession.”
“It’s all in the affidavit,” Stitch began. “I heard her in the bank…”
“That is not what I mean,” DeSoto broke in. “You videoed her confession. Did she know she was being taped?”
Stitch squirmed. “Probably not, but that doesn’t mean what she said…”
“Just answer the question, Mr. Robinson,” the judge barked.
“I will repeat it. Did Ms. Anderson know her confession was being recorded?”
Stitch sat back in his chair. “No.”
“No, she did not,” DeSoto repeated. “And to get that confession, did you get her drunk?”
Stitch looked anxiously at Daffy. Daffy stood up. “Your Lordship, that requires knowledge Mr. Robinson does not have. Sharing a drink is not the same as getting someone drunk.”
Cox stared straight ahead. “True. But the circumstances under which Mr. Robinson obtained the statement are relevant to the case. You can continue, Mr. DeSoto.”
“Thank you, Your Lordship.” He turned back to Stitch. “In the video we see a bottle of whisky on the table. Johnny Walker Blue, I believe?”
Stitch nodded.
“Please speak up, Mr. Robinson,” the judge ordered
“Yes, that’s right,” Stitch said.
“How much of that was left by the end of the night?”
“About an inch.”
“I see. That means that the two of you drank almost all of a 750 ml bottle of scotch.” DeSoto looked at the judge. “Is that what happened, Mr. Robinson. Did you split nearly an entire bottle of scotch?”
“Yes, but that was over…”
“Thank, you, Mr. Robinson,” DeSoto interrupted. “That would mean that each of you consumed about 350 ml of scotch. That is about 12 ounces of alcohol, or almost 10 drinks.”
Stitch watched DeSoto’s face intently. He heard the crowd rustle in their seats.
“Ms. Anderson, I believe, weighs about 115 pounds, Mr. Robinson?
“Something like that.”
“That would put Ms. Anderson’s blood alcohol content at over .4.”
Daffy shot to his feet. “Objection. Counsel is misleading the court. Mr. DeSoto knows from the video that the alcohol was consumed over a period of three hours.”
DeSoto tugged at the front of his robes. “Very well. I will rephrase my statement. By the end of the evening, Ms Anderson’s blood alcohol level would have been in excess of .2. This would have made it illegal for her to be behind the wheel of a car. Do you agree, Mr. Robinson?”
“That is probably the case.”
DeSoto paused. “So I will ask you once more, Mr. Robinson. Was Ms. Anderson drunk by the end of the evening?”
Stitch looked DeSoto directly in the eyes. He held his stare for a long moment. “Ms. Anderson did not appear drunk to me. We consumed the alcohol over the period of several hours. And I assure you, I did my part.”
The spectators tittered. Judge Cox glared ominously at them.
“At no time did she slur her words,” Stitch continued. “As you must have seen on the video. Her statement was clear, concise and unequivocal.”
DeSoto’s smile slipped a bit. He nodded. “One last thing, Mr. Robinson. It appears that your intent was to have Ms. Anderson drink enough alcohol to lose her inhibitions. And as a result she gave you her confession.” He paused and looked down at some notes in his hand. “And she did lose her inhibitions, didn’t she?”
Stitch said nothing.
DeSoto raised his head and looked at Stitch. “Did you have sex with Ms. Anderson the night you taped her confession?”
Stitch’s heart thumped in his chest. His gaze swept over the room until he found Molly. Her eyes had gone wide. She stared at him in shock.
“Your Lordship,” Daffy exploded. “This is totally irrelevant. Mr. Robinson’s sex life is not at issue here.”
Cox looked over his glasses at Daffy. “Perhaps not, Mr. Abbott. But how Mr. Robinson obtained the confession is at issue. Please answer the question, Mr. Robinson.”
Stitch sat upright in the chair. He squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. Then he looked directly at Molly. “Yes. I did.”
DeSoto smiled smugly. “Thank you, Mr. Robinson. That’s all.”
Stitch slumped in his chair.
Cox glared out from behind his bench. “Counsellors, do you have further individuals you wish to call for questioning?”
“No, Your Lordship.” Daffy and DeSoto said in unison.
The judge rose from behind his bench. “In that case, there will be a three-hour recess. We will resume at 2:00.” He looked at Daffy. “Counsellors should be prepared to make their final submission after recess.” Daffy nodded dispiritedly.
The crowd moved out of the courtroom. They murmured and pointed at Stitch.
Stitch finally stood up and walked over to Daffy. “That went well.”
Daffy snorted.
“How bad is it?” Stitch continued.
Daffy shrugged. “They have nothing. So all they can do is try to smear the messenger. That’s you. And call into question the reliability of the witness.”
“That’s Didi. Well, did they do it?”
Daffy shrugged again. “Theatrically, yes. Legally, I don’t think so. Come on. Let’s get some lunch.”
The walked up the aisle and through the heavy double doors that led to the lobby. Molly lunged across the hall just as Stitch and Daffy emerged from the courtroom. She blocked Stitch’s way.
“You bastard,” Molly said angrily. She leaned forward into Stitch’s face. Her hands were clenched into fists at her hips. “I thought you were different.”
Stitch looked at her miserably. He raised both hands pleadingly. “Molly, I’m sorry. Listen, I can explain!”
Molly was shaking with fury. “The only explanation is that you’re a man,” she hissed. “And a sorry excuse for one at that.”
She whirled around and stalked down the hall toward the exit door. She turned around suddenly. “And don’t bother sending me a bill,” she yelled. “It’ll be a cold day in hell when you get a cent from me!”
