Blind Justice (6 page)
I HAD TO let Lindsay Patino know the reality of her brother’s situation.
I also wanted to see her again.
As soon as I got on the freeway I called the work number she had given me that day at the hospital. A young lady answered, “Agoura Academy.”
I asked for Lindsay. The young lady said she was in class.
“This is kind of an emergency,” I said, which was only about one-third true, even though it was an emergency of my own making—I had decided I needed to talk to her
now.
now.
“Who’s calling?”
“Tell her it’s her brother’s lawyer.”
“Oh, I’ll get her right away.”
A few minutes later Lindsay came on the line. Her tone was frosty. “Yes?”
“Hi, we just finished the arraignment.”
“And?”
“I’d like to talk to you about it.”
A pause. “When?”
“How about in the next hour?”
“I’m teaching.”
“You have to eat lunch.”
“It’s in a brown bag.”
“It’s very important that I talk to you. I have a lot of things to explain.” I added, “And I thought, why not make it a pleasant -experience?”
“All right. I’ll meet you in front of the school at 11:45 A.M.” She gave me directions and hung up.
For the next forty-five minutes, as I drove south, I was in a very good mood. I found that curious. I hadn’t been in a good mood in a year.
The Agoura Academy, a private K-12 school according to the sign, was on a nice piece of property about half a mile south of the freeway. Architecturally it looked Ivy League. Lindsay was standing in front of the entrance of the main building, talking to another woman. When she saw my car, she gave the other woman a pat on the shoulder and walked over.
“Hop in,” I said.
She did.
“Is there a place around here you like?” I asked.
“There’s an Italian place about a mile from here.”
“Italian it is.”
Three minutes later we pulled into a mall parking lot near Amato’s Italian Kitchen. Lindsay didn’t speak a word until we were seated at a table with a black-and-white checkerboard tablecloth.
As soon as we sat down, Lindsay said, “I’m sorry I got so upset with you in your office.”
“It’s all right.”
“It isn’t. I was very upset, but that’s no excuse. I’ve got a bit of a temper.”
“I’ve been known to lash out myself.”
“But that doesn’t mean I’m any less concerned about how you handle Howie’s case.”
“Understood.”
A waiter arrived, and I ordered a beer. Lindsay ordered a Coke. As she did, I swiped a long look at her. She was ravishing, and while it’s not the most romantic of memories, I think I fell in love with her the moment she said, “With a slice of lemon, please.”
“So you’re little Lindsay,” I said.
That finally got a smile out of her. “You remember?”
“Sure. You had buckteeth and freckles.”
“Major buckteeth.”
“You used to follow us around, Howie and me. You had this squeaky little voice.”
“Was I obnoxious?”
“Yes.” I was relieved when she blushed and smiled. “But it’s obviously worn off. And no more buckteeth.”
“Orthodontia,” she said.
“Now you’re a teacher?”
“Fourth grade.”
“How long?”
“This is my third year.”
“Why not public school?”
“Because public schools in California restrict teachers too much.”
“How did you come to this career choice?” I asked.
“I felt called to it.”
“Well, why not? It’s an honorable profession.”
“Why did you go into law?” she asked.
“Money,” I said.
“I don’t believe that.” She was looking at me the same way she did at my office—like she could see into corners I was trying to keep hidden.
“Anyway,” I said, “I can certainly think of several hundred other things that probably would have been better to go into.”
“Like what?”
“Dog catcher, for instance.”
She smiled. “You’re a cynic.”
“Maybe. But that’s the kind of world we live in. At one time I thought the law was a great and glorious thing, able to hold society together and bring justice to people. You get disabused of that notion real quick.”
She thought about that for a moment, then said, “Is that why you’re so ready to make Howie plead guilty?”
Now it was time for my lecture. “I really want you to understand the way it works, Lindsay. Remember, Howie’s my friend from way back. I only want what’s best for him. And that means getting him through this with the least possible pain.”
She listened, looking skeptical.
“Howie is facing a lot of pain in terms of jail time. Possible life sentence. What I’m trying to do is reach an agreement with the prosecutors that will lessen that significantly. The hard reality is, he’ll have to do time. The crime is just too heinous to avoid it.”
Lindsay flinched a little. I said, “I don’t know why Howie would be driven to do something like that. I mean, who really understands the human mind? But it happened, and we just have to deal with it.”
“What about the possibility that he didn’t do it?” Lindsay said forcefully. “Has anyone looked into that?”
“Howie confessed, Lindsay. He’s admitted it.”
