Page 12 of Fade Out
“Darling, you picknowto sleep alone?”
“Believe it or not I didn’t know I’d need an alibi.” I leaned in closer. I didn’t want anyone to hear this part, “I’ve got a little money from selling Harker’s condo, but I won’t be able to go above a half a million.”
The state would keep ten percent of the bond, fifty thousand on a half-million. Fifty thousand that I’d never see again no matter what. Fifty thousand that I could also use to pay for my defense.
“We’ll worry about that when we get in there,” he said, which was very unlawyerly. Most of them wanted to know how they’d be getting paid before they’d even open a file. “Meanwhile, to convince the judge to keep the number low I’ll have to sing your praises while denying everything about the ASA’s case. Is there anything else you can tell me that will help me do my job?”
Unfortunately, I hadn’t recently saved any children from drowning, so there wasn’t anything I could add. I shook my head no. A bailiff came in from the court and began calling numbers, “158, 214, 377, 897, 1025.”
I showed Owen my forearm and said, “That’s me.”
“See you in a bit,” he said, scurrying off.
Once the lawyers were gone, the bailiff unlocked each of the lockups one at a time. Those whose numbers had been called stepped out into the area behind the lockups. I was last. We went through the door directly in front of us, putting us in a sort of gallery with a thick Plexiglas wall that was hazy and badly in need of a good cleaning. There were three rows of uncomfortable seating all bolted to the floor. Up near the ceiling were a couple of speakers so we could hear what was going on the courtroom.
The courtroom consisted of a row of seating much like the one we were sitting in, and two small tables very close together, one for the prosecution and one for the defense. An ASA sat at the table on the right with two filing boxes full of the day’s cases. Today’s ASA was a harried looking woman who appeared to be just out of law school. The frown lines on her forehead suggested she’d begun to regret her Juris Doctor.
The defense attorney, a young woman in a mannish suit, was talking as I sat down.
“Your honor, my client is the sole support of three small children. If he’s not granted recognizance he could possibly lose his job.”
The ASA spoke up, “The defendant is accused of breaking a stranger’s jaw in a bar fight. It’s reasonable to suppose he might come into contact with strangers again.”
“The victim threatened my client. He was only protecting—”
“Enough,” the judge said. He sat behind the only nice feature off the room, a polished mahogany bench that was raised up into the air and looked a bit like the bow of a boat. “Bond is set at twenty-five hundred dollars. Miss McNamara, suggest to your client that he enter a rehabilitation facility. I’m sure the state’s attorney would look favorably on that.”
The bailiff pulled a file from a large stack and called out, “Case 377.”
The ASA remained at her table, flipping quickly through her folders to find the case. Meanwhile, a different attorney stepped up to the defense table and opened his briefcase.
Before anyone could speak the judge said, “I think I know this person. 377 please stand up. A few seats down from me a scrawny black guy stood.”
“Yes, I remember you,” the judge said. “Heroin, isn’t it?”
“Your honor my client has a family—” his attorney began.
“Yes, I’ve let your client out on I-bond a couple of times. Bond is set at two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”
“What? Your honor—”
“No, no, no,” Case 377 started saying.
“Bailiff, inform the jail hospital that Case 377 will be detoxing there this weekend.”
“Yes, sir.”
“No, no, no.”
“Your honor this is—”
“Appeal the bond next week. If your client is sober and contrite we’ll talk.” He nodded to the bailiff, who pulled out another file and handed it to the judge. He called out, “Case number 1025.”
As that was my case, I barely noticed a bailiff coming to lead the sobbing Case 377 off.
“Owen Lovejoy, Esquire, for the defense, your honor.”
The judge took one look at Owen and very nearly rolled his eyes. That was not a good sign.
