J.D. Trafford - Michael Collins 03 - No Time To Hide (28 page)

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Authors: J.D. Trafford

Tags: #Mystery: Legal Thriller - New York City

 

 

CHAPTER EIGHTY ONE

 

Judge Husk sat behind his desk. He had taken off his robe and he somehow seemed even smaller than in the courtroom. He sat with his wrinkled hands folded on the desk. His tiny wrists were dominated by a pair of silver cufflinks.

The law clerk led the attorneys into chambers.

Gadd sat down in one of the open chairs. Quentin occupied the other empty chair while the judge’s law clerk remained standing.

“Well,” Judge Husk looked at Brenda Gadd. “Looks like we’ve had a development.”

His eyes twinkled with mischief. This was the part of his job that he loved, and it was the primary reason he would likely die before he retired.

“Your Honor,” Gadd edged up in her seat. She glanced at Quentin with a flash of anger, and then back at Judge Husk. “I’ve been sandbagged.” She pointed at Quentin. “Sanctions and contempt would be too nice. Mr. Robinson has disrupted a major trial. He obviously knew his client was going to lose, and now he is trying to get a mistrial.”

Quentin shook his head.

“I don’t want a mistrial, Your Honor. I want the jury to hear my client’s side of the story. It is totally appropriate for the defense to offer alternative explanations for what has —”

“Alternative explanations,” Gadd shook her head and rolled her eyes. “The cross-examination needs to be in good faith. It needs to be rooted in the truth. You can’t just lie. You need to —”

Now it was Judge Husk’s turn to interrupt. He held up his hand.

“I think we get your point.” He took a heavy breath, and then turned to Quentin. “Perhaps it would be best to explain.”

Quentin lowered the tone of his voice. He wanted to match the judge’s
calm demeanor, which was easy in this situation. He had all the leverage.

“Your Honor, my client has told me all along that he was a trustee for a legal trust created by Joshua Krane prior to his death. It was a secret trust with a very specific confidentiality clause.”

Judge Husk narrowed his eyes, focusing his attention on Quentin and trying to understand the implications.

“Which means?” he prompted.

“Which means,” Quentin continued, “that the money that Michael Collins consolidated, transferred and disbursed was not stolen. He was lawfully managing the money on behalf of a trust created by Joshua Krane prior to his death. The charitable contributions and the purchase of the resort were expenditures and investments within the sole discretion of the trustee. There was no wire fraud because Michael Collins was acting within his legal authority to —”

Gadd stood.

“This is ridiculous, Your Honor. We’ve been investigating for years. Michael Collins could have just told us this story and the investigation would have likely ended or this trust would be debunked, but instead, he takes it to trial.”

Quentin raised his hand.

“Your Honor, if I may address that issue?”

Judge Husk nodded.
“Please.”

“Thank you.” Quentin smiled, sheepishly. “To tell the truth, Your Honor. I didn’t believe him. That’s why nothing was said. Michael Collins said he had proof, a copy of the trust agreement, but that it was destroyed in the fire at the resort where he had been living. A fire we believe was started by Brent Krane, the witness’s brother.”

“There’s no proof of that. There’s no proof of any of this.” Brenda Gadd folded her arms across her chest and sat back down. She was flustered and irritated.

“I don’t know, but I’m sure that the United States Attorney’s Office can check the TSA’s database and see whether or not Brent Krane was in Mexico at the time of the fire.”

“I can’t believe we’re listening to this.” Brenda Gadd threw her hands up in the air. “We are in the midst of a jury trial, and now we’re getting last-minute conspiracy theories.”

“It was a theory,” Quentin said. “Until early this morning.” Quentin opened his briefcase and took out a copy of the trust agreement that had been disclosed to him by the United States Attorney’s Office.

“I had been harassing Ms. Gadd for many weeks, if not months, to supplement her disclosures, because Michael Collins had insisted. I was annoyed with my client, and I’m sure Ms. Gadd was annoyed with me. Nothing further was provided, until this morning. Finally, she sent over another batch of documents from Franklin and Uckley related to Joshua Krane’s business dealings. In those documents, the trust agreement was disclosed.”

“Let me see that.” Gadd snatched the pieces of paper from Quentin Robinson’s hand. She started reading.

Quentin sat back and let her read. There was nothing she could do.

 

 

 

CHAPTER EIGHTY TWO

 

Armstrong stuck his head into Agent Vatch’s office.

“Hey Frank,” He knocked on the
door as he walked inside. “Is your phone on? Brenda Gadd is trying to reach you.”

Agent Vatch turned.

“My phone is on.” He picked it up off of his desk and showed the lit screen. “I’m just not answering at the moment.”

