Guilty as Sin Read online

  ST. JAMES: I don’t know much about A-1 felony weight. I’m a federal agent, and we don’t deal with New York law much. Maybe the NYPD worries about those things. I don’t know.

  JAYWALKER: I see. Well, whose idea was it that you order an eighth of a kilo?

  ST. JAMES: Lieutenant Pascarella’s.

  JAYWALKER: And who does he work for again? ST. JAMES: The NYPD.

  JAYWALKER: So you just did what you were told to do?

  ST. JAMES: Yes and no.

  JAYWALKER: What does that mean?

  It was the kind of question that gave the witness a chance to bury you, and hence the kind they told cross-examiners never to ask. Which didn’t stop Jaywalker.

  ST. JAMES: I always try to buy as much as I can.

  JAYWALKER: Because it makes it worse for the guy who’s selling to you?

  ST. JAMES: No.

  JAYWALKER: Because it makes you look better?

  ST. JAMES: No, not at all.

  JAYWALKER: Why, then?

  ST. JAMES: Because it gets more narcotics off the streets and out of the hands of kids.

  Not bad, thought Jaywalker. But even as he smiled at the witness for scoring a jab, he was ready with a counterpunch.

  JAYWALKER: So you say your idea is to buy as much as possible?

  ST. JAMES: Yes.

  JAYWALKER: At the taxpayers’ expense?

  ST. JAMES: [No response]

  JAYWALKER: Until the world’s supply is exhausted or we’re all broke? Whichever happens first?

  ST. JAMES: When we make seizures of drugs, we often recover a lot of the money we’ve spent. Many times we even come out ahead.

  JAYWALKER: I see. How much money was recovered in this case?

  ST. JAMES: If I’m not mistaken, I believe your client had five hundred dollars on him when he was arrested.

  JAYWALKER: Out of the five thousand you’d given him. And that’s not counting the sixteen hundred you’d given him previously.

  ST. JAMES: [No response]

  JAYWALKER: Do you consider that a good return on the government’s investment?

  ST. JAMES: [No response]

  JAYWALKER: And in terms of seizing drugs, how much was seized in this case, if you know? Not counting what Mr. Barnett had on him when he was arrested.

  ST. JAMES: Not counting that? None.

  JAYWALKER: Am I confused, or isn’t the goal of an undercover operation to buy a little in order to seize a lot?

  ST. JAMES: Sure, that’s the goal. In the real world, it doesn’t always work out that way.

  JAYWALKER: I see. And there’s another goal to buying drugs undercover, isn’t there?

  ST. JAMES: I’m not sure I follow you.

  JAYWALKER: Have you ever heard the expression moving up the ladder?

  ST. JAMES: If it’s the same as moving up the food chain, yes.

  JAYWALKER: Forgive me for dating myself. What does moving up the food chain mean?

  ST. JAMES: It means trying to make a case not just against the subject you’re buying from but against his connection, as well.

  JAYWALKER: And his connection’s connection—

  ST. JAMES: Yes.

  JAYWALKER: —on up the line?

  ST. JAMES: Yes.

  JAYWALKER: Hence the terms up the food chain or up the ladder?

  ST. JAMES: Right.

  JAYWALKER: And did any of that happen in this case?

  ST. JAMES: No, it didn’t.

  JAYWALKER: One month, three government agencies, fourteen officers, six thousand six hundred dollars. And you didn’t move up a single rung of the ladder. Or, as you might say, a single link in the food chain. Not one, right?

  ST. JAMES: Happens.

  JAYWALKER: Especially if you’re not trying.

  Miki Shaughnessey jumped up, asking that the comment be stricken, a request that Shirley Levine quickly granted. And although Jaywalker knew the judge never really got angry with him—they liked each other too much for that—sometimes she did a pretty good imitation, and this was one of those times. “Ask questions,” she snapped at him, right in front of the jurors. “Don’t make statements.”

  He could have simply said “Sorry” and moved his questioning on to some other subject. But with his “especially if you’re not trying” comment now stricken from the record, the agent’s rather glib “Happens” would become the last word spoken on the matter, and the last to show up in the printed transcript. So Jaywalker decided to rephrase what he’d said, only in question form.

