Within fifteen minutes we’re at the meat of what I’m here to say. I talk about the day that Stynes came into my office, describing my attorney-client privilege dilemma, my subsequent decision to defend Oscar, and my sending Laurie out to the stadium to retrieve what I thought were Stynes’s clothes.
“Did you ever see Stynes again?” Kevin asks.
I nod, and for the first time I’m in danger of losing my focus and becoming emotional. “I asked a young man to help me find Alex Dorsey. His name was Barry Leiter, and when it was discovered that he was helping me, Stynes shot him to death in his home. The police killed Stynes on the scene, but it was too late to help Barry.”
After a few more questions Kevin and I make eye contact, and I can tell that we both feel we’ve covered the facts that we wanted the jury to hear. He sits down and lets Dylan have a shot at me.
“Mr. Carpenter,” he begins, “did anyone else hear Stynes’s confession to you?”
“No.”
“Had you ever met him before?”
“No, I had not.”
“Was he referred to you by someone?”
“No.”
“So out of the blue he came into your office and told you a story, which you are now telling the jury. A story which just happens to argue against your client’s guilt. Your lover’s guilt. Is that what you’re telling us?”
“Yes. That’s what I’m telling you.”
“This is a woman you want to spend the rest of your life with?”
Kevin objects as to relevancy, but Hatchet lets me answer.
“I certainly do.”
“And that would be difficult if she were in prison?” he asks.
“It would. Which makes me glad the truth is on her side.”
Dylan objects, and he and Kevin fight it out for a while in a bench conference. When it concludes, Dylan veers off from this area and focuses on my involvement with Oscar Garcia. His contention is that I was less than zealous in my representation of Oscar, questioning me about my inability to uncover the bank tapes in the supermarket. The clear implication is I was throwing Oscar to the wolves to make sure Laurie stayed in the clear.
Dylan asks, “If Mr. Garcia had been convicted, then Ms. Collins would likely not have been charged. Isn’t that true?”
“I can’t answer that. You’re the one who charges people without regard to the facts, so you might want to testify after I do.”
The jury laughs, which pleases me but infuriates Dylan. We spar for a little while longer, but he seems even happier to finally let me off the stand than I am to get off.
The testimony went very well. We got out the story about Stynes without having to reveal what we know about his military connection to Dorsey, even without revealing that his real name is Cahill. The less of this that comes out before Hobbs takes the stand, the better. That’s if we can get Hobbs to take the stand.
Tomorrow will be the key to the entire trial, and Kevin and I go over our approach until past midnight. Marcus calls to report that the subpoenas have been served and that Hobbs was furious to receive one. Marcus served that one personally. He thought the level of Hobbs’s anger was pretty funny; the fact that Hobbs might well be a Green Beret killing machine did not intimidate him. If I ever meet someone who intimidates Marcus, I am going to be very afraid of that person.
Simply put, we have to make Hobbs look bad on the stand. So bad that suspicion gets cast on him and away from Laurie. We cannot prove that he murdered anyone, but we can prove some other facts, and the trick will be to get him to perjure himself by denying those facts. It’s risky; if he detects our strategy, he can just admit to the facts and explain them away with minimal embarrassment. That would be it for our defense.
Which means that would be it for Laurie.
DYLAN HAS SMOKE COMING OUT OF HIS EARS when I arrive in court. He has been confronted by a roomful of potential witnesses that we have subpoenaed, none of whom were on our witness list. Which means he has not prepared for any of them.
Those witnesses consist of four members of the Paterson Police Department, including Pete Stanton, as well as three FBI agents. Two of those agents are Darrin Hobbs, who is angry at the imposition, and Cindy Spodek, who is secretly privy to our scheme and nervous about her crucial role in it.
Before the jury is called in, Dylan objects to the witnesses’ appearance, based on our not having put them on our list, and also based on relevance. Hatchet agrees to hear argument on the matter, and I suggest that we might as well let the witnesses be in the courtroom to hear the argument themselves, as well as each other’s subsequent testimony, should it be admitted. Dylan agrees, as I hoped and expected he would.
