Bum Rap (25 page)

-57-

Hostile Witness

J
udge Duckworth’s chambers were dark and cool. An American flag stood on one side of her desk, a US Army flag on the other, complete with Revolutionary War cannon and the slogan “This We’ll Defend.” Otherwise, it was a typical trial judge’s chambers, complete with the scent of old cracked leather and shelves of law books made obsolete by the Internet.

We gathered around the judge’s desk. Pincher and one of his assistants. Victoria, Solomon, and me. Plus the court stenographer, ready to type away on her little machine.

“Well now,” the judge began, “just what in the name of Ulysses S. Grant is going on?”

“I’m entitled to impeach my witness based on her prior statements,” Pincher said.

“Just because Mr. Pincher doesn’t like the testimony doesn’t mean Ms. Delova is hostile to the state,” I said. “It’s not her fault he’s placed the entire burden of proving his case on her. He can’t just launch into leading questions of his own witness and attack her testimony.”

“My questions will prove her hostility,” he shot back.

“Let me see the transcript of Ms. Delova’s deposition,” Judge Duckworth said. “I’ll make a preliminary finding on prior inconsistencies.”

“I never took her deposition in discovery,” I said.

“Really?”

“I’m actually quite a lazy lawyer.”

“Either that, Mr. Lassiter,” the judge said, a twinkle in her eye, “or you made a decision not to let the state know in advance just what you would ask the witness at trial.”

“There’s that, too,” I admitted.

Judge Duckworth turned to Pincher. “Let me have a look at the sworn statement Ms. Delova gave to your office.”

Pincher cleared his throat. It sounded a bit like the choking of a drowning man. “We never took a written statement.”

“A recording then?”

“We didn’t do that, either.”

“Why in blazes not?” the judge inquired.

When Pincher hesitated, I answered for him. “Because the state would have been required to give me the statements in pretrial discovery.”

That was true. Like a boxer head butting in a clinch, Sugar Ray always liked the element of surprise. Well, we both did.

“It was a strategic decision,” Pincher said in his own defense.

“How’s that working out for you?” the judge asked.

“I should still be permitted to impeach Ms. Delova based on what she told me in my office. It directly contradicts her testimony here today.”

“And then what? You’re a lawyer trying the case. You can’t testify against your own witness. Or any witness for that matter. You just don’t have the materials to impeach her, and I’m not going to allow you to treat her as a hostile witness just because her answers surprised you after you vouched for her credibility by calling her.”

“Your Honor, I suspect skullduggery,” Pincher said.

Yeah, he really said “skullduggery.”

“Meaning what?” she asked.

“I should be permitted to ask Mr. Solomon and Ms. Lord about their contacts with my witness. Did they influence her in any way?”

“On my oath,” I said, “I’ve never spoken to Ms. Delova in my life. In fact, I’ve never seen her before she walked into court today.”

“Truly, Mr. Lassiter?” the judge said.

“I told you I was lazy.”

“Your Honor,” Victoria said. “I was with Ms. Delova the day she was arrested in Pennsylvania but have not spoken with her since.”

“Thank you for that, Ms. Lord,” the judge said. “Mr. Pincher, I’m denying your oral motion to treat your witness as hostile. You may ask her anything you wish on direct, but you may not lead or otherwise attempt to impeach her.”

“For the record, note my exception.”

“Unnecessary, but so noted.”

“Now, do you have more questions for your witness?”

“Without the ability to impeach, no, I do not. Ms. Delova has become a defense witness, and I choose not to hear her tell the jury a second time that Mr. Solomon is innocent.”

“Mr. Lassiter, do you have any cross?”

“Your Honor, Granny Lassiter didn’t raise no idiot children.”

“I take that as a no. Then we’ll excuse Ms. Delova and Mr. Pincher can call his next witness.”

Pincher massaged his forehead with both hands and said, “We request a seventy-two-hour recess in order to . . .”

