I explain to Vince that I’m on my way to court, and we agree to meet at Charlie’s tonight. I’ve got a bad feeling about this one.
Dylan is already in court when I arrive, but he glances quickly and then looks away as I enter. We are not going to be friendly adversaries during this trial, which is fine with me. I like to antagonize and annoy the opposing attorney in hopes of goading him or her into a mistake or misjudgment. It’s part of my style, and its effectiveness varies according to the opponent. Dylan has shown himself susceptible to this strategy in the past, so I’m not about to blow that potential advantage by getting chummy with him.
I work my way through the press and packed gallery to join Kevin, seated at the defense table. Seconds later Kenny Schilling is brought in. I usually like to talk to my clients before each appearance so as to let them know what to expect. I arrived too late to do so today, which is no tragedy, since this will be little more than a formality. Kenny’s role will be merely to sit and watch.
Judge Harrison comes in and immediately gets the hearing started. He’s basically an impatient man, and he usually presides as if he’s got a train to catch. Once Dylan and I are introduced as the respective counsel, Harrison says, “Talk to me, gentlemen.”
Dylan surprises me by requesting a gag order on all interested parties. It is clear that he considers Karen Spivey’s story, and the furor that followed, to be a negative for the prosecution. He wants the focus kept on Kenny as the only possible killer.
“Your Honor, the defense has been advancing wild theories in the press, which can only serve to pollute the jury pool,” Dylan says.
I’m torn here. Basically, I’d be fine with a gag order, since I’ve already put out Quintana’s name, and I have nothing to add to that. I’m questioning myself, though, trying to make sure that I am not subconsciously in favor of it so that I can more easily keep my deal with Moreno. Keeping that deal has the additional benefit of keeping me alive.
I stand. “Your Honor, the prosecution has been publicly proclaiming that my client is guilty since the moment of the arrest. The press coverage has been overwhelmingly in the prosecution’s favor. We would be in favor of the gag order as well; it’s too bad it couldn’t have been in place earlier.”
Dylan half whirls in surprise, not knowing what to make of this. I believe he had been hoping I would be opposed to the gag order and that Judge Harrison would be reluctant to impose it. This would have allowed Dylan to play the aggrieved party while still playing to the press every chance he got.
Harrison lets him off the hook. “Despite the apparent agreement on this issue by both parties, I am not prepared to issue the order at this point. But I do expect both the prosecution and defense”-he looks at the gallery-“as well as the media, to behave responsibly, or I will revisit the issue.”
Harrison announces his intention to set a trial date, and Dylan suggests the first week in November. That would be quick for a trial of this magnitude, which is why Dylan is again surprised when I propose the first week in September. Dylan is right to be surprised: It is straight out of Defense 101 to delay as much as possible. Unfortunately, Kenny did not take that course, and he’s insisted on his right to a speedy trial.
Harrison is also surprised. He’s six foot five, and from his position up on the bench it looks like he’s peering down from Mount Olympus. “Are you sure about this, Mr. Carpenter? That’s just six weeks from today.”
I decide to try to turn this negative into a slight positive. “Yes, Your Honor. Mr. Schilling wants to miss as little of the season as possible.” The football season starts around the same time as the trial will start, and I want any Giants fans on the jury to be keenly aware of their power to put Kenny back on the field.
Harrison handles a few minor “housekeeping” chores, then rejects my plea to set bail. I told Kenny that it was a formality, that there was no chance bail would be granted, yet I can still feel his disappointment when Harrison refuses.
I arrange to speak to Kenny in an anteroom for a few moments after the hearing. I tell him about the visit from Ugly and his comments that Kenny has something that belongs to Quintana.
“Man, Preston must have been in with some heavy guys,” Kenny observes with some pleasure. Kenny’s no dummy; he believes that the more dangerous Preston’s associates were, the more chance that the jury will believe they killed him.
“Do you have anything of his?”
He shakes his head. “No, man. I don’t have any idea what they’re talking about.”
I’ve given up trying to read the truthfulness of Kenny’s statements. I’m unable to do so, and it doesn’t do me any good anyway, so I just take them at face value.
I head back to the office to do some paperwork before going to Charlie’s to hear whatever disaster Vince has in store for me. Alone at the office is Adam, typing away on his laptop. I feel a flash of guilt that I forgot to invite him to the hearing today and that I generally have not been that accessible.
“How’s it going?” I ask.
“Great,” he says with characteristic enthusiasm. “I’m working on an outline. I read through most of the transcript of the Miller trial today.”
“What did you think?”
“You’re damn good. I couldn’t write you that good if I started from scratch. Lucky I don’t have to.”
“I could show you some other transcripts which wouldn’t impress you quite so much.”
“I doubt it,” he says. I like this guy more and more every day.
I decide to invite him to Charlie’s with Vince. He deserves some exposure to the inner workings of the case, and he’s sworn to secrecy, so it doesn’t seem as if it can hurt. He jumps at the opportunity. It’s hard to imagine an opportunity he wouldn’t jump at.
I check through my messages before we leave, just in case someone else has called to confess to the Preston murder. No such luck, and within a half hour Adam and I are in the car heading to Charlie’s.
On the way Adam says, “I need to create an arc for you.”
“An ark? Like a boat?”
He shakes his head. “No, a character arc. That’s all movie executives care about. The character has to change, develop during the script. Have an arc.”
“I pretty much haven’t changed since I was eleven years old,” I say. “Wait a minute… I just started eating mushrooms a few months ago. And I’ve got a couple of hairs growing on my left ear… that’s new…”
He laughs. “I don’t think that’ll do it.”
“So how can I help?”
“What about if you had a disease?” he asks.
“I don’t think I want to help that bad.”
“No,” he says, “what about if I create a disease for you to have while you’re handling the Miller trial? Life- threatening, but you don’t let it stop you. You’re fighting for your life and Willie’s at the same time, staring your own mortality and his right in the face.”
“How does that help you?” I ask.
“It’s a catalyst for your change… your arc. Gives you a new perspective… that kind of thing.
“I don’t like it,” I say, “but as long as the pipe is going to take the whole project into the sewer, I don’t care either way.”
He takes this as a yes. “You got any preference? I mean, for the disease.”
I think about it for a moment; it isn’t every day one gets to pick the ailment he will heroically fight. “Just something that doesn’t hurt and can’t be sexually transmitted.”
He nods. “That makes sense.”
* * * * *
VINCE IS WAITING for us at our regular table when we get to Charlie’s. He’s watching a Mets-Yankees interleague game on the large-screen TV, and the first thing I do is look at the score, which will be a sure predictor of his mood. Vince is a die-hard Mets fan, but the Yankees are ahead 5-1. It could get ugly.
At least for the moment Vince has nothing obnoxious to say, because he has a hamburger stuffed into his mouth. All of us, Laurie, Pete, Vince, myself… we all have different reasons why Charlie’s is our favorite restaurant. Vince’s reason is that when he orders a hamburger, they don’t assume he wants it with cheese. Other restaurants
