"Yes, Your Honour," replied Bellarosa in a pleasant voice. She looked down at the charge sheet that had been handed to her and scanned it for a minute, then read the charge of murder to Bellarosa and asked him, "Do you understand the charge against you?"
"Yes, Your Honour."
"And have you seen a copy of the indictment?"
"No, Your Honour."
Judge Rosen turned to me. "Have you been given a copy of the indictment, Mr Sutter?"
"No, Your Honour."
Judge Rosen looked at the Assistant U.S. Attorney and addressed her by name. "Miss Larkin, why hasn't the accused or defence counsel seen a copy of the indictment?"
"I'm not sure why the accused hasn't, Judge. But defence counsel was not present during the processing of the accused this morning."
Judge Rosen said, "He's here now. Give him a copy of the indictment."
"Yes, Your Honour."
I went to the prosecution table, and Miss Larkin handed me a thick sheaf of papers. I made eye contact with her, and she said, "Perhaps you'd like a few hours to read that. I have no objection to a second call on this arraignment." "I do."
Judge Rosen said, "Mr Sutter, will you waive your client's right to a public reading of the indictment?"
I didn't have to, of course, and I could have had the indictment read line by line for the next few hours. In the eighteenth century, when people had more time and indictments were handwritten and a lot shorter, part of the drama was the reading of the grand jury's findings. But the fastest way to piss off Judge Rosen was to exercise any right that took more than two minutes of the court's time. I said, therefore, "Though we have not had an opportunity to read the indictment, we waive a public reading of it."
She inquired of me, "Have you seen the arrest warrant, Mr Sutter?"
"I have."
"And you have heard the charge read by me in open court?"
"We have."
She nodded and looked at Frank Bellarosa. "How do you plead to the charge?" "Not guilty!" he replied in a tone of voice that sounded almost aggrieved, as if a monumental injustice was being done.
Judge Rosen nodded, somewhat inattentively, I thought. Someday, someone would shout out to her, "Guilty as charged!" But she wouldn't hear it, nor would it register. She then said to Bellarosa, "You also have the right to be released on a reasonable bail."
That was true, but it wasn't likely.
Judge Rosen looked at me and said, "However, in a case of murder, Mr Sutter, I do not grant bail. Furthermore, under federal law in a case involving narcotics, which in a manner of speaking this case does, there is a presumption against the defendant. But I assume you want to say something to me which would overcome that presumption."
"Yes, Your Honour. May I confer with my client for a moment?"
"If you wish."
I leaned toward Bellarosa and said, "We were delayed." I explained briefly. He nodded and said, "They don't play fair. See?" He added, "Hey, I heard of this judge. She's a tough bitch. They made sure she was doing arraignments this morning. Understand?"
I regarded Judge Rosen a moment. She was a woman of about forty-five, young for a federal judge, and somewhat attractive, if you're into stern-looking women. I didn't think my boyish-charm routine would do me any good, unless she happened to get off on scolding boyish men. You have to play every angle. Judge Rosen looked at the Assistant U.S. Attorney and asked her, "Miss Larkin? Do you wish to say something?"
Miss Larkin replied, "Your Honour, in view of the presumption under the statute, the government requests that Frank Bellarosa be detained. However, if the court is inclined to hear arguments for bail, the government is entitled to and requests a three-day continuance for a bail hearing."
"Why?"
"So that the government can gather evidence for the court to show why the accused should be detained."
Judge Rosen said to me, "Is that all right with you, Mr Sutter?"
"No, Your Honour. It isn't."
"Why not, Mr Sutter?"
"I don't see any reason for my client to sit in jail for three days. The government has been investigating this case since January. They know everything they're going to know about my client already, and it's not likely they are going to learn anything new in the next seventy-two hours." Judge Rosen nodded and said to Miss Larkin, "Request denied." Miss Larkin did not look happy. She said to Judge Rosen, "Well, then, Your Honour, the U.S. Attorney would most probably wish to be present for any discussion of bail."
"Why?"
Miss Larkin replied, "Because of the… the seriousness of the charge and the notoriety of the accused."
Judge Rosen looked at me. "Mr Sutter? Would you like some time to confer with your client? We can schedule a bail hearing for this afternoon." I replied, "No, Your Honour. We have entered a plea of not guilty, and we request bail in the amount of one hundred thousand dollars, which we are prepared to post right now."
Judge Rosen's eyebrows rose at that statement. She turned her attention back to Miss Larkin and said, "If Mr Ferragamo wished to be here for this arraignment, he should be here now. The attorney for the accused has indicated that he wants to discuss bail at this time." Judge Rosen added, "I assume you have read the indictment and are familiar with this case, Miss Larkin. I'm sure you can present the government's arguments for detention."
The subtext here was that it wasn't necessary to bother the U.S. Attorney since no bail was going to be granted anyway, and let's get on with it. But Miss Larkin, at a young age, had developed a nose for trouble, and she knew her limitations, which marked her as a potentially great attorney. She replied, "Your Honour, will you instruct the deputy to call Mr Ferragamo's office and pass on my request for his presence? In the meantime, we can proceed." Judge Rosen motioned to her courtroom deputy, who disappeared into the judge's robing room to make the call. I wondered how fast Ferragamo could run in wing tips.
I looked into the courtroom and saw that the word had gotten out and the room was packed. In the jury box were the three sketch artists, scratching away at their pads now. I brushed my hair with my fingers.
Judge Rosen said to me, "Mr Sutter, go ahead and present your argument for bail."
"Yes, Your Honour." You could literally hear ballpoint pens clicking in the courtroom behind me. Courtrooms don't terrify me the way they do some lawyers. But in this case, I had some real anxieties, and the cause of those anxieties was not the audience or Miss Larkin or the judge, but my client, who wanted to be on his way in ten minutes.
I spoke in a normal conversational tone, but I sensed that I could be heard clear to the back of the silent court. I said, "Your Honour, first I want to bring to your attention the fact that my client had previous knowledge, through the newspapers, that the U.S. Attorney was presenting evidence of murder to a grand jury. He made no attempt to flee during that time. And furthermore, anticipating that an indictment might be handed down and an arrest warrant issued, he instructed me to remain available in that event. He, too, remained available for arrest, and in fact, when the arrest came at approximately eight A.M. this morning, I was with him and can attest to the fact that he made no attempt to flee or resist." I added, "If the arresting officer, Mr Mancuso, is here, he, too, can attest to that."
Judge Rosen looked toward the side door, then out into the court. "Is Mr Mancuso present?"
A voice called out from the side of the court. "Here, Your Honour." As Mr Mancuso made his way through the standing-room-only crowd, I said to Bellarosa, "They tried to send me to Brooklyn. Your buddy Alphonse is a snake." He smiled. "Yeah, we shoulda known they'd pull some stunt. I never got to FBI headquarters neither. Mancuso gets this call on the radio, and next thing I know, we're pulling up to the back of the courthouse. You see what I mean? Fucking Alphonse."