“To what, Mr. Pincher?”

“To reformulate our case now that we lack an eyewitness.”

“That’s not a recess. That’s a continuance. Motion denied. We’re going to try this case to a verdict . . . unless you have anything you’d like to say to the court or to defense counsel.”

“Yes, Your Honor.” Pincher composed himself for a moment before turning to me. “Would a plea to aggravated assault interest you, Jake? Sentence of time served. Withhold adjudication.”

“An hour ago, I would have taken it, Ray. But now, it’s a nonstarter.”

Pincher sucked in a deep breath. So deep that if he’d been smoking a joint, he’d be halfway to the moon by now. He gave me a grudging little smile. “I don’t know how you did it, Jake.”

“Hell, neither do I.”

He turned back to the judge. “Your Honor, the state cannot proceed and therefore will
nol-pros
all charges.”

“As jeopardy has attached, that would be a dismissal with prejudice,” the judge said.

“Of course. The case is over.” Pincher shot a look at the court stenographer to make sure she was still typing. I knew what was coming next. The first draft of his official statement to the press. He spoke deliberately. “After due consideration, the state has determined that Nadia Delova killed Nicolai Gorev in self-defense. Gorev was a gangster and member of
Bratva
, the Russian Mafia. He was armed and threatened both Ms. Delova and Mr. Solomon, a distinguished Miami attorney. Under Stand Your Ground, Ms. Delova had every right to fire the shot that ended Gorev’s life. In fact, she is to be commended for her bravery as well as her marksmanship.”

Pincher turned to me as if for approval. I gave him a thumbs-up that wouldn’t show up on the transcript.

“What about an apology?” Solomon said. “I want an apology on the record.”

“Shut up, Solomon,” I said. “You just got it. ‘Distinguished Miami attorney.’ ”

“I need to go back in and thank the jury before sending them home,” the judge said. “Anybody got anything else to say?”

Victoria wrapped her arms around Solomon’s neck and kissed him. “I love you,” she said. “And that’s on the record.”

-58-

Rapprochement

I
can’t thank you enough, Jake,” Victoria said. “You were magnificent.”

“Yeah, that goes for me, too,” Solomon said. “And I apologize again for not trusting your judgment.”

“Aw, jeez. My new BFFs. I think I’m gonna cry.”

“Jake, be real,” Victoria told me. “You pretend to have that hard bark, but you’re cotton candy underneath.”

“
Okay, this is real. I didn’t win the case. You did, Victoria. Whatever you told Hostetler worked. I just shut up and got out of the way.”

It was just before noon the day after the trial ended, and we were in the bar at the Hyatt Regency downtown. Gerald Hostetler had called Victoria, saying Nadia wanted to see us. We were waiting for them while drinking mojitos and eating guacamole and chips.

“You’re not really quitting the practice, are you, dude?” Solomon said, clopping me on the shoulder, all buddy-buddy. “Because I was thinking we could try a case together sometime.”

“Funny,” I said. “I was thinking we could try cases against each other.”

“How?”

“There’s a courthouse rumor that Ray Pincher isn’t running for reelection.”

“Oh no!” Victoria said. “You’re not going to run for state attorney.”

“Something to think about when I fall asleep in the hammock tonight, sipping a martini. Gin. Not vodka.”

“I think it would be great if you’re the chief prosecutor,” Solomon said. “But I’d kick your ass in court. Being a defendant will make me a better trial lawyer, don’t you think?”

“From personal experience, I know it will.”

“Whatever the future holds,” Victoria said, “we’ll always be grateful to you, Jake.”

“You’re welcome,” I told them. “So Victoria, what did you say to Hostetler that flipped Nadia?”

“Already told you. That you can bend the law like a baker twisting a pretzel. Just don’t break the dough when you bend it.”

“I always thought that was a little vague,” I said.

“Me, too, Vic,” Solomon said. “What’s the rest?”

