James Sheehan - The Mayor of Lexington Avenue

The next day, the police chief received a hand-delivered letter from the judge detailing the whole incident and demanding that Wesley Brume be stripped of all authority to issue speeding tickets and that all his officers have explained to them the importance of ticketing people who actually were speeding. Needless to say the incident did not go over well with the chief.

The whole affair was also unknown to Clay, who sat supremely confident as he watched Tracey ask Wes one warm and fuzzy question after another. All that was about to change.

“Officer Brume, why did you pick up my client for questioning?”

That was an easy one for Wes. “He was identified by three people as a suspect.”

“Would those three people be Pilar Rodriguez, Ray Castro and Jose Guerrero?”

“Yes.”

“Is it accurate that you did not interview those three people?”

“Yes, that’s accurate. Officer Barbas interviewed them.” Everything seemed to be moving along quite well to Clay. The pace had a nice rhythm to it. Wes was answering the questions quickly and directly.

“I have Officer Barbas’s interview of the two men in my hands here. It says they described a tall man with black hair, is that accurate?”

“Yes.”

“So they didn’t identify my client?” Tracey said, staring intensely at Wes.

“No, but their identification was consistent with what he looked like and Ms. Rodriguez said the man who puked on her lawn looked like the boy who worked at the convenience store. She even said his name, Rudy.”

“But she didn’t see this person who looked like Rudy come from Lucy Ochoa’s trailer?”

“No.”

“And isn’t it true that she could not identify Rudy in a lineup?”

“That’s correct.” It was Clay who was glaring at Wes now. How could you not tell me something like that, you idiot?

Wes needed to redeem himself. “If I could explain.” Tracey knew what was coming. She had tried to use the fact that ultimately nobody identified Rudy without placing those facts in a time sequence. Wes was about to call her on it. “At the time we picked your client up for questioning, Ms. Rodriguez had said the man who puked on her lawn looked like Rudy and he also fit the description the other two men gave us. I believe that gave us enough reasonable suspicion to question him.”

“Did you read him his rights?”

“Of course. I had him sign a document explaining his rights.”

That was important to the judge. “Did you bring that document with you?” he asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“Let’s see it.” Wes showed the original to the judge.

“Is this your client’s signature?” he asked Tracey.

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“Then what are we doing here, Ms. James?”

“I want to show you how it was obtained and why it should be stricken.”

“Then get on with it, Ms. James. Stop wasting our time with these meaningless questions.” It was a definite slap, one Tracey was not used to receiving.

“Before you picked my client up, you talked to his high school principal, Mr. Bill Yates, is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“And Mr. Yates told you that Rudy had an intellectual deficit, that he couldn’t keep up with the other students academically, correct?”

“Yes.”

“They passed him academically to the tenth grade, although they shouldn’t have, but after that he just received an attendance certificate, correct?”

“Pretty much.” That answer wasn’t good enough for Tracey. Too much wiggle room.

“Pretty much? Is there anything in my question you want to qualify?”

“No, it’s correct.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“Did Mr. Yates tell you anything else about Rudy?”

“No.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“He didn’t tell you that Rudy was very affable, that he’d agree to everything you’d say; that in all fairness you shouldn’t question him without either his mother or a lawyer present-the principal didn’t say those things to you?” Tracey was starting to squeeze. The Grunt resisted, just as she had hoped.

“No. I don’t remember him saying anything like that.”

“You don’t remember him saying anything like that or he didn’t say anything like that: Which is it, Officer Brume?”

“Detective Brume.”

“Okay. Which is it, Detective Brume ?” She was getting under his skin already.

“He didn’t say anything like that,” the Grunt replied defiantly. This bitch wasn’t going to push him around. At counsel table, Clay put his left hand on his forehead. He knew what was coming.

“You picked Rudy up at the convenience store where he worked, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Did you speak to his boss?”

“Yes.”

“Was he reluctant to let Rudy go with you?”

“Somewhat.”

Tracey bit his head off again. “What does ‘Somewhat’ mean, Mr. Brume? Does it mean he was reluctant or he was not reluctant?”

“It means he didn’t want me to take Rudy at first but after we talked and I told him the importance of the investigation, he agreed that Rudy should go with me.”

“You mean he agreed after you threatened him with the health department?”

“That’s not true. I would never do that.” Wes didn’t dare look up at the judge. He had used those exact words before in a speeding hearing.

“Did Mr. Dragone want to call Rudy’s mother to let her know what was happening?”

“I don’t recall that.”

“Did you discourage him from doing that?”

“I don’t recall that.” Wes had hit on a new answer. He remembered a former president had used it very effectively.

Tracey kept the pace moving, mindful that the judge might wonder where all this was going. She picked up the police report from her desk, held it in her hand.

“So you took Rudy to the police department?”

“Yes.”

“And you began questioning him, correct?”

“Yes.”

“And according to your report, you began questioning him at 3:18 p.m., correct?” She showed him the report. Wes glanced at it.

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“And isn’t it true, Officer Brume, that before you started your interrogation of Rudy, his mother arrived at the station and demanded to see her son and that you not question her son without her being present?” The Fourth jumped to his feet. It was his first opportunity to stop Tracey’s rhythm.

“Objection, Your Honor. Compound question.” It was a valid objection but meaningless under the circumstances. There was no jury and Judge Wentwell certainly knew it was a compound question.

“Overruled. Proceed, Ms. James.”

“Do you need me to repeat the question, Officer Brume?” Tracey asked.

“ Detective Brume. No, I recall the question. To my knowledge the mother didn’t arrive at the station until I was almost finished with the interview.”

“When she did arrive, did she request that you stop the interview?”

“Yes.”

“But you didn’t?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“He’d agreed to talk to me. He’s an adult and she’s not a lawyer.”

“Did you tell him his mother was outside and she wanted to see him before he answered any more questions?”

“No.”

“Is that because you knew that he wouldn’t talk to you anymore if he knew his mother was outside?”

“No. I was almost finished anyway. At that point it wouldn’t have made a difference.”

“You hadn’t taken his blood yet, had you?”

“No.”

Tracey changed subjects again. “Where did this interrogation take place?”

“In the interrogation room at the police department.”

“I’ve heard about that room. It’s equipped with a television camera, is that correct?”