Read Directed Verdict (Failed Justice Book 1) Online
Authors: Rick Santini
Directed Verdict (Failed Justice Book 1) (26 page)
107 DAYS LATER
Judge Robert Samuel Sugarman felt shunned. As if he had the plague or a highly contagious disease. Judge Saltmeyer had planned well. He did not need some kike judge, one who was controlled by Irv Weinstein, on his team. And there was no question, it was his team. He had no idea what the future held in store for him.
Inmate NJ 237-887-41, known by the inmates and guards as Judge K, was having a difficult time adjusting. He was afraid he would be shanked by someone he had previously sent away. He did not sleep well at night. At times he tried to rest with one eye open. It didn’t work. He was a physical and emotional wreck. He knew he could not handle the term of incarceration. If the appeal, that would take months or years, was not successful, he did not have the strength or the will to live.
Walter Kolkolski was not the first inmate to attempt to take his own life. It was now only a matter of time.
“Judge K, we have orders to transport you back to Superior Court by nine thirty tomorrow morning. Don’t ask why, I am merely following orders.”
Wally couldn’t think of any good reason why. Sugarman, that weasel, couldn’t add on to his sentence. Why would he have to be back in his own courtroom? He tried to call Billy Jo but it was after five p.m. and he was forced to leave a recorded message.
“Why? What’s going on?”
At 9:15 the following morning, with only Ms. Clarke, his own attorney, and a very frustrated judge present, Prisoner NJ 237-887-41, was brought into the courtroom. He was still wearing an orange jumpsuit.
The leg irons and handcuffs had been removed.
“Ms. Clarke, you requested this hearing and I must tell you I am not pleased. Not pleased at all. Please proceed.”
“Yes, Your Honor. It appears, and we have sworn statements that have been verified, and we have independent proof that Juror Seven, Neil O’Brien in
The Matter of State of New Jersey vs. Walter Kolkolski
, did not participate in the final verdict in that case. As a matter of fact, after the second day of trial, Mr. O’Brien had a verbal altercation with another juror, and never returned. We have questioned Mr. O’Brien and his twin brother Teal O’Brien, an identical twin, I might add, who admitted under oath, he appeared in place of Neil and took place in all deliberations. Teal O’Brien was never sworn in as a juror. Ergo, the verdict could not have been unanimous. The State has no choice but to ask the verdict be overturned and set aside as a matter of law.”
Judge Sugarman was livid.
Why did this have to happen to me?
“I am not pleased but it seems I have no choice but to schedule a new trial. Under the circumstances, bail is revoked and the defendant will remain in custody. Is there any other surprises you have for the court this morning, Ms. Clarke?”
“As a matter of fact there is, Judge. After careful deliberation and a review of the complete record, the State does not feel they could obtain a conviction at a new trial. Accordingly, the People hereby withdraw all charges and wish to apologize to Mr. Kolkolski for the complete miscarriage of justice.”
“What? You can’t do that. I found him guilty. I will not allow this to happen. Do you hear me? I refuse to set Mr. Kolkolski free. I refuse.”
“We were afraid you might say that, Judge. That is why we asked for an emergency hearing with Chief Judge Saltmeyer earlier this morning. He will be removing you from the case and is now in the process of signing an order releasing Mr. Kolkolski from any further charges.”
Wally Kolkolski didn’t know what to say. He was again a free man.
The first person he hugged was a startled Marta Clarke. The second was Billy Jo, who had a grin from one ear to the other.
Judge Sugarman stomped out of the courtroom. The deputy sheriff looked around for direction—from anyone.
“You can release him, Deputy. He’s a free man. Arrangements will be made later for his personal effects to be delivered to any place he wants.”
The court attendants and a totally confused deputy looked at Ms. Clarke. She was the ADA, so she must know what she is doing.
“Congratulations, Judge Kolkolski. Welcome back to the free world.
Judge K hugged her again.
***
Bob Sugarman requested a few days off. The Chief Justice was only too willing to accommodate him. He had sufficiently embarrassed Sugarman by yanking him off the case and personally signing the order prepared by Ms. Clarke, releasing Judge Kolkolski, with prejudice.
Robert knew he had been setup. He wasn’t sure if it was by Gibson and Clarke or Judge Saltmeyer himself. Or both. To say he was in a foul mood would be a gross understatement.
