Carasco was sitting in a courtroom on the fifth floor of the Multnomah County Courthouse, a brutish, eight-story concrete building that took up an entire block between Fourth and Fifth and Main and Salmon in downtown Portland. Mark Berman, Robin, and Erika took the elevator to the fifth floor. When they rounded the corner, Robin spotted a well-dressed, middle-aged African American woman sitting on a bench outside the courtroom.
“Thanks for coming, Dr. Langford,” Robin said.
“I hope I can help,” Langford answered. Then she smiled at Stassen. “How are you feeling, Erika?”
“I’m pretty nervous.”
“I’d be surprised if you weren’t.”
“Let’s go inside,” Robin said.
Carasco’s courtroom had high ceilings, ornate molding, marble Corinthian columns, and a polished wood dais. The spectator section consisted of several rows of hard wooden benches set back behind a low wooden fence that separated the public from the judge, jury, and attorneys.
Erika’s case was not high profile, so the only spectators were a few retirees who sat in on trials for entertainment. Mark Berman was along for moral support, and he and Dr. Langford took seats in the front row of the spectator section while Robin walked Erika through the bar of the court and seated her at the defense table.
“Wait here,” Robin told her client. “I’m going to see if we can settle this without a trial.”
Ian Hennessey was seated across from Carasco in the judge’s chambers. They stopped talking when the bailiff opened the door for Robin.
“Ah, Ms. Lockwood,” the judge said. “Come on in, and let’s see what we can do here.”
“Thanks, Judge.”
Carasco studied Robin for a moment. “I don’t think we’ve met before, but your name sounds familiar.”
Robin was certain that the judge was going to bring up her career as a professional fighter. Then he smiled and said, “You endorsed my opponent, Molly Devereaux, when I ran against her. Am I right?”
The inappropriate remark shocked Robin, but trial lawyers train themselves to show no emotion when the unexpected happens.
“Molly is a friend,” she answered, flashing her own smile.
“Of course,” the judge said. “So, Ian, have you made Ms. Lockwood a reasonable offer?”
“I think so. We have her client dead to rights. Officer Balske is a ten-year veteran who was undercover posing as a john. He’ll testify that the defendant offered to exchange oral sex for money. When Balske accepted, Ms. Lockwood’s client started to unzip Officer Balske’s fly, and Balske arrested him. I told Ms. Lockwood I would recommend probation if her client pleaded guilty, but she rejected the offer.”
“The offer seems reasonable,” Carasco said. “Why did you turn it down?”
“My client is a CPA with a good job and no priors. Very shortly, he will be going through gender reassignment surgery. I’m sure you can appreciate the stress he’s under. His firm is very supportive, but a conviction, even for a misdemeanor, could cost him his job. I was hoping for a plea that involved diversion and a dismissal if he successfully completes the requirements of diversion.”
“What do you say to that, Ian?” the judge asked.
“No go. I’m sure Stassen has been prostituting himself for a while.”
“He told me that he has never been in a situation like this before,” Robin said.
“I’d expect him to say that.”
“Do you have any evidence to the contrary?”
“Look, Robin, it’s plead or go to trial.”
“Then we’ll go to trial,” Robin said.
“You might want to take some time to think about how you’re going to advise your client, Robin,” the judge said. “He could be facing jail if he insists on wasting the time of the court with a hopeless case.”
“We don’t think it’s hopeless, Judge.”
“From what Ian said, it sounds open and shut.”
“We’ll let the jury decide that.”
Carasco shrugged. “Okay. Going to trial is a decision your client has to make. But you should make it clear to him that jail is a real possibility, and I don’t think someone going through a sex change would do very well in jail with all those predators.”
Carasco’s unethical and insensitive comments infuriated Robin, but she controlled her temper. “I don’t think it’s appropriate to prejudge a sentence before hearing the facts.”
Carasco smiled and held out his hands in a show of innocence. “I have no opinion on a sentence. How could I? As you said, I haven’t heard the evidence. I’m just advising you about one possible outcome if your client insists on a trial.”
Robin decided that she had to get out of Carasco’s chambers before she said something she would regret.
“Let me talk to my client and see what she wants to do.”
“Good,” said Carasco. “Unless I hear you’ve accepted Ian’s offer, I’ll call for a jury in twenty minutes.”
Hennessey waited until the door closed behind Robin. “Judge, I’m pretty new at this. After the trial, would you have the time to tell me what I did right and wrong?”
Carasco was about to turn down the request, when he got an idea. “Sure, Ian,” Carasco said. “We can talk after everyone leaves.”
Hennessey walked out, and Carasco looked in his direction, but he wasn’t really seeing him. What he did see was a future where he was free of his wife.
The judge and Hennessey had chatted while they waited for Robin, and Carasco learned that Hennessey was single. As soon as he’d found out that Robin Lockwood was representing the defendant, the judge had planned to punish her for supporting Devereaux by making this trial as hard for her as possible, but now he changed his mind. He decided to let the trial run its course. It might even work to his advantage if Lockwood won. After giving his idea more thought, Carasco phoned Stacey Hayes.
“What happened?” Erika asked.
“I’ll tell you in a minute, but I’d like to get Mark’s input before we discuss what we should do,” Robin