“You must know that people have been known to confess to crimes they didn’t commit, for a variety of reasons.”
“Where did you pick that up?”
“I read, Jake. There was something in the paper not too long ago about this. A study by a couple of psychologists showed that false confessions are a big reason for innocent people being locked up.”
“Yes, I—”
“And one reason was what they called ‘internalized confessions,’ where an innocent person comes to believe he actually did something he didn’t do because of police coercion or guilt or something else.”
“I think I—”
“And the most susceptible to this type of confession are people who are of lower intelligence, subject to suggestion, and highly trusting of people. All of which Howie is.”
Finally, she paused for a breath. “That may all be true,” I said, “but there is no evidence of it in Howie’s case.”
“Have you looked for the evidence?”
I shook my head.
“All I’m saying is I know Howie. I know him better than anyone. He was always innocent and trusting and never violent. Never. He cried once when he accidentally killed a butterfly. He was twenty years old.”
That seemed like the Howie I had known.
“There’s no way he would kill his wife.”
I said, “You mentioned in my office that she might have deserved it.”
“I was angry when I said it.”
“But it had some truth?”
“She was a terrible person.”
“That’s important to know. Even a sweet, good-natured dog can bite if provoked.”
Lindsay shook her head. “Not Howie.”
“Tell me about his wife.”
“Oh, boy.” She leaned back in her chair as if to gather strength. “I don’t know where to start. No one wanted him to marry her, but he fell hard. I mean, Howie never had girlfriends growing up. So when Rae came along and actually made out like she liked him, it was all over.”
“If you don’t mind my asking, what was in it for her?”
“I don’t mind. I’ve asked myself that over and over. I wish I knew more about Rae’s background, where she came from, her family and all that. But she never talked about it. It was like some deep, dark secret. I just got the impression she was pretty messed up.”
“Was she good looking?”
“Not particularly, but she made every effort to make herself look . . .”
“How?”
“Sexy, provocative.”
“I still don’t know how Howie gets involved.”
Lindsay shook her head as she looked at the table. “It may be a wild thought, but I think Howie was an experiment for her.”
“Experiment?”
“Yeah, like her guinea pig. She wanted to see just how much she could control a man, and Howie was the one she picked.”
“She had a child with him.”
“That’s another thing, the way she was with Brian. It was like she had him, then didn’t want him around. She proved she could have a baby, but she didn’t want him to get in her way.”
“Doing what?”
“Whatever she wanted to do. Howie was working like crazy in construction, trying to give her everything she wanted. But she’d gotten all she wanted out of him. She started talking about divorce. Howie got desperate. Then he got this crazy idea that if he went to Alaska and got a job up there, it would make everything all right.”
“Why Alaska?”
“Probably because it represented a fresh start, a totally different world.”
“Did Howie ever talk to you about any of this?”
Lindsay nodded. “I was the only one he could talk to. And never once did he say he wanted to kill Rae or wished she would go away or any of that. She was all he lived for.”
The waiter arrived with our drinks. As I picked up my beer, I said, “I’ll look into this, Lindsay. But I can’t promise you anything. You’ve got to believe that I’ve got Howie’s best interest in mind.”
She looked at me, this time with a softer expression than ever before. “I know,” she said. “Thanks for listening.”
And at that moment I fell even deeper for her, desperate about it, wanting her like I’ve never wanted anything or anyone else before. Disturbed, I tried to shake it off with a long sip of beer. I didn’t want her to see anything of this in me, so I switched gears and started talking about other things, trivial matters.
Finally, toward the end of lunch, I took my shot. “I wonder if we might do this again sometime,” I said.
“Lunch?”
“Or dinner. How about dinner next time?”
She blushed just a little and smiled. “Thank you for asking, -but . . . I don’t think so.”
I wasn’t about to shrug this off. “And why’s that?”
“I . . . it’s difficult to explain.”
Now I was more intrigued than ever. “Try me.”
She looked at me half apologetically, which gave me reason to hope. “I’m just not ready.”
“Wait a second. Did you just give me the ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ routine?”
“You think it’s a routine?”
“I––”
“Objection,” she said, with a slight smile. “Sustained.”
“I’ll have you know you can’t sustain your own objection.”
“I’ll have you know this is an Italian restaurant,” she said. “If you don’t like the rules I can call Mr. Amato’s two-hundred-and-fifty pound brother to come talk it over with you.”
“Maybe I should get the check.”
THE FIREWORKS STARTED popping early Monday morning.