Stitch closed his eyes and leaned against a wall. “Ah,” he muttered. “A great ending to a great morning.”
CHAPTER 18
Decisions
Stitch slouched in his chair in the courtroom as people began trickling back in from the recess. How had things gone so wrong? He really liked Molly. There seemed to be something there. But now he’d screwed that up. He had broken a major murder and money laundering case. But Venam’s greasy lawyers made it sound like he was the villain. And now, despite everything, Daffy could even lose the injunction.
He stared at the empty judge’s bench in front of him. Suddenly Daffy punched him on the shoulder and sat down beside him.
“Shouldn’t you be down at your table? Figuring out how to save this mess or something?” Stitch grumbled.
Daffy grinned. “Lighten up, partner. All is not lost.”
Stitch looked up at Daffy gloomily. “That’s the best news I’ve heard today. What’s up?”
“I did a little research on Judge Cox.”
Stitch stared back at the judge’s bench in front of him. “How depressing.”
“Not really,” Daffy continued. “He’s a corporate guy, yeah. But in his youth he was a Crown prosecutor.”
Stitch glanced at Daffy. “He prosecuted bad guys?”
“Yeah. Pretty effectively, too. Our Judge Cox does not like criminals.”
“So what does that mean for us?”
Daffy shrugged. “We’ll see.” He motioned to the front of the court. DeSoto was making his way across the front of the courtroom. “Gotta go. Wish me luck.”
“Luck,” Stitch said half-heartedly.
Daffy made his way to his seat. The door to the judge’s chamber opened. Judge Cox walked toward the bench. “All rise!” the clerk called out.
The courtroom rustled as everyone rose. The judge in his black gown moved quickly to his chair behind the bench. The court sat down.
Judge Cox adjusted his glasses. He opened a file on his desk. He looked at the lawyers for Venam. “Mr. DeSoto.”
DeSoto stood. “Thank you, My Lord.” The next half hour was one of the longest in Stitch’s life. DeSoto tore Stitch to shreds. According to him, Didi’s confession was nothing more than drunken babbling. Stitch was a manipulative cad who had taken advantage of her. His only interest was in raising his profile as a private detective. He was helping environmental extremists restrict legitimate business. The evidence he had provided was untrustworthy. It had been filmed without Didi knowing she was being recorded. And only after Stitch had intentionally and systematically gotten her drunk.
Stitch stared at DeSoto during his entire address. He had met lots of vile people in his line of work. But he could not remember loathing any of them like he loathed DeSoto. DeSoto seemed to almost feel the hatred. When he caught Stitch’s eyes, he looked away quickly.
When DeSoto was finally done, Judge Cox turned to Daffy. Even sitting behind him, Stitch thought he heard Daffy hold his breath.
“Mr. Abbott, I will not need to hear from you.”
Stitch looked at Daffy in panic. But then Daffy turned his head and looked briefly at Stitch. He could see a broad smile spread across Daffy’s face.
Stitch leaned over the railing. “What are you smiling at?” Stitch hissed at Daffy. “That doesn’t sound good.”
Daffy didn’t turn around. “Just wait.”
The Judge adjusted his glasses again. Then he stared out over the courtroom.
“This hearing is about a straightforward matter. Should an injunction to stop Venam Shopping Centres from building on the Farley’s Bog site be revoked? Unfortunately, as is often the case, there is nothing simple about the issue.”
The judge paused and looked around the room. “Whatever our views are on the injunction itself, we are faced with compelling evidence of criminal activity. First, that a city councillor who cast the deciding vote to rezone the building site was bribed. And second that he was later murdered so he could not testify.”
There was a rustle in the courtroom.
“We also have evidence that Venam is involved in a money laundering scheme. It is not the responsibility or desire of this court to decide on these matters. All of this information is now in the hands of the RCMP.”
Stitch saw DeSoto lean over and whisper to an associate. He was no longer smirking.
The judge nodded toward DeSoto. �
��Counsel has done an admirable job of questioning the evidence at hand. The RCMP and future trials will determine its validity and admissibility. However, my job is to decide on this one issue: Should the injunction be lifted?”
The courtroom was silent.
“The affidavit and supporting evidence make a prima facie case that the rezoning decision by the Mapleton City Council was achieved fraudulently. It appears to have been obtained through criminal means. The evidence strongly suggests that the developer bribed and blackmailed a councillor to secure their desired outcome. This sort of criminal behaviour cannot be tolerated in a society based on law and justice. I hereby deny the request to overturn the injunction. The injunction still stands on an interim basis.”
The courtroom burst into cheers. People jumped up and hugged each other.
Judge Cox leapt up from behind the bench. “That is enough!” he roared. People quieted. “This is not a political rally,” he scolded. “You will have respect for this courtroom or I will charge you with contempt!”
People sat down sheepishly, broad smiles on their faces. Across from Stitch, the Venam lawyers quietly picked up their papers. They stuffed them into their briefcases and filed out. As DeSoto passed, Stitch caught his eye and smiled. “Asshole,” he murmured quietly.
“Do you always drink a double double?” Stitch asked. He pointed with his chin at Daffy’s coffee. They were sitting at the Tim Hortons two days after the injunction had been granted. “Isn’t one cream and one sugar enough?”
“What’s it to you?” Daffy asked defensively.
“I’m just concerned about your weight, Daf. You’re not getting any slimmer.”
Daffy reached over and tousled Stitch’s hair. “Hey, you’re the ladies’ man. Gallivanting around with strippers. I have a long-time girlfriend. She loves me as I am.”
Stitch winced. “That was a low blow.”