The Hanging Judge (38 page)

“I don’t think he is, but I don’t know. I thought he was her grandson.”

“Uh-huh. But you don’t disagree that you and your daughter, Grace, and Ms. Sanderson and Tyler would sometimes spend time together, right? You knew each other fairly intimately.”

“Intimately? I’m not sure …”

“Well, let me ask you this. On the day the defendant was arrested by officers of the Holyoke Police Department at approximately twelve thirty a.m., you knew Ms. Sanderson well enough that you went upstairs to her apartment with your daughter and stayed with her?”

Redpath felt a wave of unease, remembering how he had instructed Sandra to stay away from the details of the search, the destruction of the apartment, the hours the officers had spent on the premises. Given that the fruits of the search had been suppressed, letting the jury know about this nightmare might do more harm than good. Now he wondered if his advice had been correct.

In any event, Sandra’s quick glance told Redpath that she had remembered his words. No details.

“Yes.”

“You didn’t call any other friend or relative?”

“It was late, and she was up.”

“But that wasn’t my question.” Gomez-Larsen returned to the podium; once more, the jurors’ eyes followed her. “You chose not to call any other friend or family member at this time of crisis. You went upstairs to take shelter at your friend Zinnia Sanderson’s. Isn’t that right?”

“For that one night. Yes.”

“Thank you.” Gomez-Larsen sighed wearily as she prepared herself to continue.

“Now, to return to the point we were discussing a minute ago, it is true there were times, nearly every day, when your husband was on his own and you had no firsthand knowledge of what he was up to?”

“Up to?”

“Right. What he was doing.”

“Well, I knew enough about what he was doing to know he wasn’t out breaking the law.”

“Well, once again, that wasn’t my question, was it, Ms. Hudson? I asked whether there were times during the day when …”

“If you’re trying to say that Moon might have been out committing crimes and I wouldn’t know about it, that’s, you know, that’s nuts. I knew what he was up to, and he knew what I was up to, if you want to put it that way. We didn’t keep secrets.”

“Really?” Gomez-Larsen took a few seconds to stare up at the wall behind the judge again, propping her chin on her hand and reflecting about something. “We may get back to your remark about ‘secrets’ in a minute. Right now, let me ask you this: It is true, is it not, that sometimes in the mornings you and Ms. Sanderson and your children would take off for as long as two or three hours on your own?”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m just asking whether it’s true that you and your neighbor Ms. Sanderson would go for walks in the mornings sometimes.”

“I suppose. Yes.”

“Stop and buy yourselves doughnuts?”

“I’m sorry?”

“You’d sometimes stop with the kids at the Dunkin’ Donuts, right? Wouldn’t be back for two, three hours?”

Redpath felt Moon’s foot tap his. Moon was leaning forward on his elbows, using his arms to form a triangle with his hands at the top, so the jury’s view of his mouth would be blocked.

“Bill,” he whispered. “Not good.”

Sandra was answering the question. “I don’t know if it was that long. You’re saying, three hours?”

“Okay,” Gomez-Larsen said, “why don’t we make it two hours then.”

“Maybe two hours.”

“Okay, now a minute ago, Ms. Hudson, you stated that you and the defendant had no secrets from each other?”

“Objection.” Redpath wasn’t sure where Gomez-Larsen was going, but he didn’t like it.

“None,” Sandra broke in. “No secrets.”

“Objection,” Redpath repeated more emphatically.

“Your Honor,” Gomez-Larsen said. “May we approach sidebar?”

“Not necessary.” Norcross nodded up at the clock. “We’ll take the normal recess instead. I’ve been intending to give our jurors a chance to stretch their legs.” He tossed a benevolent look toward the jury box. “Mr. Foreperson, ladies and gentlemen, we’re going to take fifteen minutes now. Please remember not to discuss the case. Keep an open mind.”

Norcross looked down at Gomez-Larsen. “You did say, I believe, that you would be brief.”

“Almost done, Judge. Ten more minutes, max.”

“Good. Ms. Johnson, please escort the jury to their room. If counsel will stand by, we’ll clear up the sidebar issue. Ms. Hudson, you may step down from the stand.”

Redpath watched the jury leaving with a sinking heart. He’d been praying that the judge would let counsel go for a few minutes, too, which would give him time to think up some basis for his objection. Unfortunately, as soon as the jury was out of the courtroom, Norcross nodded down.

