Joseph Teller - Guilty As Sin

But look at him was apparently something Jaywalker was going to have to do. As soon as the jurors had filed out of the courtroom, it was Pulaski, and not Shaughnessey, who rose to address the judge and make the case for sealing the courtroom.

PULASKI: If it please the court, Captain Egan is here because I subpoenaed him. I did that out of an awareness of the People’s continuing obligation under Brady versus Maryland.

Under normal circumstances, this would have sounded like nothing but good news to Jaywalker. Under Brady, the prosecution is supposed to promptly turn over anything that might reasonably be regarded as exculpatory-in other words, helpful to the defense.

But these weren’t normal circumstances. First of all, this was the prosecution’s rebuttal case, and Miki Shaughnessey had already said that Captain Egan was there to put to rest any notion that the task force hadn’t tried hard enough to identify Alonzo Barnett’s source of supply, as well as any suggestion that Clarence Hightower was an informer. Beyond that, there was quite another reason for Jaywalker to be suspicious. Daniel Pulaski.

So Jaywalker listened carefully as Pulaski spoke, hoping for the best, but fully expecting the worst.

PULASKI: It has recently come to my attention that a witness called by the People earlier in this trial may have given answers that were less than a hundred percent complete. That witness, I have no doubt, was testifying in good faith and, to his credit, was doing his best to protect the identity of a confidential informer. But as a result of his testimony, the record as it now stands contains what I would characterize as a few minor inaccuracies. I subpoenaed Captain Egan so that we could correct those inaccuracies and set the record straight. However, in order to do that, it will be necessary for Captain Egan to name and reveal the cooperation of a highly valued confidential informer who continues to work with the police department in that capacity. For that reason, the People request that all persons not immediately involved in the trial be excluded from the courtroom during the balance of his testimony.

Jaywalker couldn’t believe his ears. He would have loved to believe that the prosecution was about to admit not a few minor inaccuracies but a lie that was so huge as to be absolutely verdict-changing. That in spite of all their denials and assurances, in spite of that official-looking form Pulaski had shown him weeks ago, Clarence Hightower actually had been acting as an informer when he’d approached Alonzo Barnett. And if that was so, then it had been entrapment, and the case had just gone from a dead-bang loser to a toss-up.

Which meant, of course, that it couldn’t possibly be true.

Pulaski was up to something. He had to be.

For confirmation, Jaywalker looked over at Miki Shaughnessey, suddenly reduced to the status of a spectator seated at the prosecution table. As soon as she caught his glance, she averted her eyes and devoted her full attention to playing with a paper clip.

She was being shoved to the sidelines.

And whatever witness had introduced the minor inaccuracies during the course of his testimony was being hung out to dry.

“Mr. Jaywalker?”

He looked back to the judge, who was evidently awaiting his response to Pulaski’s application.

“The defense objects,” he told her. Then he followed up with a pretty good three-minute, off-the-cuff argument against closing the courtroom.

Not too many years back, excluding the public for substantial portions of a trial was something done on a fairly regular basis. An undercover officer, an informer, a child or the victim of a sex crime was about to testify? Seal the courtroom. Standard operating practice. Then the Supreme Court, the real one, down in Washington, reminded everyone that under the Constitution a defendant was entitled not only to a trial but a public trial. Ever since, judges have been compelled to devise briefer and less restrictive alternatives than simply tossing everyone out and bolting the doors.

Which was the point Jaywalker made, with some degree of success. He made it succinctly, without being overly pedantic about it, and then he sat down. Shirley Levine didn’t need him to teach her the law. She continued writing for a minute before looking up and speaking.

“After full consideration,” she said, “I’ve decided that we’ll keep the courtroom open right up to the point where the witness is about to identify the informer. Then-” She looked from Pulaski to Shaughnessey and back again. “Which one of you is going to do the direct examination?” she asked.

“I am,” they answered in tandem.

“I am,” Pulaski repeated.

Jaywalker watched Shaughnessey as she silently bent the paper clip back and forth. He could imagine the metal growing hot to the touch. Finally it broke. “Mr. Pulaski is,” she said.

“Please let me know when we’re right at that point,” said the judge, “and we’ll ask the spectators to step out.”

Ask, not tell.

They don’t make judges like that anymore.

Once the jurors were back in their places, the trial resumed. The judge introduced Daniel Pulaski to them and explained that he’d be conducting the balance of Captain Egan’s testimony for reasons they shouldn’t speculate about. Miki Shaughnessey fumed silently. But Jaywalker, as sorry as he felt for her unexpected benching, couldn’t dwell on it. He was about to hear Clarence Hightower branded an informer. Wasn’t he?

PULASKI: Captain Egan, did there come a time when you learned that some slightly misleading testimony may have been given in this trial?

EGAN: Yes, there did.

PULASKI: And did you learn that from me?

EGAN: Yes. Apparently an officer who testified earlier in the trial had some concerns and reported them to A.D.A. Shaughnessey. As I understand it, she in turn took them to you. And you called me.

This was all improper testimony, as far as Jaywalker was concerned. Not only were the questions leading, but they called for hearsay. The right way to do it would have been to recall the offending witness and give him an opportunity to correct his misstatements. Still, there was a decision for Jaywalker to make, and make quickly. A good lawyer is someone who knows when to object. A really good lawyer is someone who knows when not to. And right now something in Jaywalker told him to keep quiet, that the ultimate payoff was going to be worth the see-what-good-guys-we-are preliminaries. So he let it go.

PULASKI: Who was that officer, and what about his testimony may have been misleading?

EGAN: The officer was Investigator Lance Bucknell, from the New York State Police. And the testimony in question was with regard to his following the defendant into a building located at 345 West 127th Street.

Shit, thought Jaywalker, angrily enough that for a moment he worried he might have said it out loud. This wasn’t going to be about Clarence Hightower at all. This was going to be about something totally different. Something that would benefit the prosecution and end up doing absolutely nothing for the defense.

Why should he have expected anything else from Daniel Pulaski?

PULASKI: Exactly what portion of Investigator Bucknell’s testimony may have been misleading?

EGAN: As I understand it, Investigator Bucknell testified that he got onto the same elevator as the defendant and saw the defendant press the button for the twelfth floor. That wasn’t entirely accurate.

PULASKI: What actually happened?

Again, this was all going to be hearsay, and Jaywalker could have kept it out had he wanted to. But not only was Egan going to tell the jurors that Bucknell had lied-or given slightly misleading testimony, to use his euphemism-he was going to tell them what had actually happened. What would the upshot be? Jaywalker had no way of knowing. All he could do at this point was tighten his seat belt and hang on for the ride.