That’s probably enough to get this to trial.”
“But we can explain all that stuff.” He’s pleading his case to us.
“I know. But we don’t want to telegraph our defense too soon.”
“So you’re saying we’re going to trial.”
“Looks like it.”
He looks up at the ceiling, and says nothing.
“All rise.” Judge Brown enters his small, packed courtroom and takeshis place on the bench between the Stars and Stripes and the Californiastate flag.
Reporters fill the jury box. There’s barely room for a few courthousegroupies.
Joel sits at the defense table between Rosie and me. Mort is at theend of the table. Rabbi Friedman and Naomi sit silently in the firstrow. Joel’s mother is home watching the children.
The case is called and Skipper and I state our appearances for therecord.
Judge Brown reads the charges and says the defendant has entered a pleaof not guilty. He reminds us this is a preliminary hearing for thepurpose of determining whether there is sufficient evidence to hold thedefendant over for trial. Skipper gives a brief opening statementsummarizing the evidence. I give an even shorter statement that says,in effect, there are too many gaping holes in the state’s case to holdJoel over for trial. Then Judge Brown instructs Skipper to call hisfirst witness.
“Please state your name and occupation for the record,” Skipper says.
“Dr. Roderick Beckert. Chief Medical Examiner for the City and Countyof San Francisco.”
“How long have you held that position?”
“Thirty years.”
Skipper starts to run Beckert through his credentials. Undergrad atHarvard.
Medical degree from Stanford. I interrupt and stipulate to hisexpertise.
Skipper is disappointed. He was just getting to the part where Beckertdelivered the tablets at Mount Sinai.
Skipper hands Beckert a copy of his autopsy report. Beckert glances atit briefly. His testimony doesn’t take long. He confirms Bob andDiana died from gunshot wounds. Skipper sits down. He’s played justenough cards for a prelim.
McNulty has coached him well.
“Dr. Beckert,” I say, “your report says the wounds to Mr. Holmes mayhave been self-inflicted.”
“Yes it does.”
I need to be careful with the next question.
“Dr. Beckert, it is possible that the wounds were, in fact,self-inflicted, right?”
“Yes, but…”
I interrupt him.
“Thanks, Doctor. You’ve answered my question. I have no furtherquestions.”
He looks at the judge. His eyes plead for a chance to explain. Browntells him to step down.
Sandra Wilson is next. Skipper quickly walks her through her resume.
Undergraduate and masters degrees from UCLA. A nine-year veteran ofthe SFPD.
I’ll look like an ass if I interrupt her.
She calmly describes the physical evidence. As the sportscasters liketo say, we can’t stop her—we can only hope to contain her. Skippertakes her through chain-of-custody issues. She leaves no doubt the gunand the other evidence were handled and catalogued in accordance withpolice procedures. She describes the fingerprints on the gun and thekeyboard. She says they’re a perfect match for Joel’s. She introducesthe tape from Diana’s answering machine and a recording of Joel’s voicemail to Bob. Joel leans over and whispers whether there’s anything wecan do. I shrug. Skipper sits down. He probably doesn’t need to callany other witnesses.
“Ms. Wilson,” I say, “did you test the defendant’s hands or clothingfor gunpowder residue?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“He wasn’t a suspect at the scene. By the time he became a suspectseveral days later, his hands and clothing would have been cleaned andthe tests wouldn’t have shown anything.”
“So you can’t prove he fired the gun?”
“His fingerprints were on the gun, Mr. Daley.”
“I understand. But you can’t show that he fired it.”
“That’s correct.”
“Just one more question. Did you find Joel Friedman’s fingerprints onthe trigger?”
I’m sure she expected the question. She pauses briefly and says,“There were smudged fingerprints on the trigger, Mr. Daley. We wereunable to positively identify them.”
“So, you can’t affirmatively demonstrate that Mr. Friedman pulled thetrigger?”
“We could not identify the fingerprints on the trigger, Mr. Daley,”she repeats.
I argue with the judge for a few moments that she’s beingunresponsive. He finally gets her to admit that the physical evidencedoes not conclusively show that Joel pulled the trigger.
“No further questions,” I say. It’s helpful to have an ex-cop likePete on our side. He notices things.
Roosevelt takes the stand. He confirms Joel admitted he was in the S&Goffices the night of the incident. He describes the scene in Bob’soffice. He provides copies of the phone records showing the call fromJoel’s office to Diana. His testimony is all factual. And all true. Isee McNulty’s influence. He figures he doesn’t need to show very muchto get this case to trial. I can’t punch a hole in anything Rooseveltsays. I’ll save it for the trial. I decide not to crossexaminehim.
Skipper trots out a straightforward Rick Cinelli to talk about thefight at Harrington’s and an edgy Homer Kim to talk about the argumentin Bob’s office.
