George Higgins - A change of gravity

The judge gazed at Bissell for a long minute. He gazed back without shifting his eyes. "My," she said, 'that's very ingenious, I must say.

You propose to bootstrap all of that stuff forward within the statute and nail Hilliard good, to punish guys who are dead1. Kill him because they got away? And make his best friend help with the execution? Is that all you have for us today?"

"It is, your Honor," Bissell said. "Frankly, I'm surprised we needed anything that this hearing, if that's what it is, was even held. In my experience the judge doesn't even get involved unless and until the immunized witness refuses to testify. Mister Merrion's not scheduled to come before the grand jury 'til next week. Who knows what he'll do then? He may not know, yet, himself."

"Yes," she said. "Well, I was also somewhat surprised Geoffd asked to_be heard. But then I said: "Geoff wants a hearing, and he's a good guy, so what the hey, give him a hearing." So Geoff, we're all listening."

"Your Honor," Cohen said, "I appreciate the court's kindness. I'll be brief. Congress enacted testimonial immunity to deal with frustrations encountered in prosecuting the Mob. It takes the Fifth Amendment out of play, to prevent underlings from shielding kingpins by claiming, correctly, that if they testify what the godfathers told them to do, they'll hang themselves at the same time, for doing it.

"Congress never meant to enable a prosecutor to do what this one wants to do: transform a man against his will into Judas Iscariot in order to conjure up charges against his friend. Mister Bissell by his own account has abundant evidence of what he calls tax evasion. More than enough to drag Dan Hilliard into court and see if he can persuade a jury to railroad the guy. He doesn't need to involve Ambrose Merrion, the man's very best friend, in this little manhunt of his. This's overkill, and plain meanness, nothing more."

"Geoff," the judge said, "I know how you feel. I know how your client feels, too: that he and Dan Hilliard did nothing wrong; all they did was become politicians and play what some believe is the headiest game in the world. They may be right. Never played the game, myself, but I've watched a lot of it; sure looked like fun to these eyes.

"But fun's irrelevant here. The law gives the US Attorney the power to grant immunity in any case he thinks appropriate. It gives the judge no discretion. If the US Attorney grants immunity, and the witness doesn't talk, I have to order the witness to talk, and if he wont, put him in jail.

"Them's the rules. If I thought that by letting you talk for another hour you'd come up with something to change that, I'd sit here and I'd let you do it. I'm sorry, but I don't.

"So: Mister Merrion, hear what I say to you. If, as and when you appear before the grand jury and are formally advised on the record of the grant of immunity; and asked questions; and you then refuse to answer, for any reason at all or no reason at all, the US Attorney will direct the US marshals to bring you before me. I will then inform you that you have valid privilege to remain silent, and order you to answer.

"You will be taken back before the grand jury, and if you do not answer then, we will meet for a third time. I will then find that by reason of your refusal to testify, you have placed yourself in contempt of this court. I will order the marshals to take you into custody and hold you to some convenient place of confinement until such time as you decide to obey my order to testify.

"Thus endeth the lesson; a hard saying to be sure, but as I told you, those're the rules we have here. Mister Cohen, do you or your client have any questions?"

Cohen sighed. "No, your Honor."

"Mister Merrion," the judge said, 'did your excellent counsel leave anything out that you would like to say now? Within the bounds of civility, of course don't want to take too many chances here."

Merrion had the thousand-yard stare of a man who'd stopped caring what he saw. He spoke off-handedly. "No," he said. "Just, I guess, that I'll see you next week. All of my life I've done what I can to protect people's dignity." Looking at Bissell: "I'm not going to give mine to him."

The judge pursed her lips. She looked at Bissell, already rising from his chair. "Nothing more from you, Mister Bissell, I take it?"

Bissell shook his head, smiling a parsimonious smile. "Not today, your Honor," he said. "Next week, I guess, unless Mister Merrion changes his mind, I'll have something more to bring before you. But no further business today."

The judge nodded. "Very well, then, we're adjourned. Liz, you are through for the day."

Bissell followed Robey to and through the doorway leading into the judge's office, Elizabeth Gibson with her machine three steps behind;

Merrion and Cohen were halfway there when the judge, still in her chair, halted all of them by saying: "Oh, Geoff, before you go, just one other thing I thought of here." Then as they all froze in mid-stride, she said: "No, no, all the rest of you can go. This's another matter that I need to talk about with Geoff. Nothing to do with the rest of you. This's about the real headiest game: I want to talk to him about basketball."

Cohen started back toward the table; the others resumed their departures. She gestured toward the door and nodded at him. He stepped over silently and shut it, returning to the table. He sat down again, looking quizzical.

"If this's about the Sanderson drug case," he said. She shook her head inquiringly. "Julian Sanderson? Cocaine? You drew it this week, I think."

She shrugged. "I think Sandy might've mentioned something about you diversifying into drugs," she said.

"Yeah," he said, 'well, I am, a little, but not with that case. I tried to make it clear to that new clerk in the magistrate session who doesn't seem awesomely bright, by the way — I was just there for arraignment. Coincidentally, he's the golf pro Bissell mentioned, has to moonlight tending bar but makes thousand-dollar campaign donations?

Haskell Sanderson's son. I cut the deal for the two smart-ass kids from Cannonball's who make the case against him. I think I might have a conflict of Ill interest representing the Sanderson kid. Too bad; nice fee in that case."

"Well, that wasn't what I had on my mind," the judge said. "Isn't that Bissell a stinker, though? Gracious, what a son of a bitch. I hated to do what I did."

"Yeah, Barrie, I know," Cohen said. "But I couldn't blame you. You had no choice in the matter." He chuckled. "When you asked me what I had to say, I had the feeling there was one person in the room who was hoping even more'n my client and I were that I'd be struck with some blinding flash of genius that'd vaporize Brother Bissell, and that was you."

She laughed. "Not far wrong," she said. "But look, I don't want to have to do next week what it looks like I'm going to have to, if things remain as they are. Put your man in jail."

"Ahhh," Cohen said, "I doubt it'll come to that. I'm going to call Bob Pooler, I get back to my office, tell him what a box that prick Bissell's put us in. See if he'll try to persuade Danny Hilliard to get ahold of Amby and convince him to talk. Pound it into his loyal old head there's no use both of them going to jail, and no way Amby can keep him out. And then do everything I can to make sure Bissell puts Amby on the stand at trial, so the best old friend an embattled politician ever had can lead that jury straight down the road to a sympathy-Not-Guilty, stick Bissell's case up his ass."

"I think he could pull it off," the judge said. "Let a jury watch Bissell strut around the courtroom for a week, they may acquit on the stairs. But I need more than your doubt that what I'm afraid of next week wont happen. I'm going to let Sandy know I'd better not draw Dan Hilliard's case. I'm not going to tell him the actual reason, but he'll know I'm depending on him to make sure it doesn't happen."