Two days later, in the chambers of U.S. District Judge Robert Templeton, J.D. Blackstone was seated in one of the large red-leather chairs across from the judge’s expansive mahogany desk. Julia, as co-counsel, was seated next to him.
On the other side, also facing the judge, was Henry Hartz, along with another assistant federal prosecutor.
In two chairs in the far corner of the room were FBI special agent Johnson and DC Detective Victor Cheski.
It was Blackstone’s first day with his shoulder out of the sling. It was stiff, but he tried not to show it.
“Client not here?” the judge said with a measure of dissatisfaction.
“No, Your Honor,” Blackstone replied. “My client has signed a waiver. I’ve filed it with the clerk.”
“Yes, I know,” the judge said, still perturbed. “I’ve read it. But I can’t imagine a client in a death penalty case just choosing not to show up. Can you?”
“I’m not in a position, Your Honor, to detail our attorney-client conversations.”
“I’m not asking you to,” the judge snapped. “But for heaven’s sake, Blackstone. Can’t you control your client? Tell her she needs to be here. I don’t want some post-conviction motion being filed—if she’s convicted, I mean—arguing that she should have been advised of this or that in the pretrial conference.”
“That’s the purpose of a waiver,” Blackstone said with a small measure of condescension. “Waiver, being defined as the informed, voluntary, and deliberate relinquishment of a known right.”
“Don’t play law school with me,” the judge snapped.
“Mr. Blackstone,” Hartz said, interjecting with disdain in his voice. “Are you sure she is still in the jurisdiction? Has she fled from the country, perhaps? Jumped bail?”
“You’d love that, wouldn’t you, Henry?” Blackstone shot back. “That would do a nice job of bolstering your sagging little case.”
“Alright, that’s enough,” Judge Templeton barked. “Let’s get on with the business here.”
“Henry,” the judge said, turning to the prosecutor, “have you provided all the necessary discovery to Professor Blackstone?”
“We have, Your Honor.”
“Judge,” Blackstone interjected. “I still have two requests outstanding.”
“Which are?” Henry Hartz snapped.
“Well, first,” Blackstone said, “I asked for discovery relating to the drinking glass that the FBI 302 report of Agent Johnson says was on the victim’s desk.”
“You have a copy of the crime lab report,” Hartz shot back. “There were no fingerprints on that glass. So the glass is obviously irrelevant. What’s your complaint?”
“I would like to know where the glass went,” Blackstone said.
With that, Blackstone turned and looked behind him. In the far corner of the room, FBI agent Johnson was stone-faced. Next to him, Detective Cheski has a pleasant smile on his face.
“The glass is obviously in the evidence inventory,” Hartz said with a twisted smirk.
“Not according to your inventory sheet,” Blackstone replied. “It’s not listed.”
“You must have been looking at the wrong evidence inventory sheet.”
“Henry,” the judge said. “I want you to give an accounting of this drinking glass issue in forty-eight hours. In writing. To the court, and a copy to defense counsel. Okay, next?”
“My demand for exculpatory evidence,” Blackstone announced.
“There is no exculpatory evidence in this case,” Hartz announced brazenly. “Your Honor, this is one of the few cases I can remember where I couldn’t disclose any exculpatory evidence to the defense. The more we dig, the more incriminating evidence we find against the defendant, Vinnie Archmont. Rest assured, Judge, if we come across any evidence that tends to support in any way the innocence of the defendant, we will be sure and produce it to Mr. Blackstone.”
“Alright, next?” the judge said.
“The government’s witness list,” Blackstone continued. “I recognize every one of the witnesses on their list because they all testified in the grand jury—all, that is, except one.”
Then he lifted up the government’s witness list and tapped a name on the list with his pen.
“Who is this woman Shelly Hollsaker?”
Henry Hartz was silent. Then he explained.
“She is the person who overheard a statement made by your client.”
“I know that,” Blackstone volleyed back. “It says that right here on your witness list. I want to know who this gal is—stop playing games here, Henry.”
“She’s a prisoner,” Henry said. “In the lockup. She shared a cell with your client after her arrest.”