  JAYWALKER: Would you agree, Agent St. James, that as a general rule, working your way higher up in the distribution chain happens only when you’re making a serious effort to make it happen?

  SHAUGHNESSEY: Objection.

  THE COURT: Overruled. The witness may answer.

  ST. JAMES: The truth is, every once in a while you try as hard as you can, but in spite of everything you do, you just can’t make a case against a seller’s connection. At least not without jeopardizing your safety, the safety of your fellow officers, or both.

  Jaywalker smiled wryly. This guy was good, he had to admit.

  JAYWALKER: Was there even the remotest suggestion of violence or weapons in this particular case, at any point?

  ST. JAMES: Counselor, in my line of business, violence and weapons are everyday things.

  This guy was better than good. He was taking Jaywalker’s best shots and not only parrying them, but counterpunching effectively.

  JAYWALKER: Which is why I asked you about this particular case. Any violence in this one?

  ST. JAMES: No.

  JAYWALKER: Any guns—used, threatened to be used, displayed, or even hinted at?

  ST. JAMES: No.

  JAYWALKER: Still, this turned out to be one of those every once in a while cases where in spite of everything you tried, you never could make it even one step up the ladder?

  ST. JAMES: That’s correct, Counselor.

  JAYWALKER: By the way, do you see now why we call it a ladder? You have to actually do some work in order to get yourself up to the next level.

  This time he did apologize, though it didn’t stop Judge Levine from striking the comment, instructing the jury to disregard it, and wagging a this-is-your-last-warning finger in Jaywalker’s direction. But he’d made the comment because he was done and knew he couldn’t get into any more trouble, at least for the moment. Turning from the witness, he said “No more questions,” and sat down.

  By that time it was quarter of five, and rather than begin with another witness, the judge broke for the day. Only when the last juror had filed out of the courtroom and the court officers had led Alonzo Barnett back into the pens did she turn her attention to the lawyers.

  “Mr. Jaywalker—” she began.

  Here it comes, he thought. Apparently the final warning had been the one before the finger-wagging. So even Shirley Levine had finally had enough of his antics and was about to hold him in contempt, maybe even give him a night on Rikers Island to think things over.

  “—why are we trying this case?”

  Which caught Jaywalker so off guard that he laughed out loud. But as relieved as he was at avoiding jail time, he knew the judge hadn’t asked her question out of idle curiosity. The truth was, there’d been a time when he’d thought about waiving a jury and opting for a bench trial. Judging from Levine’s question, he now knew what a mistake that would have been. But it was even worse than that. What Shirley Levine was implying—hell, she wasn’t implying it, she was coming right out and saying it—was that two witnesses into the case, it was already clear that there was no theory under which a rational jury could possibly acquit his client.

  A lot of lawyers would have answered her by deflecting the blame onto the defendant. “What can I tell you?” they would have said with a helpless shrug of the shoulders. “My client’s an absolute psycho who refuses to take a plea.” But Jaywalker was decidedly old-school when it came to placing blame. He could still remember hearing his father tell him
that a good carpenter never complains about his tools. Jaywalker had always figured that the same advice has to apply to pretty much every trade, including the one he’d ended up practicing. A good lawyer doesn’t complain about his client. You take what you’re given, and you do the best you possibly can with it. And if you lose, you lose. Not just that guy sitting next to you.

  “Why are you tilting at windmills here?” the judge was asking him now. “Fighting against impossible odds?” Here he’d thought her earlier question had been nothing but a rhetorical one, a not-so-subtle suggestion that he sit down with Mr. Barnett and explain the odds to him. No, it seemed she really expected an answer from him as to why there hadn’t been a guilty plea.

  “Because…” he began. But one word into his response, he realized he had absolutely no follow-up. There was no reason, when it came right down to it, except that Alonzo Barnett wanted a trial. He’d said that to his first lawyer, his second lawyer and his third. Their reactions had been simple. They’d walked away from him as quickly as they could.

