James Sheehan - The Law of Second Chances

Jack handed the motions for rehearing and recusal and the order of recusal to Judge Hendrick’s secretary and told her he was going to wait until the order of recusal was signed.

“I wouldn’t suggest you do that,” she lectured him, as only a judge’s secretary could do. “He’s got a busy day. He may not even get to it.”

“Well, ma’am, I have a client on death row who is scheduled to be executed in a week, so I’m not going anywhere until the judge looks at these pleadings. You tell him that.”

The judge’s secretary looked taken aback by Jack’s tone. She wasn’t used to being talked to that way by attorneys. It wasn’t Jack’s way either, but he didn’t have time to be polite. “I’ll tell him what you said,” she replied coldly.

“Thank you. I’ll be in the waiting room.”

Every half hour he walked into the judge’s outer office just to let her know he was still there and to remind her, in case she’d forgotten, that this was a pressing matter. Jack suspected that the judge had already looked at the motion, heard from his secretary how rude Jack had been, and was making him wait until the last minute. Some things were just so predictable, even when a man’s life was at stake.

Judge Hendrick called him in at 4:30.

“What is this, Mr. Tobin, some kind of joke? You don’t like my ruling so you move to have me recused?”

“Judge, I waited all afternoon because I need an answer now as to whether you’re going to sign this order or not. I didn’t expect to talk to you, and I’m uncomfortable stating my position on this matter when the state is not present.”

The judge ignored him. “I think your actions are despicable, Counselor. There is a finality to the law, and death-row inmates are not going to get out of their just deserts with shenanigans like this on your part.”

Jack had had just about enough. “Look, there is a motion in front of you and an order. I’ve attached a case from Polk County that is right on point where ten judges recused themselves when a colleague’s competence was questioned. I’ve got a wife at home sick with cancer and a client who is scheduled to be executed next week. With all due respect, Judge, I don’t have time to listen to your petty insults. Now make a decision: either sign the order or don’t.”

Judge Hendrick glared at Jack. There was a long silence while he appeared to be weighing his options. Then he turned toward his office door.

“Martha!” he yelled to his secretary in the other room. His door had remained open during the entire conversation: the judge had wanted a witness. “Get Wofford Benton on the phone.”

Wofford was waiting for the call. Jack had phoned earlier to say he was at the judge’s office, and Wofford had assured him that he would take the call no matter what he was doing.

“He’s on line one,” Martha shouted back to the judge a few moments later.

“Wofford, Arthur Hendrick here. I’ve got a motion for recusal on my desk and an affidavit from you. Mr. Tobin has been here all afternoon and he has been rather insistent. I would say rather insolent as well.”

“Well, Arthur, he’s insistent and probably insolent because a man that I once represented is about to die,” Wofford told his colleague, his voice booming on the loudspeaker phone. “Frankly, it was my idea to file the recusal motion. I made mistakes in that case, and I know you wouldn’t grant a motion for a new trial on that basis. So sign the order and let Mr. Tobin get on his way.”

Five minutes earlier, Arthur Hendrick had no intention of signing the order of recusal. Now he had Jack Tobin standing over him and Wofford Benton-whom he had called-telling him to sign it. He was boxed in pretty good.

Arthur Hendrick sighed heavily. “If you insist. . and because you insist, Wofford, I’m going to sign this order.”

He hung up the phone, signed the order, and handed it to Jack without ever looking up.

Jack left Judge Hendrick’s office on the run. He had barely enough time to take the order to the clerk of court, file it, get another judge assigned, and take the court file and the motion for rehearing to her office-only to learn that Judge Susan Fletcher had already left for the day.

“Much better!” Wofford told him later that evening. “Susan Fletcher has a good mind and she’s fair. The problem with her is that she’s disorganized and we’ve only got a week. Sometimes it takes her a week to tie her shoes. You’ve got to call her office every day, Jack.”

“Will do, Wofford. I’ll keep you posted.”

Pat and Charlie were having a grand old time back in Bass Creek while Jack was having it out with Arthur Hendrick. Their walk was short, mainly because Pat was tired. Then they sat out on the back porch by the pool drinking tea and catching up.

“How is that new guy you were dating-Ted?” Pat asked.

“Oh, he’s history,” Charlie replied. “It’s a shame how people who really seem promising end up disappointing you. I thought Ted was the real deal-handsome, generous, caring-everything you look for in a man but never seem to find. About week five, the whining started. He had to have everything his own way. And he was so tight his ass squeaked.”

Pat laughed. Charlie had a way with words. “Oh, that’s too bad. With your looks you’ve never been without suitors. Any new prospects since then?”

“None that have passed the initial sniff test. I guess I’m getting jaded. I just can’t stand to go out with a man who wants to do nothing all night but talk about himself. Ninety percent of them are like that, you know. The other ten percent are whiners like Ted.”

Charlie had succeeded in one of her goals: Pat was laughing. It was time to get serious for a moment.

“What are they telling you, by the way?”

“It’s not good. They say I have stage four cancer, which is usually terminal, but then they tell me I’m young and strong and don’t give up hope.”

“I didn’t know it was that advanced, Pat.”

“Yeah, it is. We haven’t given up, though. I can’t give up. I couldn’t do that to Jack.”

“I’m sure he’s a mess, the way he adores you. I’ve never had a man feel that way about me.”

“Yeah, I’m very lucky, Charlie. Jack is special.”

Charlie leaned across the table and took her best friend’s hands in hers.

“So is his partner.”

A few days after he had cut short his interview with Benny Avrile, Nick Walsh was called downtown to the office of Assistant Chief Ralph Hitchens. Tony Severino was with him when he got the call.

“I wonder what the fuck that asshole wants,” Nick said out loud.

“It’s probably nothing,” Tony replied, although Nick could tell from his tone of voice that Tony knew something.

“They could at least wait until the investigation is over,” Nick continued, now trying to feel out his partner.

“Well, you know the brass on the big ones-the ones where their ass is hanging out there on the line with the rest of us,” Tony quipped. “They want to declare victory at the earliest possible moment.”

There were more surprises awaiting Nick when he arrived downtown. He was ushered right into the assistant chief’s office, something that had never happened before in all his years on the force.

Ralph Hitchens was sitting behind his massive mahogany desk looking like an overnourished, stuffed turkey. He wasn’t alone. Another gentleman, dressed in a dark blue suit, was with him. As Nick walked in, Hitchens accomplished the very arduous task of getting out of his chair and shaking hands with him as if they were old friends. Nick instinctively tightened up. He knew something bad was coming.

“Nick, I want you to meet Spencer Taylor from the district attorney’s office. He’s going to be trying this case.” Taylor extended his hand and Nick shook it. He and Taylor had never met, but he had seen Taylor on television. Taylor was the chief assistant district attorney. He was not only their premier trial attorney, he was often the spokesman for the DA’s office when Warren Jacobs, the district attorney, didn’t deem the issue important enough to merit his personal appearance. To Nick Walsh, Taylor was a peacock-impeccably dressed, with a silky smooth voice that instantly made you want to check your pockets and tighten the belt holding your pants up. Well, they obviously think this is an important case , Nick thought to himself. They’re bringing out the big gun. But why am I meeting him now? The investigation isn’t over . Nick’s question would be answered momentarily.