Score one for Officer Tompkins. “Nonetheless, Officer, before this incident, had you ever seen a similar label?”
“No,” Tompkins admitted.
Hallelujah. “Now let’s talk about this cocaine in the stuffed doll. The doll was not intact when you found it, was it?”
“No. All of the dolls were damaged. A chunk of their midsections had been removed.”
“That’s strange. Why would anyone tear up a bunch of stuffed animals?”
“Possibly a rival member of Lombardi’s organization was searching for the stolen drugs.”
“And somehow that rival member knew to look for the drugs in the stuffed animals?”
“The entire apartment appeared to have been ransacked.”
“Tell me, Officer, if this rival knew to look for the drugs in the dolls, and ripped open the dolls while looking, why didn’t he find and take the drugs?”
There was a short pause. A line appeared between Tompkins’s brows. This question obviously had occurred to him before, and it troubled him.
Suddenly, Derek broke the silence. “Counsel, I think that question calls for speculation. Let’s move on.”
Ben turned slowly toward the bench. “Excuse me, your honor. Was there an objection?”
“No,” Derek said, casting a quick look at Moltke, “although the need was obvious. I’m sure the prosecutor was just being polite. The court, of course, has the inherent discretion to limit speculative testimony. Move on.”
Ben stared at him, speechless. Ben was finally making some headway, and Derek was shutting him down.
“I said, move on, counsel.”
Ben closed his trial notebook. “I have no more questions, your honor. Other than those the court has just forbidden.”
Derek looked at him sharply, but let it pass. Since there was no redirect, the witness stepped down.
“It’s been a long day,” Derek said, “and I don’t want to inundate the jury with too much information at once. We’ll resume tomorrow morning at nine o’clock with the prosecution’s next witness.”
He banged his gavel against the bench. “Court is adjourned.”
36
BEN WAITED UNTIL EVERYONE but the security guards had left. He was overdue at the office. He needed to prepare for the next day’s trial, he needed to see how Christina was holding up, and he needed to contact Wolf’s parents. But he was determined to talk to Derek first.
Derek was still puttering around in chambers—making phone calls and attending to administrative matters. Ben decided to give him time to unwind, take care of his business, and have a quick snort from the bottle of Scotch he’d removed from his bottom desk drawer.
Ben stood just outside the doorway and listened while Derek dialed the phone. “Hello, Louise?…Yeah, I’m still here.…I don’t know, I’ll probably be home in an hour or so.…Of course I’m working, I started a trial today, for God’s sake. Where else would I be?…Look, Louise, I don’t give a good goddamn what you suspect. I’ve been in court all day, and you can take it or leave it.…Yeah, well, the hell with you, too.”
Derek slammed the receiver back into its cradle. Ben heard an undercurrent of indistinct muttering. He decided to give Derek a few more moments to cool off.
After he’d clocked a full minute on his watch, Ben stepped inside. Derek’s chambers seemed sparsely decorated, but to be fair, he’d only been in them about eight months. Ben did see Derek’s Harvard law diploma, squarely placed where it couldn’t be missed, just beneath Derek’s pride and joy, a large stuffed bobcat, poised forever in mid-spring.
He knocked on the open door. “Excuse me, Judge.”
He caught Derek in the middle of chewing another tablet. “Kincaid? What the hell are you doing here?”
“If I may have a minute of your time…”
“Is Moltke outside?”
“No, he left. Press conference, probably.”
Derek drew himself erect. “You want to have an ex parte conversation? Without the presence of opposing counsel? Do you know how improper that is?”
Ben stared at a safe point in the middle of Derek’s desk. “This isn’t about the case. Well, it is, but not about the substance of the evidence or legal issues.”
Derek took another swig from the scotch bottle and washed down the remains of the tablet. “Then what is it you want?”
“I want to ask you…to plead with you, really…to stop taking your hatred of me out on my client. In the courtroom. If it were just me on the firing line, I wouldn’t complain. But someone else’s head is in the noose, and it isn’t fair that she get a bad shake just because you’re holding a grudge against me.”
Derek stared back at Ben, his mouth slightly agape. “I cannot believe…Are you actually suggesting I am biased in my deliberations?”
“Let’s not play games. You’ve ruled against me at every important juncture. Even when you occasionally toss me a bone, you make it clear to the jury that you do so grudgingly. Juries are very good at picking up messages from the judge, and yours are going to be translated into a conviction if you don’t ease off.”
“I do not believe my ears. Bad enough that you barge in here demanding an unethical ex parte conversation. But then you use that time to accuse me of judicial impropriety of the worst order.”
“The pattern of your rulings is clear—”
“Did it ever occur to you that my rulings might be against you because you have a lousy case!” Derek shouted. “Correction. A combination of the fact that you have a lousy case and that you are a lousy attorney.”
“That’s uncalled for.”
“That’s the goddamned truth, you miserable wimp.” He reached into his desk and brought out what Ben now could see was a box of Tums. “I’ve had the worst heartburn all week long. I shouldn’t be surprised. In the world of indigestion, you’re a frigging carrier.”
“Derek, listen—”
“No, you listen to me, Kincaid.” He crunched another tablet. “I tried to work with you back at Raven. With God as my witness, I did. But I could see then you’d never cut it as a litigator, and I was right. You just haven’t got the cajones for it. I said you had to learn to work, not whine. And what is this whole conversation but proof of my point?”
“That’s not fair—”
“Just shut up and listen. You were a whiner then, and you’re a whiner now. Okay, you took some knocks in the courtroom today. Tough, it happens. You should be back at the office working, trying to figure out a way to make the next day go better. Instead, you’re in the judge’s chambers, trying to get an edge on the competition by complaining to the judge when they’re not around.”
“That’s not justified—”
“This whole conversation is not justified, Kincaid! You’ve violated every rule of ethics I know.”
“Which one would that be?”
Derek’s teeth clenched tightly together. “They never should have let you pass the bar. I was right about you back at Raven, and I’m still right.”
“That’s what this is all about, isn’t it?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean Raven, Tucker & Tubb. A year ago. The Sanguine Enterprises fiasco.”
Derek didn’t say anything.
“You lost a big client so, in your infinite pettiness, you got me fired.”
Derek made a pfui sound.
“Haven’t you hurt me enough already? I lost the job with the big firm. I’ve been scrabbling along on my own, one day at a time, barely getting by, for over a year now. Haven’t you exacted your revenge? Isn’t that enough punishment for one lousy client?”
Derek was silent for a long, dreadful time. He placed his palms against his desk, fingers spread wide. “There’s more to it than that,” he said finally.