If we don’t get these witnesses in, we are dead in the water. “Your Honor,” I say, “these people were not included on our witness list because they are rebuttal witnesses, called to rebut the specific testimony of Captain Franks.”
Hatchet is properly suspicious of my motivation here, since this is clearly overkill to rebut a relatively innocuous witness like Franks. “I didn’t realize Captain Franks was that powerful a witness, nor that significant a part of this case,” he observes dryly.
“Respectfully, Your Honor, I disagree. He portrayed Lieutenant Dorsey as cut down in the prime of life just before reaching sainthood. I believe these witnesses will paint a truer picture, and it is important for the jury to hear that truth.”
“This is a delaying tactic, Your Honor,” Dylan argues. “As well as an attempt to muddy the water and blame the victim. I urge you not to allow it.”
I jump in before Hatchet can say anything negative to our side; this is not an issue I can be passive about. “Your Honor, it is entirely possible that all of these witnesses will not be necessary. And if you determine that I am not eliciting significant and relevant facts, you can stop me in my tracks with a ruling.”
Hatchet stares another hole through my forehead. “Are you saying you will abide by my future rulings? Is that your idea of a concession?”
He’s caught me; I can’t help smiling. “No, Your Honor. I am saying that you will find I would never waste the court’s time.”
Hatchet lets the witnesses testify, putting me on a short leash by announcing he will not let this drag out if he feels it’s repetitive. He also takes pains to confirm that I am not using Hobbs’s presence as a backdoor attempt to get in the FBI report that he has already ruled out. I feign horror at even the prospect of it.
I do have another request of Hatchet. “Your Honor, if we call Special Agent Hobbs, I would like to qualify him as an adverse witness. He has been antagonistic toward the defense throughout these proceedings.”
Qualifying a witness as adverse, or hostile, allows me to question him as if it were a cross-examination, giving me the leeway to ask leading questions. At this point the request does not seem to be a big deal to Hatchet or Dylan, and it is granted without objection. Satisfied that I’ve gotten what I need, I call FBI agent Albert Connolly.
Connolly had been mentioned in the FBI report as one of the agents involved in the surveillance of Petrone’s people and therefore of Dorsey. There is really nothing I want to get from Connolly; I am merely questioning him so that Hobbs will not realize that he is being targeted. When Hobbs is asked the same questions that he has heard asked of Connolly, he will be less likely to realize that we are laying a trap.
So, with Hobbs and Cindy Spodek watching from the gallery, I have Connolly identify himself and describe his role in the Petrone investigation.
With a glance at Hatchet, I tell Connolly, “I am not interested in the details of your investigation. I am simply trying to get your knowledge and impressions of Lieutenant Dorsey. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” he says.
“Good. Had you known or had any contact with Lieutenant Dorsey before you encountered him on this investigation?”
“No, I had not.”
“Did you have occasion to have any direct conversations with him during the invest
igation?”
“No.”
I take him through his observations of Dorsey during this investigation. My questions are brief and designed to elicit quick responses, since there is a very real danger that Hatchet will intervene.
Connolly says that he really hadn’t had much occasion to watch Dorsey, nor had he had much knowledge of his activities. Clearly, Dorsey was involved with members of organized crime, in ways that his police bosses would not have approved.
“Are you familiar with a man named Roger Cahill, who also goes by the name Geoffrey Stynes?”
“I am not.”
I let Connolly off the stand, and Dylan does not cross-examine. Instead, he calls for a bench conference, during which he again asks Hatchet to stop “this unproductive waste of the court’s time.” Since it is out of earshot of Hobbs, I promise that I will not call four of the seven witnesses I brought in today and will end the parade after only two more, Agents Hobbs and Spodek. Hatchet accepts the compromise, and I call Darrin Hobbs to the stand.
