Guilty As Sin

partners or team, to make an arrest stand up here or a search pass muster there. In other words, they lied only when there was something to be gained by lying-or something to be hidden.

So what could they possibly be gaining by specifying that Alonzo Barnett had ridden the elevator to the twelfth floor, when he swore he hadn’t and they had no knowledge of where he’d actually gone? And what could they possibly be hiding by denying that he’d gone to the eighth floor instead, as he insisted he had?

16

All Cretans are liars

“The People call Thomas Egan,” Miki Shaughnessey announced once the trial resumed Wednesday morning.

For once, Jaywalker-whose organizational skills fell somewhere between extremely compulsive and certifiably insane-found himself at a total loss. He had no subfile for a Thomas Egan, no entry in his master index, no report of any sort. He’d never even heard of Thomas Egan.

“May we approach?” he asked Judge Levine.

Up at the bench, he took a page straight out of the Prosecutor’s Primer and asked for an offer of proof. Only he did it slightly less formally than Shaughnessey had with Kenny Smith.

“Who the f-is this guy?” he asked. Actually said it that way, the F standing on its own, just in case Shirley Levine might have been in a rare testy mood.

Shaughnessey was more than happy to comply. “Captain Egan happens to be the commanding officer of the Manhattan Narcotics Division,” she explained. “Just as he was in the fall of 1984, when this case was made. As such, he not only oversees all field operations but is the police department’s official custodian of all records pertaining to confidential drug informers. Mr. Jaywalker has suggested through his questioning that Clarence Hightower may have been acting as an informer.”

“May have been?” Jaywalker interjected, before Levine silenced him with a withering stare.

“He’s also insinuated,” Shaughnessey continued, “that the task force was remiss in failing to make a serious effort to identify the defendant’s source of supply. Captain Egan’s testimony will put both of those notions to rest once and for all.”

“Mr. Jaywalker?” said the judge.

Jaywalker could do nothing but stand there and shrug helplessly. The truth was, he’d never held out much hope that the whole twelfth-floor/eighth-floor business would fly with the jury, or that Hightower had truly been acting as an informer. But with nothing else to talk about, he’d been reduced to probing those possibilities. After all, the way the burden of proof operated, it wasn’t up to him to convince the jurors about anything on these points; it was up to the prosecution to dispel any lingering doubts as to the defendant’s guilt. Now Miki Shaughnessey was about to do just that, apparently, and in very impressive fashion.

It didn’t hurt that Captain Egan was an extremely good-looking man with a thick mane of silver hair and a pair of piercing Paul Newman blue eyes. Or that he was well-spoken, with an economy to his words, no trace of an outer-borough accent, and none of the usual cop-speak that infected the testimony of so many of his fellow officers.

Shaughnessey began her direct examination with a run-through of Captain Egan’s background and responsibilities within the police department. It was hard to tell which was more impressive. At one time Egan had aspired to be a priest, but the violent murder of a younger brother had steered him toward law enforcement. There he’d risen steadily through the ranks to his present position, accumulating a long list of medals, awards and commendations along the way.

Only when he sensed that Shaughnessey was done with the preliminaries and about to get down to business did Jaywalker pick up his pen and get ready to do some serious note-taking. By sitting back during the resume portion and trying to look mildly bemused, it had been his hope to suggest to any jurors looking his way that this was nothing but window dressing that had no real relevance to the case. The problem was that no jurors had been looking his way. All eyes were glued to Thomas Egan’s silver hair and blue eyes, just as all ears were attuned to his rich baritone voice.

Then, just when Jaywalker was prepared for the worst, Miki Shaughnessey surprised him again. “At this point,” she told the judge, “I think it might be best if we were to approach the bench.”

“Come up,” said Levine.

Once both lawyers and the court reporter had formed a semicircle in front of the judge, Shaughnessey explained that she had an application to make. “Captain Egan is about to name and discuss a highly valued confidential informer of the NYPD. In order to protect that informer from public exposure and possible retaliation, the People ask that the courtroom be cleared and the door locked for the balance of the witness’s testimony.”

Jaywalker was about to oppose the application, but Levine silenced him with a raised hand. Then she stood back and addressed the jury.

“I’m sorry,” she told them, saying the words as though she truly meant them. “But something has come up that requires me to confer with the lawyers at some length. I know it’s still early, but I’m going to have to excuse you for twenty minutes or so. Go have a cup of coffee, or take a walk around the block. Don’t discuss the case. Don’t speculate as to what we’re talking about. Just be back by eleven o’clock. Okay?”

She was answered with a chorus of sixteen “Okays” from the twelve regular jurors and the four alternates. Jaywalker forced back a smile. If all judges treated people the way Shirley Levine did, jury duty might cease to be thought of as a pair of four-letter words.

As he pivoted to walk back to his seat, Jaywalker got another surprise. During the colloquy at the bench, someone had quietly slid into Miki Shaughnessey’s chair at the prosecution table. It took Jaywalker a second to recognize him, but recognize him he did. Staring back at him was Daniel Pulaski, the assistant district attorney who’d had the case originally, before handing it off to Shaughnessey. Jaywalker, never a fan, gave Pulaski a perfunctory nod. As far as he was concerned, the man was a lowlife, a rarity in an office pretty much filled with decent people. Not only that, but he was nowhere near as good to look at as Miki Shaughnessey was.

But look at him was apparently something Jaywalker was going to have to do. As soon as the jurors had filed out of the courtroom, it was Pulaski, and not Shaughnessey, who rose to address the judge and make the case for sealing the courtroom.

PULASKI: If it please the court, Captain Egan is here because I subpoenaed him. I did that out of an awareness of the People’s continuing obligation under Brady versus Maryland.

Under normal circumstances, this would have sounded like nothing but good news to Jaywalker. Under Brady, the prosecution is supposed to promptly turn over anything that might reasonably be regarded as exculpatory-in other words, helpful to the defense.

But these weren’t normal circumstances. First of all, this was the prosecution’s rebuttal case, and Miki Shaughnessey had already said that Captain Egan was there to put to rest any notion that the task force hadn’t tried hard enough to identify Alonzo Barnett’s source of supply, as well as any suggestion that Clarence Hightower was an informer. Beyond that, there was quite another reason for Jaywalker to be suspicious. Daniel Pulaski.

So Jaywalker listened carefully as Pulaski spoke, hoping for the best, but fully expecting the worst.

PULASKI: It has recently come to my attention that a witness called by the People earlier in this trial may have given answers that were less than a hundred percent complete. That witness, I have no doubt, was testifying in good faith and, to his credit, was doing his best to protect the identity of a confidential informer. But as a result of his testimony, the record as it now stands contains what I would characterize as a few minor inaccuracies. I subpoenaed Captain Egan so that we could correct those inaccuracies and set the record straight. However, in order to do that, it will be necessary for Captain Egan to name and reveal the cooperation of a highly valued confidential informer who continues to work with the police department in that capacity. For that reason, the People