I arrived at the Hinton County Courthouse for the preliminary hearing, which was being held in the realm of Judge Armen Abovian. I knew nothing about him and didn’t intend to find out. My goal was to settle the case on the best possible terms I could get for Howie and then get out of town and out of the lives of the Patino family once and for all.
I admit I had taken some pains to shake Lindsay Patino out of my mind. I did it with a combination of Jim Beam and frustration. She didn’t want to see me, fine. Two could play at that game.
Except the game got a little more complicated when I walked into the courtroom and saw Janet, Fred, and Lindsay Patino sitting there waiting for me.
Naturally, Janet and Fred wanted to know what was going to happen. I danced around the question, saying this was merely the first big stage of a felony proceeding, where a judge hears the prosecution’s evidence and decides if there is “probable cause” to send the defendant to Superior Court for trial.
I didn’t tell them I had no intention of conducting a preliminary hearing but was here only to get the quickest and best deal I could before the morning was out.
Lindsay seemed glad to see me. “Why aren’t you teaching?” I asked.
“I got the day off to be here. I wanted to support Howie.”
“I can’t promise any breakthrough.”
She put her hand on my arm and said, “I know. I know you’ll do what you think is best.”
I excused myself and joined Sylvia Plotzske at her counsel table. She actually looked pleased to see me. “I’ve got good news for you,” she said.
“Oh?”
“Tolletson will drop this to voluntary manslaughter.”
“You’re kidding.” I was stunned. This was great news, better than I could have hoped. Considering Howie had never been in major trouble before, he would probably end up with no more than three years in prison.
“The only thing,” Sylvia Plotzske said, “is that the offer is good now. If we go to prelim, it’s off the table, and we go for first degree.”
A no-brainer. I was sure the Patinos would understand. At least the parents would. So I told them. Janet and Fred nodded at each other. “It seems the best we can expect,” Fred said.
“Yes,” I said.
Lindsay looked more disheartened than angry. Maybe she had finally realized the inevitable. But she shook her head slowly and muttered, “He didn’t do it. He just didn’t do it.”
It was now 8:55, and the judge would soon be taking the bench. It was decision time. A sheriff brought Howie in from the lockup and sat him down at the defense table. Howie winced a little, probably because of his side. But then he turned and gave a small smile and wave to his family. Janet Patino started crying.
I was just about to explain the deal to Howie when my cell phone bleeped in my briefcase.
“Hey, man, it’s a beautiful day at the beach!” Cyril Cornelius Carr said.
“I’m in court, Trip.”
“I know. You’re about to strike a deal, right?”
“So?”
“So don’t do it.”
I looked around as if people could hear him and then cupped my hand over my mouth and turned my back to Howie. “What are you talking about?”
“I got down here early to catch the surfers. Surf’s lousy today though.”
I could hear the sound of waves breaking in the background. In a vigorous whisper, I said, “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about one of the surfers, a guy by the name of Chip Delliplane. He’s pretty good on a board. He also saw something the night of the murder.”
I couldn’t believe this was happening. A surprise witness? Now? “I thought I told you to drop this.”
“I just didn’t feel good about that, Jake. Something didn’t smell right. So I talked to Delliplane. Got his name from a friendly bartender at the edge of town.”
“So what’s he say?”
“He says he was riding his bike toward the Patino house that night, and it was right around the time of the murder. He heard a scream, stopped, and started to turn around. Just before he did, he saw somebody running from the house.”
All breath left me for a moment. I sucked in some air. “Why -didn’t he go to the cops and tell them all this?”
“Because he didn’t want his parents to find out.”
“Find out what?”
“That he was having an affair with Rae Patino.”
At that moment the bailiff told everyone in the courtroom to rise. Judge Abovian was entering the courtroom. I stood up with everyone else, but I was alone in holding a phone to my ear with my mouth hanging open.
“Jake? Jake?”
“Hold on,” I said.
The judge, who was about forty-five, wore a trimmed moustache under a roundish nose. He might have looked jovial if he smiled. He didn’t smile. He looked at me and said, “I don’t allow cell calls in my courtroom.”
“Um . . .” I said eloquently, “if, um, I may have just a moment, Your Honor?”
“You may not. Court is in session. Put that thing away.”
“Jake!” Triple C cried as if he were being dragged out by the riptide. I disconnected and put the phone away.
“All right,” said Abovian. “This is the time set for the preliminary hearing in the case of
People v. Howard Patino.
Is counsel ready?”
People v. Howard Patino.
Is counsel ready?”