It was close to 10:00 p.m. when the front door rang.
Who the hell is bothering me at this late hour?
Judge Sugarman opened the door and stared in disbelief.
“What the hell are you doing here? You son-of-a-bitch, you were the one who caused me all this grief to begin with. Get out of here. Now.”
Wally just smiled. He had been waiting for this day. He had pictured in his mind what he would say—and what he would do.
“You’re a sorry excuse for a judge, for a lawyer, for a man. You don’t have the courage of your own convictions. You’re afraid of your own shadow. Why I allowed myself to befriend you all these years is beyond me.”
“Get out of my doorway or I’ll call the police and have you thrown back in the rat hole you deserve to be in.”
Wally knew he was going nowhere; not a rat hole, not down to Florida, not anywhere. With no warning he pulled a gun he had recently purchased on the street and fired it five times. There was only one bullet left in the chamber. Bob Sugarman’s eyes were wide open. He could not believe he would be dead in a matter of seconds.
“911? This is Walter Kolkolski. I’m at the home of Judge Robert Sugarman. I just shot him four or five times, I think it was five times, in the heart. I killed the miserable prick. He deserved it.”
“OMG, we’ll send an ambulance out immediately.”
“Better make it two.”
The 911 operator then heard the explosion of the last bullet in the chamber being fired.
Walter Kolkolski died instantaneously from a single bullet to the brain, a free man.
***
Out of respect, the courthouse closed for the next forty-eight hours.
Chief Justice Steven Saltmeyer hid his feelings well.
Maybe that will send a message to Irv Weinstein, that meddling prick. Like I promised myself when I appointed Sugarman to the Kolkolski case, this is my courthouse and I’ll run it any damn way I please.
Saltmeyer then smiled quietly to himself.
***Sneak Peek***
GIBSON & CLARKE
The best criminal defense lawyers
money can buy.
RICK SANTINI
PROLOGUE
Marta was tired. Bone tired. Tired of constantly representing the People, the People of the Great State of New Jersey. Tired of being told by the politically ambitious district attorney what cases to try and which ones to settle quickly and quietly. She needed a break. No, she needed a complete change of scenery. The phone call came a few weeks after the murder/suicide of Judge Kolkolski, retired. She could not imagine why Billy Jo wanted to have dinner with her, especially at a high-priced steak house. The matter of Walter Kolkolski was over. There was nothing anyone could do but reminisce and dwell on all the mistakes made.
I have nothing to lose. I could use a good steak and a few vodka martinis and Billy Jo is paying. Why the hell not?
“May I order a drink for you?”
“Keitel 1 vodka martini, shaken only, please.”
So this is going to be a cat and mouse game. Two can play as well as one.
“How’s business?”
“Good. Too good. As a matter of fact, that’s why I asked you to meet me here.”
“I’m listening.”
“The publicity over the actual trial and the murder/suicide was overwhelming. My phone has not stopped ringing. I’m a one man operation and my main office is in Martinsburg, West Virginia. I’m now getting calls from all over greater Newark. Bottom line, I need a partner, a full partner. I need you. How does the new name Gibson and Clarke sound to you?”
Marta sat there in shock. It was the last thing she expected. Before she could answer, Billy Jo handed her a brand new high quality, cream colored business card. The fine raised lettering read:
GIBSON & CLARKE
Criminal Defense Lawyers
1-800-ME B FREE
“When did this idea hit you?”
“The day you put your career on the line for me by not opposing my motion for a directed verdict. I knew right there and then you would make the perfect partner. Tough, determined, smart, and still with a twinge of ethics. You have the right combination.
Not to mention a killer body and not afraid to use it when necessary.
“When do we start, you slick talking son-of-a-bitch?”
Chapter 1
Marta sat in her new office, less than three short blocks from the Criminal Courthouse. She was amazed how quick and smooth the transition had been.
One day she was sitting in her cubicle on the fifth floor of the Essex County District Attorney’s Office with a government issued metal desk, a ten-year-old file cabinet, a chair she bought herself from Staples, and two uncomfortable side chairs. She shared her secretary with at least a half dozen other ADAs and could never find an investigator when she most needed one. The next—actually five weeks later—she had her own private secretary, Miranda, who could not wait to give notice at her current job working in the chambers of Chief Judge Steven Saltmeyer.
The judge had no idea who her new boss would be. He would have thrown a shit fit.
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