I closed the phone and made sure to turn it off. I went back into the courtroom wondering if I was doing something good or making the kind of mistake that would catch up and bite me on the ass.
It was perfect timing. The judge finished with the last motion as I came back in. I saw that a deputy district attorney named Don Pierce was sitting at the prosecution table, ready to go with the sentencing. He was an ex-navy guy who kept the crew cut going and was one of the regulars at cocktail hour at Four Green Fields. I quickly packed all the files back into my bag and wheeled it through the gate to the defense table.
“Well,” the judge said, “I see the Lone Ranger rides again.”
She said it with a smile and I smiled back at her.
“Yes, Your Honor. Nice to see you.”
“I haven’t seen you in quite a while, Mr. Haller.”
Open court was not the place to tell her where I had been. I kept my responses short. I spread my hands as if presenting the new me.
“All I can say is, I’m back now, Judge.”
“I’m glad to see that. Now, you are here in place of Mr. Vincent, is that correct?”
It was said in a routine tone. I could tell she did not know about Vincent’s demise. I knew I could keep the secret and get through the sentencing with it. But then she would hear the story and wonder why I hadn’t brought it up and told her. It was not a good way to keep a judge on your side.
“Unfortunately, Your Honor,” I said, “Mr. Vincent passed away last night.”
The judge’s eyebrows arched in shock. She had been a longtime prosecutor before being a longtime judge. She was wired into the legal community and most likely knew Jerry Vincent well. I had just hit her with a major jolt.
“Oh, my, he was so young!” she exclaimed. “What happened?”
I shook my head like I didn’t know.
“It wasn’t a natural death, Your Honor. The police are investigating it and I don’t really know a lot about it other than that he was found in his car last night at his office. Judge Holder called me in today and appointed me replacement counsel. That’s why I am here for Mr. Reese.”
The judge looked down and took a moment to get over her shock. I felt bad about being the messenger. I bent down and pulled the Edgar Reese file out of my bag.
“I’m very sorry to hear this,” the judge finally said.
I nodded in agreement and waited.
“Very well,” the judge said after another long moment. “Let’s bring the defendant out.”
Jerry Vincent garnered no further delay. Whether the judge had suspicions about Jerry or the life he led, she didn’t say. But life would move on in the Criminal Courts Building. The wheels of justice would grind without him.
The message from Lorna Taylor was short and to the point. I got it the moment I turned my phone on after leaving the courtroom and seeing Edgar Reese get his five years. She told me she had just been in touch with Judge Holder’s clerk about obtaining the court order the bank was requiring before putting Lorna’s and my names on the Vincent bank accounts. The judge had agreed to draw up the order and I could just walk down the hallway to her chambers to pick it up.
The courtroom was once again dark but the judge’s clerk was in her pod next to the bench. She still reminded me of my third-grade teacher.
“Mrs. Gill?” I said. “I’m supposed to pick up an order from the judge.”
“Yes, I think she still has it with her in chambers. I’ll go check.”
“Any chance I could get in there and talk to her for a few minutes, too?”
“Well, she has someone with her at the moment but I will check.”
She got up and went down the hallway located behind the clerk’s station. At the end was the door to the judge’s chambers and I watched her knock once before being summoned to enter. When she opened the door, I could see a man sitting in the same chair I had sat in a few hours earlier. I recognized him as Judge Holder’s husband, a personal-injury attorney named Mitch Lester. I recognized him from the photograph on his ad. Back when he was doing criminal defense we had once shared the back of the Yellow Pages, my ad taking the top half and his the bottom. He hadn’t worked criminal cases in a long time.
A few minutes later Mrs. Gill came out carrying the court order I needed. I thought this meant I wasn’t going to get in to see the judge but Mrs. Gill told me I would be allowed back as soon as the judge finished up with her visitor.
It wasn’t enough time to continue my review of the files in my roller bag, so I wandered the courtroom, looking around and thinking about what I was going to say to the judge. At the empty bailiff’s desk, I looked down and scanned a calendar sheet from the week before. I knew the names of several of the attorneys who were listed and had been scheduled for emergency hearings and motions. One of them was Jerry Vincent on behalf of Walter Elliot. It had probably been one of Jerry’s last appearances in court.
After three minutes I heard a bell tone at the clerk’s station and Mrs. Gill said I was free to go back to the judge’s chambers.