She poked her straw into the bottom of the mojito glass, crushing the mint leaves. “Nothing.”

“Hey, babe, it’s us you’re talking to,” Solomon said. “Steve and Jake. Your lover and my lawyer. We’re a team . . . unless Lassiter gets elected state attorney. You can’t hold out on us.”

“I’m with Solomon on this one,” I chimed in.

Victoria sipped at her mojito before answering. “Gerald was afraid if Nadia backed Steve’s story, she’d be charged with perjury, so I broke down the case for him. There were three people in that office. One was dead. If the other two told the same story, no one could prove either one was lying. As a practical matter, she faced no chance of a perjury conviction if she backed Steve’s story that she fired in self-defense.”

“Nice work, Vic,” Solomon said.

“Ditto,” I said.

I spotted Hostetler and Nadia walking into the bar, pushing carry-on luggage. She was wearing a yellow polka-dot sundress that gave her a girl-next-door air of innocence. He wore a “Save the Everglades” T-shirt and jeans. They were headed back to Pennsylvania. The
three of us stood as they approached our table.

A great deal of hugging commenced.

Victoria hugged Nadia, then Hostetler.

Solomon hugged Hostetler, then Nadia.

I just shook Hostetler’s hand and said thanks to Nadia. Sorry, I’m just not that touchy-feely.

“I want to apologize to you in person, Steve,” Nadia said. “So much trouble I caused you.”

“It all turned out okay,” he said.

“Could I speak to you privately?”

Solomon shot a look at Victoria, who shrugged a yes.

“I’ll go check out, sweetheart,” Hostetler said to Nadia, wheeling their luggage away.

Nadia and Solomon retreated to the far side of the bar, where they began whispering. Victoria watched a moment, then said to me, “What’s going on?”

“No idea.”

“You don’t think . . . ?”

“What?”

“What I said before. That there was anything going on between them.”

“No way, Victoria. Trust me. I can tell from their body language.”

Which, of course, was precisely the moment Nadia kissed Solomon on the lips. Just a little kiss, not a long, lingering, can’t-wait-to-hump-again kiss.

“What the hell!” Victoria said.

“Relax. It’s just a Russian greeting.”

“You’re making that up. They already greeted.”

We both watched as Nadia reached into her purse and handed something to Solomon. No way to tell from here what it was. Something small, though. It fit into the palm of his hand.

“Jake! What are they doing?”

I didn’t know, so I didn’t answer.

Solomon and Nadia hugged. Again. Just a quickie. Then she left to meet Pretzel Man at the front desk, and Solomon returned to our table.

When he sat down, nobody said a word for a long moment.

“Why are you blushing?” Victoria demanded.

“I’m not. I’m not.” He was stammering. “I don’t blush.”

“Your neck is flushed. Do you have a fever?”

“I’m fine.”

“What did Nadia give you?”

“I’m not sure this is the time or place,” Solomon said.

“Why not?”

“Well, it’s just that it’s between the two of us.”

“You and Nadia?”

“No! You and me, Vic.”

“I’ll leave,” I offered.

“No, you won’t,” Victoria said. “I need a witness if I have sufficient grounds to slice Steve’s throat. What did Nadia give you?”

Solomon reached into his pocket and pulled out a small brown cotton bag with a drawstring. He placed the bag onto the table. “Open it, Vic.”

She looked at him dubiously, then picked up the bag, pulled the drawstring, and a rough glassy object a little smaller than a golf ball dropped into her hand.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Looks like quartz,” I said.

“Uncut diamond,” Solomon said. “Big one. Nadia estimates it’ll be four to five carats when cut. She seems to know a lot about diamonds.”

“I thought the feds recovered all the smuggled diamonds when they searched Hostetler’s house,” I said.

“They didn’t get the ones Nadia buried in the backyard.”

“So there are more?” Victoria said.

