The Advocate - 02 - The Advocate's Betrayal (10 page)

“You said they’ll set two other hearing dates. I know what a preliminary hearing is for the most part, but what is a readiness hearing?”

“The readiness conference is when we have a chance to speak to the prosecutor and negotiate your case. We can try to reach a deal that’s best for you, a plea bargain. The judge may or may not be part of this process.”

“But I didn’t do anything. Why should I plea bargain?”

“Don’t worry, we won’t, but they’ll set the hearing anyway.” The lines seemed to grow deeper on Betty’s forehead, and her eyes looked wet.

“Betty, keep your chin up. We’re going to get through this. I believe in you.” Sabre wanted to give Betty a hug, but was unable to because of the screen between them. She reached her hand up to the wire mesh and so did Betty, their fingers touching lightly. “I’ll be back real soon,” Sabre said. She saw tears rolling down Betty’s face just before she turned to go.

Sabre left the detention center satisfied with Betty’s explanations of both the knife and the death of her last husband. Betty was pretty distraught when she spoke with JP and could easily have made a mistake in time. And the knife would have her fingerprints on it if she handled it after the killer. The only thing Sabre really questioned was the fact that Betty didn’t have a single photograph of John. It was also strange that she hadn’t given JP her real last name.

Sabre called Bob to bounce it off him. He was a great sounding board. He could cut right to the chase. She needed him more than ever with this case. Sometimes it was difficult to see past her friendship with Betty.

“Hi, honey,” Bob said when he answered the phone.

Sabre explained what she had just obtained from Betty. “So does that sound plausible to you?”

“Mixing up the dates is very believable. She’s been pretty upset, and five years, six years, it’s an easy mistake. And what difference does it make even if she hooked up with John right away? This is the twenty-first century and the guy was dead. Who cares?”

“So, what about the knife?”

“Well, that’s more intriguing. It’s a great way to get someone’s fingerprints on the murder weapon, plant it in plain sight with an incentive for them to touch it. But you know what that means, don’t you?”

“Yeah, it would have to be someone they know. Someone who knew Betty’s habits and knew she would clean up before she’d go to bed.”

“Any idea who that might be?” Bob asked.

“Not a clue. Neither of them seemed to have any enemies, at least not here.”

“But it could be someone from his past. We don’t really know anything about him.”

“True. JP’s working on it. He wanted a photo of John, but Betty says they don’t exist. At least, she doesn’t have one.”

“You mean she has known this man for twenty-some years and she doesn’t have one photo of him?”

“That’s the story. But apparently Betty was never much of a photographer. I think her life was pretty rough sometimes in the past. She did say she could never afford to develop the pictures when she took them, so she quit taking any. She also said John didn’t like his picture taken. So maybe there aren’t any in her possession.”

“Maybe,” Bob said, but with little conviction.

“She’s innocent, Bob, I know she is.”

11

El Cajon Superior Court, built in the nineteen eighties, didn’t have the traditional look of the courthouses Sabre so admired. It was more modern in its architecture, not giving her the feeling of grandeur and magnificence the downtown courthouse did. Sabre approached the metal detector, and greeted the bailiffs. Though she practiced mainly in Juvenile Court at Meadowlark, she occasionally went to court in El Cajon since it had a juvenile division as well. As a result, she knew some of the bailiffs who worked there.

Sabre laid her briefcase on the belt of the metal detector and walked through the door frame.

“Good morning, Sabre,” said the tall bailiff with the thinning hair and wire rim glasses.

“Good morning, Jerry.”

“Are you in delinquency or dependency this morning?” he asked.

“Neither. I’m here for an adult felony arraignment on a PC one-eighty-seven.” She picked up her briefcase from the belt.

“A murder rap. You’re moving up in the world.”

“Or down, depending on how you look at it.”

“True.”

“Can you direct me?”

“Department Two on the first floor.”

“If you see Bob Clark, will you tell him I went up to felony arraignment? He’s supposed to meet me there.”

“No problem.”