  Jaywalker didn’t walk away from his clients. Not even when they continued to make the same sort of self-destructive choices that had gotten them into trouble in the first place. But with Barnett, it was more than that. Here was a guy who’d defied the odds and turned everything around. It might have taken him fifty years, but look at what he’d done. Stopped not only using drugs but selling them, as well. Cut out drinking. Never missed an appointment with his parole officer. Found himself a decent job and an apartment to call his own. And the time he’d had left over after those endeavors? Had he spent it hanging out with a bunch of junkies and ex-cons? No, he’d devoted it to the two loves of his life, his daughters. In a word, here was a man who’d done nothing less than completely redeem himself. And Jaywalker, who’d be the first to tell you that he had no place in his heart for organized religion and no room in his thinking for the existence of a higher power, was nevertheless a believer in redemption.

  A huge believer.

  Then something had happened. Barnett’s overblown, misguided sense of loyalty had betrayed him into believing he owed someone a favor, a favor that carried with it huge personal risk for him. That favor now threatened to undo everything he’d accomplished and send him back to prison for the rest of his life. So what was Jaywalker supposed to do? Twist the poor man’s arm to the breaking point until he hollered uncle and agreed to a slightly shorter sentence before kissing his daughters goodbye for the last time? No, he couldn’t do that. Not if Barnett wanted to fight. What Jaywalker could do—in fact, the only thing he could do under the circumstances—was go to war with him and fight like an absolute madman until the last drop of fight was drained out of him.

  “Because…” He struggled to answer the judge again. “Because I’m a lunatic, okay? Tilting at windmills? That’s what I do for a living. Fighting against impossible odds? That happens to be my job description.”

  Any other judge would have turned sarcastic on him, agreeing with the lunatic part and ridiculing the rest of his little speech. Not Shirley Levine. Shaking her head sadly from side to side, she said, “God bless you, Mr. Jaywalker.” She said it in a voice so soft that the words had to have been meant for only him to hear. And in the often strange and lonely world that Jaywalker inhabited, those words fell on his ears like pure music.

  10

  The encyclopedia salesman

  Thursday’s witnesses were members of the backup team, the task force officers who’d conducted surveillance during the buys and arrested Alonzo Barnett. First up was a veteran DEA agent by the name of Angel Cruz. Cruz was a short, medium-complexioned Hispanic. Today, he’d be a Latino. In his younger days he’d done his share of undercover work, and Jaywalker had cross-examined him some years back in a federal trial down in Foley Square. That one had turned out well for Cruz and the government. For Jaywalker and his client, not so well.

  Miki Shaughnessey wasted little time with preliminaries. Jaywalker had half expected her to begin with the time period prior to Agent St. James’s entry into the case, back when the surveillance team watching the defendant had had no luck in observing anything resembling a narcotics transaction. But apparently Shaughnessey had decided to leave that time period to Jaywalker, preferring instead to get right to the sales themselves. And it was a smart decision on her part, Jaywalker had to admit. By zeroing in on the charges in the indictment, Shaughnessey would come off as focused and relevant in the eyes of the jury. Jaywalker, if he chose to backtrack into the period before the first sale took place—as he’d done already to some extent with St. James—would run the risk of looking as though he was trying to divert the jurors’ attention and, worse yet, waste their time.

  As a result, Agent Cruz’s direct testimony took less than an hour. He described a team meeting conducted prior to the first buy, at which Agent St. James had been supplied with prerecorded bills. Then, keeping back a discreet distance, two teams of officers in unmarked cars had followed St. James and his Cadillac. At 125th Street they’d seen him meet a short, stocky, black man known at that time only as John Doe “Stump.” Stump had joined St. James in the Cadillac, and together they’d driven to 562 St. Nicholas Avenue, known from earlier surveillance to be the building in which Alonzo Barnett, also known as John Doe “Gramps,” lived. Both men had gotten out of the car then, although in cop-speak that came out as “At that particular location and point in time, I did surreptitiously observe Agent St. James and John Doe ‘Stump’ proceed to exit from the official government vehicle in which they had previously been present.”

  SHAUGHNESSEY: What, if anything, did you see?