“Well, things are falling apart.” Armstrong was confused by Vatch’s reaction, but he continued, hoping further explanation might get Agent Vatch to move. “We need to check out Brent Krane. And she wants to know whether you remember some document that was disclo
sed to Collins’ attorney. She said it was a trust agreement or something. It was in the stuff that you reviewed last night.”

Vatch shook his head. He was tired. He had spent the night disposing of any physical evidence linking Anthony to the shooting. He still hadn’t gotten the whole story, but somehow Anthony
got sucked into one of Spider’s feuds. It wasn’t an honorable crime. Vatch had hoped that Anthony felt threatened in some way. He had hoped that it could be loosely rationalized as a form of self-defense, but that wasn’t true. It was murder. That was all.

“Frank, seriously.” Armstrong came into Agent Vatch’s office and closed the door. “Gadd is flipping out. She needs you on this.”

“Sorry, kiddo.” Vatch took a breath. All the venom that had driven him for years was now gone. He had helped a murderer escape. “You do it.”

“What do you mean? This is your case.” Armstrong didn’t want to get into a ship that was sinking.

Vatch turned back to his computer and clicked the print button.  The printer underneath his desk hummed, and then spat out a letter that he had written that morning. Vatch took it off the tray, and then handed it to Agent Armstrong.

“This i
s a copy.” Vatch’s face knotted up. “Submitted the real one to HR this morning along with the forms.”

Armstrong scanned the first few sentences.

“Early retirement?”

“I’m done.”

“When?”

Vatch took a breath. “Effective immediately.”

 

 

 

CHAPTER EIGHTY
THREE

 

The people in the hallway started to file back into the courtroom. Brea Krane had already gone inside and retaken her place on the witness stand. Tad Garvin remained on the wooden bench, thinking about what Brenda Gadd had just told him and trying to understand how a box of documents had been sent from his office without his knowledge.

Of course, he admitted to nothing. He had a reputation to protect. Admitting that he was sleeping with a client was not an option, admitting that he had, in fact, visited Michael Collins in Mexico shortly before the indictment was not an option, admitting that he set up a series of off-shore accounts for Brea Krane was not an option, and further admitting a security breach at the mighty Franklin and Uckley was also not good for anybody.

He had remained as calm as he could while being verbally attacked by Brenda Gadd. Even though he felt the walls closing in on him, Tad Garvin had merely promised Brenda Gadd that he would look into the situation and that was what he was going to do.

Garvin stood. He didn’t need to hear the rest of Brea Krane’s testimony. He had seen the copy of the trust agreement. It was a disaster.

Garvin began walking toward the elevators when he heard a familiar voice.

“How much did you know?”

Garvin turned around and looked at Brent Krane. 

“Look, Brent, this really isn’t the time or place to have this discussion. Why don’t we —”

Brent cut him off.

“I’ve got something that you need to see.”

Garvin shook his head.

“I need to go back to the office and figure this out, Brent. I don’t have time.”

“Work with me,” Brent said. “And I can help you out of this.” Brent walked closer to Garvin, and Garvin could see that Brent didn’t look right. Brent hadn’t showered in weeks. His hair was disheveled. He smelled. “I need to talk to you right now.”

“I’ll talk to you later,” Garvin turned away, but Brent grabbed his arm.

“I know everything,” Brent said. “And what I know can get you disbarred from the practice of law. What I know can probably get you tossed in jail for witness tampering and obstruction of justice and a bunch of other stuff. So don’t mess with me. We need to be a team.”

Garvin’s eyes widened. He
understood the threat.

“What?” Brent Krane twitched, staring at Garvin. “Didn’t think I knew big words? Did my sister tell you I was crazy? Well, I’ve done some research. I know enough about what you and my sister are doing to know that
it’s illegal.” Brent looked at the door to the courtroom. “Maybe I should just go in there right now and put a stop to this whole game.”

Brent let go of Garvin’s arm, and walked past. He was a few feet from the door, when Garvin caved.

“Okay, Brent,” he said. “You win. Let’s not do anything rash. I’m sure there’s a way to accommodate you. To be a team.”

“I’m sure there are
ways.” Brent’s eyes narrowed and the crowd inside his head went wild. They wanted Garvin dead, too.

 

CHAPTER EIGHTY FOUR

 

The testimony of Brea Krane continued. Quentin Robinson was now firmly in control. Judge Husk had chastised Brenda Gadd for constantly interrupting with objections, and now Quentin had a clear path.

Michael watched Quentin Robinson introduce the trust agreement into evidence, and then listened as he walked through each term of the trust agreement. Quentin had Brea Krane read aloud for the jury the agreement’s confidentiality clause. He highlighted the specific prohibition to disclosing the trust agreement to any government agency absent a court order.

