James Sheehan - The Mayor of Lexington Avenue

Jimmy DiCarlo was livid. “Your Honor, I move to strike the question and the answer.”

“Overruled, Mr. DiCarlo. Proceed, Mr. Tobin.” Jack couldn’t believe his string of good luck with the judge. Maybe Hang ’Em High Harry has an inkling these boys are guilty. He certainly knows the game they’re playing.

Jack decided to wrap it up there. The jury had to have the picture by now.

“No further questions, Your Honor.”

Jimmy DiCarlo was on his feet before Judge Stanton asked him if he wanted to cross-examine the witness. For a minute Jack thought he was going to walk up to Charley and strangle him. As it was, he stopped about two feet away from Charley’s face.

“Mr. Peterson, are you presently licensed to practice law in the state of Florida?”

“No.”

“Are you licensed anywhere?”

“No.”

“And the reason you’re not licensed is?”

“I was disbarred.” A collective gasp rose from the spectators’ pews, followed by scattered murmuring. Up until now the public had been largely silent. Jack looked at the jury and saw expressions of shock there as well. He’d thought about bringing the issue out on direct examination but had decided not to. It was an unforgivable mistake. Judge Stanton was rapping his gavel.

“Silence! Silence!” he shouted. “I’ll have everyone removed from this courtroom if I have to!” The murmuring stopped. “Mr. DiCarlo, you may proceed.”

“Thank you, Your Honor. And what were you disbarred for, Mr. Peterson?”

“Drunkenness.” There was another gasp from the pews. The judge rapped his gavel.

“I’m warning you, people.” But they were already silent again, some of them leaning forward expectantly, apparently eager for the next revelation.

“You were a drunk?” Jimmy DiCarlo proceeded. He was in Charley Peterson’s face now. Charley’s shoulders slumped.

“Yes,” he said quietly.

“And were you a drunk when you represented Rudy Kelly?”

“Yes.”

Jimmy DiCarlo walked back to his table and retrieved a document and handed it to Charley.

“Take a look at that document, Mr. Peterson. We’ve marked it as defense exhibit number one.” Charley looked at the document and then looked back at Jimmy DiCarlo.

“Before you came into this courtroom today several witnesses testified about the method Mr. Brume used to question Rudy Kelly. That document you now have in your hand is an order by Judge Wentwell, the judge in the Rudy Kelly suppression hearing, saying that you could put on evidence at Rudy Kelly’s trial about how his confession was obtained, is it not?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Did you put on that evidence? Did you call his principal, Mr. Yates, or his employer, Mr. Dragone, as Mr. Tobin did in this case?”

“No, I did not.”

“Wouldn’t that have been helpful to Mr. Kelly’s defense?” Jack had no idea where Jimmy DiCarlo was going with this line of questioning.

“Yes, it would have.”

“Did you fail to do that because you were drunk at the time?”

“Probably.”

Jimmy DiCarlo picked up the coroner’s report. “And this coroner’s report, which you just testified on direct examination was so flawed. So flawed that you had never seen anything like it in all your years of practice. Did you bring that to the attention of anybody at the time?”

“No.”

“Did you ask the coroner when he was on the stand where the rest of the report was-specifically the toxicology results?”

“No.”

“Did you ask the state attorney, Mr. Evans?”

“No.”

“And you didn’t do so because you were drunk at the time, is that accurate, Mr. Peterson?”

“Probably.”

“Did you participate in any of the appeals of Rudy Kelly’s conviction?”

“No.”

“But you knew there would be at least one appeal?”

“Probably.”

“Probably? Do you know of any first-degree murder case where there was not at least one appeal?”

“No.”

“So you knew there would be an appeal?”

“Yes.”

“Did you ever offer by affidavit or sworn testimony to anyone that you were incompetent at the time you represented Rudy Kelly?”

“No.”

“Ever at any time before Rudy Kelly was executed?”

“No.”

“You more than anyone were responsible for his conviction and execution, weren’t you, Mr. Peterson?”

It was Jack’s turn to jump up. “I object, Your Honor. Mr. Peterson is not on trial here.”

And it was Jack’s turn to feel Harry Stanton’s wrath. “Overruled. The witness will answer the question.”

“I guess I was,” Charley replied. He was now slumped low in the witness chair, his chin almost touching his chest.

“Has anyone charged you with a crime?”

Jack was on his feet again. “Objection!”

“Sustained. The witness will not answer that question,” Judge Stanton directed.

“I have no further questions for this witness, Your Honor,” Jimmy said with a sneer, turning his back on Charley and walking back to his table.

“Redirect?” the judge asked. Jack hesitated but only for a moment.

“Mr. Peterson, did Clay Evans know you had a drinking problem before the Kelly trial?”

“Yes.”

“How do you know that?”

“He said things to me over the years.”

“Like?”

“One time he told me he heard I was a pretty good lawyer until I climbed inside the bottle. Another time he told me that a client having me for a lawyer could kiss his ass goodbye.”

“And this was all before the Rudy Kelly case?”

“Yes.”

“So they were banking on you being drunk?”

“Objection.”

“Sustained. The witness will not answer the question.” But Jack had gotten what he wanted: He had to put that issue in the jury’s mind. You can’t unring a bell, Jack thought, remembering Jimmy’s own words from a couple of days before.

“No further questions, Your Honor.”

“You may step down, Mr. Peterson. Counsel, call your next witness.”

Jack looked at the bailiff, who let him know by shaking his head that Maria had not arrived yet.

“Your Honor, may we approach?”

“Come on,” the judge said, waving his arm at them.

When they reached the bench, Jack lobbied once again for the video confession of Geronimo Cruz. “Judge, I only have one more witness besides Mr. Cruz and she’s not here. We haven’t had any time to work out a stipulation of facts. The video confession is thirty-four minutes. I daresay that working out a stipulation and typing it up to read to the jury will take twice that long. So, using Mr. DiCarlo’s own concern for efficiency, it will be much faster to show the video deposition.”

The judge wasn’t in the mood for a long discussion. “All right, Mr. Tobin, put the tape in and let’s get it done. Your last witness better be here when it’s finished, though. If speed and convenience are the reason we’re using this tape, then you are not going to be able to delay this trial for one second because of a witness problem. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

After he had set the television in front of the jury and put the tape in, Jack motioned to Pat, who was sitting in the back of the courtroom.

“You’ve got to go to the hospital and find out what’s keeping Maria. If she’s not here in thirty minutes, this case is over.”

“All right, I’ll run over there,” Pat said, turning to go. Thank God she’s a runner, Jack said to himself. And that the hospital’s only three blocks away. Dick had their only car and he was already at the hospital. All Jack could do now was wait.

He concentrated on watching the jury as they watched Geronimo Cruz’s video confession. They were paying close attention, which was good. Now if Maria can only get here, we might convict these bastards.