“All right, I’ll hear you. But let’s jump right to the point.”

“Obviously, Your Honor …” Redpath paused and leaped. “Ms. Gomez-Larsen is trying to move into the area of the drugs seized at my client’s residence, which you have excluded.”

“Really?” Norcross turned to Gomez-Larsen. “Is that where you’re going?”

Redpath was gratified and surprised to hear her reply, “Mr. Redpath is absolutely right, Your Honor. They’ve opened the door. The defense is entitled to a fair trial, but not to a license to lie.”

“Nice phrase,” Norcross said. “But who’s lying?”

Gomez-Larsen turned to look around the courtroom until her eye fell on Sandra Hudson.

“Before I continue,” she said, staring at where Sandra and her family sat together. “I’d ask that Ms. Hudson be excused from the courtroom, pursuant to your sequestration order.”

“My order bars witnesses from the courtroom during the testimony of other witnesses. We’re not hearing any testimony right now.”

“Nevertheless, I’d ask that Ms. Hudson be excused before I continue my remarks.”

“Very well. Ma’am?” Norcross nodded to the Cummings group. Sandra rose slowly and gave her mother a hug. As she did this, Moon, freed perhaps by the absence of the jury, allowed himself to twist around and watch her. Emerging from the embrace with her mother, Sandra saw her husband and gave him a smile, which Moon shyly returned. Redpath felt a spasm of frustration; he would, literally, have given one or possibly two of his fingers for the jury to catch that moment. Then, Sandra strode out of the courtroom, and Moon turned to face forward—his expression, as always, reverting to blank.

“Okay,” Norcross said. “Proceed. But let’s be quick. Time’s a-wasting.”

“Ms. Hudson just testified that she and the defendant had ‘no secrets’ from each other. I submit to you that that statement was a conscious and intentional lie. By that I mean the witness actually knew what she was saying was not true, and she was deliberately attempting to mislead this jury with her falsehood.”

A rustle arose from the Cummings group, and Gomez-Larsen turned again to glance back at them. Mr. Cummings had put an arm around his wife and was patting her shoulder. Mrs. Cummings was glaring at Gomez-Larsen with eyes of fire.

Gomez-Larsen turned back to the judge. “Believe me, I take no pleasure in having to say this. As you’ll recall, during the course of the search of the Hudson apartment, law enforcement officers uncovered a large quantity of marijuana, packaged for distribution, and a smaller quantity of ninety-two percent pure, so called ‘fish-scale’ cocaine, the very type being distributed by La Bandera at the time of the murders. Based on the court’s suppression order, the government has been prohibited from offering or even mentioning this highly probative evidence.”

“Right,” Norcross broke in. Redpath was pleased to see that Gomez-Larsen had stepped on His Honor’s toe. Her aggressive tone was going to make him defend his ruling. Norcross leaned forward and tapped his pen on the bench. “And, as you no doubt recall, the officers had no valid search warrant. The search was a flat violation of the Fourth Amendment.”

“They had an unsigned warrant …”

“Look, are we going to rehash all this again?” Norcross fell back in his chair and raised his hands. “A warrant not properly executed has no force. The officers didn’t even bother to bring this unsigned document along with them because, I imagine, they knew the darn thing was worthless. Come on. We have a jury waiting. Let’s get a move on.”

“I apologize, Your Honor,” Gomez-Larsen responded in a gentler tone. “I got off on a tangent. If you’ll bear with me for another two minutes, something very important is at stake here.”

“Two minutes. And I’m watching the clock.”

“During the search, Judge, Sandra Hudson was in the bedroom when they pulled the marijuana out of the back of the closet. I have four officers, four, who will testify that when the officer who found the contraband, an officer …”

Torricelli leaned forward and murmured behind her.

“Thank you. Officer Torricelli has just reminded me it was Officer Candelaria. When Officer Candelaria opened the shoe box and found the cash and the marijuana, Judge, Sandra Hudson expressed complete surprise and immediately stated to the defendant, who was standing on the other side of the bed, no more than six feet away from her, ‘Moon, where did that come from?’ or ‘How did that get there?’ or words to that effect—words expressing the simple reality that she, in fact, had absolutely no idea there were any controlled substances in the house.”

Gomez-Larsen stepped closer to the bench. She jabbed at the witness box.

