James Sheehan - The Law of Second Chances

“How ya doin?” Benny said pleasantly as he extended his hand.

This simple gesture melted Luis’s heart on the spot. “I’m doing okay. I’m a little nervous.”

“About being in a room alone with me?”

“Oh no, no-about your trial coming up.”

“Oh yeah, that. There’s nothing we can do about that. It is what it is.”

“Yeah,” Luis replied. There was an awkward silence for about thirty seconds.

“Listen,” Benny began, “I want to apologize for the way I acted last time I saw you.”

“There’s no need to apologize,” Luis told him. “You have a right to feel the way you do.”

“That’s just it. I don’t feel that way anymore. I’ve had a lot of time to think in here. And that new lawyer you got for me, Jack Tobin, and his partner, the big black guy, they said some things that made me think a little differently. You had your own shit to go through with the war and losing your best friend-”

“That’s no excuse,” Luis interrupted him.

“Well, I have no excuses either, Pop. I made a mess of my life too. If the war and losing your best friend isn’t an excuse for you, then you not being around isn’t an excuse for me. I’ve gotta take responsibility for my own shit. I’ve been a pimple on the ass of this world for too long.”

Luis wanted to recognize the significance of what Benny was saying-that he was taking ownership of his life. It was the first step toward any type of new beginning. But he couldn’t do it right away. For the moment, he could only focus on one word- Pop . Luis would polish that word, put it in his pocket, and take it with him from the prison that day. Over the next week as the pressure mounted, he would take it out and listen to its sweet sound and it would relax him. That one word made him a father again.

He addressed everything else a few seconds later.

“Benny, it’s a long life. We can stumble and bumble and make a mess of it all and still right the ship in the end. Look at me. I’m drug free. I have my own business. Look at Henry, the big black guy. He was on death row for seventeen years.”

“Yeah, I hear ya, Pop.” There it was again. “But I don’t think I’m gonna be getting any second chances anytime soon. I just want you to know that I appreciate what you’re doing for me. And I don’t want you to carry any guilt around with you if things go bad in that courtroom. I want us to make peace with each other right now.”

Luis didn’t know what to say. This was what he’d been hoping for for so long. This was a dream he’d thought would never come true. Tears filled his eyes. Try as he might, he couldn’t stop himself from crying. Once he started, it was like a dam bursting. Benny went over to console him. The guards at the window took notice of the contact. Benny put up his hand to let them know everything was okay. He held his father until he had no more tears left.

Back in his office in Bass Creek the next day, Jack called Mike McDermott, a civil trial lawyer in the city and an old high school buddy, to get the lowdown on Langford Middleton. He had to take some good old-fashioned ribbing before he got what he needed.

“Is this the famous Jack Tobin? The one who’s all over the newspapers in New York City? Would it be possible for me to get an autograph at some time?”

“You play your cards right, Mike, and I’ll see what I can do. Have your people call my people. We’ll do lunch and all that stuff. How are you doing?”

“Good, Jack. I’m not so sure about you, though. That’s a tough case you’ve got.”

“I hear you. As a matter of fact, that’s why I’m calling. I wanted to get the straight poop on Langford Middleton.”

“The worst judge you could get, bar none. He just can’t make a decision. I’m actually surprised you’ve gotten this far. He refuses to try most cases. He pressures the lawyers into settling.”

“I’ve heard that about him from the public defender, but that’s not the way he’s been handling this case.”

“That’s because he’s getting pressure. The wife of one of our associates is an assistant DA, and she says the DA himself went to see Middleton. The DA told Middleton if he even thought about continuing the case he’d go after him. I hear the Judicial Qualifications Commission is looking at Middleton too because of the complaints they’ve been getting. That’s one of the reasons they transferred him to criminal.”

“That’s why he won’t even think about a continuance. Well, at least we’re getting a trial. How would you propose that I handle him during the trial?”

“I’m not sure. Like I said, Jack, nobody has had much experience trying cases with the son-of-a-bitch. I know he’s sensitive about being appealed, so you may want to imply at every step of the way that you’re going to appeal his rulings. That’s a backhanded way of putting more pressure on him.”

“What about his ego? Does he like to be stroked?”

“He’s a really bright guy. He’s a little arrogant too. If you can appeal to his intellect you might win him over on a point. The biggest problem you have, as I already mentioned, is the son-of-a-bitch won’t make a decision. How in the hell do we get judges who can’t make decisions? That’s their job, for Christ’s sake.”

Jack didn’t have an answer for that one. He thanked Mike for his advice, and the two men agreed to meet for lunch soon.

“Oh, one other thing, Jack,” Mike added. “My office is a stone’s throw from the courthouse. Why don’t you come down here sometime before the trial starts, and we’ll get you a security clearance and a key and you can work out of here. I’ve got an extra office, a copier, fax, telephone-whatever you need. You can come and go at any time, day or night.”

It was a detail Jack had not thought much about. He needed a place to work from, and Mike’s office would be perfect.

“Mike, I’m definitely going to take you up on that offer. Thanks again.”

Jack had returned from San Francisco on Tuesday but didn’t call Molly and didn’t show up for breakfast at the Pelican the next morning, Molly’s last day in town. He assured himself that Henry’s remarks had nothing to do with his decision. He just wanted to slow things down a little. Molly had left a note for him with Hannah, and it included her address and telephone number. Please call me when you’re in New York , she wrote.

An envelope had been waiting for Jack when he arrived home, mailed from New York but with no return address. He’d opened it right away. It was Sal Paglia’s autopsy report, complete with gruesome photographs of Sal, his face bloodied, an exit wound in his forehead and two holes in his chest. Somebody is going to great lengths to scare me out of this case , Jack told himself. But it’s not going to work .

He called Henry right away and told him about the package. Henry agreed with his assessment. “They’re putting the heat on you, Jack. They’re asking you if you want to end up in a pool of blood like Sal.”

“Who are ‘they,’ Henry?”

“Good question: I have no idea, but I’m working on it. Listen, I know I got you into this, so hear me out. I wanted Benny to have a good lawyer, something I didn’t have. It shouldn’t mean your life, though-especially since he’s probably guilty. Jack, you should seriously consider dropping out.”

“That’s not going to happen, Henry, and don’t mention it again.”

“That’s what I thought you’d say. No, that’s what I knew you’d say. I had to bring it up, Jack. You understand.”

“Yeah, I do. Now let me bring something up. It’s your job to protect me, so don’t screw up.”