“Enough to build Hostetler a new factory,” Solomon said. “Though they’ll still hand-roll the pretzels. Anyway, Nadia wants you to have the diamond. I mean, I want you to have it.”

“What are you saying, Steve?” she asked.

“Well . . .”

I fidgeted in my seat. “Solomon, am I sitting here listening to you ask Victoria to marry you?”

“Well. Yeah.”

“Oh, my God,” Victoria said.

“You’re doing a shitty job of it, Solomon,” I said. “Would it help if I left?”

“Damn right.”

“I’m out of here, guys.”

“Not so fast, Jake,” Victoria said. “We’re going to be seeing a lot of you.”

“Why? Which one of you is gonna be indicted next?”

She ignored me and turned to Solomon. “Yes, Steve. Hell, yes! I want to marry you.”

Solomon let out a long, low whistle like air escaping from a balloon. “Whoopee-ki-yay-yo!”

They leapt out of their chairs, embraced, and kissed. Slow and deep and long. So long I could have mixed a pitcher of martinis and polished off the first one. Just as I intended to do when I got home. But for now, I was still sitting while the two of them hovered above me, a-hugging and a-kissing. Making out is not a spectator sport, but there I was, the creaky third wheel. Sure, I was happy for them, but a part of me felt empty, too. Solomon was a lucky son of a bitch, and I was going home alone.

“Congratulations, you crazy kids,” I said. “Now, may I leave?”

“Not yet, big guy,” Solomon said, and they both sat down again. He gave me a straight-on, dead-serious look. “Jake, old pal, I want you to be my best man.”

I was quiet a moment. Now I really wanted that pitcher of booze along with a bittersweet country song about dusty roads and broken hearts.

“C’mon, Jake. What about it?” he pressed me.

“Do I have to do a toast? I’m not good with cheerfulness and optimism.”

“We’ll call it closing argument and you’ll be fine.”

“You’re not gonna write your own vows, are you? ‘Love flew in my window on a seagull’s wings.’ ”

“More like we met in a jail cell after being held in contempt,” Victoria said.

“Are you sure about this?” I asked. “Not the marriage. My being best man.”

“Relax, Jake,” Victoria said. “You might have been joking when you called us your best friends forever. But the three of us? That’s what we are.”

I slumped in my chair. It’s not that I’m antisocial. But coming from a fractured family, I’m not at ease at other people’s festivities. Holiday dinners, communions, weddings? Not for me. Maybe joyous get-togethers remind me of what I’ve missed.

Solomon and Lord were reaching out to me, but I felt incapable of responding. Closeness with others, true friendship, had always been so elusive.

“Whadaya say, Jake?” Solomon said.

I let the question hang there a second, then said, “I really got a sense of Victoria when we were working on your case.”

“Yeah?”

“You’ve got yourself a helluva smart fiancée.”

“I know it, pal.”

“And a terrific woman.”

“I know that, too.”

“You ever hurt her in any way, I’ll beat the tar out of you.”

“
No worries, Lassiter. Now, are you in? You gonna be my best man?”

Still, I didn’t answer. Then, apropos of nothing—at least nothing I was thinking about—Victoria said, “I’ve always wanted children.”

“Me, too,” Solomon agreed.

He fixed me with another serious gaze. If my cardiologist ever looked at me that way, I’d make sure my estate plan was in order. Now what?

“If we have a boy,” he said, “do we have your permission?”

“To do what?”

“To name him Jake, of course.”

Solomon was moving too fast for me. We’d spent the last several months arguing and insulting each other. Now he wanted me to carry his ring and to immortalize my name in his lineage. How do you say no to that?

“What about it, Jake?” Victoria said.

I sat up straight in my chair. Sometimes you just have to tighten your chin strap and charge full speed ahead.

“I really need to get home,” I said. Disappointment crossed both their faces. “But before I go, let’s have another round of drinks.”

“Why?” they asked simultaneously.

“I gotta practice that wedding toast.”