“That’s correct,” says Templeton. “The district attorney’s office offers no opposition, Your Honor.”
“Your Honor, if I may.” With the sound of Kim Howard’s voice, the guy at the other end of the couch has the briefcase open and a thick file out of it.
“I think we can cut through this very quickly,” says Howard. She reaches behind her without looking. Her assistant puts the file in her hand, like a relay runner passing the baton. Howard pulls a sheaf of stapled papers from it, maybe three or four pages, and hands it to the judge.
“I have here a federal court order issued by the federal district court for the District of Colombia removing jurisdiction over this matter, to wit, the motion to produce six identified photographs seized from the defendant in the present case of People of the State of California versus Katia Solaz. Federal removal is grounded on federal question jurisdiction, under statute conferred on the United States Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Court in Washington, D.C.
“As you can see, the order was signed and filed by the district court three days ago.”
“Mr. Madriani, have you seen this?” says Quinn.
“No, Your Honor. This is the first we’ve heard of it.”
Howard snaps her fingers and her assistant produces two copies from the briefcase, one for me and another for Harry.
“Excuse my ignorance,” says Quinn. “But what exactly is the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Court?”
“Perhaps a little background is in order.” This comes from Rhytag.
“Yeah, Jim, I think you’re best to handle that,” says Howard.
“I don’t care who handles it. I just want to know what’s going on.” Quinn doesn’t like being stepped on, even by another judge wearing federal robes.
“The Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act of 1978 established a special federal court entitled the United States Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Court. It also established a special court of review for appeals from the FISC, FISC being shorthand for the court. Since that time the law has been amended under the Patriot Act to change the size and composition of the court, but its purpose remains the same.”
“Which is what?” says Quinn.
“To oversee and adjudicate requests from federal law enforcement agencies for surveillance warrants against suspected foreign intelligence agents operating within the United States. They’re called FISA warrants.”
“Excuse me,” says Quinn, “I know Mr. Templeton just introduced us, but exactly who are you?”
“I’m James Rhytag, deputy assistant attorney general in charge of the Justice Department’s National Security Intelligence Division.”
“That’s quite a title,” says Quinn. “In light of the federal district court’s order, I’m not exactly sure what my role is in this matter any longer. I assume I still have jurisdiction over the criminal case.”
“As far as I know,” says Rhytag.
“That’s big of you,” says Quinn. “So you’re telling us that these photographs, the ones Mr. Madriani and his client want access to, are off limits, under some kind of federal seal, is that it?”
“In a word, yes,” says Rhytag.
“You have anything you’d like to say, Mr. Madriani?” Quinn looks at me.
“Yes, I’d like to know where the photographs are.”
“I’m not at liberty to say,” says Rhytag.
“Maybe I missed something,” I say. “What you’re telling us is that the jurisdiction of this special federal court is limited to the issuance of these surveillance warrants, for spies operating in the United States, is that correct?”
“That’s right,” says Rhytag.
“What do the six photographs have to do with surveillance warrants?” I ask.
“That’s classified. You’re not entitled to know,” says Rhytag.
“Your Honor, what we have here are two murders with a truckload of unanswered questions. We have questions concerning one of the victims, Emerson Pike, and what his background was, how he managed to expedite obtaining a visa to bring the defendant into the country, a U.S. visa that would ordinarily take months but which he was able to obtain from the United States consulate in Costa Rica in three days. You wouldn’t know anything about that?” I put the question to Rhytag.
“Sorry,” he says, and just shakes his head.
“We know that Emerson Pike was obsessed with the photographs in question,” I tell Quinn, “and that the pictures were taken by the defendant’s mother…”
“Where? Where were they taken?” says Rhytag.
I look at him. “If you want to share information, give me copies of the photographs and tell me what you know, and I’ll give you all the information I have, on one condition, that it doesn’t place my client in legal jeopardy.”
“Why don’t you just tell me where the photographs were taken,” says Rhytag. “ Costa Rica? It was Costa Rica, wasn’t it? Why don’t you just tell us what your client has told you and we can get past this very quickly.”
“I assume you’re looking for Mr. Nitikin.” It’s a gamble, but it pays off. Rhytag’s eyeballs nearly come out of his head as he turns to look at me.
“What has she told you?”
What is even more interesting is the confused look on Templeton’s face as he sits there turned around in his chair, looking first at me, and then at Rhytag. Whatever the feds know, they haven’t shared the details with their friendly prosecutor.
“Let us talk to her,” says Rhytag. “We’ll give her use immunity.”
“On what, on the murders?” I ask.
“Not a chance,” says Templeton.
Rhytag leans over toward Templeton, while Kim Howard occupies the Dwarf’s other ear. Howard’s assistant quickly gets up off the end of the couch and stands directly behind the wheelchair to block Harry’s and my view. They huddle in front of the judge’s desk.
“If you want to borrow my chambers to talk for a few minutes, you can have it,” says Quinn. “By the way, who’s Mr. Nitikin?”
Templeton raises a hand to hold off the judge. They confer for a few more seconds before Templeton says, “Okay, all right. Your Honor, I’m not entirely sure what’s happening here, but maybe there is a solution that meets all of our needs. This is what I’m prepared to offer, and I should preface it by saying that I’ll have to clear it with my boss, but I think he’ll go along. Two issues,” he says. Templeton turns in the chair to look at me as Howard’s assistant steps out of the way.
“If she cooperates”-Templeton is talking about Katia-“if she talks to the government and the information she provides is useful and, and this is a big point,” says Templeton, “if she gives up the co-conspirator, whoever helped her at Pike’s house, I’ll entertain an LWOP, reduction to a life term without the possibility of parole.”
“In your dreams,” I tell him.
“That assumes there is a co-conspirator,” says Harry. “How the hell can she give you something that doesn’t exist?”
“We won’t know that until she tells us, will we?” says Templeton. “But I’ve made the offer. Your Honor,” he says, turning back toward the judge, “since the state has now made the offer, and I’ll put it in writing, the offer must be conveyed to the defendant. It’s not within the province of her lawyers to reject it. That decision belongs exclusively to the defendant. They can advise her, but they can’t make the decision for her. And I would ask, so that there is no misunderstanding or confusion as to the terms, that both Mr. Madriani and Mr. Hinds be present when the offer is explained to her.” Templeton looks directly at Harry as he says this. “And I’ll have it translated into Spanish so that she can read it as well. To avoid the death penalty is no trivial matter.”