Sabre exited the elevator and walked down the hallway to Department Two. She opened the door a few inches and looked inside.  When she didn’t see Bob in the crowd, she closed the door again. She took a seat outside of the courtroom and read the police report again. The only thing they’d do in court this morning is enter a plea and maybe argue for bail. She glanced through her notes for her bail argument. Sabre was not hopeful.

“Hi, Sobs,” Bob said as he walked up.

“Hi. I’m glad you’re here. I peeked in, but it’s pretty crowded in there, and the judge hasn’t taken the bench yet.”

“Good. You ready to face the storm?”

“Sure, this is the easy part.”

Sabre and Bob entered the noisy courtroom, walked past the gallery filled with defendants and their family members, and approached the bailiff. Sabre handed him two business cards, one of hers and one of Bob’s.

“Hi. I’m Sabre Brown and this is Robert Clark. We’re appearing on behalf of Betty Smith. I believe we’re ninth on the calendar.”

“Thanks,” he said. “You may have a seat right there for now.” He pointed to the front row of seats. “You’re welcome to come in here when it clears out a bit and there’s a little more sitting room.”

“Thanks,” Sabre responded. They took a seat where the bailiff had suggested.

“Do you know what that waist-high railing is called?” Bob asked quietly, although court was not in session yet.

“What railing?”

“The one right in front of you.”

“No, but I bet you’re going to tell me.”

“It’s called a ‘bar,’ and it’s a wooden barrier used to separate the two parts of the courtroom. Apart from the parties in a case and any witnesses, only the lawyers may literally pass the bar. Have you ever noticed that even the court personnel and jury members usually enter through separate doors? That’s the reason the term ‘the bar’ has come to refer to the legal profession as a whole.”

“Well, aren’t you just filled with useless information,” Sabre teased.

“Hey, attorneys should know this crap. It’s part of our….”

“Will the court please come to order. The Honorable Judge Lark presiding.” The bailiff spoke in a strong, loud voice. A hush came over the courtroom as the black-robed judge entered and took a seat behind the bench. He stood about six feet tall and possessed a round belly and receding hairline.  On the wall behind him was the great seal of the State of California; on either side of the seal hung a California state flag and a United States flag. Sabre was always impressed with the seal. It looked so important up there. She noticed it every time she entered a courtroom.

Bob and Sabre sat there while the court called three cases. A door to the left opened, and two bailiffs walked in with six female prisoners chained together. They all took a seat on a bench behind a glass wall. The bailiffs stood on either end of them. Betty was the third from the end. Sabre’s heart skipped a beat and her chest constricted. She told herself to breathe, knowing she needed to be strong for Betty. She watched Betty closely until she looked back at her. Sabre nodded her head so Betty would know she was there for her. It seemed to help. Betty’s droopy eyes and turned-down mouth seemed to level off a little when she saw Sabre. Sabre had trouble making sense of all this—how could she expect it of Betty? Betty shouldn’t be there. It was bad enough her husband was dead, but she couldn’t even imagine how she must feel being charged with his murder.

The court called a drunk driving case. The judge said, “How do you plead?”

“Not guilty, Your Honor,” the defendant responded.

His attorney then spoke up. “Your Honor, my client is legally blind. He was not drunk.”

“And that’s better…how?” the judge asked. “Give him a trial date,” he said to his clerk.

Four more cases were called before they heard the name “Smith.”

Sabre stood up, and took her place at the podium. “Sabre Orin Brown appearing on behalf of Betty Smith and for the record, Your Honor, Betty’s legal name is Betty Taylor.”

“Thank you, we’ll correct the file.”

The bailiff brought Betty to the podium still in handcuffs. The judge informed her of her constitutional rights and asked her if she understood.

“Yes, Your Honor,” Betty said.

“You’re charged with murder in the first degree. How do you plead?” the judge asked.

“Not guilty.”

“Before we set a preliminary hearing date and readiness conference, what is the District Attorney’s position on bail?” he asked, turning to the short, thin prosecutor. Sabre had never had a case against him, but knew him by reputation. He was known to be hard on witnesses, even worse on defendants when they testified, but honest and a real seeker of the truth.

