"That's him," Pauline confirmed. "I met with him earlier today. He's a very unlikable man, very arrogant, very self-centered, but he seems competent at this criminal defense thing. Hopefully he'll be able to get some of the charges dropped."
"Hopefully," Jake said. "How's National taking all of this?"
She shrugged. "Not as badly as you might think. I talked to Doolittle earlier and was almost flippant about Matt's arrest. He came across like this was all just routine annoyance."
"To him, it probably is," Jake said.
"He told me to tell you that when Matt gets out on bail he wants you all to keep rehearsing the tour. He has every intention of leaving on schedule."
Matt had a bail hearing at ten o'clock, Monday morning before a Superior Court judge in Santa Ana. Every seat in the courtroom was filled with reporters, Intemperance fans, and general celebrity watchers. Matt was brought in by two uniformed Orange County sheriff's deputies. He was dressed in a black jumpsuit with ORANGE COUNTY PRISONER printed in white in several places. He had shackles on his hands and feet. His entire face was a kaleidoscope of black and blue bruises. His left eye was swollen shut and there were several places where stitches had closed up open wounds. The deputies directed him to a table where his lawyer was already seated.
Perceville Maywood was short and of very slight build. He was dressed impeccably in a three thousand dollar power suit. His hair was perfectly styled, his fingernails were professionally manicured, and even his eyebrows had been neatly waxed. A Louis Vuitton briefcase was open on the table before him.
At the other table was the prosecutor from the Orange County District Attorney's office. His name was Jonathan Sparks and he was a member of the office's high profile crimes section. Since the job of this particular section was to deal with celebrity prosecutions and infamous, high media attention cases, his rugged good looks had been an unofficial requirement for selection. He was in his early forties, had a head of neat salt and pepper hair, and dressed as impeccably, if not as expensively, as his adversary.
The judge assigned to the case was Margaret Waters, a former deputy DA who had been appointed to the bench six years before. She was in her early fifties but carried it well. Her face was without a wrinkle and her brown hair was without a strand of grey in it. She looked quite resplendent in her black robe as she called the hearing to order.
Matt did not say so much as a single word during the entire proceeding. Jonathan Sparks read the crimes that Matt was accused of and outlined the sheer amounts of cocaine and marijuana that had been found in Matt's house. He held up CSI pictures of the Orange County deputies that Matt had injured during the fight to take him into custody. He outlined the residential streets that Matt had sped through during the pursuit, making sure Her Honor understood that this reckless behavior had taken place in broad daylight on a weekend afternoon.
"Quite frankly, Your Honor," Sparks said, "I find it quite miraculous that no children were killed by Mr. Tisdale during this chase. He certainly showed no consideration for the fact that there might be children present."
Sparks concluded his presentation by theorizing that Matt Tisdale was a threat to public safety, a hopeless alcoholic and cocaine addict, and, because he was a man of means who owned a house in Mexico, a considerable flight risk. He asked that bail be denied and that Mr. Tisdale be held in the Orange County jail facility until trial.
Perceville Maywood (who would furiously correct anyone who dared call him Percy) then presented Matt's side of the debate over bail. He spoke with a high, reedy, arrogant voice and explained that Mr. Tisdale was an established member of the San Juan Capistrano community who owned a house there. He was an established musician whose very livelihood was centered in Hollywood. He explained how regretful Mr. Tisdale was about his ill-advised actions and that Mr. Tisdale was strongly considering rehab to help him with his addictions. In short, he requested that Mr. Tisdale be released on his own recognizance without restrictions while awaiting trial.
Judge Waters weighed these arguments for a few minutes and then announced her decision. "Mr. Tisdale is accused of some very serious crimes against the State of California," she said. "However, I do not see him as a significant flight risk. Bail will be set at one hundred thousand dollars with the following restrictions. Mr. Tisdale, you are not to consume alcohol or use illegal drugs while out on bail. You are not to drive any motorized vehicle. You are not to leave the State of California and you are most assuredly not to leave the United States. I cannot order you into rehabilitation at this particular phase of your criminal proceedings, but I would strongly suggest you voluntarily commit yourself to treatment."
"Your Honor, I must object," said Sparks indignantly. "Mr. Tisdale is a multi-millionaire. One hundred thousand dollars is pocket change to him."
"That is the standard bail amount for crimes of this magnitude," Waters replied. "I cannot adjust the amount based on the net worth of the accused. My ruling stands." She pounded her gavel.
The two sheriff's deputies helped Matt to his feet. He conferred in whispered tones with Perceville for a few minutes and then they led him out the door. He was taken back to the Orange County jail facility where he made a single phone call to his accounting firm, ordering them to wire one hundred thousand dollars into a certain Orange County escrow account. Ten minutes later, it was done. After forty-five minutes of paperwork, Matt turned in his black jumpsuit and was given back his belongings. He changed into the fresh pair of jeans and the Black Sabbath t-shirt his limo driver had brought Perceville to bring to him. As soon as he was dressed, he and Perceville walked out the door and into a crowd of reporters and photographers.
"Don't say anything to them," Perceville said. "In all matters related to this case, let me do the talking."
"Right," Matt said.
"Matt," a reporter screamed. "Tell us what happened! Did the deputies really beat you?"
"Matt," another screamed, "Why did you run from them? Were you really transporting drugs from Mexico?"
Other questions followed, most even more ridiculous in nature. Perceville held up his hand and then, once everyone quieted down, gave a brief statement.
"Mr. Tisdale was not transporting or selling drugs at the time of his arrest, nor has he ever been involved in the sale of drugs. The police pursuit itself was a result of a simple misunderstanding combined with some overzealous law enforcement officers. The entire situation is something that ended up being blown completely out of proportion. Mr. Tisdale has admitted to having a problem with alcohol and will be looking into rehab facilities as soon as he gets home. As for the sheriff's deputies at Mr. Tisdale's house, their behavior was..."
"Whoa," Matt suddenly spoke up. "What the fuck do you mean I got a problem with alcohol? I never admitted no shit like that!"
"Matt," Perceville whispered, "I told you to..."
"Are you saying you don't have a drinking problem, Matt?" a reporter asked.
"Hell no!" Matt said. "I ain't never had no problem drinking."
The crowd laughed at his joke.
"What about the altercation with the sheriff's deputies?" someone asked. "Did you resist arrest?"
"They were just pissed off because I got away from their asses when they were chasing me," Matt said.
"Matt!" Perceville hissed. "Shut up, right now!"
"So you admit running from them?" the reporter asked hungrily.