whether it was for corporate mismanagement or a sixteen-year-old girl
in the backseat. He didn't even bother introducing himself. He was
big enough in the civil litigation world that he assumed every lawyer
in the city already knew who he was and maybe he was right.
I checked my posture while I led them into the conference room. In my
sling backs, I edged out the notoriously napoleonic power broker by a
full inch. He straightened his trademark bow tie. I chose to
interpret the nervous gesture as a very small leveling of the playing
field.
Make that a very, very small leveling. Fish was ready to go the second
I shut the door.
'I won't take up your time, Ms. Kincaid, because I know you've got a
court appearance to prepare for. I was hoping I could convince you to
support Mr. Caffrey's motion to quash the subpoena. Duncan sounded
amenable to it when I spoke with him yesterday.'
I noticed that the spineless Mr. Caffrey had no problem letting his
attorney handle the talking.
'I believe what Duncan was amenable to was a meeting this morning at
seven thirty,' I said, glancing at my watch, 'as a courtesy to your
client. As you know, the decision whether to grant your motion is
entirely in the trial court's discretion.'
I had spent the early morning researching the issue. There was no
clear correct legal answer to Caffrey's motion. Most important from my
perspective, there was no risk the court's ruling on the motion could
lead to a reversal of Jackson's conviction down the road.
'It seems patently obvious to me, Ms. Kincaid, that it would be in the
government's interest to prevent this Mr. Sillipcow '
'Szlipkowski,' I corrected.
'Yes, this public defender, from deflecting the court's attention from
the very strong evidence against the defendant.'
'That's one way to look at it, but I plan on staying out of it.'
'I'm not certain how else one could possibly look at it.'
'Well,' I began, 'one might look at the defense's subpoena as an
opportunity to make certain the state's not missing something we should
know about prior to trial. If, for example, your client was having an
affair with the victim and I'm not saying that he was then one might
believe it better to get that news out in court during the prelim,
rather than having a desperate defense attorney leak it to the media in
the middle of trial.'
I watched Caffrey glance at his attorney. Clearly he could tell this
sit-down was going nowhere.
'Or perhaps,' I continued, 'one might see this as an opportunity to
make certain, outside of the presence of the jury, that the state isn't
missing some off-the-wall defense theory that might take off at trial.
Something like a connection between the victim being found in Glenville
and Mr. Caffrey's power to shape the future of suburban development
out there. I don't know, something like that. But, again, maybe it's
better heard now rather than later.'
I didn't take my eyes off Caffrey's face. Nothing.
I had no idea what his wooden affect said about his knowledge of the
case or any possible connection between Clarissa and development in
Glenville. But I knew one thing: I'd never vote for T. J. Caffrey,
whatever his politics. There was no doubt in my mind that this man had
some kind of relationship with Clarissa. I had spent the week watching
Tara, Townsend, and Susan struggle with their profound grief. But here
sat Caffrey observing this discussion like a Wimbledon match.
I excused myself to prepare for court and walked them to the exit.
News crews from all four local stations were waiting in front of the
Justice Center. Fortunately, they weren't allowed in the courtrooms,
so they only polluted what the attorneys said before and after the main
event.
Slip and Roger were giving competing statements. Slip was accusing the
police and prosecutors (I guess that would be me) of rushing to
judgment to comfort a nervous public that was demanding a quick arrest.
Roger, on the other hand, was grateful that the police had finally
gotten around to catching the right man.
When the cameras rushed over to me, I gave them the standard
prosecutorial line. We're confident about the evidence, wouldn't be
going forward if we weren't, blah blah blah. Because of the ethical
rules that govern the public statements of prosecutors, we never get to
say the good stuff.
Once we were in JC-3 before Judge Prescott, it was a whole other story.
In a prelim, the prosecutor runs the show, since the only relevant
question is whether the state's evidence, if believed in its entirety
by a jury, could support a conviction. Slip most likely would try to
get some free discovery by squeezing in as much cross-examination as
Prescott would tolerate, but he'd know there was little to gain by
grandstanding this early in the process. Roger was completely