“We’re asking no bail be set, Your Honor. The defendant doesn’t have any real ties to the community. She does not own property here, she has no employment here, no relatives here, and the seriousness of the crime doesn’t warrant release. However, should the court decide to grant bail, we would request a minimum of $500,000.”

“Counselor Brown, argument?”

“We disagree, Your Honor. Although my client doesn’t own real property here, she does have her mobile home which has been in the same location for four years. She has her own small business here, and there is no reason to believe she’s a flight risk. My client does not have relatives here, but she does have a very close circle of friends in which I’m proud to be included. She has no prior criminal record. She has never failed to appear in court. In fact, she has never had a prior arrest. She’s no threat to the community. She maintains her innocence, but understanding the court must consider otherwise for purposes of bail, then this would appear to be a crime of passion, and there is no reason to believe any other member of the community would be at risk.

“My client has just lost her husband and her only means of support is a small business, selling watches at swap-meets which she must now run by herself. She doesn’t have property to put up as collateral, and as we argued before, she’s no risk to the community. Therefore, we ask the court to release Ms. Taylor on her own recognizance.”

“It looks like we’re somewhere between nothing and a half million dollars. At this juncture, I don’t intend to do either,” the judge said. “I want to know a little more about this woman and about the evidence the prosecutor has against her, so I’ll entertain arguments again at the preliminary hearing. The prisoner is remanded to custody.”

“Thank you, Your Honor,” Sabre said. She looked at Betty whose face was bathed in disappointment. “I’m sorry, Betty. I’ll come see you tomorrow. Hang in there.”

Sabre watched as the bailiff took Betty back to her cage. Her heart ached for her. She had to find a way to get her released. She turned to Bob with tears welling up. He squeezed her hand and murmured, “Keep it together, kid.” He let go before they walked out of the courtroom.

“Damn, I hate seeing her like this. She looks like she’s aged ten years. How long can she last in there?”

“She’s tough. You said yourself you thought she’s lived a pretty rough life. I wonder what she was like when she was young.”

“She’s never said much of anything about her past, other than she was once a hair stylist. That’s why she’s always so fussy about her hair and makeup. It’s just little innuendos that make me think she has been through a lot. It’s not like she ever complained or anything. I get the impression she spent a lot of time just trying to make a living. I know she’ll survive jail time, but if she’s convicted she’ll go to prison. I don’t think she could take that.”

“We just have to see that it doesn’t happen. But you knew going in that was a possibility.”

“I know. It just upsets me. She’s like an aunt to me. Not just an aunt…a favorite aunt. When I was having all that trouble last year, she baked me persimmon cookies. She invited me over for dinner and to play cards. She loves to play cards. So did John. Canasta was his favorite, but when we had four people we would play whist. You have to be from the Midwest to know that game….” Sabre stopped suddenly, realizing she had been rambling. “I’m sorry. I have to get going.”

Bob gave her a hug before she got in her car to leave.

All the way back to her office, Sabre thought about Betty locked up at Las Colinas. She had to find who really did this. Hoping JP had made some progress, she dialed the phone.

“Hey, kid,” he said, the way he always did when she called. “How you doing?”

 “Fine. I’m just leaving the El Cajon Courthouse,” Sabre said. “We had Betty’s arraignment this morning.”

“How’d that go?”

“I was really hoping to get her released on bail, but it didn’t happen.”

“I’m sorry, kid.”

“Me too. How’s your investigation going? Anything new?”

“I can’t find any enemies of John, at least nothing recent. Everyone seemed to like him. He didn’t have any real vices. I haven’t been able to find anyone who had any reason to kill him. And either he left the door open that night when he went to bed, which Betty said was highly unlikely, or he knew the person and let him or her in.”

“Betty said there was a key hidden. Do you know if it’s still there?”

“Yeah, she told me, and I checked it out. It was still under the rock, but someone could have used it and put it back. It had been used recently, so that’s a possibility.”

“How do you know?”

“Well, not necessarily used, but I could tell it had been moved. The earth around it was disturbed, but I haven’t had the chance to ask Betty how long it’s been under there. She may not even know if John had used it recently.” JP paused a moment before he continued.