Maggie went into her briefcase and pulled out a file. She located a printout with a one-line description of all documents received from the District Attorney’s Office as part of discovery. She ran her finger down the column and then checked a second page.
“No, they’re not here,” she said.
I immediately stood up.
“OBJECTION!” I said with a fervor I rarely used in a courtroom.
Berg stopped in mid-question to Drucker. The judge startled as if the steel door to the holding cell had been slammed with great force.
“What is your objection, Mr. Haller?” she asked.
“Judge, once again the prosecution has willfully violated the rules of discovery,” I said. “The efforts to keep the defense from evidence to which it rightfully should have access has just been staggering in—”
“Let me stop you right there,” the judge said quickly. “Let’s not get into this in front of the jury.”
Warfield then told the jurors that court was adjourning for a short afternoon break. She asked them to be back in the assembly room in ten minutes.
We waited as the jurors slowly made their way out of the box and to the courtroom’s exit. My anger grew with each second of silence. Warfield waited for the door to close behind the last juror before finally addressing the situation.
“Okay, Mr. Haller,” she said. “Now speak.”
I moved to the lectern. I had hoped to manufacture a delay tactic that would push the most damaging part of Drucker’s testimony into Monday, when I would be able to address and mitigate it in a timely manner. I didn’t care whether the delay was legit, but I had just been handed a discovery violation that was as righteous as anything I could have imagined. I teed it up and swung hard.
“Judge, this is just incredible,” I began. “After all the issues we’ve already had in discovery, they just go and do it again. I have never seen these documents, they are not on any supplemental discovery lists, they are a complete surprise. And now they’re exhibits? They want the jury to see them but they never let me see them, and I’m the one being tried for murder here. I mean, come on, Judge. How can this keep happening again and again? And with no sanctions, no deterrent.”
“Ms. Berg, Mr. Haller says he hasn’t received this in discovery. What is your response?” Warfield said.
I had been aware the entire time I was speaking that Berg was leafing through a thick white binder that had the word DISCOVERY ON its spine. She was moving through it a second time, this time back to front, when the judge called her to answer. She stood and addressed the court from her table.
“Your Honor, I can’t explain it,” she said. “It was supposed to be in a discovery package delivered two weeks ago. I have someone checking the emails to defense counsel but this is the master list I’m looking at here and I don’t see the documents in question on it. All I can say is that it was an oversight, Judge. A mistake. And I can assure the court that it was not intentional.”
I shook my head as though I was being offered a deal on an ice-cube farm in Siberia. I was not impressed.
“Judge, oops is not a legal excuse,” I said. “I am unable to evaluate the authenticity, relevance, or materiality of these exhibits, nor am I prepared to confront and cross-examine this witness about them. I have been severely prejudiced in my ability to prepare and present my defense. The state’s lack of respect for my rights has to be corrected. Respect to the system, respect to the court, respect to the rules we all have to learn and must play by.”
The judge pursed her lips as she realized the discovery violation was confirmed and had to be dealt with.
“All right, Mr. Haller, taking counsel at her word, the violation appears to be a mistake,” she said. “The issue now, however, is how to proceed, and that depends on what this evidence means to the People’s case and the ability of the accused to confront the testimony and evidence against him. Ms. Berg, what is the relevance and materiality of this evidence and testimony? To what issue does it relate?”
“These are documents relating to Sam Scales alias Walter Lennon’s finances and bank accounts,” Berg said. “They are relevant to the defendant’s motive for killing him. They are crucial to the People’s case for special circumstances.”
“Mr. Haller,” Warfield said. “Would you please look at the documents provided to you and tell me how long you will need to review and investigate them?”
“Judge, I can tell you right now that I will need at least the weekend, possibly more, because the banks are closed over the weekend and my ability to investigate will be limited. But that is only one of the issues. These documents and the testimony related to them ought to be excluded from evidence. The prosecution, in its zeal to—”
“We’re losing the day, Mr. Haller,” the judge said. “Please get to the point.”
“Exactly,” Berg chimed in. “Judge, it is clear that counsel is engaged in tactics to delay the testimony of my witness. He would like nothing better than—”
“Your Honor,” I cut in loudly. “Am I missing something? I’m the victim here, and the prosecution is now trying to blame me for her malfeasance, intentional or otherwise.”
“It was a mistake !” Berg yelled. “A mistake, Judge, and he’s trying to make it look like the end of the world. He—”
“All right, all right!” the judge yelled. “Everyone just settle down and be quiet.”
In California, judges don’t use gavels—it’s supposed to be the kinder, gentler justice system—or surely the hammer would have just come down hard. In the silence that followed the judge’s outburst, I saw her eyes rise above the lawyers in front of her to the clock on the rear wall of the courtroom.
“It’s now after three o’clock,” she said. “Tempers are running hot. In fact, you both are bringing far more heat than illumination to this proceeding. I’m going to bring the jury back in and send them home for the weekend.”
Berg hung her head in defeat as Warfield continued.
“We’ll take this matter up Monday morning,” she said. “Mr. Haller, I want a submission from you to my clerk on remedies by Monday, eight a.m. You will copy Ms. Berg by email with a draft of your submission by Sunday evening. Ms. Berg, you too will file your submission as to why this evidence should not be excluded or why other proposed sanctions would be inappropriate. As I have repeatedly said in this courtroom, I take the rules of discovery very seriously. There are no honest mistakes when it comes to discovery. It is the backbone of case preparation, and the rules must be rigorously and jealously adhered to. Any infraction, whether intentional or not, must be seriously dealt with as a violation of the accused’s fundamental right to due process. Now let’s bring the jury back in here so they can get an early start on the weekend.”
I moved back to the defense table and sat down. I whispered to Maggie.
“Talk about falling in shit and coming up smelling like a rose,” I said.
“Glad now that I didn’t let you claim food poisoning?” she said.
“Uh, that falls under attorney-client privilege, not to be mentioned ever again.”
“My lips are sealed. I’ll write the motion and get it in. What about sanctions?”
“I feel like we just got them. Her putting this over till Monday is a home run for us.”
“So, no sanctions?”
“I didn’t say that. You never miss an opportunity for sanctions against the state. That’s just too rare to pass up. But I don’t want a mistrial, and if what the Iceberg says is true about the evidence being crucial to her case for special circumstances, the judge won’t exclude it. Let’s think about it some—we have the weekend. I’ll take the printouts and read it all over tomorrow, maybe get some ideas. Can you come to Twin Towers on Sunday to meet?”
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