Judge and Jury

by William Bernhardt

  He did an about face. A woman beckoned in the darkness. Dirty hair. Dark circles around the eyes. Paper-thin. “You lookin’ for someone?”

  “I sure am.” He took a cautious step closer. She sported a buzzcut and a military fatigue shirt five sizes too big. She was supermodel thin but not in a healthy or attractive way. She had a large scab or sore on the left side of her chin. “Can you help me?”

  She hunched forward and waved, as if she feared she might be observed by the secret police. “Come over to my place. We can talk there.”

  He followed. She pushed a large piece of plywood to the side—her makeshift door. Beyond it, he saw her three-foot stretch of paradise. Knickknacks and fake flowers tacked to a board. A Snoopy toy. Several candles, none lit.

  “My name’s Mandy,” she explained.

  “Dan.” He almost offered her a hand, then stifled the instinct. He had heard the homeless were skittish about being touched, and after the coronavirus scare, they weren’t alone.

  “Nice place,” he said, and all things considered, he meant it. “Been here long?”

  “’Bout a year.” She sat on a large pillow on the ground and offered him the same. “Used to be on the streets. This is better.”

  “I can see that. It’s more private. But I hear it’s going to rain.”

  “Always survived so far. That’s what we Mole People do.”

  “Mole People?”

  “That’s what the cops call us. ‘Cause we live underground.”

  “A big rain could wipe out this nice place you’ve got.”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time.” She was somewhat difficult to understand. He wasn’t sure if that was because she was unaccustomed to talking out loud, or because drugs had addled the language centers of her brain.

  “Must be a lot of crime down here.”

  “Yeah. But not from the Mole People. We don’t steal from each other. But kids come down and cause trouble. Nothin’ better to do. So they steal from us, then go back to their Snell Isle mansions. They do most of the graffiti you see on the walls.”

  “Not the Mole People?”

  “Why would we do that to our homes?”

  Valid point.

  “Worst is, someone reports the crime, the neighbors blame us Mole People, then the cops hassle us, try to make us move out. Just to please those rich SOBs who don’t have to worry about what they’re going to eat tomorrow. Or if they’re going to eat tomorrow.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Mandy smiled. “Nothing else, least a good rain will get me a little clean. I haven’t had a shower in years.”

  “Seriously?”

  “And that was at some shelter where I could only stay two days. I tell you—the last time I felt an honest-to-God shower pouring down on me—I cried.”

  Dan closed his eyes tightly shut. He was afraid he was going to start crying himself. “Where did you live before...the streets?”

  “Oh, I had me a little apartment downtown. Tiny. But it had a bed. Then I got in with this guy. He said he’d take care of me, but all he really did was get me hooked on that crystal meth. And that...” She waved her arm around the small area. “...led to this.”

  He nodded.

  Her voice dropped to less than a whisper. “Had me a little dog once, too. But I lost him.” She reached up and took down the Snoopy figurine. “Now I got this.”

  “I’m...sorry.”

  “He got a hot shot.”

  “A...what?”

  “Poisoned. Bad food.” She sniffed. “Don’t matter. This is no place for a puppy.”

  “No.”

  “Some days I think I’m going to get heatstroke. Other days I think I’m going to drown. No good any way you go.” She looked up and tried to smile. “Did I hear you were looking for your sister?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Bout your age?”

  “A little older.”

  “She got a name?”

  “Yeah. I don’t know what she might be calling herself, but her birth name was Dinah.”

  “Dinah? Like, Dinah blow your horn?”

  “That’s right.”

  Mandy shook her head. “Curiouser and curiouser.”

  His eyes widened like balloons. That was one of the most famous lines from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, his mother’s favorite book. The reason she undoubtedly named her daughter Dinah. “What makes you...use those words?”

  “That’s what she used to say. All the time.”

  “Who?”

  “Dinah.”

  “You know my sister?”

  “I knew a gal named Dinah. Lived here in this tunnel for a while.”

  “What did she look like?”

  Mandy shrugged. “Big eyes. Brown hair. Thin.” She peered at him for a moment. “You know, I think she favors you a bit. You got the same eyes.”

  He felt his lips tremble. “Those are my mother’s eyes.”

  Mandy’s expression turned hard. “What’d you do to her? Why’d she have to run off?”

  “I didn’t do anything. Truth is, I’ve never met her. At least not that I recall.”

  “You never met your own sister?”

  “I didn’t even know I had a sister until...recently. Even now I don’t know the details. But my friend found the doctor who delivered her, and he thought she might’ve...had some bad experiences. And become homeless. Do you know where she is?”

  She gave him a quick up and down. “You got money, don’t you?”

  “I...do.”

  “Lots of it.”

  “Enough to take care of my sister.”

  “And maybe a finder’s fee for old Mandy?”

  Old Mandy who was probably in her mid-thirties. “I would be very grateful. Among other things...I could find you a place to live.”

  “I got a place to live.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  She nodded, and all at once her eyes got watery. “You can’t go back in time.”

  “But you can build a future.”

  “I don’t need no fancy home but...I do miss that dog of mine.”

