granted anyway, and let's get on with it. But Miss Larkin, at a young age, had developed a nose for trouble, and she knew her limitations, which marked her as a potentially great attorney. She replied, 'Your Honour, will you instruct the deputy to call Mr Ferragamo's office and pass on my request for his presence? In the meantime, we can proceed.' Judge Rosen motioned to her courtroom deputy, who disappeared into the judge's robing room to make the call. I wondered how fast Ferragamo could run in wing tips.
I looked into the courtroom and saw that the word had gotten out and the room was packed. In the jury box were the three sketch artists, scratching away at their pads now. I brushed my hair with my fingers.
Judge Rosen said to me, 'Mr Sutter, go ahead and present your argument for bail.'
'Yes, Your Honour.' You could literally hear ballpoint pens clicking in the courtroom behind me. Courtrooms don't terrify me the way they do some lawyers. But in this case, I had some real anxieties, and the cause of those anxieties was not the audience or Miss Larkin or the judge, but my client, who wanted to be on his way in ten minutes.
I spoke in a normal conversational tone, but I sensed that I could be heard clear to the back of the silent court. I said, 'Your Honour, first I want to bring to your attention the fact that my client had previous knowledge, through the newspapers, that the U.S. Attorney was presenting evidence of murder to a grand jury. He made no attempt to flee during that time. And furthermore, anticipating that an indictment might be handed down and an arrest warrant issued, he instructed me to remain available in that event. He, too, remained available for arrest, and in fact, when the arrest came at approximately eight A.M. this morning, I was with him and can attest to the fact that he made no attempt to flee or resist.' I added, 'If the arresting officer, Mr Mancuso, is here, he, too, can attest to that.'
Judge Rosen looked toward the side door, then out into the court. 'Is Mr Mancuso present?'
A voice called out from the side of the court. 'Here, Your Honour.' As Mr Mancuso made his way through the standing-room-only crowd, I said to Bellarosa, 'They tried to send me to Brooklyn. Your buddy Alphonse is a snake.' He smiled. 'Yeah, we shoulda known they'd pull some stunt. I never got to FBI headquarters neither. Mancuso gets this call on the radio, and next thing I know, we're pulling up to the back of the courthouse. You see what I mean? Fucking Alphonse.'
Mancuso came through the rail and stood a few feet from us. Bellarosa said to me, loud enough for him to hear, 'They wanted to get you over to FBI headquarters where they were going to jerk you around until this was over in court. But I dragged my ass through the booking. Fucked up six sets of prints.' He laughed and poked me in the ribs. 'I knew you'd figure it out. You're a smart guy. Hey, we leaving here together?'
'Maybe.'
Judge Rosen said, 'Mr Sutter? Do you need a moment?' I turned back to the bench. 'No, Your Honour.' She said to Mr Mancuso, 'Please relate the circumstances of the defendant's arrest.'
Mr Mancuso did so, very precisely, professionally, and unemotionally, leaving out only the conversation that he and I had had regarding my midlife crisis. Judge Rosen said to him, 'What you're saying, Mr Mancuso, is that Mr Bellarosa appeared to be expecting you, and he made no attempt to flee or resist arrest.' 'That is correct.'
'Thank you, Mr Mancuso. Please remain in the court.' 'Yes, Your Honour.' Mancuso turned and looked at me, then at Bellarosa, but I could read nothing in his face but weariness.
He took a seat at the prosecution table.
Judge Rosen said to me, 'It appears that the accused made no attempt to resist or flee. However, I am not going to grant bail based solely on that fact. Unless you can convince me otherwise, Mr Sutter, and do so very quickly, I am going to order that the accused be taken to the Metropolitan Correction Center right now to await trial.'