Sylvia Plotzske stood. “The People are ready, Your Honor. However, we may have a disposition.”
“Is that right, Mr. Denney?” said the judge.
“Your Honor, if I may just confer with my client for a moment?”
“Haven’t you done that yet?”
“Not this morning.”
“All right, you can have one minute.”
I nodded curtly. How generous. One minute to get to the bottom of this thing. I put my hand on Howie’s shoulder and leaned in so no one could hear us. “Howie, I want you to tell me, once and for all, if you killed your wife.”
He seemed shocked and as if he barely comprehended what was going on. “Yeah, Jake, it was my fault.”
“That’s not what I asked you.”
“I killed her, Jake. I killed her spirit.”
Closing my eyes and feeling like I might explode, I whispered forcefully, “I don’t give a rip about her spirit, Howie! Was there someone else in the room with you when it happened? Did someone else kill your wife and stab you?”
For a moment, Howie said nothing. Then his eyes went wild, like a character in an old haunted-house comedy who sees a ghost. Only this wasn’t funny. This was pure terror.
Howie shot to his feet and started screaming at the top of his voice, “The devil! The devil! The devil!”
And then he bumped me with his shoulder as he ran by. I fell back against the counsel table.
Howie burst through the gate and ran up the aisle, screaming.
The bailiff took off after him.
Janet Patino yelled, “Howie!”
Howie burst out the doors.
I followed the bailiff.
Lindsay Patino followed me.
Out in the hallway people were watching the fleeing defendant as he ran wildly toward the courthouse doors. His cries got the attention of folks at the front desk, including a deputy sheriff. The deputy, linebacker size, jumped in front of Howie. The impact sent them both to the floor.
The bailiff reached them and grabbed Howie from behind, lifted him slightly, and slammed him on the ground.
Howie was crying and screaming and flapping his arms.
The linebacker deputy, looking none too pleased, rolled on top of Howie and held him down as the bailiff reached for his handcuffs.
He was bending Howie’s arm back just as Lindsay and I got there. Howie squealed through his tears.
“Go easy!” I said.
“Stop it!” Lindsay said.
A third deputy had appeared and got his body between us and the handcuff party.
“Back away,” he said.
“I’m his lawyer,” I said.
“Back away!”
Howie’s pitiful, muffled moans sounded like a wounded animal’s.
Lindsay tried to get by the deputy. He grabbed her arm and pushed her.
“Let go of me!” she said.
I took Lindsay by the shoulders and eased her out of the deputy’s grip. “It’s okay,” I said.
“It’s not okay,” she said. “And you know it.”
They got Howie, who was still crying softly, back into the courtroom. They kept the cuffs on him as they sat him down. The bailiff and the lineback deputy stood directly behind him as Abovian came back to the bench.
He scowled at me as if I was the one who had been screaming. “I hope you will make it abundantly clear to your client,” he said, “that another outburst like that will result in his being shackled and gagged. Do you understand that? I am not kidding. I will slap a gag on his mouth so fast it’ll make your head spin. Is there anything about that you don’t understand, Mr. Denney?”
“No, Your Honor.”
“Talk to your client.”
I leaned down to whisper to Howie. His chin was resting on his chest. “Did you hear the judge?”
He nodded slightly.
“You going to behave yourself?”
He didn’t do anything.
“You trust me, Howie?”
Another nod.
“Then keep on trusting me. Will you keep quiet for the rest of the hearing? Will you do that much for me?”
Pause. Then: “Okay, Jake.”
“Your Honor, my client understands. May I request that the handcuffs be removed?”
“I’m warning both you and your client,” Abovian said.
“Understood,” I said.
“Then the bailiff will remove the handcuffs,” the judge said.
After Howie got his wrists back, the judge said, “Now, I understand there is a disposition on the table. Is that right?”
I glanced back at the Patinos. Fred was holding Janet, who was understandably shaken. Lindsay was looking at me as if I was the only one who could offer them any hope. Howie had his head in his hands and seemed spent.
And Sylvia Plotzske, arms folded, looked at me as if I’d better cop the plea right now or I’d be the world’s biggest idiot, especially after what had just transpired.
With a gulp, I looked at the judge. “We’re ready to proceed, Your Honor.”
I thought I could almost hear the sound of Sylvia’s jaw dropping. She quickly shuffled through her files, an indication to me that she never thought she’d have to put on a prelim. I was supposed to grab the deal and run. I wondered about my sanity at that moment.
“Call your first witness, Ms. Plotzske,” Judge Abovian said.
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