  “We’ll go to the kennel. Get you the best rescue dog that ever was. And a collar and vet and shots and everything else.”

  “And some food. Safe food?”

  His voice choked. “Mandy, if you help me find my sister, I will personally come by here and feed that dog every damn day for the rest of my life.”

  She nodded slowly. “I believe you. You’re one of the good ones, Dan.”

  “I try.”

  “Where were you when I was just a kid?”

  He refrained from mentioning that they were probably more or less the same age. “Too wrapped up in myself to be good for anyone else. You wouldn’t’ve liked me.”

  “I don’t know. You’re pretty cute.”

  He cleared his throat. “So where’s Dinah?”

  Mandy drew in her breath. “She lived here for a time, but then she got wrong-ways with some cop. He kept coming around, bugging her. I think he wanted what she had, if you know what I mean. Your sister’s a cutie. Even in bad shape, she’s the type of gal who catches a man’s eye.”

  His face hardened. “What did this cop do?”

  “Kept getting fresh. Touching her. Wouldn’t let her be. Finally she said she was leaving.”

  “She didn’t tell anyone?”

  “Like who? The cops? The cops were the problem. They usually are, for folks like us. No one was gonna help her against one of their own.”

  “Where did she go?”

  “Well, I didn’t follow here or anything, but I know what she said.”

  “And...?”

  Mandy drew in her breath. “She said she was going to Wal-Mart.”

  He blinked twice. “For...groceries?”

  “Nah. To live. They let folks like us spend the night in the parking lot. I prefer to be a Mole Person myself, but a pretty thing like here should be out and about.”

  “Do you know which Walmart? Ther
e are several in town.”

  “Sorry. I’m not much of a shopper.”

  “Right.” He pushed off the pillow, the checked his watch. He needed to get at least a few hours of sleep before the trial resumed. “I’ll get on it tomorrow. Right after sunset.”

  “You tell her I said hello, ok? I liked that girl.”

  “If I find her, I’ll tell her. And—” He wanted to give Mandy a hug, but he restrained himself. “I can’t tell you how much this means to me. You’ve helped me so much.”

  “So Old Mandy was able to help out a fancy Dan like you. This is a strange world. Hey, did I hear you say you’re a lawyer?”

  “You did.”

  “You talk to judges and them folk?”

  “Constantly.”

  “If you get a chance...tell them about us, would you? I think most people don’t have any idea. They rush past every day on their way to something else. Tell them our story. The world already pushed us out into the tunnels and sewers. Don’t let them forget about us.”

  Chapter 30

  Dan knew the defendants would call Bradley Ellison. He was in many respects their star witness, even more important than Sweeney himself, at least on the issue of whether Dan’s father was wrongfully convicted.

  Ellison seemed cool and collected, but perhaps not in the best shape ever. Maybe Dan was imagining it, but Ellison seemed somewhat less assured than he had at the deposition. Dan also noticed that he was perpetually looking at Sweeney, as if checking for approval.

  Caldwell called Ellison to the witness stand. Despite his age, he seemed alert and articulate, even forthcoming. Slowly, she took him through his years of experience, both as a police officer and later as a private investigator. Whether you believed him or didn’t, there was no question about the fact that he had put in his time.

  About ten minutes later, Caldwell got him to the night in question, the harrowing shootout at the basketball court when Jack Fisher was killed. Ellison did an excellent job of describing the scene without excessive dramaturgy. He didn’t need to overdo it. Actually, the scene was probably all the more harrowing because he downplayed it. The jury got no sense that he was playing for sympathy. Instead, they got a just-the-facts recitation from a man who had been through a lot and lived to talk about it.

  “Sir,” Caldwell said, “let me put the question to you bluntly. Did you see who shot Jack Fisher?”

  “I did.”

  “And who was that?”

  “Ehtan Pike. The plaintiff’s father.”

  “That was a tumultuous, chaotic scene. Is there any question in your mind about what happened?”

  “None whatsoever. I saw Ethan pull the trigger. I saw Jack fall.”

  “And did you report what you’d seen?”

  “Immediately. I understood why Ethan did it. I didn’t like Jack much myself, frankly. But he was a fellow officer and we have to put that first. We can never condone murder. Never.”

  “Of course not. Pass the witness.”

  Maria stood and moved closer to the witness.

  “This is not the first time you’ve been involved in a case with my client, is it?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “You were both involved in the Ossie Coleman case, right? Dan represented him in his suit to establish his identity, and then later defended him on a bogus murder charge.”

  “That is correct.”

  “What was your involvement?”

  “I was hired to investigate the kid.”

  “And it was the defendant, Conrad Sweeney, who hired you.”

  “No, ma’am. You’re mistaken. I was hired by the Coleman family.”

  “At Sweeney’s recommendation.”

  “I believe they may have discussed the matter. They were friends and business partners.”

  “You have worked for the Conrad Sweeney on several occasions.”

  “True.”

  “He’s been a source of income for you during your retirement years.”

  “If you’re suggesting—”

  “I’m not suggesting anything, Mr. Ellison, and I would prefer it if you did not either. We can let the jury draw their own conclusions from the facts.”

  Ellison clammed up. Score one for Maria.

