Jaywalker smiled wryly. This guy was good, he had to admit.
JAYWALKER: Was there even the remotest suggestion of violence or weapons in this particular case, at any point?
ST. JAMES: Counselor, in my line of business, violence and weapons are everyday things.
This guy was better than good. He was taking Jaywalkers best shots and not only parrying them, but counterpunching effectively.
JAYWALKER: Which is why I asked you about this particular case. Any violence in this one?
ST. JAMES: No.
JAYWALKER: Any guns-used, threatened to be used, displayed, or even hinted at?
ST. JAMES: No.
JAYWALKER: Still, this turned out to be one of those every once in a while cases where in spite of everything you tried, you never could make it even one step up the ladder?
ST. JAMES: Thats correct, Counselor.
JAYWALKER: By the way, do you see now why we call it a ladder? You have to actually do some work in order to get yourself up to the next level.
This time he did apologize, though it didnt stop Judge Levine from striking the comment, instructing the jury to disregard it, and wagging a this-is-your-last-warning finger in Jaywalkers direction. But hed made the comment because he was done and knew he couldnt get into any more trouble, at least for the moment. Turning from the witness, he said No more questions, and sat down.
By that time it was quarter of five, and rather than begin with another witness, the judge broke for the day. Only when the last juror had filed out of the courtroom and the court officers had led Alonzo Barnett back into the pens did she turn her attention to the lawyers.
Mr. Jaywalker- she began.
Here it comes, he thought. Apparently the final warning had been the one before the finger-wagging. So even Shirley Levine had finally had enough of his antics and was about to hold him in contempt, maybe even give him a night on Rikers Island to think things over.
-why are we trying this case?
-why are we trying this case?
Which caught Jaywalker so off guard that he laughed out loud. But as relieved as he was at avoiding jail time, he knew the judge hadnt asked her question out of idle curiosity. The truth was, thered been a time when hed thought about waiving a jury and opting for a bench trial. Judging from Levines question, he now knew what a mistake that would have been. But it was even worse than that. What Shirley Levine was implying-hell, she wasnt implying it, she was coming right out and saying it-was that two witnesses into the case, it was already clear that there was no theory under which a rational jury could possibly acquit his client.
A lot of lawyers would have answered her by deflecting the blame onto the defendant. What can I tell you? they would have said with a helpless shrug of the shoulders. My clients an absolute psycho who refuses to take a plea. But Jaywalker was decidedly old-school when it came to placing blame. He could still remember hearing his father tell him that a good carpenter never complains about his tools. Jaywalker had always figured that the same advice has to apply to pretty much every trade, including the one hed ended up practicing. A good lawyer doesnt complain about his client. You take what youre given, and you do the best you possibly can with it. And if you lose, you lose. Not just that guy sitting next to you.
Why are you tilting at windmills here? the judge was asking him now. Fighting against impossible odds? Here hed thought her earlier question had been nothing but a rhetorical one, a not-so-subtle suggestion that he sit down with Mr. Barnett and explain the odds to him. No, it seemed she really expected an answer from him as to why there hadnt been a guilty plea.
Because he began. But one word into his response, he realized he had absolutely no follow-up. There was no reason, when it came right down to it, except that Alonzo Barnett wanted a trial. Hed said that to his first lawyer, his second lawyer and his third. Their reactions had been simple. Theyd walked away from him as quickly as they could.
Jaywalker didnt walk away from his clients. Not even when they continued to make the same sort of self-destructive choices that had gotten them into trouble in the first place. But with Barnett, it was more than that. Here was a guy whod defied the odds and turned everything around. It might have taken him fifty years, but look at what hed done. Stopped not only using drugs but selling them, as well. Cut out drinking. Never missed an appointment with his parole officer. Found himself a decent job and an apartment to call his own. And the time hed had left over after those endeavors? Had he spent it hanging out with a bunch of junkies and ex-cons? No, hed devoted it to the two loves of his life, his daughters. In a word, here was a man whod done nothing less than completely redeem himself. And Jaywalker, whod be the first to tell you that he had no place in his heart for organized religion and no room in his thinking for the existence of a higher power, was nevertheless a believer in redemption.
A huge believer.