On cross, I get each of them to admit that they didn’t know what thearguments were about. I get Cinelli to admit Joel and Diana may havebeen talking about business. I get nothing out of Kim.
I figure Skipper is about to wrap up when he calls Art Patton. Thecourtroom is silent as the Enormous One walks forcefully to the frontof the courtroom.
“Mr. Patton,” Skipper says, “were you at the Simpson and Gates firmretreat last October?”
“Yes.” His tone is measured.
“And during that retreat, did you have an opportunity to see thedefendant and Ms. Kennedy?”
“Yes. I saw them many times.”
“I would like to ask you about one particular time. Did you see thedefendant and Ms. Kennedy at approximately three a.m. on Saturday,October twenty-fifth?”
“Yes, I did.”
“And can you tell us the circumstances of that meeting?”
I’m up.
“Objection, Your Honor. I fail to see the relevance.”
“I’ll allow it,” says Judge Brown.
Pattern tries to look sincere.
“I heard noises from Mr. Friedman’s condo. I was concerned, so Iknocked on his door. Mr. Friedman answered. I asked him ifeverything was all right, and he said yes. Then I saw Ms. Kennedy inMr.
Friedman’s bed. She didn’t appear to have any clothes on.”
There are shuffling sounds in the back of the courtroom. I steal aglance at Naomi, who is looking down.
“And what did this lead you to conclude, Mr. Patton?”
“Objection,” I say.
“Speculative.”
“Sustained.”
“I’ll rephrase,” says Skipper.
“Did you observe Mr. Friedman and Ms. Kennedy having a physicalrelationship in his room that night?”
“Objection, relevance.”
“Overruled.”
Patton tries to look embarrassed. He turns to the judge.
“I’m uncomfortable discussing the personal lives of members of thefirm.”
Bullshit.
Brown says, “I’m going to have to ask you to answer the question, Mr.Patton.”
Patton exhales melodramatically.
“It appeared that they had been in his bed together.”
“No further questions.”
Nice move, Skipper. It’ll be tough to unring that bell. I glance atNaomi as I stand up. She’s still looking down. The rabbi isfrowning.
“Mr. Patton,” I say, “did Mr. Friedman let you into his room?”
He looks at me though his small, round glasses.
“No. I stayed outside.”
“I see. And did he open the door all the way?”
“No, he didn’t.”
“How far did he open the door?”
He stops to think.
“Maybe halfway.”
“Really. Halfway’s about a foot, maybe a foot and a half, right, Mr.Patton?”
“I guess so.”
“I’ll bet you couldn’t see much of Mr. Friedman’s room through thattwelve inches.”
“I could see most of it.”
“And how long was the door open?”
“About a minute.”
“And what was Mr. Friedman wearing?”
“I don’t recall. I think he was wearing a sweatshirt andsweatpants.”
“Was the light on?”
He scowls.
“No.”
“Did you see Mr. Friedman touch Ms. Kennedy?”
“No.”
“And was Ms. Kennedy under the covers?”
“Yes. The covers were pulled up over her body.”
“I see. Yet you just testified that Ms. Kennedy appeared to benaked.”
“Yes. From where I stood, she appeared to be naked.”
“But you just said she was under the covers.”
“I could still see her.”
“But she may have been wearing clothes or pajamas or a sweat suit,right?”
“I suppose that’s possible.”
“And you were looking through a twelve-inch gap in the door into a darkroom?”
“Yes.”
Now, the kill.
“Mr. Patton, did you actually see Mr. Friedman and Ms. Kennedy inbed together that night?”
“No.”
“Did you see them have any physical contact that night?”
Skipper’s up.
“Asked and answered, Your Honor.”
“Overruled.”
“No,” Patton says, “I cannot confirm that they had any physical contactthat night.”
So far, so good. Now, we’ll see if Skipper is awake over there.
“Mr. Patton, isn’t it true there was a social gathering at your roomthat same night?”
“I don’t recall.”
Skipper, wake up. You should start objecting now.
“Mr. Patton, I was there that night. I can provide a copy of theinvitation for the party that night.” It’s nice of Skipper to let metestify. He should be up on his feet screaming. I glance over andMcNulty’s whispering frantically into his ear.
“Yes, Mr. Daley,” Patton says.
“There was a party in my room that night.”
“Good. And was Ms. Kennedy there?”
“Yes.”
“Isn’t it a fact, Mr. Patton, that Ms. Kennedy left the partybecause she was upset?”
“I don’t recall.”
“Let me refresh your memory. Isn’t it true she left the party becauseshe was upset when you demanded that she sleep with you?”
The courtroom roars. Brown pounds his gavel. Rabbi Friedman whispersto Naomi.
“Objection, Your Honor. There’s no foundation for this.”
Look who woke up.
“Overruled.”
Patton is grinning.
