'No.'
'Well, perhaps the district attorney's notice was mislaid amongst Mrs. Bertoli's voluminous paperwork,' the judge concluded wearily. 'Perhaps that is plausible. Then again'-he raised his eyebrows, his hairline lifting upward-'she may have seen said notice and not perceived its import.' The judge looked at Christina. 'Its importance to you, I mean.'
'Yes,' agreed Christina uncertainly.
'Mrs. Bertoli is well known to this court,' the judge continued. 'Her professional demeanor is well known and her habits are well known. That she has not contacted you is inexcusable. Yet she has been and no doubt will continue to be excused. She is a pack mule of excuses working in a pit mine of societal disinterest. We release unaccountability and irresponsibility from its natural ore, and we carry it to the surface and smelt it into the coin of chaos.' The judge sighed. 'I will stop there. The court officers have all heard my speeches. I will let that be my day's protestation. The court should not characterize the quality of defense counsel, it is true, but-'
'But we're among friends,' piped in the assistant district attorney.
The door opened and Mrs. Bertoli entered, followed by the detective. She flicked a cell phone shut and dropped it into her briefcase and walked officiously up to the front of the courtroom. 'Is this really a 440.10?'
'Yes, Mrs. Bertoli,' answered the judge. 'Let's go now.' He picked up his phone and muttered a word or two, and a court reporter entered and sat down at her steno machine. 'All right, then, Mr. Glass, I've read your statement. Your detective, Mr. Peck, is sure that he made a mistake with the identification?'
'Yes, Your Honor,' said the prosecutor.
'After more than four years he mystically realizes he made a mistake?'
'He was involved in ongoing police work,' answered Glass, 'and realized that there were several lost subjects in the undercover case involving Miss Welles. By that I mean unnamed targets of surveillance, and he realized that it was one of them in the truck on the day in question, and not Miss Welles.'
Christina cut her eyes at Peck. This was bullshit. Of course she'd been in the truck-that's where she'd been arrested. Peck blinked but did not change his expression.
'Miss Welles never confessed?' the judge asked, flipping over a sheet of paper.
'That is correct,' said Glass.
'There was no plea bargain, in fact?'
'That is also correct.'
'Has the lost subject from the original case been arrested?'
'Detective Peck informs me that an arrest is expected shortly.'
'What was Miss Welles's role, then?'
Glass looked directly at the judge. 'She was the girlfriend of one of the principals. That's all.'
'Your summary referred to some confusion over the method of communication used by the gang.'
'We thought she had something to do with it.'
The judge paused, then winced at some private thought. 'There was no confession, no familiarity with the line of questioning?'
'This was more than four years ago, Your Honor, but the answer is no. She never confessed to anything the whole time.'
'There was no prior record?'
'No.'
'No arrests at all?'
'Nothing.'
'Prison record was what?'
'Exemplary.'
'Is Detective Peck ready to answer a few questions?'
'Yes.'
The detective was sworn in. He had spent some time with his hair and necktie that morning.
'All right, explain this to me,' barked the judge. 'I'm surprised the newspapers aren't here. It's a good story.'
'That's because they never sent me any notice,' protested Mrs. Bertoli hoarsely. 'If they did, then I would have raised holy hell.'
The judge ignored her. 'Go ahead, Detective.'
'It's simple, Your Honor. We made a mistake in the identification. There was another woman involved in the smuggling-same weight, same coloring, height a little shorter. We didn't get much of a close look at her. We never heard her name. When we arrested Miss Welles, we thought that was the same woman. Miss Welles admitted she was the girlfriend of Rick Bocca, whom we suspected of masterminding the whole operation, but that was it.'
'Just the girlfriend?' the judge asked.
'Yes.'
'How much did she know?'
'She may have known a few things in a passive way, Your Honor, but she was not part of the planning. These were very professional people. Experienced, tough people. Bocca was well known to us. She was a young girl at the time, not a principal.'
I'm actually insulted, Christina thought, but she said nothing.
'Sort of a hanger-on-er, a girlfriend, something like that?' the judge summarized.
'Bocca had a lot of'-the detective hesitated-'bimbos, you could call them, I guess.'
'One of those appellations that are demeaning by their accuracy,' noted the judge. 'And though your terminology is vulgar, it is useful for its clarity. I believe I understand.'
I never got less than an A-minus in any of my courses at Columbia, Christina thought angrily, but then she remembered that Peck knew this, had even taunted her with it during the interrogation. Girl like you gets perfect grades, how'd you end up with Bocca? He was smart, this Peck, looking at the judge with a face full of contrition.
'So what was the error?' asked the judge.
'The problem was that the people actually doing the job got away-we could never make them that one time,' Peck recalled. 'All we had was a truck full of stolen air conditioners. After Miss Welles was arrested, they broke up or disappeared. We knew Bocca was guilty, but he moved out to Long Island and, criminally, went inactive. Just worked on a fishing boat. But I saw the lost subject on a stakeout a month ago and realized that I had ID'd the wrong woman.' Peck stopped for a breath. 'I had to be honest with myself. I had to really ask myself if I was sure. So I came to Mr. Glass, who was not crazy to hear it, of course.'
The judge nodded to Mrs. Bertoli. 'Go ahead, then.'
Mrs. Bertoli stood. 'Due to new information coming to the attention of the New York City District Attorney's Office, and pursuant to Section 440.10 of the New York State Criminal Code, I request an order from the court vacating the conviction of Christina Welles and her sentence.'
The judge turned to Glass. 'Any objection?'
'None, Your Honor.'
The judge sighed. 'Miss Welles, apparently the State of New York, and in particular the New York City District Attorney's Office, owes you an apology, as well as four years of your life. We can provide you the former but not the latter. Of course, the criminal justice system tries to do its best, but from time to time, very occasionally, there is a gross miscarriage of justice. This, I acknowledge, has happened to you. I am now'-he pulled out a pen-'signing this order vacating your conviction and sentence.' He looked up from the paper. 'Okay
… you are free to go, Miss Welles.' He nodded to the patrons, one of whom stepped forward and opened her handcuffs. Then she handed Christina the sealed envelope containing her identification and money.
Glass collected his papers and walked out, without so much as looking at Christina.
'Can I talk?' said Christina, checking that her money was still in the envelope.
'By all means,' said the judge, waving his hand.
'I'm free?'
'Yes. Right here, right now.'
She looked around. 'That's it? That's the whole thing?'
'Yes.' The judge picked up his telephone.