Then something had happened. Barnetts overblown, misguided sense of loyalty had betrayed him into believing he owed someone a favor, a favor that carried with it huge personal risk for him. That favor now threatened to undo everything hed accomplished and send him back to prison for the rest of his life. So what was Jaywalker supposed to do? Twist the poor mans arm to the breaking point until he hollered uncle and agreed to a slightly shorter sentence before kissing his daughters goodbye for the last time? No, he couldnt do that. Not if Barnett wanted to fight. What Jaywalker could do-in fact, the only thing he could do under the circumstances-was go to war with him and fight like an absolute madman until the last drop of fight was drained out of him.
Because He struggled to answer the judge again. Because Im a lunatic, okay? Tilting at windmills? Thats what I do for a living. Fighting against impossible odds? That happens to be my job description.
Any other judge would have turned sarcastic on him, agreeing with the lunatic part and ridiculing the rest of his little speech. Not Shirley Levine. Shaking her head sadly from side to side, she said, God bless you, Mr. Jaywalker. She said it in a voice so soft that the words had to have been meant for only him to hear. And in the often strange and lonely world that Jaywalker inhabited, those words fell on his ears like pure music.
10
Thursdays witnesses were members of the backup team, the task force officers whod conducted surveillance during the buys and arrested Alonzo Barnett. First up was a veteran DEA agent by the name of Angel Cruz. Cruz was a short, medium-complexioned Hispanic. Today, hed be a Latino. In his younger days hed done his share of undercover work, and Jaywalker had cross-examined him some years back in a federal trial down in Foley Square. That one had turned out well for Cruz and the government. For Jaywalker and his client, not so well.
Miki Shaughnessey wasted little time with preliminaries. Jaywalker had half expected her to begin with the time period prior to Agent St. Jamess entry into the case, back when the surveillance team watching the defendant had had no luck in observing anything resembling a narcotics transaction. But apparently Shaughnessey had decided to leave that time period to Jaywalker, preferring instead to get right to the sales themselves. And it was a smart decision on her part, Jaywalker had to admit. By zeroing in on the charges in the indictment, Shaughnessey would come off as focused and relevant in the eyes of the jury. Jaywalker, if he chose to backtrack into the period before the first sale took place-as hed done already to some extent with St. James-would run the risk of looking as though he was trying to divert the jurors attention and, worse yet, waste their time.
As a result, Agent Cruzs direct testimony took less than an hour. He described a team meeting conducted prior to the first buy, at which Agent St. James had been supplied with prerecorded bills. Then, keeping back a discreet distance, two teams of officers in unmarked cars had followed St. James and his Cadillac. At 125th Street theyd seen him meet a short, stocky, black man known at that time only as John Doe Stump. Stump had joined St. James in the Cadillac, and together theyd driven to 562 St. Nicholas Avenue, known from earlier surveillance to be the building in which Alonzo Barnett, also known as John Doe Gramps, lived. Both men had gotten out of the car then, although in cop-speak that came out as At that particular location and point in time, I did surreptitiously observe Agent St. James and John Doe Stump proceed to exit from the official government vehicle in which they had previously been present.
SHAUGHNESSEY: What, if anything, did you see?
CRUZ: I observed Stump walk over to another black male who was sitting on the stoop and engage him in conversation.
SHAUGHNESSEY: Do you know that mans name?
CRUZ: Yes. Ive since learned his name is Alonzo Barnett.
SHAUGHNESSEY: Do you think you would recognize that man if you were to see him today?
CRUZ: Yes. Thats him sitting right over there.
Jaywalker conceded that sitting right over there was the defendant. Shaughnessey asked her witness what had happened next.
CRUZ: After a minute or so, Stump motioned Agent St. James over and appeared to introduce him to Mr. Barnett. Then Stump walked away, out of my sight. After speaking together for a minute or so, Agent St. James and Mr. Barnett walked to the Cadillac and got in, Agent St. James behind the wheel and Mr. Barnett in the front passenger seat.
SHAUGHNESSEY: What happened next?
CRUZ: They started moving, and I followed them, a few cars back.
The Cadillac had continued to the corner of 127th Street and Broadway. There Barnett had gotten out and walked around the corner and out of sight, while Agent St. James had remained behind the wheel.
SHAUGHNESSEY: What did you do?
CRUZ: I remained in my vehicle and continued to watch the Cadillac.
SHAUGHNESSEY: Why did you do that?