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Authors: Adrian Del Valle

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BOOK: Curby
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“Did he pay for all of that?”

“Yes, he did.”

“Thank you, Ms. Trudall. Your Honor, among your receipts, you will find quite a few for cases of formula and if you check the dates…”

“I already have.”

The judge addressed The Dubois’ lawyer. “Would you like to cross examine?”

(Grumble) “Not at this time, your Honor.”

“You may be seated, Ms. Trudall. Anyone else, counsel?”

“Yes, your Honor. I’d like to call on Detective Victor Guevara.”

Everyone in the court room turned to the man working his way down one of the back rows with a thick mustache and wearing sun glasses. After being sworn in at the witness stand, he flipped the lower back portion of his suit jacket up and settled in the hard wooden chair.

Martin began, “Would you mind removing your sunglasses, Detective Guevara? Thank you. Do you recall three years ago, visiting Mr. Santinelli at his apartment along with Detective Salvatore Rinaldi?”

“Yes! Actually, when you first asked me that a few weeks ago, I couldn’t remember? But, after you showed me the report that I wrote back then, and the man we were looking for, I recalled the incident.”

“And…who were you looking for at the time in question?”

“At the time? Uh…Tommy Van der Hoss.”

“Did you find him?”

“No, not there! We found him a few days later.”

Mr. Levenstein stood up and shouted across the court room. “Objection, your Honor. None of this is relevant!”

“Judge Coleman addressed Mr. Briscotti. “Counsel, what does this have to do with a custody case?”

“Your Honor, if it would please the court, may I just have a few more moments with my witness? I will definitely show relevancy.”

“Objection, overruled. You may continue, counsel.”

“Detective, at the time, do you recall seeing a baby in that apartment?”

“Yes, I do. When my partner and I went into the bedroom to look for Van der Hoss, we saw a woman holding a newborn baby in her arms.”

“Objection!”

“What, now Mr. Levenstein?”

“If he’s going to infer that that was the same baby, how are we going to know whether it was or not?”

“Mr. Briscotti?”

“Your Honor, I’m only establishing that there was a baby there of the same age as Curby. That’s all.”

“Objection overruled. It’s been established. Anything else?”

“Yes, sir. May I continue?”

”Yes, you may?”

“Detective,…” said Briscotti, “…please tell the court what happened concerning Tommy Van der Hoss?”

“Van der Hoss? He was tried and convicted of murder and got a twenty year sentence for that. He’s serving his time at Ossining, upstate.”

“Thank you, Mr. Guevara. Your Honor, I’m through with this witness.”

“You may step down, detective.”

The witness stand emptied. The judge, a little perplexed, asked, “So, where’s the relevancy?”

“Your Honor, I have one more witness.”

The judge looked at the clock and took a deep breath. “Go ahead, counsel.”

“I would like to call to the witness stand, the probation officer who was in charge of Tommy Van der Hoss at the time…Daniel Stalling.”

Daniel Stalling stepped up to the stand, short, plump and sporting a close cropped beard. Sworn in, he sat back and relaxed, having served as a witness in many a criminal trial.

“Mr. Stalling…Tommy Van der Hoss…was he not one of your past parolees?”

“Yes, he was, and fortunately, I’ll be retired by the time he gets out.”

“Just answer the question, Mr. Stalling,” said the judge.

“Sorry.”

“Mr. Stalling,” Briscotti continued, “What transpired between Van der Hoss and his cell mate that came to your attention?”

“I got a call from Eddie Rodriguez. That was Tommy’s cell mate. He called me at my office and said he had information about an abandoned baby.”

“Please, go on.”

“He told me that three years ago, Mr. Van der Hoss’s girlfriend had their baby in the basement of a building and that he wanted to get rid of it. He at first wanted to kill the baby, but his girlfriend put up too much of a fuss, so, he decided to put the baby in a box and leave it in the street.

“My guess was that the inmate, Rodriguez, thought he could leverage that information for a lesser sentence. I’m afraid it didn’t work. The concern now was…what ever happened to that baby? We checked police records, but found nothing. We then spoke to the arresting detectives, Mr. Guevara and Mr. Rinaldi. That’s when it all clicked. Guevara is stationed at the same precinct as Officer Silverman. Three weeks ago, she was the officer who made out the report when the boy was found wandering the streets.”

Martin Briscotti finished pacing around in a tight circle in front of the witness stand. He scanned the rows of mesmerized faces sitting attentively on oak benches or standing along the back wall. He then turned back to the witness stand.

“For the record, Mr. Stalling, could you please tell the court that missing boy’s name?”

“Curby!”

A moan lifted from the court room.

“She happened to…”

“Just a second, Mr. Stalling. She, who?”

“Sorry! Officer Margie Silverman.”

“Please continue.”

“Officer Silverman happened to mention about the lost child while she was inside the officer’s lounge in Detective Guevara’s presents. We all put two and two together and figured out that just possibly; the baby and the three year old boy were one and the same kid. Especially, since Mr. Santinelli couldn’t establish paternity or show a birth certificate for the boy. Besides that, the age was dead on. Also, the location of the box where Mr. Santinelli said he found the baby was exactly where Van der Hoss told Rodriguez he had left it. ”

“Let me hold you up right there, Mr. Stalling. Was a DNA test performed between the child and Van der Hoss?”

“Yes, there was!”

“And what was that result?”

