Guilty As Sin

JAYWALKER: And what was that? What had you been told, and by whom?

BUCKNELL: Lieutenant…Lieutenant-

JAYWALKER: Pascarella?

BUCKNELL: Right. He told me to be very careful, that Mr. Barnett was a high-value target. And he didn’t want me to blow it by being too aggressive inside the building.

JAYWALKER: And you took that to mean “Don’t try too hard to identify which apartment he’s going to.” Right?

BUCKNELL: In a way. I suppose so.

JAYWALKER: Well, that’s exactly what it sounded like. Didn’t it?

Miki Shaughnessey’s objection was sustained, but not before the witness had already nodded his head and begun to agree.

The problem was, where did you go from there? Did you attack Lance Bucknell, accuse him of making up the business about having been up on the twelfth floor? In television and movie portrayals, witnesses were always breaking down and admitting they’d been lying. In real life, Jaywalker knew, that almost never happened. No matter how hard he went after Bucknell, the guy wasn’t going to fold. He couldn’t very well suddenly reverse course and say, “Oh, yeah, I lied about that.” To do so would cost him not only his job but several years of prison time for perjury. Besides, Jaywalker had nothing to go after him with. It wasn’t like he had a videotape of what had gone on inside the building. He’d already checked, and while there was a security camera, it was nothing but a dummy. All he had was his own client’s whisper in his ear that almost two years ago he’d gone to the eighth floor and not the twelfth. And while Jaywalker believed the whisper, it simply wasn’t enough to go on. Bucknell would duck and parry whatever Jaywalker could throw at him, and in the end, the jury would believe him and feel sorry for him, not to mention regard Jaywalker as a bully and take it out on his client.

So he thanked Investigator Bucknell and sat down.

It was only four-thirty, but up at the bench Miki Shaughnessey explained that she had only one remaining witness, the chemist, who was testifying in federal court and wouldn’t be available until the following morning. “I have another member of the backup team here,” she said, “but I’ve decided against calling him. I think his testimony would be nothing but cumulative.”

“Who is he?” Jaywalker asked. Cumulative was a funny word, he knew. It was supposed to mean that the witness wouldn’t really add anything new to the testimony. What it really meant, Jaywalker had learned over the years, was that the prosecutor didn’t want to call the witness because he might remember things differently from the way previous witnesses had remembered them.

“Detective Lopata,” said Shaughnessey.

“Give me a minute?” Jaywalker asked the judge. When she nodded, he went back to the defense table and found a file he had for Lopata. He pretty much knew the contents by heart but wanted to double-check, just in case he wanted the detective kept on call as a possible defense witness. But from scanning the reports, Jaywalker could see that Lopata’s testimony would indeed add nothing new. He’d counted out and photocopied the official advance funds, weighed the drugs and performed a few other administrative tasks. But in terms of surveillance, he’d stayed back in one of the cars during each buy and had seen nothing of interest.

So it didn’t look like Shaughnessey was trying to hide anything by deciding not to call him. If anything, it showed she was confident that her case was solid without him. And even Jaywalker would have had to agree. Three witnesses down and one to go, and he’d barely made a dent so far. And with the remaining witness being the chemist, what hope did he have? That he was going to be able to somehow show that it hadn’t been heroin at all that his client had sold, but baby powder?

Back up at the bench, Jaywalker told Shaughnessey that she could let Lopata go. Without a good reason for doing so, he wasn’t about to put some detective on the stand without ever having spoken to the guy. The upside was negligible, while the potential for getting clobbered was virtually unlimited.

But having only one prosecution witness remaining created something of a logistical problem for Jaywalker. As ready as he was to put Alonzo Barnett on the stand, he didn’t want to begin with him on a Friday afternoon, only to have his testimony broken up by the weekend. Worse yet, doing so would give Miki Shaughnessey two full days to refine her cross-examination.

“I’m afraid I won’t be prepared to go forward with the defense case until Monday morning,” he said.

The judge shot him a look. In all the years she’d dealt with Jaywalker, he’d never once been unprepared to do anything. Overprepared? Yes. Absurdly overprepared? To a fault. Like the time he’d convinced her he was fluent in Swahili because he’d corrected an interpreter’s translation of a witness’s answer. All he’d done, of course, had been to memorize what the witness had said at an earlier hearing in response to the identical question. But the word had quickly gotten around the courthouse that Jaywalker wasn’t to be fooled, not in English, Spanish, French, Italian, German, Hebrew, Yiddish, Creole, Patois, Hindi, Farsi, Mandarin, or any of a dozen other languages and dialects. While it was as far from the truth as it could have been, Jaywalker wasn’t about to deny the rumor.

“Monday it shall be,” said the judge, evidently knowing that, were she to push Jaywalker to begin earlier, he’d no doubt come down with a migraine, set off a fire alarm or pull some other stunt to get what he wanted. So she turned to the jurors and told them they’d be working only a half day on Friday.

From their reactions, you would have thought they’d been given a reprieve from a death sentence.

That night, long after his wife had kissed him goodnight and headed to bed, Jaywalker pored over his file on the chemist. Very few defense lawyers insisted that the chemist be brought in to testify. The vast majority were more than willing to concede that the drugs were heroin or cocaine or angel dust, or whatever the lab report said they were. Indeed, Jaywalker himself often stipulated to the same thing, especially in cases where he had a viable defense of some sort to focus on. But in this case he had no defense, viable or otherwise. So whether out of mounting frustration or mere stubbornness, he’d told Miki Shaughnessey some time ago that he wanted the chemist brought in to testify.

“Why?” she’d asked, the surprise evident in her raised eyebrows.

“Because,” was all the answer he’d been able to give her.

Now, as he reviewed and re-reviewed lab reports he’d already reviewed a dozen times before, he tried his hardest to find a legitimate reason that, at least in hindsight, might justify his refusal to stipulate as something other than mere childish petulance.

It took him until nearly three o’clock in the morning to find one, but he did. The problem was that by that time he was so exhausted that he had no way of knowing whether it was a meaningful point or not. He finally fell asleep, but not before wondering if all those other defense lawyers didn’t have the right idea. Instead of driving themselves relentlessly over every little thing, they conserved their energy so they’d be ready to recognize a real opportunity if one came along, then pounce on it. Jaywalker was too tired to recognize anything anymore, let alone pounce on it.

11

Chemistry lessons

Miki Shaughnessey’s direct examination of the chemist was as basic as it could be. The previous afternoon she’d asked Jaywalker what he hoped to accomplish with the witness, and Jaywalker had answered that he honestly had no idea. It had been a truthful response at the time he’d made it. Shaughnessey had then volunteered that she’d checked and found that most of her colleagues had never once had to call a chemist at trial, having relied each time upon the defense lawyer’s willingness to stipulate as to what the chemist would have said if put on the witness stand.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jaywalker had told her. “I’m just frustrated with your cops and agents. I want the jurors to hear what a truthful witness sounds like.”

“You don’t believe the cops have been truthful?”

“About the basics, sure. But,” he’d added, “not about some of the little things. Though I’m honestly not sure