When she'd all but demanded this appointment after Stuart's arrest, Jackman had been uncharacteristically impatient, as though he found Gina's position-that her client was truly innocent-somehow distasteful. He'd granted the meeting, she felt, as a personal favor, rather than a professional courtesy. And this was another source of real discomfort.
Now she heard the door open behind her and turned to see her old friend, the city's chief prosecutor-all six feet four, two hundred and fifty pounds of him-standing in the entrance to his office. As always, Jackman wore a perfectly tailored suit, today in a dark blue, with a light pink shirt and muted blue tie. His face, though smiling in greeting, was a slab of jet-black granite under a tight gray buzz cut. He tended to speak very quietly, but the pitch of his voice was so deep, it seemed to resonate in her bones when he said, "Aha! And here's my favorite defense attorney now."
If Gina was Jackman's favorite, she would not like to imagine how the scene would feel to someone he liked a little less.
It was all low-key and ostensibly cordial, of course. Clarence didn't go to his power position behind his desk, but he made sure Gina was comfortably seated in the upholstered chair out in the living room section of his office, that she had a fresh cup of good coffee, that business and her health were both good. Preliminaries out of the way, he got himself situated on the leather couch across from her, coming forward with an open expression, elbows on his knees. "Now, Gina," he began with the voice of God, "how may I help you?"
"I guess the best thing you could do, Clarence-for me, for my client Mr. Gorman, and maybe for you yourself-would be to drop this insane prosecution, at least until Gerry Abrams gets some evidence that might tie my client to the crime of killing his wife."
Jackman's face was set in a patient neutrality. "I take it you're convinced of Mr. Gorman's innocence."
"That's not the point, sir. The point is that Mr. Abrams and Inspector Juhle have worked this case from the beginning with a presumption of Mr. Gorman's guilt, and not his innocence. And without that presumption, that illegal and unethical presumption of guilt, there is simply no case against him."
Jackman, nodding thoughtfully, said, "What about the neighbor girl who saw his car?"
"Excuse me, sir, but she allegedly saw his car. She never saw him, Clarence, because he wasn't there. The People have to prove he was there. I don't have to prove he wasn't. That's exactly what I'm talking about."
"And your client's threats to her?"
"He never made threats, Clarence."
"That's not what she said. It's not how she felt."
"He never saw her."
"I hope you're not denying that his daughter did see her. Twice."
"To find out what she really saw. That was all."
The DA appeared to be considering her words. "All right. Let's even, between you and me, grant that. How do you explain the attempt at CPR?"
The question was unnerving. Jackman had apparently been thoroughly briefed on the details of the case. He'd been prepped by Gerry Abrams and looked like he was going to be ready for her objections. But she wasn't going to roll over without a fight. "Frankly, I don't know what made him do that. Panic, frustration, a last-ditch hope? Her body was still warm, remember. He just couldn't give up without trying something."
"And the domestic violence? His arrest some years before? What about those? Inadmissible? Irrevelant?"
"Maybe both, really. But the truth about those, Clarence, is that both times the police were called out to their house, it was because of fights they were having with their daughter."
"Says he."
"Well… yes."
"Have you talked to the daughter about that? And even if you have, don't you think that if it could have a bearing on saving her father from going to prison, she might decide it's okay to lie about that? This is the same girl who went across the street and threatened her neighbor, right? I can't see that a little perjury for her father's sake would bother her much." Jackman pushed himself back into the couch and straightened his back. "I am not prejudging your client, Gina, but you keep referring to the lack of evidence in this case, and I'm not at all certain I agree with you." "I'm talking about physical evidence."
"I understand that. And of course that's the strategy for your position. But it's also one that either denies the existence of or willfully ignores a rather substantial circumstantial case."
"If it was so substantial, Clarence, why didn't Abrams take it to the grand jury first?"
Jackman raised his shoulders, then let them fall. "He didn't want to wait to call them into special session. He was concerned about your client's flight risk. He became convinced-because of the weight of circumstantial evidence that he and Inspector Juhle had amassed- that your client needed to be in jail."
Gina opened her mouth to respond, but Jackman cut her off before she could say a word. "And I must add that your client's behavior after he found out about the warrant-harassing private citizens, carrying a loaded firearm…"
"On that, Clarence, if Juhle hadn't broken our deal, that gun would have been back in Stuart's safe the next morning…"
"Ah, but as it was, it turned out that your client had the gun with him at the precise time that you were telling Inspector Juhle he didn't." For the first time, Jackman's tone grew firm. "You don't lie to policemen, Gina. You're an officer of the court. I don't know what you were thinking. What if Juhle had gone to make his arrest and somehow acted on your assurance that Mr. Gorman was unarmed? Does the potential for disaster there escape you?"
Chastised, and justly so, Gina still held her ground. "We made a deal, Clarence. If Juhle broke the deal, how is that my fault?"
"Because his mandate is not to keep deals with defense attorneys. His mandate is to arrest murder suspects when a judge has seen fit to issue a warrant. If he can do that before the time you arranged, that's what he needs to do. We don't let suspected murderers go have a latte until it's to their convenience to appear for their arrest. We arrest them. Surely this is obvious enough."
"Surely it's equally obvious," she retorted, "that with so little evidence, Gerry Abrams hurried this arrest so he could get his name in the paper, Clarence. That's what that is about."
Jackman's voice rumbled. "That allegation is beneath you, Gina. Mr. Abrams has never before been a hound for the press. He has a consistent and unified theory on this case. I talked to him at some length just yesterday and he is convinced that the-granted, heavily circumstantial-evidence allows for no other conclusion, beyond reasonable doubt in his mind, that your client killed his wife."
"That's just a knee-jerk prosecutor's reaction, Clarence. You know that."
If he did, he didn't acknowledge it. "Well," Jackman sighed. "If his evidence is flawed or inconclusive, it seems to me that it's to your advantage. You pressed for an early preliminary hearing-tomorrow if I'm not mistaken, right?-and no doubt that request has hampered and will hamper the People's ability to build an impregnable case." He spread his hands out. "I don't really know what you'd like me to do, Gina. Which is how we began here today. I'm not going to overrule Mr. Abrams. He's built a case that will either fly or not on its merits. That's how we do it."
"Stuart's an innocent man, Clarence. Someone else killed his wife. Not him."
"That's why we have trials, Gina. And hearings. Mr. Abrams has to prove that, and it's your job to stop him if you can."
"Maybe, but it shouldn't have even been allowed to get to this stage. They have nothing. This is just wrong, Clarence."