I’d Rather Be in Philadelphia

 

Maura and Johnny got to the courthouse early the next morning and sat against the back wall of Courtroom 2 watching the proceedings before Griff’s arraignment.

“But, Papa, why are we here so early?” Maura asked like a little kid as she surfed the web on her smart phone.

“We are reconnoitering, which as a general rule involves much more watching than talking. In your line of work, I should expect you to be well acquainted with this immutable truth.” Johnny casually scanned the courtroom, watching the comings and goings of his fellow bar members attending to the docket of criminal hearings.

As the judge shuffled paperwork in the lull before Griff’s arraignment, the prosecutor handling his case came in and chatted with his colleague from the County Attorney’s office at the table on the right near the jury box before unpacking his briefcase.

Johnny perked up and nudged Maura.

“What?”

They watched the doors into the courtroom. There had been few visitors in the gallery for the series of motion hearings and arraignments. A clean-cut man in a dark suit, white shirt, and red tie came in, looked around, then sat against the back wall on the prosecution side of the courtroom.

“There. Him.” Johnny gave a slight nod in the man’s direction and stood up. “Come on.”

“What?” Maura followed Johnny up to the defense table but stood outside the bar.

“The Commonwealth versus Griffith Crowe,” announced the bailiff.

Johnny looked to the back of the courtroom. He whispered to Maura, “Get that fellow’s picture on your phone there. Be discreet, naturally.”

“Naturally,” Maura said. She looked over and saw Griff step up and fill the flat screen TV monitor positioned between the jury box and the witness stand. He stared intently into the camera, dressed in standard prisoner garb with horizontal orange and white stripes. “He looks healthy.”

“He better. It ain’t even been twenty-four hours, yet.” Johnny looked over to study Griff’s image. “I do believe you are correct about those stripes creating an illusion of enhanced girth.”

“And don't forget, the camera adds ten pounds, too.”

“Is the defense ready?” the judge asked.

“Just conferring with my associate, your honor.”

“Johnny? It’s good to see you,” said the judge. “Been a little while.”

“Judge Hemmings…” Johnny scowled toward Maura, then turned towards the bench with a huge grin. “I am downright tickled to be pleading before you in court again.”

“Yes. Well, I pray we will have no recurrence of the unfortunate incident as in the McGreevy trial.”

“Oh, no, your honor. I am only here in service of my client, Mr. Crowe.”

“Very well. And how is Patty Ann?”

“I regret to inform your honor that she retains that virulently nasty vein of surliness not yet mined out.”

“You know, somehow that pleases me to hear. We all have our crosses to bear.” The judge, who was nearly Johnny’s age, gave him a squinty-eyed smile, then put on a serious expression. “I do sorely miss Mrs. Leonard’s apple pie.”

“Everybody does.”

“William Sewell for the Commonwealth, your honor,” Griff’s prosecutor interjected.

Judge Hemmings and Johnny both looked at the younger man as if he had emitted audible evidence of a bodily function.

Maura snapped a surreptitious photo of the man Johnny pointed out and quickly sat down in the gallery row directly behind the defense table.

“Mr. Crowe, can you hear us?” Judge Hemmings asked.

“Yes, your honor.” Griff’s voice was thin and trebly over the link to the Campbell County Detention Center.

“Very well, I’ll call this proceeding in the matter of the Commonwealth versus Griffith Crowe, case number 17-CR-00074, to order.” The judge looked at the prosecutor. “Now, Mr. Sewell.”

“William Sewell for the Commonwealth, your honor.”

“E.J. Leonard, appearing on behalf of defendant Crowe. And the court may dispense with the formal reading, your honor.”

“As you wish. Let the record show the defendant waives reading of the charges.” Judge Hemmings looked at Griff. “Mr. Crowe, you are charged with violations of Kentucky Revised Code 507020, Murder, a capital offense, and Kentucky Revised Code 507030, Manslaughter in the first degree, a Class B felony, in the death of Wescott Eply. How do you plead to these charges?”

“Not guilty, your honor.”

“The Commonwealth is asking that the defendant be held without bail,” Sewell said. “You should have the Pretrial Services Officer report there before you.”

“Mr. Leonard, do you wish to be heard on the subject of bail?”

“No, not at this time, your honor.”

“Does your client wish to waive his right to a preliminary hearing?”

“No, your honor. I must respectfully disallow my client being slathered up with mayonnaise and mustard like the proverbial ham sandwich.” Johnny smiled and gave a sideways glance at the prosecutor. “Would tomorrow be too soon?”

“Tomorrow?” Sewell’s voice betrayed a hint of panic. “I just—”

“Now, Johnny…”

“Your honor, the evidence here is thin—dang near anorexic—there just ain’t no pork in the bun and…well, the quicker the sooner.”

Judge Hemmings shuffled papers around. “Very well, next Tuesday, the twenty-third. Ten AM.”

“Ten AM. Thank you, your Honor.” Johnny smiled across the aisle at Sewell.

“Adjourned.” Hemmings banged his gavel.

“Good to see you again, Judge Hemmings.” He looked to the back of the courtroom and made eye contact with the stranger in the suit.