  She continued. “Please describe your interaction with my client during the Coleman case.”

  “We spoke on one occasion. I knew he was Ethan’s son and he knew that my testimony put his daddy away, so you can imagine the tension. But he held his temper in check.”

  This non-compliment, of course, assumed Dan had a temper he had to control.

  “Did you threaten him?”

  “Absolutely not. I warned him against crossing Dr. Sweeney, but that’s not a threat. That’s just common sense. If the boy had listened to me we wouldn’t be in this courtroom right now. Instead, he went looking for trouble and, big surprise, he found some.”

  “Motion to strike the last non-relevant part of the witness’s response,” Maria said.

  Judge Fernandez nodded. “That will be granted.”

  “The fact is, you didn’t solve the Coleman case, correct? Dan did.”

  “I would have to agree with that. Of course, he had the benefit of my investigation, which helped him reach the ultimate solution.”

  “And did his success in that case persuade you that he was a more respectable citizen than your employer Sweeney wants the world to believe?”

  Ellison craned his neck. “I’m...not sure I can go that far.”

  “But you said—”

  “I’ll give your man credit for cracking the case. I was impressed. But when I found out about all his connections to organized crime and cartels—”

  “Objection!”

  Caldwell sprang up. “She opened the door, your honor. She asked about the witness’s opinion of her client.”

  “Have to agree with that,” the judge said. “The witness may continue.”

  He did. “When I learned that time after time your client was either involved with or had detailed knowledge about the activities of this cartel, I saw things in a different light. It’s a lot easier to solve cases when you have inside information. And I had to wonder what the large-scale scheme was. Cartels don’t let rats talk about their business—unless they have a good reason.”

  “Again I object,” Maria said. She looked worried. Opening this door had been an error and now she was paying for it. “The witness has no personal knowledge of any involvement with cartels.”

  “I never claimed I did,” Ellison insisted. “I just note that, time after time, Daniel Pike seems to have valuable pieces of information about these criminals that no one else has. Not even the police.”

  The judge nodded. “I’m going to let the witness’s testimony stand. Do you have anything else, counselor?”

  “Yes, your honor. You mentioned that Jack Fisher was in the car parked next to yours. Was he alone?”

  Ellison peered at her for a moment. “I’m not sure I follow.”

  “You had a partner with you. Ethan Pike had his partner. Who was with Jack?”

  It was barely perceptible, but Ellison’s eyes darted to Sweeney before he answered. “I—I don’t remember.”

  “Seriously? Your memory seems crystal clear on everything else. Like it just happened yesterday. Who was riding shotgun with Jack?”

  “I...would assume it was his partner.”

  “And that would be Beth Kramer, right?”

  “Uh, yes. That’s right.”

  “Funny thing, though. We’ve spoken to Ms. Kramer. She says she wasn’t there.”

  Dan didn’t need superpowers to see that Ellison was disturbed. Was he surprised to hear this? Or was it something else?

  “Then I guess she wasn’t. I know Beth. She’s a square-shooter.”

  “Why wouldn’t Jack’s partner be with him?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Wouldn’t that be standard practice?”

  “Yes. Perhaps someone else was assigne
d.”

  “Do you know who that would be?”

  “No.”

  Maria took a step closer, positioning herself between Ellison and Sweeney, blocking his view. “You’re going to tell this jury that you have no idea who was in that car with Jack Fisher? Even though you remember everything else imaginable about this traumatic event.”

  “I do not recall who was in the car with him.”

  “You don’t recall the other officer who you depended upon for your life? For your common defense?”

  “I...do not.”

  Dan could see the jurors glancing at one another. No one liked this response. Even the judge bore knitted eyebrows.

  “Okaaaaay.” Maria drew in her breath. She was not even attempting to hide her disbelief. “One more thing. You told the jury you saw Ethan Pike pull the trigger with your own eyes.”

  “That is correct.”

  “Did you see him? Or did you allegedly see his reflection in a mirror?”

  Ellison tilted his head. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “At your deposition you testified that you did not directly witness the alleged shooting. You saw it in a mirror. Which raises all kinds of kinds of reliability issues, giving the darkness and the crossfire and—”

  “No, that’s incorrect.”

  Maria looked at him as if he had told her one and one was three. “Sir, I was at the deposition. I know what you said.”

  “I’m afraid this time it’s your memory that fails you. I saw this murder—this execution, really—with my own eyes.”

  Dan had grabbed the deposition transcript before Ellison had even finished answering. He thumbed through the transcript, looking for the relevant passage.

  And didn’t find it. Because it wasn’t there.

  According to the official record of his testimony, Ellison had turned his head, looked behind him, and seen Ethan shoot Jack in cold blood.

  A chill raced down his spine.

  Be careful about Marjorie, Shawna had warned Jimmy.

  Marjorie. The one sporting a purse most wealthy citizens wouldn’t afford.

  Sweeney recognized this was a major weakness in Ellison’s testimony. So he paid Marjorie to change it.

  She’d been bought off.

  Maria returned to the table, her arm outstretched. She wanted the transcript to impeach the witness.

  He shook his head no.