fighting for your life.”
The new arraignment was set for nine in the morning at the Municipal Court building, at the same department in which the original arraignment was held. Judge Barter drew the call again, and sat high on his bench, looking somewhat bored. Hellman disliked Barter, but made every attempt to mask his feelings. Hellman was known for his polite manners: no matter what a judge would say to him or his client, he was always respectful. Firm, but respectful. It was behavior of this sort that earned Hellman some brownie points when the score was close-and criticism from opposing counsel who knew exactly what Hellman was doing, but who were not nearly as adept at pulling it off. When Hellman did it, it sounded genuine; when others did it, it was transparent and contrived, and the judge usually admonished them for it in open court.
“Your Honor,” Denton said, “as you know, we have refiled the complaint against the defendant.”
“Proceed,” Barter said.
Denton arose and tugged on the bottom of his suit coat. “We have determined that circumstances exist which constitute abandonment with a malignant heart, section 830.2 A and B of the Penal Code. There are also grounds for two counts of leaving the scene of an accident.”
Barter removed his glasses. “Mr. Hellman, has your client been made aware of this refiling?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Does he understand the implications, counselor?”
“Yes, Your Honor, I’ve explained the situation to him. He’s well aware of the possibilities.”
The judge looked down at Madison for a moment, then nodded. “Very well.”
Denton arose again and straightened his suit. “Your Honor, the people request that bail be reconsidered in light of the new charges, and be upgraded to one million dollars.”
“Again with the million dollars,” Madison said under his breath.
Barter glared at him, then turned to Hellman. “Counselor, your response?”
“Your Honor, as I mentioned at the arraignment, Dr. Madison poses no flight risk. He’s married with two children, and not likely to skip town on them. Further, he’s a respected member of the community and would like nothing more than to clear his name and continue with the practice of medicine. In fact, he has several difficult surgeries scheduled. He wouldn’t abandon his patients.”
“Your Honor,” blurted Denton before Barter could rule, “the people believe that Dr. Madison does indeed pose a flight risk. More so than before, in fact. His wife and children have left him and moved to an undisclosed location. And his practice has been falling steadily-”
“Son of a bitch,” Madison yelled at Denton.
“Your Honor?” Denton shouted, looking back and forth between Barter and Madison.
“Enough is enough,” Madison said, his face red…his eyes boring into Denton’s. “I don’t have to take that-”
“Dr. Madison,” Barter said, “I’m not going to tell you again. If you so much as utter a word when not spoken to, I will have you removed from this court. And you should count your blessings that this is not the beginning of your trial wherein I’m the presiding judge.”
Hellman kicked him hard in the shoe with his foot.
Madison looked up at the judge.
“I will not have these types of disrespectful outbursts in my courtroom. Am I being clear?”
Madison nodded, took a deep breath. “Yes sir. I’m sorry, sir.”
“Good. Now, on the matter of bail, I believe that the sum of five hundred thousand dollars previously established is and was sufficient. Any objections, Mr. Hellman?”
“None, Your Honor,” Hellman said.
“Mr. Denton?” Barter asked.
Denton shook his head and the judge appeared satisfied. “Very well.” He banged his gavel and tossed the file aside.
Hellman gathered his papers together, then turned to Madison. “Phil-”
“I know, keep my mouth shut.”
“I had stronger words, but that’s the idea.”
“Sorry. This whole thing has really worn on me. Sometimes even I can’t believe my own behavior.”
“Well, hopefully this ‘thing’ will go away. Until then, don’t help Denton bury you. He’s taking notes on you, studying you. That comment about Leeza leaving you had nothing to do with the amount of bail he wanted-he was testing your reaction, to see how you’d handle pressure as a witness should I decide to put you on the stand.”
“It’s all a game to him, isn’t it?”
Hellman glanced over at Denton, standing forty feet away. “I don’t think he considers it a game. But if you want to use that analogy, then just remember this: he’s playing to win.”
The preliminary hearing was scheduled for five days following the arraignment. When the bailiff called Madison’s case, Judge Barter had been sitting behind his bench for three hours and was anxious to break for lunch. Hoping to dispose of the hearing with relative speed, he turned to Timothy Denton and nodded. “Mr. Prosecutor, I assume you have a few witnesses.”
“Yes, Your Honor,” Denton said. “We call Detective William Jennings.”
The doors in back of the courtroom were opened and Jennings appeared. Dressed in his usual wrinkled off- the-rack gray sport coat, he ascended the two steps to the witness stand and took a seat. After being sworn in, he faced the prosecutor.
“Detective, were you the investigating officer in this case?”
He nodded. “Myself, and Detective Angela Moreno. I was primary.”
“When you arrived on San Domingo Street, what was your impression?”
“The crime scene had been secured by Officer Sanford and looked to be in excellent condition. There were two dead bodies, apparently the victims of a hit-and-run. After evaluation of the physical evidence by a criminalist, and after speaking with an eyewitness, it was my impression that a crime had been committed.”
“How many homicides have you investigated?”
“I’m a homicide detective,” he said. “Hundreds.”
“Do these include hit-and-runs?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you,” Denton said as he walked back to his table. “That’s all I have.”
Hellman arose. “Detective, did you personally examine the physical evidence yourself?”
“No, I did not.”
“Do you have any witnesses that positively identified Dr. Madison as the driver of the vehicle?”
“No, we do not.”
“Did you get a description of the driver of the vehicle from any witnesses?”
“Yes, we did.”
“And what was that description?”
“That of a clean-shaven white male who was wearing a baseball cap.”
“Were there any distinguishing marks on the driver’s face, according to your witness?”
“No.”
Hellman paused a moment, appearing pensive as took a few steps toward Jennings. “I’m curious. What color hair did the witness specify?”
“He didn’t specify a hair color.”
“Did you ask him what hair color the driver had?”
“Yes I did.”
“And what did the witness say?”
Jennings’s eyes narrowed slightly as if he didn’t like the question. Hellman now stood in front of the witness box, waiting for an answer.
“He didn’t know.”
“So the witness did not see the driver’s hair, then.”
“No.” Hint of frustration in his voice.
“Hmm.” Hellman turned and paced a few steps, then spun around to face Jennings, ten feet away. He placed a hand on his chin, as if he were genuinely trying to figure this out. Although there was no jury present, Hellman