Quentin pointed out the dates of Michael Collins and Joshua Krane’s signatures. Then he carefully parsed the paragraphs related to Michael Collins authority as trustee.

“Do you see paragraph five of the trust agreement?” Quentin held his copy in the air and pointed to the text halfway down the second page. He waited for Brea Krane to nod her head.

“Now could you read this first part? Slowly.”

Brea stared hard at Quentin, but she had no choice.

“The trustee, in the trustee’s sole discretion and judgment, may invest any assets of the trust, in whole or in part, in any stocks, bonds, mutual funds, real estate, real property, or any other venture the trustee deems appropriate.” Brea Krane put her copy of the exhibit down.

“Now, Ms. Krane, we’ve heard a lot about the purchase of the Sunset Resort and Hostel by Mr. Collins through corporations that he established to maintain the confidentiality of the trust and himself. You’d agree that the Sunset Resort and Hostel is a business and also a piece of real property, true?”

Gadd stood half-heartedly.

“Objection, calls for a legal conclusion.”

Quentin turned to the judge.

“The witness is a Harvard MBA, Your Honor, and she can answer based on her own under
standing. I’m not asking for a legal opinion.”

Judge Husk nodded.

“Overruled. The witness shall answer, and Ms. Gadd, I’m sure that there will be a series of these questions. I’ll interpret this objection as a standing objection to this whole line of inquiry.” Judge Husk took a deep breath, clearly annoyed. “So please stop interrupting.”

“Very well,” Brenda Gadd forced a tense smile. She nodded and sat down.

Quentin turned back to Brea Krane.

“Now, if you could answer the question. Is the purchase of the resort a real estate investment?”

Brea Krane hesitated, and then nodded.

“Arguably.”

It was an answer that evaded the question, but Quentin got what he needed and moved on.

“Now looking at paragraph five, sub-part B. Can you read that?”

“I can read it,” she responded, but then didn’t actually read the paragraph. Brea was trying to being smart by only answering the question, but the jury was not amused.

“Of course.” Quentin shook his head. “I know you are literate and can read. Now, I’m asking you to actually read this sub-part aloud for the jury.”

“The trustee, in the trustee’s sole discretion and judgment, may make charitable contributions to any non-profit organization recognized as a 501(c)(3) corporation in good standing by the United States Internal Revenue Service and located within New York, New York. Charitable contributions cannot exceed 3% of total trust assets as of the formation date of said trust.” Brea Krane sighed, and put the exhibit down. She knew what was coming and Quentin delivered.

“Now, in this trial, we have also heard about a contribution to a Catholic church. It is a parish that is located here in New York City. Based on your own life experiences and knowledge, you must agree that the Catholic Church is a non-profit organization, true?”

This time there was no objection, and so Brea Krane answered.

“I suppose.”

“You suppose.” Quentin nodded, as Michael Collins sat silently, watching it unfold.

It was a complete and utter fraud upon the court. It was all theater.

Quentin Robinson played the role of the zealous advocate. Although he certainly knew that Andie and Michael were scheming, his job was not to question his client. His job was to win. He was provided a trust agreement directly from the United States government, which was given to them directly from the Krane’s attorney. Quentin Robinson broke no ethical rules by using it.

Brenda Gadd played the role of self-righteous prosecutor. Judge Husk played the role of supervisor and referee. It was not his job to second-chair the prosecution or the defense. If attorneys made mistakes, they were forced to live with them.

The trust agreement was properly disclosed to the defense as exculpatory evidence. The mistake was not a legal one. The mistake was rooted in the investigation and government’s apparent hubris.

And finally, Brea Krane played the role of an attorney’s worst nightmare. She was a liar. She was a witness that self-destructed on the stand. The only thing that she did not testify to was the transfer of money to her Cook Island accounts. Michael didn’t want to go there.

 

###

It ended with a whimper. After Brea Krane stepped down and exited the courtroom, Brenda Gadd stood. It was not how any prosecutor wanted to end her case in chief. It was, however, her only choice at the moment.

“Your Honor, the prosecution has no further witnesses at this time. It rests. I do
, however, reserve the right to call rebuttal witnesses.”

Judge Husk nodded. His expression did not betray his neutrality. Even though everyone in the courtroom understood that the dynamics of the trial had completely changed in one morning, he remained calm and businesslike.

“That being the case,” he said, “the Court needs to talk about some logistics with the attorneys, and so I’ll excuse the jurors for lunch. I’ll also remind the jurors of their obligation not to discuss this case or witnesses among themselves or anyone else, because the trial is not over and deliberations have not begun.”

Judge Husk turned away from the jury box, and then looked out at the courtroom full of spectators. “Please rise for the jury as they exit the room.”

The people in the courtroom stood and watched the jurors leave.

