Joshua: A Brooklyn Tale (38 page)

At least Rachel understood.
Bravo,
Esther,
for
chasing
after
the
things
you
knew
would
make
you
happy,
and
shame
on
me
for
settling,
for
allowing
myself
to
end
up
like
this.
But enough with feeling sorry for herself; she had work to do. She had to speak with her father.

“Hello Mama,” Rachel said.

Hannah Weissman was surprised to find Rachel at her front door. She looked her daughter over. Cherry red fall coat, matching hat, and a sprightly countenance. The old Rachel.

They embraced. Hannah could barely hold back her tears.

“Now, Mama, let’s not get melodramatic,” Rachel said.

Hannah didn’t respond. She was speechless.

Isaac emerged from the living room, and also began to cry.

“You too, Papa?”

Isaac was embarrassed, but couldn’t help himself. His daughter, his
beautiful
daughter, had returned to life. “Come, come in!” he said, waving her into the living room.

Rachel removed her coat and followed her father. Hannah excused herself to the kitchen to prepare some coffee. “You look so
vunderful
,” Isaac said, his lips quivering, as he sat down.

“Thank you, Papa.”

They chatted for a short while, about nothing, until Hannah came in with some coffee and cake. Rachel stood to help her mother. “It’s okay,” Hannah said, “just sit, let me do the work.”

“So, vhat’s new? Vat’s
really
new?” Isaac asked.

“Well, as you can both see, I’m feeling better,
Baruch
Hashem
.”

Isaac: “Yes,
Baruch
Hashem
, thank God.”

Hannah: “
Baruch
Hashem
.”

Rachel: “And how are
you
?”

Isaac: “Ve’re both
gut,
Baruch
Hashem
, and now that you’re okay, ve’re better than ever!”

Hannah nodded along.

Rachel: “I saw Esther yesterday, last night.” She had to start somewhere.

Hannah: “And how is she doing?”

Rachel: “Good, I suppose.” Tentative. “She’s getting married.”

Isaac: “
Mazel
tov
! It’s about time!”

Hannah: “
Mazel
Tov
.” Subdued. She could tell from Rachel’s tone that something wasn’t quite right.

Isaac: “And who is the lucky man?”

Rachel looked at her parents and read her mother’s reaction. She knew she could never fool her mother. “His name is Stephen Butler,” she said.

Isaac: “Butler,” he reflected, “I don’t think I know the family.”

Hannah: “You wouldn’t.” Disdain.

Rachel: “Mama!”

Hannah: “Rachel, why don’t you tell your father
everything
.”

Rachel: “Okay, so he’s not Lubavitch.”

Isaac: “She’s marrying a Satmar?”

Hannah: “No, Isaac, I don’t think he’s a Satmar, or even a Bratslaver.” She hesitated a moment, looking at Rachel. “I don’t think he’s even Jewish.”

Isaac’s face turned crimson.

“That’s not true!” Rachel protested. “He
is
Jewish, just not religious.” As if that made much of a difference.

Isaac: “How has her father reacted?”

Rachel: “Well, that’s just it. He really doesn’t know yet.”

Hannah jumped in. “Rachel, you’re not suggesting that we, I mean your father, be the messenger of such news, are you?”

Isaac seemed a bit confused. There was an unspoken communication between the two women that he had never been privy to, a type of mind reading.

“Well,” Rachel responded, “I was sort of hoping… actually,
Esther
was hoping that Papa might intercede and talk to Reb Lazar.”

Hannah: “Rachel, it really is Esther’s place to deal with her parents.”

Rachel: “I know. It’s just that she’s afraid of their reaction. But if Papa tells them it’s okay…”

“Okay, what’s okay?” Hannah interrupted.

Rachel was dumbfounded.

“Don’t worry,” Isaac said to the women, “I’ll find a way to talk to Reb Lazar.” At that moment, he wasn’t going to deny his daughter anything.

“But what will you say?” Hannah asked.

Isaac thought about her question. “I’ll tell him that this is an opportunity for him to do a great
mitzvah
, to reach out and bring this young man into the fold of
Yiddishkeit
.”

“I’m sure that will go over well,” Hannah responded sardonically. “While you’re at it, tell him what a
mitzvah
it would be to bring his daughter back to Judaism as well.”

Rachel: “Mama, maybe they both
will
return.”

Hannah: “And maybe the Messiah will come tomorrow.”

Rachel didn’t want to argue, she had already won. “One more thing, Papa,” she said.

Isaac waited.

“Would you marry them?”

Did he really have a choice?

CHAPTER 41
 

Joshua and Connie passed the Bar exam, became full-fledged lawyers, and celebrated with steak dinners at Luger’s under the Williamsburg Bridge. Dessert was at some flea bag motel a few blocks from the restaurant. The next morning, Joshua marched into Fielding’s office, tendered his resignation, and informed Fielding that Willie Johnson would henceforth be represented by private council. Fielding didn’t seem to care much about either piece of news. “Better you than me,” was all he had to say.

