And a Puzzle to Die On (33 page)

“Don’t be paranoid.”

“You paid her before and didn’t tell me. And she didn’t tell me. And you didn’t tell me I was having a birthday. You even sent me a murder puzzle to trick me into going down there. You’re not paranoid if people really are out to get you.”

“No one’s out to get you.”

“Right. The fact I’m a criminal defendant is entirely coincidental.”

“That’s hardly a conspiracy. You’ve been charged with stealing a dog. Why? Because you stole a dog. Boy, is that unfair.”

“Where is Fido, by the way?”

“The police have him.”

“I thought you were going to get him.”

“They wouldn’t give him to me.”

“The police are keeping the dog?”

“No, they’re boarding him at a kennel.”

“So pick him up there.”

“You think I didn’t try? The kennel owner would like to know on what authority I was taking the dog. I was hard-pressed to tell him.”

“Did you say the dog had been living at your house?”

“I did. The kennel guy wanted to know how long. My answer wasn’t good. Even in dog years, four hours is a pretty short time. It might have helped if I’d known the dog’s name. I had to keep referring to him as ‘Mrs. Thompkins’s dog.’ ”

“Jerk probably didn’t notice.”

“Jerk probably did.”

“What makes you think so?”

“He said, ‘You don’t even know his name, do you?’ ”

“How’d you bluff that one through?”

“I said, ‘No, what’s his name?’ ”

“That fool him?”

“I don’t think so. He hung up on me.”

“What’s the number?”

Cora called the Carlyle Kennel.

Mr. Carlyle was not moved. “Miss Felton, I can’t believe you’re asking for the dog. The reason the police boarded him here is because he’d been stolen.”

“Not at all. His owner got her throat cut. Don’t you read the paper?”

“Yes, I do. It says you’re the one who stole him.”

“Nonsense. I was given the dog to look after. This is just a misunderstanding.”

“Well, you can take that up with the police. Until I hear otherwise, Buddy’s staying here.”

Cora blinked. “Buddy?”

“His name is Buddy.” Mr. Carlyle’s tone was withering. “You didn’t even know that, did you?”

Cora Felton slammed down the phone and raced out the door.

Becky Baldwin’s smile was superior. “Cora. It’s a probable-cause hearing.”

“Yes, I know.”

“You can’t subpoena witnesses for a probable-cause hearing.”

“Why not?”

“It isn’t done.”

“It’s done if we want to do it.”

“We don’t want to do it. It won’t accomplish anything. All it will do is make me look like a rank amateur.”

“Whereas actually you’ve had decades of experience.”

“That’s not the point. The point is, we look bad.”

“I don’t care how we look. I want to get out of jail.”

“I understand. I hope you understand that Get Out of Jail Free card was not a license to order every legal procedure in the book.”

“You don’t want to do it unless you’re paid?”

“I don’t want to do it at all. It’s a terrible legal move.”

“I didn’t know this was a restricted gift. What legal procedures
am
I entitled to?”

“It’s not a matter of money.”

“You don’t care how much it costs?”

“I care how much it costs. It’s not a determining factor.”

“What is? Looking good?”

“It’s not a case of looking good, Cora. It’s a case of following proper legal procedure. Because if we don’t, the judge is going to shut us down.”

“I really think you worry too much.”

“Cora, do you know what abuse of process is?”

“It’s when you call witnesses for no particular reason. I assure you,
I
have a reason.”

“Could you tell me what it is?” Becky requested dryly.

“Probably better not.”

“Cora—”

“Hey, if you don’t know, it’s not your fault.” Cora smiled. “Becky, sweetie, just do what I say, and everything will be all right.”

“And just what do you want me to do?”

“I told you. Subpoena people.”

“Who?”

Cora considered. “Practically everybody.”

“What?”

“Well, I need them all there.”

“Why? What do you expect to prove?”

“That’s difficult to say.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not entirely sure.”

“Damn it, Cora, that’s
exactly
what is meant by
abuse of process. You can’t just subpoena people on a whim. The prosecutor will object, and the judge will demand to know what you expect to prove by the witness. If he doesn’t like your answer, you can go to jail.”

“Well, I’m already going to jail.”

“Cora, this isn’t funny.”

“Look, I need those witnesses. Can you help me out?”

“As your attorney, I advise you not to call them.” Cora nodded. “Okay. You’re fired.”

“What?!”

“I’m relieving you of your duties. You’re no longer responsible for my defense.”

“You’re
firing
your
pro bono
lawyer?” Becky said incredulously.

“What, I can’t fire you unless I pay you?”

“Hey, I’m not
refusing
to do what you want. I’m only advising against it. Why are you firing me?”

Cora smiled, and patted Becky on the cheek.

“Because I don’t want to get you disbarred.”

Judge Trilling looked down from his bench, shook his head, and sighed. It had not occurred to the venerable jurist to ban cameras from his courtroom. For a simple probable-cause hearing, there was no need. As a result, Rick Reed and the Channel 8 news team had commandeered the entire spectator section behind the prosecution table. A camera on a tall tripod straddled a row of seats, and an operator with a headset stood by ready to mount a stepladder when it was time to film. A handheld camera and sound crew snaked through the rows, scouting out locations to get the best shots. Since there were no jurors present, the crew had cast a covetous eye on the jury box, which would have had a better angle on the defense and prosecution tables, but the judge had drawn the line.

