“It’s good Hattie was there.”
“Yes,” Bennie said, having suddenly run out of conversation. She didn’t want to talk. She didn’t want to be touched. She wanted only to go upstairs, lie down, and feel miserable. Maybe treat herself to another good, long cry. “Can I go now?” she blurted out, and Grady laughed abruptly and released her.
“Sure, honey, I’m sorry.”
“I’m just tired. I need to lie down.” She felt a nudge against her leg and looked down at the golden retriever leaning into her, his tail down. Bear’s body warmed her thigh, and she scratched the flyaway hair behind his ear. “Dogs are good,” she said, her voice thick.
“Let’s go upstairs. I’ll tuck you in.”
“I can tuck myself in.”
“Whether you know it or not, you need me now. I’m taking you upstairs and putting you to bed. Understand?”
Bennie smiled, though somehow even that hurt. “Okay,” she said, and permitted herself to be led upstairs to bed and tucked in like a very small girl.
43
Early next morning, Judy stood in the sunny conference room and read the faxed order again and again, as if that would change the result: “IT IS HEREBY ORDERED that the Defense Counsel’s Motion for Withdrawal and, In the Alternative, for a Postponement is hereby DENIED.” “I don’t get this,” Judy said. “How could he deny it?”
“Guthrie denied our motion, in its entirety? No withdrawal? Not even a continuance?” Mary, standing next to her, flipped over the top page of the order. “There’s not even an opinion. There’s no explanation at all.”
“He doesn’t have to explain anything, he’s a judge.”
“This is a sin. Bennie can’t possibly work this case. Her mother just died, for God’s sake. He can’t give her a week off, even three days?”
Judy shook her head. “I guess he’s figuring that she got the standard three days, if you count from Thursday. That would be Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Jury selection is set for this Monday, with opening arguments right afterwards.”
“Can we file an appeal?”
Judy looked over. “No, whiz. It’s an interlocutory order, not appealable until the case is over.”
“I knew that. It was a trick question.”
Judy smiled, thinking. “I suppose we could file some kind of emergency order or maybe a petition for misconduct, but that wouldn’t help. The Superior Court wouldn’t intervene on an emergency basis for something within a judge’s discretion. Even if we filed a misconduct petition, the only remedy is a reprimand.”
“I knew that, too.”
“What did you know?”
“What you said.”
Judy smiled, then it faded quickly. “I hate to bother Bennie with this. Do I have to call her at home?”
“Of course. We have no choice. She can work at home if we feed her the information we have.” Mary gestured at the papers on the conference table. “I found out Burden’s still out of the country, I can write her a memo. I can dictate my notes on the neighborhood survey and send her a copy by messenger. Then I could draft a cross-examination of the Commonwealth witnesses.”
“That should help.”
“I’m a fountain of helpfulness. What are you going to do?”
“Correct your work, as always,” Judy said, and reached for the phone to call Bennie.
At home, Bennie sat on the edge of the bed in her white terrycloth bathrobe, holding the phone after the associate briefed her fully and hung up. Bennie couldn’t think of a single judge who would have denied that request, at least for the postponement, and it was out of character for the well-bred Harrison Guthrie. Stunned, she held the telephone receiver in midair, and Grady plucked it from her hand and placed it on the cradle.
“Why did he deny it?” Grady asked. He was dressed in jeans and a gray T-shirt, and he’d gotten up early, brewed fresh coffee, and made French toast that Bennie hadn’t touched.
“We don’t know. There was no opinion, just the order.”
“He denied the postponement, too? What could he be thinking?”
“God knows.” Bennie shook her head. Her temples throbbed and her eyes felt dry and sticky. She sagged with exhaustion after a sleepless night. Bear trotted over, setting his large head on her thigh, and she scratched it idly. “Maybe my motion wasn’t good enough. Maybe I should have found a case, some precedent.”
“No.” Grady folded his arms. “That wouldn’t make the difference. He’s on solid grounds legally, but as a matter of custom, you think at least he’d give you a postponement. It’s common decency.”
“Maybe it was the press coverage. Maybe he wants it over with.”
“That can’t be it. This decision will cause more criticism, won’t it? When it gets out that your mother has passed and he wouldn’t even grant a week’s extension? Hell, everybody’s got a mother. Guthrie’s got to run for reelection some day.”
“He’s getting on, maybe he’s not worried about reelection,” Bennie said, but even as she spoke she knew it didn’t make sense. All judges worried about reelection, if not their reputation. “It’s like he’s hell-bent on screwing me.”
“That’s possible. You’re not the most popular lawyer in town, except with me.”
“Wait a minute,” Bennie said, her brain waking up suddenly. Maybe it was personal, but maybe it wasn’t directed at her. What had Connolly said, that first day they met? I think the judge is in on it, too. “Maybe Judge Guthrie is in on it.”
“In on what?”
“A conspiracy against Connolly.”
“A what?”
“Think about it, Grady. Who gets hurt most by this decision? Connolly.” Bennie’s thoughts cleared like fog. It all fell into place. “I’m sitting here, all wrapped up in myself, but it’s Connolly’s life on the line. With this ruling, she gets stuck with a lawyer who doesn’t have the time or the energy to prepare for trial. What does that do to her chance of winning?”
“But a conspiracy, involving Guthrie?”
“It’s not impossible. Somebody’s taking aim, and I’m not the target, she is. Think back. First, somebody leaks to the press that Connolly’s my twin. Second, somebody at the bar association starts screwing with my license. Third, I don’t get the extension the first time I apply, even though it was reasonable. Now I don’t get an extension even after my mother passes. It stinks, Grady, and it goes all the way up to Judge Guthrie.”
“Bennie.” Grady grabbed a chair, yanked it across the plywood subfloor toward the bed, and sat down. “Listen to yourself. You’re saying that a Common Pleas Court judge is plotting against a criminal defendant. How likely is that?”
“It’s possible,” Bennie said, alert for the first time in what seemed like years. “Guthrie got his judgeship because of Henry Burden. Burden was the D.A. and knows everybody in law enforcement. Connolly says the cops framed her for this, and the police response to the scene-the timing-is suspicious. Even if Connolly was selling drugs-”
“Connolly was selling drugs?” Grady interrupted, and Bennie realized she hadn’t told him that.
“Grady, assume the cops killed Della Porta and framed Connolly for it, why can’t a judge be involved, too? You never heard of judicial corruption? On the Common Pleas Court bench? Please. Years ago the roofers were paying cash for cases, Grady. Cash.”
“Connolly is a liar. She’s lying about being framed and she’s lying about being your twin. Now you’re telling me she’s a drug dealer? She’s manipulating-”
“We don’t know she lied about any of that, Grady. She agreed to the DNA test, did I tell you that? We both gave blood yesterday. Or the day before that.” Bennie rubbed her eyes. Her mother’s death had chased every other thought from her head.