No Time To Run (Legal Thriller Featuring Michael Collins, Book 1) (7 page)

“
Whenever you want.”

“
Thank you.”

“
I didn’t do anything,” Father Stiles shrugged.

“
You were here,” Michael said. “You never had to be here, but you always were, always are.”

“
My job,” Father Stiles smiled. “And maybe a little more than a job as it relates to you.”

Michael stood and was about to leave, when Father Stiles raised his hand.

“
There’s something you should know.” He opened his desk drawer, reached inside, and removed a small stack of papers clipped at the corner. “Got it yesterday morning.”

Father Stiles handed the papers to Michael. It was a grand jury subpoena from the United States Department of Justice, In The Matter Of
The United States of America v. Michael John Collins
.

Michael looked down at the papers. A grand jury was the first step a federal prosecutor needed before issuing a criminal indictment.

They were coming after him, thought Michael. Vatch had to love it.

Father Stiles nodded toward the papers. “I had the lawyers from the diocese looking at it. Mostly what they want is privileged communication with a priest, but there are things they have a right to know.”

“
When are you going to testify?”

“
Not sure.” Father Stiles tilted his head to the side. “Next few weeks I suppose, timing is odd with you being here.”

“
Odd,” Michael paused, and then handed the papers back to Father Stiles. “Thank you for telling me.” 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Michael sat on a bench across the street from the New York Criminal Courthouse. It was a large building on Broadway shaped like a wedding cake covered with gray frosting.  On a typical day the street would have been full of lawyers and government employees catching a minute of fresh air or eating lunch, but the temperature had dropped and the street was empty.

General K had included a long, wool trench coat and leather gloves as part of his overall makeover package. It was for a “very reasonable price,” according to the General. “A very reasonable price for a super-special customer.”

Michael sunk his hands further into the silk-lined pockets of his coat and tried to clear his head. The lack of sleep from the night before was catching up with him, and he couldn’t quite get comfortable in the suit.

It hadn’t felt like this before. The tailored clothes and ties had used to make Michael feel good. They had provided a little bit of confidence when he was unsure, but not anymore.

A series of bells rang from a nearby steeple, and Michael got up from the bench, crossed the street, and walked up the courthouse steps.

As soon as he was through the door, the winter calm gave way to mothers with crying babies, strung-out junkies arguing over cab fare, lawyers trying to sound smart, and cops looking tough. Some were just hanging out until their hearing, but most were moving through the metal detectors and security screen like bees returning to the hive.

Michael found what may have been construed as a line. Past a group of gangster trainees still not old enough to shave, he wedged himself in.

Each person in line did the security shuffle to the random beeps of detectors and wands. Michael followed their lead.

“
Arms up.”

Michael raised his arms out like a kid playing airplane, and then the security guard ran a black stick up one side and down the other.

“
Okay.” The guard gave a slight nudge. Michael stepped away from him to the conveyor, picked up his briefcase, and started walking toward the court administrator’s office.

Everywhere he went, Michael felt like eyes were on him. Some of the people who passed were a little too clean or a little too dirty, or didn’t seem like they were at the courthouse for any particular reason other than to steal a glance at him. Maybe he was being paranoid, but it wouldn’t surprise him if Vatch had set something up. At least he hoped it was Vatch and not someone else.

Michael walked up a large set of marble stairs to the second floor. This was where the government clerks and record keepers processed and housed the thousands of pieces of paper that came through on any given day.

Past the service windows, there was a bulletin board with postings of the day’s calendar. He was happy to see that it hadn’t changed or been replaced by some computer terminal that cost three times as much and didn’t work half as well.

Michael found Andie’s name on the schedule, and then made his way to the courtroom on the fourth floor.

His mind drifted to Father Stiles. Michael wasn't sure whether he was glad to know about the subpoena or not. Grand jury proceedings were to simply evaluate a prosecutor’s case and determine if the government had probable cause to press formal charges and proceed with a trial. Although the term “evaluate” suggests that a grand jury scrutinizes the evidence, in practice the proceedings were a rubber stamp. There would be no judge, no defense lawyer, and no testimony from the defense; just the prosecutor and the jurors alone. Michael knew that with that set-up, a good prosecutor could indict Mother Theresa.

###

Judge Christopher A. Baumann III looked over his courtroom with a wary eye. In a monotone voice, he called out the next case to be arraigned. Judge Baumann had been appointed to the bench in the early 1980s. He had been old then, and Michael couldn’t believe that the man was still alive and looked exactly the same.

A door opened on the side wall to the right of the judge, and a black man in an orange jumpsuit, leg irons and handcuffs walked through with a bailiff close behind. A public defender directed the man toward his table and told the accused to remain standing while he tried to locate the right file.

The county prosecutor stood and began laying out the basic facts of the case and charges.

“
How do you plead?” Judge Baumann asked.

“
Not guilty, your honor.” Everyone pleads not guilty, thought Michael.

“
Bail?” the Judge asked.

“
$5,000,” the prosecutor said.

“
Response?”

“
We find that to be extremely high, considering the man has spent his whole life in the city. His family is here, and …” Michael had heard all of the public defender’s arguments before, and  in the end, he knew it wasn’t going to make any difference.

“
Bail will be set at $5,000.” The judge swung his gavel down. Paper shuffled from the judge’s desk to his clerk, and then finally to a second and third administrator for filing and entry into a computer.