“You as well. So, until next Tuesday.”

Johnny turned to Maura. “Did you get it?”

Maura held up her phone and nodded.

The prosecutor approached the defense table and held out his hand. “Bill Sewell, Mr. Leonard.”

Johnny’s handshake was far firmer than Sewell expected and elicited a slight grimace.

“I noticed your boss elected not to be here this fine morning—what this being a capital case and all. He must have great confidence in you, young man.”

“Yeah…I guess.” Sewell looked over at Maura.

“How rude of me,” Johnny said. “This is my associate, Maura Wiley.”

Maura gave the prosecutor a snake-eyed look.

“Pleased to meet you,” Sewell said with a leering smile but was dismayed that her grip was every bit as strong as Johnny’s. “Would your client entertain a plea deal?”

“Like what? Disturbing the peace with a fifty-dollar fine? Perhaps, but unlikely.”

“More like manslaughter with a sentencing recommendation.”

Johnny looked at Maura, then back at the prosecutor. “Enjoy your weekend, Mr. Sewell. We shall let you to it, as you surely have much to see to before next Tuesday. Come, Maura.”

Sewell watched them leave, then went back to the prosecutor’s table to pack up his files.

The man in the suit followed Maura and Johnny out.

 

***~~~***

 

“So, does this outfit make me look fat?” Griff tugged at the sides of his orange and white striped prison shirt when he came into the conference room where Johnny and Maura sat waiting at the Campbell County Detention Center.

“You look like a damned highway construction barrel.” Maura laughed.

“Thanks. It’s good to see you, too.” Griff winked at Maura as he sat down across the table from her and Johnny. “Boy, I have to say you guys sure seem to have a lot of friends behind bars here.”

“Son, take a moment for yourself to practice a measure of quiet reflection and recollection.” Johnny stared Griff in the eye. “Can you identify even a solitary soul hearkening from your new found community whose visage graces the wall of my office? I have certainly observed you perusing such with great intent on prior occasions.”

Griff shook his head. “Well, you two have quite the renown in that community.”

“And well we should. You have seen fit to retain a highly regarded legal professional, to which any of the Leonard Group customers and business associates currently enjoying the hospitality of the Commonwealth will gladly attest.”

“Business associates?”

Johnny sighed. “Surely you are aware that the best source of new clientele is word-of-mouth, and a highly proactive network of referral agents is an invaluable marketing tool.”

“Referral agents?”

“Yeah, you know, like Amazon Associates,” Maura said.

“Well, that might explain Johnny’s renown amongst my new…colleagues…” Griff turned to Maura. “But what about yours?”

Maura shrugged her shoulders and rolled her eyes innocently.

“Show him.” Johnny began a great show of pulling legal-sized file folders out of his brief case. He handed one to Maura.

“What’s all this?” Griff asked.

“Just for effect my boy. We have to make this visit look all official and sufficiently legalistic-like for benefit of watchful eyes.”

Maura pulled a printout of the picture off of her phone for Griff to see the man in the suit from court.

“You know this here fella?” Johnny asked.

Griff took the paper and studied the man’s face. He shook his head. “No. Why?”

“You good with remembering faces, are you?” Johnny asked.

Griff nodded. “Yeah. Part of the trade. I don’t recognize this guy, but he sure has ‘Men-in-Black’ written all over him.”

“He’s some kind of law enforcement. He was carrying inside the courthouse.” Maura noticed the questioning look on Griff’s face. “Part of my trade to recognize when someone’s packing heat.”

“And the only way to get one’s self by the metal detectors with a firearm is with a badge,” said Johnny.

“Well, he sure does have the stink of Fed on him. Let’s find out. Give me a pen.” Griff started writing on the back of the picture then handed it back to her. “Send this message to that number.”

Maura read what Griff had written out loud, “T—ID guy in pic ASAP for Captain’s Mast. ~Geronimo.”

“Geronimo?” Johnny asked.

“Yeah, not Tonto.” Griff gave Maura a sideways glance.

“Who’s T?” asked Maura.

“T-Rex. A connected guy who might be able to help.”

“But—”

“Trust me. I trust him.”

“Fair enough,” said Johnny. “Now, the next time you are afforded phone privileges, give your old pal, Lance, a ring. He will be expecting your call.”

“You’ve talked to him?”

“Just bear in mind that all calls are recorded, so be especially particular in your choice of words.”

Griff nodded.

“But be sure to inquire into the lovely and gracious Miss Nickolson’s well-being.” Johnny smiled.

Maura frowned.

“The pre-trial is scheduled for Tuesday morning at ten.”

Griff searched Johnny’s face for hope.

“Trust me.” Johnny started packing up his file folders again. He paused to give Griff a fatherly look. “How are you holding up, son?”

“All in all, I’d rather be in Philadelphia.”

Johnny smiled. “I cannot fathom why, but we shall see to it on Tuesday.”

Maura started to say something but stopped, smiled, and reached over to pat the top of Griff’s hand to reassure him.

Johnny got up and knocked on the door to get the guard’s attention.

They were shown out and Griff was taken back to his cell.

 

***~~~***