We did not want that, did we? So I looked at Judge Rosen and said, 'Your Honour, I also want to bring to your attention the fact that my client has never been convicted of a violent crime in any jurisdiction. He has, in fact, no history of violence.' Someone in the courtroom laughed. 'Further, Your Honour, my client is a legitimate businessman whose' – I could actually hear some tittering behind me. People are so cynical these days – 'whose absence from his companies would impose an undue hardship on him, would interfere with his livelihood, and with the livelihoods of people who depend on my client for employment -' The laughing was becoming a little more overt now, and Judge Rosen, too, smiled, but then caught herself and banged her gavel. 'Order!' Miss Larkin, I noticed, was smiling also, and so was the court reporter, the two marshals, and the courtroom deputy. Only Frank and John were not smiling. Judge Rosen motioned me to approach the bench, and I did. She leaned over and our faces were only inches apart. We could have kissed. She whispered to me. 'Mr Sutter, at your request, I let you say your piece, but this is really very silly, and you're wasting my time and making a fool of yourself. Now, I understand the pressure you must be under to keep your client out of jail, but you can forget it. He can go to jail and await a more formal bail hearing where you may present more substantial evidence than your own characterization of him as a gentle man and a good citizen. I have a lot of arraignments before me today, Mr Sutter, and I'd like to get moving on them.' She added, 'A few days or weeks in jail won't kill him.'
I looked her in the eye. 'But it will. Your Honour, at least let me say what I have to say. Can we retire to your chambers?'
'No. Your client is not any different from anyone else who will come before me today.'
'But he is different, Judge. You know that and so do I. This courtroom is packed with newspeople, and they're not here to report on the general state of the criminal justice system. They have, in fact, been tipped off by the U.S. Attorney's office to be here at your court to see Frank Bellarosa led away in cuffs.' I added, 'The press knew before even you or I knew that Frank Bellarosa would be in this courtroom.'
Judge Rosen nodded. 'That may be true, Mr Sutter. But it doesn't change the charge or the general policy of refusing bail in cases of homicide.' Still tete-a-tete, I whispered, 'Your Honour, my client may or may not be involved in so-called organized crime. But if he is who the press alleges he is, you must be aware that no major figure such as Mr Bellarosa has fled U.S. jurisdiction for many decades.'
'So what?' She looked at me a moment, then said, 'Mr Sutter, I sense that you are not a criminal lawyer and that you are not familiar with Federal Court. Correct?'
I nodded.
'Well, Mr Sutter, this is another world, different, I'm sure, from the one you come from.'
You can say that again, lady. But good Lord, do I really look and sound like some son of Wall Street Wasp, or worse yet, a la-di-da society lawyer from Long Island? I said lo Judge Rosen, 'I'm here to see that justice is done. I may not know how things are usually done here, but I know that my client has a right under Constitutional law to have a fair bail hearing.'
'He does. Next week.'
'No, Judge. Now.'
Her eyebrows rose, and she was about to throw me out and put Bellarosa in the slammer, but as luck would have it, Miss Larkin interrupted. Obviously Miss Larkin didn't like all this talk that she couldn't hear, so she said, 'Your Honour, may I speak?'
Judge Rosen looked at her. 'All right.'
Miss Larkin came closer to the bench but spoke in a normal volume. 'Judge, whether or not the accused came into custody peacefully is not relevant in determining bail when the charge is murder. Nor is this the time or place to consider other circumstances that defence counsel might wish to put before the court. The government has reason to believe that the accused committed murder, and is a danger to the community, and has the resources and ample reason to flee the country if released on bail.'
Judge Rosen, who had had enough of me a minute before, now felt obligated, I think, to give the defence the last word before she kicked me out. She looked at me. 'Mr Sutter?'
I glanced at Miss Larkin, who still reminded me of Carolyn. I had an urge to scold her but said instead to her, 'Miss Larkin, the suggestion that my client is a danger to the community is ludicrous.' I turned to Judge Rosen and continued, loud enough now for everyone to hear, 'Your Honour, this is a middle-aged man who has a home, a wife, three children, and no history of violence.' I couldn't help but glance back at Mr Mancuso, who made a funny face, sort of a wince as if I'd stepped on his foot. I continued, 'Judge, I have here in this briefcase the names and addresses of all the companies that my client is associated with.' Well, maybe not all, but most. 'I have here, also, my client's passport, which I am prepared to surrender to the court. I have here also -' Just then, the side door swung open, and in strode Alphonse Ferragamo, looking none too happy. Ferragamo was a tall, slender man with a hooked nose set between eyes that looked like tired oysters. He had thin, sandy hair and pale, thin lips that