“I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about.”
“Isn’t it true, Mr. Patton, that you followed Ms. Kennedy to her roomafter she rejected your advances?”
Skipper’s up.
“Objection, Your Honor. The witness has indicated that he doesn’t knowanything about this alleged incident if, in fact, it took place.”
“Overruled.”
“Isn’t it true, Mr. Patton, that you attacked Ms. Kennedy in herroom, and she went to Mr. Friedman’s room for protection? And isn’tit true you went down to Mr. Friedman’s room so you could telleveryone you saw Ms. Kennedy and Mr.
Friedman in bed together if Ms. Kennedy ever accused you of sexualharassment?”
Skipper starts to get red in the face as he screams his objection.Before the judge can rule, Patton stands up and shouts, “That’s alie!”
Judge Brown slams his gavel on the little wooden base. I look atNaomi, who gives me an approving nod. Patton regains his composure andsits down.
Judge Brown looks at me.
“The objection is sustained,” he says in a measured tone.
“No further questions, Your Honor.” If Joel is going on trial, Simpsonand Gates is going on trial with him.
After brief closing arguments, Skipper makes his motion to bind Joelover for trial. I move for dismissal. Skipper’s motion is granted andmine is denied.
“Mr. Daley,” Judge Brown says, “I assume you’ll want to move for achange of venue.”
“No, Your Honor, we’re perfectly happy to stay here in SanFrancisco.”
He’s surprised.
“May I assume your client will waive time?”
I don’t hesitate.
“No, Your Honor, my client will not waive time. We want a trial dateas soon as possible. We want to go in sixty days—sooner, if wecan.”
I don’t know who looks more dumbfounded—Skipper or the judge. Skipperstands up and says, “Your Honor, we have a very tight schedule at theDA’s office. It is highly unusual for a suspect not to waive time in atrial of this complexity. Highly unusual.”
“Your Honor,” I say, “this is a simple case. My client has a statutoryright to a trial in sixty days. We’ll take the first trial date you’vegot. If Mr. Gates insists on proceeding with this unsubstantiatedcase, we want to clear Mr.
Friedman’s name right away. Mr. Gates just started at the DA’soffice. He couldn’t have filled his schedule yet.” I get a smatteringof chuckles from the gallery.
Judge Brown gives me a skeptical look.
“Mr. Daley, are you sure about this?”
No, I think my client is out of his mind.
“Yes, Your Honor. We won’t waive time.”
“Very well.” He looks at his calendar and confers with his clerk.
“I’m setting trial for March sixteenth in superior court before JudgeShirley Chen.”
I frown. Brown looks at me.
“Is there a problem with that, Mr. Daley?”
“No problem at all.” Judge Chen is a newly appointed superior courtjudge.
She’s another former prosecutor who will be presiding over her firstmurder trial. Another lousy draw for us.
“Good. Pretrial motions on March ninth.” He pounds his gavel andsays, “We’re done.”
CHAPTER 20
MOVIE NIGHT
“We have no intention of discussing a plea bargain.”
—skipper gates. news center 4 daybreak. wednesday, january 21.
Lights! Camera! Movie night! We have gathered in Rabbi Friedman’sliving room at six o’clock the next evening to view the securityvideotapes from the night of the “incident,” as we have taken tocalling it. True to her word, Sandra Wilson has provided six hours ofgrainy footage. Hopefully, we’ll be able to use the fast-forwardbutton liberally. All things considered, I’d rather be over at Joel’shouse watching The Lion King video with his kids.
Joel fiddles with the VCR. His father sits in a tall, uncomfortable-looking chair in front of the TV, drinking a Sprite. Rosie and I siton the sofa, our notepads poised. Mort is in a side chair near the TV.He won’t be taking notes.
He reminds us he’s terribly nearsighted. Joel’s mother is watching thekids again, so Naomi has joined us. She sits on the floor in front ofthe TV, her legs crossed. I haven’t talked to her since the hearingyesterday. She seems to be holding up reasonably well. It must betough on the kids. In a modest concession to whimsy at this otherwisestoic gathering, she’s made popcorn.
Pete stands behind the sofa, clutching a clipboard with a printoutlisting all the people who ran their security cards through thecomputer scanner to check in or out of the Bank of America Building onthe night of December 30. He has a separate list of those who signedin or out by hand. He studies his lists. We’re trying to confirm whattime everybody came and went.
And we’re looking for inconsistencies between the tapes and the lists,if there are any.
During the evening hours at the Bank of America Building, pedestriantraffic is funneled toward one exit door in the lobby and toward theescalator to the garage. There are two video cameras in the lobby, oneon each side of the guard desk. There’s a camera by each of the sixelevator banks. There is a service elevator that stops at every floor,but you need a key to use it. There are stairs, of course, but theaccess doors to the office floors are kept locked.