The hush in the court room had grown so quiet, cars in the street beyond the thick stone walls could be clearly heard as they passed by.

“It was a match!”

Another moan was voiced from the court room.

“I have that report here,” Judge Coleman said. “Very impressive. So, is this your last witness, counsel?”

“Yes and no, your Honor.”

“What do you mean by that, Mr. Briscotti?”

“At this time, your Honor, I would like to present Curby to the court?”

“Why, yes! That would be perfectly fine, counsel. I think we’d all like to meet Mr. Curby.”

Martin looked toward the rear of the court room and nodded at one of the court officers standing before the back wall.
The officer immediately went into the hallway and within seconds a female court officer entered the room, hand in hand with Curby.

She guided him up the center aisle, the boy, wide eyed and nervously searching for a familiar face among the gawking crowd. Before the bench, the highly polished floor boards of the vast open space appeared dark and expansive, stretching from wall to wall.

It was all so overwhelming, the smiling judge, the huge mahogany desk, the American flag off to one side along with the city and state flags.

The court officer turned the boy around to face the court.

“Daddy!”

Curby broke free and ran to Nick who grabbed him and lifted him off his feet. Wrapped in his arms, he held him on his lap.

“Why are we here, Daddy?”

“Shh! We have to be quiet.”

The judge said, “Counsel, this is all taken quite sympathetically by the court. However, whether or not Mr. Santinelli found this child or even if he was given this child by an unknown, has no real bearing on the custody matter in this case. Since this is not Mr. Santinelli’s paternal child and his home situation has remained unchanged, I’m afraid I’m going to have to rule in the Dubois’ favor.”

Martin Briscotti lowered his head.

Annette Dubois looked at Mr. Levenstein with a wide grin.

Martin said, “May I have a moment with my client, sir?”

Judge Coleman, an elderly and congenial fellow with kind eyes and of African American heritage, looked over his glasses at the clock on the wall. Don’t be too long, I have a full day ahead.”

“Yes, your Honor. This will only take a minute.”

The lawyer sat alongside Nick. He addressed both him and Jaime in a voice that was barely above a whisper. “This is it and I believe the judge is sympathetic towards our side. “

“I couldn’t get the mayor.” Nick chided.”

“Yeah, right!”

“I brought a few character witnesses. They’re sitting behind me.”

“I don’t think that’s going to help. I don’t want to bore the court with all of that. Besides, Its not your character that’s in question. Are you guys ready to drop the bombshell?”

“The envelope?” Nick asked.

“The envelope!”

Martin winked at them, got up and faced the judge. “Your Honor, may I approach the bench?”

“Yes, you may, counsel.”

Standing next to him, Levenstein put his hands on his hips, curious as to what could possibly be in that envelope.

If he thinks a petition signed by the likes of the corner grocery store owner and his landlord is going to help, he’s wasting the courts time. I got this one in the bag.

Martin handed the envelope to Judge Coleman.

The judge spread the unsealed envelope open, took out the stapled papers from inside and unfolded a legal document. Holding in a strong desire to smile, he passed it on to the clerk.

“Make a copy of that. Please be seated Mr. Briscotti and Mr. Levenstein.”

The judge folded his hands over the top of the huge desk, looked calmly at everyone that was standing or sitting in the
court room and said, “Before I hand down the judgment of this court, I would like to reiterate a little story to all of you.

“Back in Mississippi, sixty two years ago, a small boy of two was left with his grandmother, because his mother got lost in the world of drugs and prostitution. The father never met his little boy. He was long gone and soon forgotten.

The grandmother was kind, yet old school strict. She loved that child more than anything, taught him to be fair, devout and mindful of his studies. Unfortunately for the boy, when he was only one year away from finishing high school, she passed on to a better place.

“For his love of his grandmother, the boy fulfilled a promise he had given to her at her bedside. He went on to college and completed a Doctorate of law degree. Still saddened to this day for her loss, that boy is forever grateful to Sadie for the kindness she showed him. I know that to be true, because that little boy was me.

“It is the final judgment and may I add, the pleasure of this court, that custody of this child, Curby, shall be given to Mr. and Mrs. Santinelli…”

Before the judge could finish, a cacophony of whoops and shouts reverberated from the seats.

“Alright!”

“Yeah!”

(Whistles)

“Congratulations!”

“Yay!”

“Whoo hoo!”

(More whistles)

Taken by surprise, Annette Dubois glared at her lawyer. “Mr. and Mrs.?”

Judge Coleman, now standing, slammed the gavel down and finished the sentence. “the rightful and deserving future caretakers of Curby.”

He picked up a stack of papers, turned his back to the court and exited for his chambers, a broad grin on his lips.

Nick gave his son the biggest and most tearful kiss ever. “Are you going to give your mommy a big hug?”

Curby stared at him. “That’s Jaime!”

“Not any more. She’s your mommy.”

By now, Jaime’s arms were around the both of them along with tears of her own.

“Well, what’s next, Nick?” Martin asked.

“A birth certificate, for one.”

“Hey, congratulations to the three of you.”

   
Nick patted Jaime on the stomach. “Hopefully, four, someday.”

“Then, I’ll congratulate the four of you in advance and you want to know something?”

“What’s that?” Nick asked.

“Right now, I want to kiss that judge.”

“You’re not alone. So do we.”

End

BOOK: Curby
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