“And you don’t think the fact that a prosecution witness just happens to be a federal prisoner is exculpatory?” Blackstone said, his voice simmering with anger.
“Gentlemen,” the judge interjected. “Please. Actually, Henry, your description of the evidence you intend to elicit from Ms. Hollsaker is a little scant. Please submit a more exhaustive description of what she is going to testify to. In writing. Within forty-eight hours. Okay?”
“Will be glad to,” Hartz said with a smile.
“One more thing,” the judge said. “The media has now begun to file motions asking that the trial be televised. I don’t like cameras in my courtroom. You both know that. And the Court of Appeals has given us guidance on that too. So, before I render my decision on those requests, where do you stand?”
“The government is taking no position on that issue,” Hartz announced.
“The defense objects to cameras,” Blackstone said. “I think that juries can do strange things when they know they are being filmed. This is a capital murder case, not a TV reality show.”
“There, you and I agree,” the judge said. “Okay. I’ll be releasing my decision on that issue pretty soon. Anything else?”
Both attorneys shook their heads.
Judge Templeton dismissed them all.
Out in the corridor, on the way to the parking lot, Blackstone started bulleting out assignments for Julia.
“First thing,” he said, “I want you to do a complete public record check on Vinnie. All her vital statistics. Birth certificate. Verification of schooling. Landlord-tenant leases for her apartment as well as her art studio. Get a criminal background check, any civil lawsuit filing with her name on it, and a credit check. We have to screen her with a fine mesh. Anything negative in her background that we don’t know about, the government will, and Henry Hartz will destroy her with it if she testifies. And, of course, there is another reason for getting all of that together.”
Blackstone was now rolling at a fast walk, and Julia was having a hard time keeping up in her high heels.
“Yes, I realize,” she said, “why else we need it. For the death-penalty phase of the case if the government gets a conviction. I’ve been accumulating some of that information already. I’ll get the rest.”
“Second,” Blackstone continued, “I want you and Jason to schedule a mock cross-examination of our client,” he said. “Set up the video camera in the office. Get Vinnie on a DVD so I can study it. I want you to really lay into her. I have a feeling that won’t be hard for you,” he said, laughing. “I need to assess how she is going to hold up at trial if we decide to have her testify in her own defense. Then I’ll schedule my own additional testimony run-throughs with her after that.”
Julia was still walking next to him and giving him a polite but restrained nod as he talked.
Then she slowed down the pace to a halt. Blackstone realized it, and he stopped and turned around in the parking lot to face her.
That’s when she spoke up.
“I told you the other day that I was going to be making a decision…about continuing on with your office.”
“It’s not my office,” he blurted out. “It’s our firm. We’re partners.”
“Funny,” she said. “It never feels that way. Well, the point is this. I will help you through this Vinnie Archmont trial. That’s the least I can do for my legal mentor. But that’s it. I’ve pretty well decided that after the trial is over, I’m leaving the firm.”
“You’re kidding.”
“How can you doubt it—that I’m serious on this?” she said in disbelief. “I’ve spelled it out for you. I’m tired of being stepped on, and walked over, and—”
“Taken for granted?”
“Yes.”
“And not given ample professional encouragement?”
“Exactly.”
“And romantically jilted?”
Julia gave an open-mouthed gasp of exasperation.
“The truth is,” Blackstone said, “you and I had a very…good thing going, at least for a while…and then something happened. And it ended. I’m not sure why.”
“You ended it,” she said. “That’s what happened. And like a fool I stayed on at the firm with you, even after the fires of romance had all died out.”
“You’re no fool, Julia. You’re bright, talented, and beautiful. All that captivated me. But then…well, anyway, that doesn’t mean we can’t continue on as partners,” Blackstone said.
Julia stopped and lowered her head as she decided to select her words carefully.
“My decision is not emotional, J.D. It is purely professional. I am giving you notice.”
Julia turned and clip-clopped in her high heels over to her car where she beeped the door open, tossed her briefcase onto the passenger seat, and climbed in the driver’s side.