I can count on zero fingers the number of times I’ve seen witnesses knowingly make self-incriminating statements. I would love trials to be like the one in A Few Good Men. I could get Jack Nicholson on the stand so he can scream, “You can’t handle the truth!” at me and then, in a rage, admit his own guilt. But I never get that lucky, and I’m not going to get that lucky with Hobbs. He will incriminate himself only if he doesn’t believe he is doing so; he will expose himself to danger only if he is unaware that the danger exists.
“Good morning, Agent Hobbs.”
“Good morning.”
“As I told Agent Connolly, I am not interested in the details of your investigation. I am simply trying to get your knowledge and impressions of Lieutenant Dorsey. Do you understand?”
“I do.”
“You were in charge of the investigation which included Lieutenant Dorsey. Is that correct?”
“He was a peripheral figure.”
“I understand. Had you known or had any contact with Lieutenant Dorsey before you encountered him on this investigation?”
Hobbs doesn’t even flinch; the son of a bitch lies through his teeth. “No, I had not.”
“Did you have occasion to have any direct conversations with him during the investigation?”
“No.”
“How about since then?”
“No.”
As with Connolly, I ask Hobbs a few quick questions about Dorsey’s activities during the investigation. My final question is, “Are you familiar with a man named Roger Cahill, who also goes by the name Geoffrey Stynes?”
“No, I am not. Other than what you’ve told me and I’ve read in the paper.”
“Thank you,” I say. “No further questions.” I want to add, “I’ve got you, you son of a bitch,” but I control the impulse.
Dylan again declines to cross-examine, and I surprise him and Hobbs by asking Hatchet to keep Hobbs present and available for recall this morning. I can see a flash of worry across Hobbs’s face, but he still has no real idea of the hole he has just dug for himself.
“Call Cindy Spodek.”
Cindy rises and walks to the witness stand, passing Hobbs on the way and staring him right in the eyes. If he didn’t know he was in trouble before, he should now.
“Agent Spodek,” I begin, “who is your immediate superior at the FBI?”
“Special Agent Darrin Hobbs.”
“The man who preceded you to the stand?”
“Yes.”
“Were you present in the courtroom during his testimony?”
“Yes, I was.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Hobbs alert, listening intently. “Did you listen to Special Agent Hobbs’s testimony in its entirety?”
“I did.”
“To your knowledge, was he being truthful?”
“He was not.”
Dylan and Hobbs simultaneously jump to their feet. When Dylan gets there, he screams an objection. When Hobbs gets there, he has no idea what to do, so he looks around, a puzzled expression on his face, and sits back down.
Hatchet calls us over for a bench conference to discuss Dylan’s objection. Dylan is steaming, and once the jury cannot hear us, he lets loose. “Your Honor, Carpenter is making a mockery of this courtroom.”
Starting a conversation with Hatchet by telling him that his courtroom is a mockery is not a shrewd strategy. He didn’t get the name Hatchet by treating lawyers with kid gloves, and it’s possible we could have another beheading on our hands. I just stand there, well behaved and totally innocent.
Dylan realizes in an instant what he’s said, and he backtracks. “I apologize, Your Honor, but these tactics are truly reprehensible.”
“Which tactics do you mean, Dylan?” I ask with a voice as sweet as sugar.
Dylan is not about to be drawn into a conversation with me; he speaks only to Hatchet. “Your Honor, the defense called Agent Hobbs under false pretenses.”
“Which pretenses do you mean, Dylan?” I purr.
Hatchet now turns his glare on me. “I would say it’s time you announced where this is going, before I stop you from going there.”
I nod. “Your Honor, I said I would question these witnesses, including Hobbs, about their knowledge of Dorsey. I did that. I admit I suspected Hobbs would lie, but I couldn’t know that for sure until he did. Those lies, as I will demonstrate, bear directly and crucially on this case.”
“He’s impeaching his own witness,” Dylan complains.
“My own adverse witness.”
