Lisa Scottoline - Mistaken Identity

“The Court will hear from you in due course, Mr. Miller,” Judge Guthrie said, and Miller withered into his seat. “Now, Ms. Rosato, you have also requested that we bring down the defendant, Ms. Alice Connolly, and I granted that request, though the notice was short. You must know it was a great deal of trouble for the Court and the sheriffs.”

“I’m sorry the Court was inconvenienced, Your Honor. I didn’t have much notice myself and since this is a capital murder case, I was sure the Court would want the defendant to be heard.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Judge Guthrie said. He slid his reading glasses from his nose and waved at the deputy with them. “Perhaps we should have the defendant brought in. Will you, Mr. Deputy?” A courtroom deputy in a navy blazer disappeared behind a side door in the paneled wall and emerged a second later, followed by a Philadelphia police officer with a black windbreaker over his uniform and an earphone plugged into his left ear. Behind the cop walked Alice Connolly in her orange prison jumpsuit.

Bennie stood when Connolly entered, but Mary sat as if fixed to her chair, her eyes widening. Alice Connolly looked so much like Bennie she could be her twin. The defendant had a cynical smile, her hair was bright red and raggedy, and she was thinner, but her features looked the same. What was going on? Mary didn’t think Bennie had a twin, much less one accused of murdering a cop. This case was looking worse and worse. She grabbed her pen. Anybody got a match? I’ll bring the hair spray. It’ll only take a minute.

“You can seat the defendant with us, Officer,” Bennie said. “Right here.” She got up and pulled out the chair at counsel table next to Mary, who flipped a page in her legal pad quickly.

“Excuse me,” Miller interrupted, pulling out the chair next to him. “Ms. Connolly should be seated here, as I’m counsel of record.”

The cop glanced from one lawyer to the other, powerless to choose, but Mary couldn’t focus on the seating dispute, she was too distracted by Connolly’s looks. Didn’t anybody notice the similarity between the defendant and her new lawyer? The D.A. barely looked at Connolly. The lawyer from Jemison, Crabbe didn’t react. Maybe nobody noticed because the context was so different: Bennie was a prominent lawyer and Connolly a criminal defendant.

Bennie was standing before the dais. “Your Honor, I’m not going to fight over the physical location of the defendant. Mr. Miller seems to think that possession of Ms. Connolly makes him her lawyer, which of course it doesn’t. He’s welcome to sit with my client, with my permission.”

“So ordered,” Judge Guthrie said. “Mr. Deputy, you heard her.” The judge cleared his throat as the cop in the windbreaker escorted Connolly to Miller’s table, where she sat down. “Now that the defendant is safely ensconced, please explain your position, Ms. Rosato.”

“Your Honor, Ms. Connolly contacted me by telephone yesterday and requested that I represent her effective immediately. She has an unfettered right to counsel of her own choosing and I am happy to undertake the matter, on a pro bono basis, but I seek a continuance. The trial is set for next week. I am requesting a month postponement, Your Honor, so that I may prepare my defense.”

“Thank you, Ms. Rosato.” Judge Guthrie tilted his chair to face the Jemison lawyer. “Mr. Miller, may I have your comments now?”

The associate stood up, clutching an index card like a security blanket. “Your Honor, I, my supervising counsel Henry Burden, who unfortunately was called out of the country this morning, and the law firm of Jemison, Crabbe, were appointed by this Court to represent this defendant and have done so for almost a year now. There is no reason to remove us as counsel and no reason to delay this matter. We hereby oppose the request for removal and the request for a continuance.”

“Your Honor,” Bennie argued, “Jemison has no standing to object to defendant’s choice of counsel. Until now they haven’t shown even a modicum of interest in this defendant.”

“Settle down, Ms. Rosato. I have your argument.” Judge Guthrie eased his reading glasses on and peered at the case file, turning the pages with care. “Does the Commonwealth wish to enter into this fray?” he asked, without looking up.

Dorsey Hilliard rose heavily, slipped his aluminum crutches under his elbows, and walked to the podium. His suit shifted at the sleeves, unnaturally bunched around the crutches, but Hilliard’s handicap was otherwise not an issue. “The Commonwealth takes no position on Ms. Rosato’s entry of appearance. However, the Commonwealth strenuously opposes granting a continuance in this case at this late date. This matter has been the subject of six successive postponements, most by the defense. The People would not be served by a seventh. The Commonwealth is fully prepared for the upcoming trial and is ready to go.”

Judge Guthrie frowned. “How about it, Ms. Rosato?”

Bennie took the podium as Hilliard shifted to the right. “Your Honor, none of the delays have been at defendant’s behest and none were chargeable to her for purposes of the speedy trial rule. The defendant’s right to counsel of her choice and to a fair trial should not be jeopardized because of circumstances beyond her-”

“Wait a minute, please,” Judge Guthrie hushed her, holding a nimble finger over the papers on the dais. “The Court would like to consult the record on this. Perhaps it would save us some time.”

“Yes, Your Honor.” Bennie gripped the podium and struggled to remain still while the judge read. The restraint almost killed her. She considered silence an unnatural state for a lawyer.

“Let’s see,” Judge Guthrie said finally, still reading. “There are far too many continuances for a case of this gravity, Ms. Rosato.”

“I agree, Your Honor, but they appear to be the fault of current defense counsel, who have barely worked this case. The defendant shouldn’t be punished for her lawyer’s lassitude.”

Warren Miller shot between the two lawyers like a chaperone. “That’s not true, Your Honor. We have consulted, as needed, with the defendant. The continuances in the record were due to an illness of mine, then of Mr. Burden’s. One was because he was on trial on another matter. There’s no justification for removing us as counsel, Your Honor.”

“My, my. Please, all of you, take your seats,” Judge Guthrie said. The lawyers sat down as the judge focused his stern gaze on the defendant. “Ms. Connolly, it would appear that two skilled criminal lawyers wish to represent you. It’s an enviable position for someone accused of such a grave crime, and certainly rare, in my experience. Kindly take the stand and lend us some aid.”

“Yes, sir.” Connolly stood up, walked to the witness stand, and was sworn in. Bennie watched every move to try to determine what kind of witness she’d be, if she had to testify.

“Ms. Connolly,” Judge Guthrie said. “The Court would like to ask you a few questions to determine your wishes in this matter. As you know, this Court appointed one of the most respected criminal experts in this city, Mr. Burden, working with his associate, Mr. Miller, to represent you. Now Ms. Rosato tells us you wish her to act as your counsel. Is that truly your wish, Ms. Connolly?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Ms. Connolly, please state for the record why you wish Ms. Rosato to represent you.”

Bennie held her breath as Connolly answered. “I think Ms. Rosato cares more about my case than anyone and she’s a great lawyer. I trust her. We have a very close… trust.”

“Well. My, my.” Judge Guthrie paused. “There remains one question, Ms. Connolly. Why didn’t you raise this issue earlier? You’ve been incarcerated for quite some time.”