  CRUZ: I observed Stump walk over to another black male who was sitting on the stoop and engage him in conversation.

  SHAUGHNESSEY: Do you know that man’s name?

  CRUZ: Yes. I’ve since learned his name is Alonzo Barnett.

  SHAUGHNESSEY: Do you think you would recognize that man if you were to see him today?

  CRUZ: Yes. That’s him sitting right over there.

  Jaywalker conceded that sitting right over there was the defendant. Shaughnessey asked her witness what had happened next.

  CRUZ: After a minute or so, Stump motioned Agent St. James over and appeared to introduce him to Mr. Barnett. Then Stump walked away, out of my sight. After speaking together for a minute or so, Agent St. James and Mr. Barnett walked to the Cadillac and got in, Agent St. James behind the wheel and Mr. Barnett in the front passenger seat.

  SHAUGHNESSEY: What happened next?

  CRUZ: They started moving, and I followed them, a few cars back.

  The Cadillac had continued to the corner of 127th Street and Broadway. There Barnett had gotten out and walked around the corner and out of sight, while Agent St. James had remained behind the wheel.

  SHAUGHNESSEY: What did you do?

  CRUZ: I remained in my vehicle and continued to watch the Cadillac.

  SHAUGHNESSEY: Why did you do that?

  Jaywalker knew the answer by heart from his DEA days, could have recited it in his sleep if called upon to do so.

  CRUZ: Because the safety of the undercover agent is always my paramount concern.

  Well, that and the money, Jaywalker knew. Although that particular consideration didn’t seem to get mentioned quite as often in court. In any event, Agent Cruz explained that another officer had gotten out of the vehicle and followed Barnett on foot.

  About twenty minutes later, Barnett reappeared and got back into the Cadillac. Five minutes passed, and then Barnett got out again and, as before, walked around the corner, while Agent St. James stayed behind the wheel.

  Another twenty minutes went by. Funny how that happened, noted Jaywalker. Again Barnett appeared, walked to the Cadillac and got back in. Agent St. James pulled away from the curb and drove back to 562 St. Nicholas Avenue. There he dropped Barnett off and drove away.

  The members of the team met up at the same location as before. There Agent St. James produced a small glass vial. A fiel
d test for the presence of opiates proved positive, indicating that the white powder inside it was heroin. Agent Cruz took custody of the evidence and later delivered it to the United States Chemist for a more sophisticated analysis.

  The second and third buys pretty much followed the same script, according to Agent Cruz’s observations and testimony. Again, Agent St. James had waited in his Cadillac while Alonzo Barnett had gotten out and walked around the corner. It wasn’t until the third and final transaction that Agent Cruz and five other members of the backup team had intercepted Barnett and arrested him as he was walking back to the Cadillac.

  SHAUGHNESSEY: Was a search conducted of Mr. Barnett at that point?

  CRUZ: Yes, it was.

  SHAUGHNESSEY: By whom?

  CRUZ: By me, in the presence of other members of the team.

  SHAUGHNESSEY: What, if anything, was recovered?

  CRUZ: From Mr. Barnett’s right jacket pocket I recovered a paper bag, inside of which was a double glassine bag containing white powder. And from his right pants pocket I recovered five hundred dollars.

  The white powder again field-tested positive for opiates and was delivered to the chemist. The serial numbers of the bills were compared to a photocopy of those supplied earlier that day to Agent St. James. Each of the serial numbers matched.

  At that point Miki Shaughnessey produced four sealed evidence envelopes. One by one, she handed them to the witness and had him identify them from serial numbers and initials on the outside. Then she handed him scissors so he could cut the seals and open the envelopes. The first contained the small glass vial from buy number one; the second, the glassine envelope from buy number two; the third, the paper bag and double glassine envelope recovered from the defendant’s right jacket pocket during buy number three; and the fourth, the five hundred dollars recovered from Barnett’s right pants pocket.

  Just as time intervals were always twenty minutes, so were pockets all right-side ones. And had there been testimony about which hand Barnett had used to give Agent St. James a package and which hand St. James had received it with, those would have both been right hands, too. Amazing how that happened.