I know for a fact that Hatchet is annoyed with me. He feels I manipulated the court for my own ends, and in fact I did. But I didn’t lie, and there’s no legal reason for him to prohibit me from going forward.
“Mr. Carpenter, I’m going to allow you to proceed, but be very careful. If I sense you are being dishonest with this court, you will find yourself in very unhappy circumstances.”
“Yes, Your Honor, I understand.”
I prepare to resume questioning Cindy, who has sat stoically on the witness stand, no doubt watching her career flashing before her. Hobbs has been staring at her, trying to intimidate her. Not a chance.
“Agent Spodek, you said that Special Agent Hobbs was being untruthful in his testimony.”
“He was lying, yes.”
“Which part was a lie?”
“Almost everything after he gave his name.”
The jury laughs, but Spodek doesn’t crack a smile. This is one tough lady.
“I’m paraphrasing, but Special Agent Hobbs claimed never to have had contact with Lieutenant Dorsey. Was that a true statement?”
“No. I witnessed their meeting at least half a dozen times.”
“How did that come about?”
“Usually, we were out in the car, working on a case, and we would stop at an apparently prearranged location. Lieutenant Dorsey would be there, and they would talk.”
“Did you hear any of the conversations?”
She nods. “Parts of two of them.”
“What were they about?”
“They were discussions of Lieutenant Dorsey’s activities with certain criminal figures. About protecting Lieutenant Dorsey from prosecution by the local authorities.”
“Lieutenant Dorsey was worried about that?” I ask.
“Very worried.”
I steal a glance at Hobbs, who looks like a newcomer to acting class who has just been instructed by the teacher to “show outrage.” The funny thing is, he thinks this is the worst part. Just wait.
“Agent Hobbs also said he did not know Roger Cahill. Was that a lie as well?”
“Absolutely.” She goes on to describe two meetings that he had with Cahill, though she hadn’t known his name until she saw his picture in the paper after Barry’s murder. It was a major reason she called me about Murdoch, another man whom she knew Hobbs was meeting with before he was sent to prison.
I take her through some more discussion about Hob
bs’s perjured testimony, then ask her if she knows anything about the original 911 call that implicated Garcia in the murder.
“Yes,” she says. “I made that call.”
“Why?”
“Agent Hobbs instructed me to. He said that he had information that Garcia was guilty but that he didn’t want to involve the Bureau.”
“Do you know why he didn’t make the call himself?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Could it be that he wanted the call to come from a woman so that the prosecution would accuse the defendant of making it?”
Dylan objects, and Hatchet sustains. I tell Hatchet I want to recall Hobbs, and Dylan reserves his cross-examination of Cindy until after Hobbs is finished. Dylan is smart enough to know he is walking into a minefield, and he’s hoping Hobbs will at least provide him with a map.
Hobbs takes the stand again, a considerably less confident and self-assured man than he was last time he was there.
“Agent Hobbs,” I begin, “I take it you listened carefully to the testimony of Agent Spodek?”
“Yes.”
“Do you wish to change your previous testimony as a result of it?”
“I do not.”
“So would it be fair to say that your position is that Agent Spodek was herself being untruthful?”
“She was lying through her teeth.”
“Do you have any idea why she would do that?”
“Agent Spodek is a bitter woman of very low competence. I have been considering recommending her termination from the Bureau. I suspect she is aware of that and has taken what amounts to a preemptive strike against me.”
“So she is lying and you’re not?”
He nods. “She is lying and I’m not.”
“You did not know either Alex Dorsey or Roger Cahill?”
“I did not.”
At that moment, by prearrangement, Captain Reid, dressed in military uniform, enters the courtroom. He goes to Kevin, whispers something, and hands him a piece of paper. Kevin looks at it, smiles, and indicates for Captain Reid to sit with the other witnesses. Then Kevin walks over to me and pretends to whisper in my ear. Hobbs watches all of this take place with barely concealed horror.
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