“Sandra Hudson knew from that moment, Your Honor, that, in fact, Moon was keeping secrets from her. Big secrets. She knew then, and she knew five minutes ago when she sat on that witness stand, that Moon Hudson was selling drugs throughout their marriage and was concealing that fact from her. The door on the marijuana issue is now open. The lid to the shoe box is off. I’m entitled to question Sandra Hudson about her lack of knowledge of the presence of illegal narcotics in her house, in her own bedroom, and to put witnesses on the stand who will rebut her claim that she and the defendant had no secrets from each other. I’m sorry, but without that evidence this trial will be a travesty, plain and simple.”

Gomez-Larsen swiveled to check the clock at the far end of the courtroom.

“That’s my two minutes, Your Honor. Did I make it?”

“Twenty seconds to spare. Mr. Redpath, what do you say?”

Redpath was on his feet immediately. “I say, ‘baloney!’ This is just an attempt … Judge, may I request that counsel resume her seat while I address the court?”

Gomez-Larsen had remained standing by the podium, occupying the foreground from the judge’s perspective. She now nodded and returned to her seat. Redpath moved quickly to reclaim the podium and waved his hand back at opposing counsel, as though he might flick her away with his fingertips.

“This is just an attempt on the part of the government to slide in through the back door what they could not get through the front. They botched the search, and they’ve been trying to get this evidence in by hook or by crook ever since. Sandra’s comment was nothing more than an innocuous remark, something any husband or wife might say …”

“Oh, please,” Gomez-Larsen said, getting to her feet.

“Your Honor, where’s my two minutes?

“Proceed. Ms. Gomez-Larsen, I’ll hear you in a moment.”

“I say, again, it was innocuous. A remark made in passing. It didn’t prejudice the government at all. Beyond that, the statement was not responsive to the question before her. If it’s any problem, the remark may be stricken, and the jury ordered to disregard it on that basis.”

“Your Honor, may I be heard?” Gomez-Larsen broke in again.

“I’ve still got ninety seconds!”

“Wait, wait,” Norcross interposed.

After an indignant glance back at the prosecutor, Redpath continued. It was important that he take as much time as she did, and that he look angry.

“The whole point of this exercise, Judge, is not to put the alleged statement Sandra Hudson made during the search into evidence in order to show that the witness was supposedly lying when she said she and her husband had no secrets. The point is to get suppressed evidence, the fruits of an illegal search, before this jury. That’s not proper. It’s an out-and-out attempt to make Your Honor’s well-considered ruling meaningless, and you shouldn’t let the government get away with it.”

Redpath barely had time to step away from the podium before Gomez-Larsen was speaking.

“Your Honor, that’s not fair. We accepted your suppression decision. Frankly, I did think our argument that the agents were in good faith was more than colorable. Other judges might have bought it.”

“I doubt it,” Norcross interjected. “Anyway, you’re stuck with me.”

“I wouldn’t say ‘stuck’ exactly, Your Honor.” She paused for a beat to toss Norcross the smallest of smiles. “Anyway, whatever our disappointment, we’re living with the court’s interpretation of the law. Remember, though, that the price exacted by the Fourth Amendment in this instance was very high. Powerful, relevant evidence was kept from the jury. But to add to that a license to Ms. Hudson to testify falsely, to give the defense carte blanche to distort the truth. That’s going too …”

“Okay, pardon me, but I’ve heard enough,” Norcross interrupted. “Here’s what I’m going to do. We have to get going, or this recess will outlast a night in Russia. Mr. Redpath is right. The witness’s comment was not responsive to your question. I’m going to strike her answer and order the jury to disregard it, put it out of their minds.”

“Judge, they’ve heard it. No curative instruction is going to …”

“Nope, nope, nope. There’s no perfect way to deal with this situation, but as usual, I like my solution best. I’m going to strike the answer and instruct you not to question the witness either about the contraband found in the apartment, or her remarks in regard to it. That’s off limits.” Norcross turned to defense counsel. “Mr. Redpath, will the defense have any further witnesses after this one?”

“No, Your Honor.”

“Your client has chosen not to take the stand?”

“That’s correct. The defense will be resting at the completion of Ms. Hudson’s testimony.”

Norcross’s eyes shifted to Moon, who was staring at his folded hands.

“Mr. Hudson, do you realize that you have a right to take the stand and testify in your own behalf?”