Michael put his hand on Quentin’s shoulder, gave it a squeeze, and whispered “thank you” in his ear. Michael knew that the jurors were watching, and he hoped that it would make it clear to the jurors that their job had just gotten easier.

When the side door leading to the jury room closed and all the jurors were gone, Judge Husk continued.

“Mr. Robinson, how would you like to proceed?”

Quentin stood.

“First, Your Honor, we would ask this Court for a directed verdict. In light of the testimony just received and the disclosure of the Trust Agreement, there is no need to continue this trial. The prosecution has failed to satisfy its high burden to prove wire fraud beyond a reasonable doubt and it is unnecessary for this trial to continue.”

Judge Husk offered no reaction. He, instead, turned to Brenda Gadd.

“Response?”

Brenda Gadd stood.

“Yes, thank you.” She paused, weighing her words carefully. “Obviously this case changed this morning, but nothing this morning absolves Michael Collins of guilt. The government remains confident that Michael Collins stole Joshua Krane’s money, and we believe, just as Ms. Krane believes, that the trust document is a fraud.”

“But it came from her family’s attorney,” Judge Husk said. “And it was produced to the defense by you.”

“I still believe that it is a fraud, and I would respectfully request a continuance to investigate the document and offer such evidence in my rebuttal.”

Judge Husk tilted his head to the side, and then looked at Quentin. He raised his hand, directing Quentin to stand and respond.

“A continuance is highly unusual in the midst of a jury trial. These jurors have already made a huge sacrifice in being here, and they deserve to receive the evidence, deliberate on that evidence, and go home. The government has had five years to investigate. They are now claiming surprise about a document produced by the attorney for one of their own witnesses, which they produced to me.”

“As for the rebuttal?”

“Judge Husk, there shouldn’t be a rebuttal. This case should be done.” Quentin looked over at Michael, and then back. “But ultimately, if you don’t grant my motion for a directed verdict, then Ms. Gadd can put up whatever rebuttal evidence she wants. That’s her right, but there shouldn’t be a delay and we can address whatever issues exist with the rebuttal testimony as it comes.”

Judge Husk nodded.

“Very well.”  He looked over at his law clerk, and then back at counsel. “The motion for a directed verdict is denied. Although counsel for Mr. Collins is correct, that the testimony this morning significantly undermines the government’s case. I believe there are clearly facts in dispute, and that is for the jury to resolve. So I’m not willing to stop the trial and declare a winner.”

Judge Husk looked at Brenda Gadd and his expression hardened.

“As for a continuance,” he shook his head. “That request is denied. This case is going forward, and Ms. Gadd, you have all the tools and resources of the government at your disposal. Certainly, you can prepare your rebuttal in a timely matter. The jury has been sworn. The trial
has begun. Double jeopardy has attached, and you cannot change the rules of the game simply because things are not going your way.”

Judge Husk then turned to Quentin Robinson.

“Anything else?”

“Yes, Your Honor, assuming that Ms. Gadd stipulates to the trust agreement as an exhibit for the defense and
it is accepted as an affirmative defense, then we will call no witnesses. The defense would rest.”

Judge Husk turned from Quentin to Michael.

“And Mr. Collins, you have been informed of your right to testify in this trial?”

Michael Collins stood.

“Yes, Your Honor. And I choose to exercise my right to remain silent. The trust agreement speaks for itself regarding my actions and authority as well as my obligations to keep the trust confidential.”

Brenda Gadd rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“Your Honor, I respectfully ask you to reconsider your ruling.”

“Why?” Judge Husk asked, daring Brenda Gadd to answer him. “Nothing has changed in the last sixty seconds that would require me to reverse this decision.” He folded his hands in front of himself. “Now, in light of defense counsel’s request, I anticipate that you will not waste the Court’s time by requiring them to lay the foundation for a document that you yourself produced to the defense. True?”

Brenda Gadd didn’t respond. She didn’t want to agree to anything, but she also knew that the trial was going to continue and that further irritating Judge Husk was not going to help. “That is true, Your Honor, we will stipulate.”

“Fine. Then that is settled.“ Judge Husk nodded. “We’ll come back after lunch.  Mr. Robinson will offer the trust agreement as affirmative evidence of its defense. He will rest, and we will break for the day. Tomorrow morning, Ms. Gadd will offer any rebuttal testimony that she may have, and then we will go straight to jury instructions and closing arguments.”

Judge Husk took a breath and steadied himself.

“I think the afternoon is plenty of time for us to wrap up this trial, for Ms. Gadd to fashion her rebuttal, and for both the prosecution and the defense to draft their closing arguments.”

Judge Husk nodded at the bailiff and his law clerk and both stood.

“Court is now adjourned.”

 

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