Also out-of-bounds was the section behind the defense table. That side of the courtroom was packed. Many of the people were merely spectators, but lots of them were witnesses. None of whom knew why.

Judge Trilling didn’t know why, either. Trilling
was, in fact, baffled. The defendant, a little old lady in Miss Marple tweed, looked incapable of speeding, much less the crime for which she was charged. Her defense attorney looked more like a fashion model than a lawyer.

Judge Trilling settled back on his bench, slapped on his most kindly but judicial smile, and said, “All right, what have we here?”

A.D.A. Goldstein rose, adjusted his tie, and cast a glance at the unruly scene across the aisle. His gaze was contemptuous. “
People vs. Cora Felton
, grand larceny, involving the theft of a purebred poodle valued at sixteen hundred dollars. Defendant has pled not guilty and requests the prosecution show probable cause.”

“Are you ready to proceed?”

“
We
are, Your Honor.”

“Is the defense ready?”

Cora Felton and Becky Baldwin rose.

“Yes, Your Honor,” Cora said.

Judge Trilling frowned. “Miss Felton, that question was directed to your lawyer. Please let your lawyer answer.”

“Yes, Your Honor,” Cora said. “The fact is—”

“Miss Felton, perhaps you did not understand me. I do not want a statement from you. I want to hear from your lawyer.”

“Yes, Your Honor. The fact is—”

“Miss Felton! I will thank you not to call me ‘Your Honor’ and tell me ‘the fact is.’ It is the height of rudeness, assuming I, a judge, need to be lectured on courtroom procedure. Am I making myself clear?”

“Perfectly, Your Honor. However—”

Judge Trilling banged his gavel. “That will do! Miss
Baldwin, I will thank you to control your client. Do you think you can do that?”

“No, Your Honor.”

Judge Trilling’s eyes widened in disbelief. “I
beg
your pardon! Did you just say
no
?”

“Sorry, Your Honor, but I am no longer Miss Felton’s attorney, as she has been attempting to tell you.”

“You are not representing the defendant?”

“That’s right, Your Honor.”

“Why? Why won’t you represent her?”

“She fired me, Your Honor.”

A loud murmur ran through the courtroom. The Channel 8 news crew filmed gleefully. The mobile team was torn between getting an angle on Cora and Becky, and focusing on the judge’s stupefied expression.

“If you are not representing the defendant, why are you here?”

“I feel ethically bound to offer what legal advice she might need in presenting her own defense.”

“
What
defense? This is a probable-cause hearing. You don’t put
on
a defense.”

“That’s what I told Miss Felton, Your Honor.”

“What did she say to that?”

“She fired me, Your Honor.”

Judge Trilling frowned. “Miss Felton, you claim you are acting as your own attorney?”

“That’s right, Your Honor.”

“I’d like to point out the folly of such a move. Granted, this is a preliminary hearing. Even so, you could get yourself in trouble. Has your lawyer advised you of the pitfalls of such actions? I mean, your former lawyer?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“Yet here you are.”

“Well, it’s just a probable-cause hearing. I don’t see what’s so hard.”

“It isn’t. Unless you’re not a lawyer.” Judge Trilling cleared his throat. “Miss Felton, it has come to my attention that you have served several subpoenas in this case.”

“I’m surprised you noticed. Like you say, it’s such a minor matter.”

“It has come to my attention because several people are not happy about it. Particularly the policemen you have seen fit to call into court.”

Cora shrugged. “Sort of goes with the territory, though, doesn’t it? If you’re a cop, you’re going to get subpoenaed.”

“Not by the defense in a probable-cause case. Which is in itself sufficient reason to show you need an attorney.”

“I fail to see why, Your Honor.”

“This is a probable-cause hearing.
You
don’t call witnesses. The
prosecution
calls witnesses. To show that there are reasonable grounds to proceed.”

“Yes, Your Honor. I’m going to show reasonable grounds that there
aren’t
.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Miss Felton, is this your first probable-cause hearing?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“Then perhaps you will allow yourself to be instructed. If not, you will be instructed anyway, but I would like to avoid unpleasantness. Am I making myself clear?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“Now, then. You do not
need
witnesses at a probable-cause hearing. You are
not
going to put on a defense.”

“I’m not, Your Honor?”

“No, you’re not. You therefore have summoned witnesses you do not need to call. There is a judicial term for such an action. Do you know what that would be?”

“Is Your Honor referring to ‘abuse of process’?”

“Yes, I am. Which is something I do not take lightly in my court.”

“I’m thrilled to hear it, Your Honor.”

“So, since this is your first probable-cause hearing, and you are perhaps overzealous, I would like to give you an opportunity to reconsider your position before such charges might be made. I am willing to quash these subpoenas without prejudice, and give you the opportunity to avoid the charge of abuse of process. With that in mind, Miss Felton, do you have any statement you would like to make with regard to the witnesses you’ve summoned here today?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“Proceed, Ms. Felton.”

“I want a bench warrant issued for the Carlyle Kennel.”

Judge Trilling could not have been more surprised had Cora ordered a pepperoni pizza. “You what?!”

“I have served the Kennel with a subpoena
duces tecum
, ordering them to bring a toy poodle into court, and they have failed to do so. I need a warrant.”

Mr. Carlyle, a lanky young man in the second row, stood up and adjusted his glasses. “That’s not true, Your Honor. The animal’s outside in my van. I can get him on a moment’s notice. But I see no reason to
subject a dog to these proceedings any more than is necessary.”