Joshua was now a lawyer with a client, soaking behind the ears, and no place to hang his proverbial hat. He invited Connie to join him in private practice, but she wasn’t leaving the DA’s office so fast. He didn’t really try to persuade her. She would be more valuable where she was.

Loretta didn’t object when he asked if he could set up shop in the house. There was nothing she wouldn’t do to help her lawyer son, even if he was defending a suspected rapist. If he believed in Willie Johnson, so did she. He only hoped the jury would be as kind.

Another thing Loretta did was present him with a check for a thousand dollars. She said it was the last of the money she had saved over the years for his education. Not fully believing her, he took the money. Using Alfred Sims’ money to help Willie Johnson didn’t present much of a conflict.

Joshua had also saved a little from his job. In all, he had enough for supplies, a private phone line, and to tide himself over for a few months. He realized he didn’t have much of a case, but figured the DA didn’t either. He was also banking on Thompson being in court and handling the media. All the ingredients for an acquittal.

He knew he was being used by Thompson, but thanks to the professor there had been a lot of play about the case in the press, and more than a few hotshot attorneys approaching Willie with generous offers. Willie, however, wasn’t biting. He was following Thompson’s lead. Thompson had even managed to locate Willie’s mother and was now the official spokesman for the family. He had finessed Venice Johnson’s transformation from drug addict to solicitous mother, had raised the money for Willie’s bail, and had gotten the defendant a full-time job in a grocery store. Everything was looking up.

Joshua was well aware of why he’d been chosen. True, he had believed in Willie, and had brought the case to Thompson’s attention in the first place, but the professor was less concerned with rewarding loyalty than with promoting his agenda. Having an inexperienced nobody like Joshua as Willie’s lawyer insured that the spotlight would be Thompson’s, and his alone.

Joshua nevertheless knew that he was no patsy, nor any less driven by ambition than Thompson. The glitz had definitely seduced him, and he was keenly aware that winning the Willie Johnson case would launch his career. It was tough to keep perspective, to remember the real reason he was there.

There wasn’t a lot of preparation involved. He didn’t have any witnesses. Willie’s mother had wanted to testify as to her son’s excellent moral character, and had offered to have some of her neighbors do the same. Joshua had thought it an unwise strategy, considering the defense was planning on using Willie’s past record to prove otherwise. There was no sense in offering a bogus defense and losing credibility. Thompson had agreed.

Instead, he would simply attack the prosecution’s case. A few holes, the casting of some “reasonable doubt,” a lot of noise from Thompson about police racism, and voilà. Joshua had no problem with any of this, it was all true.

The night before the trial, Joshua sat at his desk, trying to review his opening statement. He just couldn’t help drifting off and thinking about the twists his life had taken. Tomorrow he would be standing before a judge and jury. As a lawyer.

Loretta came in. “Some men are here to see you. I recognize one of them from TV.”

He walked out to the living room and found Thompson waiting with two of his cronies and three kids. Joshua recognized one of the kids: scarred chin, beady eyes, rotten teeth. It was the kid he’d run into the night he had searched for Willie’s friends.

“Good evening, Mr. Eubanks,” Thompson said. “I wouldn’t dream of bothering you on the night before a trial, but I believe that these young men have some information which might be of value to your case.”

The kids appeared reticent, frightened. Thompson put his hand on the shoulder of the one Joshua recognized, and said, “Come on now, Arthur, tell Mr. Eubanks what you know about Willie Johnson’s whereabouts on the night that Jewish woman was raped.”

“I keep tellin’ you man, my name ain’t Arthur. It’s A.J., okay,
A.J.
!”

“Well, your Mama seems bent on calling you Arthur,” Thompson responded. “But that’s another matter. Why don’t you just tell Mr. Eubanks exactly what you told us.”

Arthur, aka A.J., looked at Joshua with trepidation, then at his buddies. “We still have a deal?” he asked Joshua.

“Yes,” Joshua responded.

Thompson looked bewildered. “You know this kid?”

“We’ve met,” Joshua answered, and then turned to the kid. “Well, A.J., what’s it gonna be?”

“So we got a deal?”

Joshua nodded.

“Cause if we gotta say this in court, we gonna be in a lotta trouble. We’ll need a
real
good
lawyer.” His friends, though silent, seemed to be in agreement.

“Well, Mr. Eubanks is certainly one of the best,” Thompson interjected.

“Depending on what you’ve got,” Joshua said, “you may not have to say it in court. If it’s good enough, there may not have to be a trial.”

They looked at him curiously.