The black man in the orange jumpsuit was escorted out of the courtroom and the wheels of justice rolled on.

Other men in orange jumpsuits were led into the courtroom, and then out over the next hour. All were not guilty. And all of the public defender’s arguments for lower bail were ignored.

Judge Baumann paused as he picked up the next file that was three times thicker than the others.

“
State of New York v. Andie Larone
, case file number CI-09-219375.”

The young public defender and prosecutor sat down as Michael came forward.

“
I’m Michael John Collins, Your Honor, representing the defendant in this matter.”

“
Mr. Collins, welcome to my world.” Judge Baumann rolled his eyes. For the first time, he appeared to have an interest in the proceedings before him. “I believe that Ms. Larone will be out shortly.” He looked at the door where the accused had been coming and going all day. “Could our distinguished guests on the other side now state their names for the record?”

Michael turned toward the prosecutor’s table. He couldn’t quite believe what he saw. The young assistant county attorney was now gone. In her place stood the top three law enforcement officials in the State of New York.

“
I’m Shawn Kasper the New York County District Attorney representing the people of Manhattan in this matter, Your Honor. Also with me is the United States Attorney General for New York, Brenda Gadd, and the New York State Attorney General, Harold Frist.”

The public defender had been packing his briefcase, but stopped. He swore under his breath. “Who the hell is your client?”

Michael didn’t respond.

“
Well, this is quite a surprise and an awful lot of legal firepower to handle an arraignment.” Judge Baumann smiled. “Must be a press conference afterwards.” There was some laughter in the courtroom, but Michael wasn’t laughing. Something was about to happen.

The door opened and Andie Larone came out.

Just like the others, she wore an orange jumpsuit. Her hands were cuffed in front of her. A narrow silver chain attached one leg to the other. Michael wanted to take her into his arms and hold her, but he knew that he couldn’t. All he could do was touch her shoulder.

Andie looked at his hand, and then at Michael. A tear rolled down her cheek. “Hang in there,” he said. She nodded, and then turned to the judge with her head held high.

“
Mr. Kasper,” Judge Baumann said, “it’s your show.”

“
Yes, Your Honor, thank you.” The veteran district attorney of New York shuffled some papers in front of him. It was as if he hadn’t been preparing for this simple arraignment all morning. Then he looked up.

“
As you know, Your Honor, the charges against Ms. Larone are very serious. I have just found out that the federal government will be filing papers in order to initiate federal charges under 21 U.S.C. Section 848. Therefore, we would like to have this proceeding stayed and Ms. Larone held without bail until the federal case moves forward and Ms. Larone is transferred into federal custody.”

“
And then?” Judge Baumann asked.

“
The New York District Attorney and the State of New York both consent to a stay of these proceedings until the federal prosecution is complete.”

“
The point being?” Judge Baumann asked, and then added without waiting for a response, “I’m not a federal judge, but our laws seem to be just as brilliant as the federal ones.”

“
Well, given our limited resources, it would only make sense to wait …” Shawn Kasper paused, and then looked at the United States Attorney Brenda Gadd. He wanted her consent to continue with his explanation.

“
Someone tell me what’s going on, please?” Judge Baumann leaned forward, staring hard at the prosecutors. “Whether this woman ends up in some federal prison or state prison doesn’t really matter. Bars are bars and cells are cells, assuming she ends up in prison at all.”

A few more awkward seconds of silence, and then Brenda Gadd stepped forward. She was a career prosecutor who had made a name for herself putting away Wall Street brokers and analysts who had pumped up worthless internet stocks in the late 1990s.

“
Yes, Your Honor, I believe I can speak to that.” She folded her hands in front of her and waited to make direct eye contact with the judge. Gadd commanded the room with a pleasant, round, Mother Hubbard face that juries could trust. “The remedy that the federal government believes is appropriate is not available via the state court system. As you know, the state statute was found unconstitutional pursuant to state law, and therefore, it is in the people’s interest to handle this case at the federal level.”

Judge Baumann held Gadd’s stare as he processed the information. Then he blinked when the pieces fell into place. “You are seeking the death penalty?”

“
Yes, Your Honor, we are.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Andie threw the plastic pitcher of water across the room. What little liquid was in the pitcher splashed against the wall, followed by the empty noise of the pitcher rattling on the tile floor.

A guard opened the door, his hand on his gun, but Michael waved him off.

“
It’s fine.” Michael stepped between the guard and Andie. “She’ll be fine.”

The guard eyed them both with suspicion, eventually leaving them alone. As the door to the small conference room closed, Andie looked at Michael with an intensity he hadn’t seen before. She was caged and scared.

“
Never even crossed my mind.” Michael’s voice was soft, calm; almost apologetic. “What they’re doing, it isn’t common. Usually the feds do their thing and let the locals do their own, but I guess that’s changed.”

“
Why?” Andie asked, but Michael wasn’t sure whether he should give her the answer: Him. He was the reason. Michael thought about the grand jury. The prosecutors were going to use Andie to get at him.

“
There are actually two court systems in the United States, one is state and one is federal. The state courts deal with state law, and then the federal courts deal with all the federal laws. Most people don’t know that.”

“
I don’t want a civics lesson, Michael
―”