He explained. “If you guys have evidence which proves that Willie didn’t rape that lady, then the DA’s going to want to dismiss the charges before the trial even starts. See, the last thing the DA wants is the public embarrassment of losing a trial like this. Now, I can still insist we go to trial to expose the prejudice of the DA and the police department, and the DA’s going to want to do anything to avoid that. So I offer him a deal: no charges against you guys. Everyone goes home. But this all depends on what you’ve got.”

A.J. looked at his friends. They seemed to agree. Joshua wondered just how Thompson had found these guys, but didn’t ask. He figured there were some things he was better off not knowing.

A.J. and his friends told their story. They claimed that Willie was with them during the time when Emma Lukins was raped and beaten. They’d hit two liquor stores, one in Canarsie and one in Sheepshead Bay, and had stolen a little over three hundred bucks without hurting anyone. Willie had used his gun in both robberies, consistent with his previous MO.

Joshua called the respective Precincts and verified that both liquor store robberies did, in fact, take place that night. The first coincided exactly with the time of the Lukins incident, and the descriptions of the perpetrators were remarkably consistent with Willie and his friends. Joshua was certain the DA had seen the robbery reports, and had ignored them in favor of charging Willie with the rape.

He told the kids that he could probably get a deal for them, if they were prepared to go to the wall for Willie. They might have to repay the money, do some community service and probation, but that would be about it. They promised to show up in court the next day, but Thompson sent his “associates” home with them, just to be sure.

Thompson stayed behind. There was something more he needed to discuss with Joshua. “No deals with the DA!” he said.

Joshua knew this was coming. “But we promised those kids.”

“Listen to me, Joshua. What the DA did in this case is
unconscionable
. It must be exposed. People have to know what happened here, the world has to know!”

“But those kids…”

“Those kids are criminals,” he said with all the self righteousness he could muster.

“And Willie Johnson is a criminal too!”

“That’s correct. Do you want Willie and his friends to go scot-free for the crimes they actually
did
commit?” More self righteousness.

“Willie has already been punished enough with all this. As for his friends, if they got a break, and saw that there were people they could trust, like
us
, who knows what would happen? I’ve seen kids like that my whole life, they think the odds are always against them, so they rob and steal what they can. Maybe once, just once, if they saw that the system can work for them the same way it works for rich white folks, they’d have a chance to clean up their act. Because I can tell you one thing: prison won’t do them, or anyone else, a bit of good.”

“My, you have quite a bleeding heart there.”

“Just a heart.”

“I’m sorry you feel this way, Joshua, and I’m sorry for those kids, but the trial
must
proceed!
You
have
to
see
the
big
picture
here
! This isn’t about Willie Johnson; it’s about the police and the DA. If there’s no public hearing, they’ll be able to smooth things over, to say that
they
uncovered new evidence, new leads to pursue and investigate. They’ll make themselves look like heroes, instead of the racist scum we know them to be, and
you
will have helped them do it!”

“That’s where you’re wrong, professor. This
is
about Willie Johnson, and
nothing
else
!”

Thompson held his tongue, gathered his coat, and opened the door to see himself out. He turned toward Joshua one last time, his face bearing a warning:
Don’t
defy
me
!

Joshua stared into Thompson’s eyes, knowing he couldn’t obey, and understanding that it would one day come back to haunt him.

The deal with the DA came off just as Joshua had predicted, and the DA’s statement to the media was just as Thompson had predicted. Joshua stood on the courthouse steps with Willie and his mother, watching the DA play to the press. Nobody was interested in the three of them. So much for his fame and glory.

He offered to take the Johnsons to lunch, but they declined. Venice kissed him on the cheek, thanked him, and promised to be a better mother. Willie shook his hand and promised to stay out of trouble. He wasn’t sure he believed either of them.

Professor Thompson hadn’t even bothered to show up. There was nothing left in this case for him. Also absent were the many Hasidic spectators that had been awaiting the trial. When the DA had stood up, and had announced to the court that “new” evidence had emerged exonerating Willie Johnson, the Hasidim upped and left in disappointment. They would have to await another day for justice for Emma Lukins.

The press was still surrounding the DA. Joshua watched Willie and his mother descend the steps. He started to walk off, and heard his name called. He turned, and saw a man with a microphone running toward him, and a TV camera following behind.

“Mr. Eubanks, is it?” the man with the mike asked.

“Yes.” The camera was aimed at his face.

“Well, sir, do you have any comment about this case? There are rumors that the DA really messed up and is giving us a snow job.”

“All I can say is that Willie Johnson has been exonerated of all charges, and that I hope the police work quickly and effectively to bring the true perpetrator of this horrible crime to trial.”

“No other comment? We understand that Professor Alvin Thompson was involved in this case, that there were charges of police racism, false arrest…”

“I’m sorry,” Joshua said as he began to walk away, “I have no comment on any of those things.”