From There to Here
Chapter 4: Walk Through the Old Routines
"Marcy Wrightman is coming in at 9:30," Jamie told Jack, "And here's a copy of the research I started on the Sullivan case."
Jack took the file Jamie handed him, "Anything else?"
"No, that's it." She said, smiling as brightly as Monday morning allowed, "How was your weekend?"
What a question, Jack thought, but he knew she didn't expect much of an answer.
"Not bad," He said, "Yours?"
"I took my daughter to the zoo on Saturday. It was such a nice day, I thought I'd take advantage of the warm weather while we still have it." Jamie replied.
"How old is she?" Jack asked.
"Three."
"They're fun at that age." Jack agreed.
"Do you have any children?" Jamie asked, surprised. The tone in his voice indicated he did, but he hadn't mentioned it up until this moment.
"I have a daughter. She's nineteen." Jack said.
"Oh. So at least you survived the teenage years," Jamie joked, and Jack half-smiled.
"It was easy," He said, "She lives with her mother in San Diego."
"Oh." Jamie repeated, not sure how to reply to that. Jack pulled a file from the stack on his desk and began working, a sure indication the conversation was over, and Jamie headed for the door. As she was about to leave, Jack looked up.
"Let me know as soon as they get here," He said. Jamie nodded.
"I'm not going to bore you with a lot of talk about soul-searching and heartbreak. Ana spent a week in prison, it was enough."
"We're listening, Ms. Wrightman," Jack said.
"Salva told her where he hid the gun he used. She talks, she walks."
Are you kidding, Jamie thought, "Maybe you didn't read the case file. Mrs. Rankin wasn't shot."
Marcy Wrightman looked at Jamie.
"He struck her with a butt. All the evidence you need is on the gun. But first, all the charges against Ana disappear."
"After she testifies in court." Jack responded.
"No way. I'm not talking against Fernando to his face. I'll tell you where the gun is, but that's it." Ana Galvez spoke up, and Jamie looked over at Jack. I don't feel right about this, she thought, trying to convey that to Jack with her eyes.
"Okay, deal." Jack said, "Provided the gun conclusively links Salva to the murder."
Jamie took down the information Ana gave them, and Jack rose to show Marcy and Ana out. As he shut the door behind them, Jamie turned to look at him.
"That's it?" She asked.
"That's all we were after, wasn't it?" Jack sat back down at his desk.
"I'll get this over to Briscoe and Curtis." Jamie gathered her paperwork and gave Jack a sideways glance as she walked out of the office.
So many deals, Jack thought, some days I feel like a merchant at an Arabian bazaar. I'll give a little if you give a little, and let's hope the whole system doesn't collapse when we give too much.
Adam was a big fan of making deals. What was it Claire had said?
"My mistake was following your lead, Mr. Schiff. I cut a deal the way you like them, quick, cheap and out the door."
She had punctuated that statement by walking out and slamming the office door behind her, Jack remembered – could it have been only a few months ago? Barely even that long. His sense of time was still warped, the confusion of days, nights, weeks, months – he had once been on top of everything, now even remembering it was Monday was difficult.
Every day, he thought suddenly, is going to be just like this one. Come to work, pay attention to suspects and evidence and case law and statutes, pretend that there's something left in this. Pretend that you actually care what happens.
But every day, for the rest of your life, you'll know. She will never walk in that door again. You will never, ever have her back.
So what does it matter anymore what day it is?
Jamie had already talked to the detectives at the twenty-seventh precinct and was on her way back to her desk when Monica handed her an envelope, wrapped in the familiar blue paper of a court notice.
"What is it?" She asked, "And where's Jack?"
"In Mr. Schiff's office." Monica replied, turning back to her computer screen.
"It's a motion to suppress the gun found in William Dunbar's apartment." Jamie read out loud, dismayed. Monica just nodded without even looking up from her typing. Jamie realized the assistant had no idea what she was talking about, and she hurried over to Adam's office to find Jack.
"Sisters killing sisters. Haven't seen that for a week or two." Adam commented as he looked over the case file.
"Good, there'll be a place for this one at Bedford Hills." Jack replied.
"No witnesses, no statement."
"We can show motive, access to the murder weapon, and her fingerprint is consistent with a partial on the gun."
Jamie walked in at this point, carrying the motion in one hand.
"Her lawyer is cranking up his billable hours," She said, "A motion to suppress the gun, and the photograph of her with her sister's husband."
"Meaning her motive, access to the murder weapon and fingerprints." Adam noted sourly.
"We have all the facts. I think we'll convince Judge Marks."
"Nathan Marks?" Jack asked.
"Luck of the draw," Jamie shrugged.
"Make sure your air bags are working." Adam said.
"The detectives and I are going over to that building tomorrow morning," Jamie explained to Jack as they left Adam's office, "So I may be a little late."
"That's all right," Jack sighed, "When you come back you can start briefing our response to the motion in the Sullivan case. We have the meeting with Judge Marks on Wednesday afternoon."
"He doesn't waste any time." Jamie remarked. Jack nodded.
"If he makes a wrong turn with that hook," Lennie Briscoe said, "Somebody sitting on the john is in for a big surprise."
"I can think of nicer ways of getting goosed in the morning." Jamie smiled, and as she looked up at the officer fishing the wire down the plumbing vent pipe, Lennie and Rey exchanged an amused look. See, now, this DA had a sense of humor.
"Got it!" The officer pulled the snake from the pipe and hauled out the gun Ana Galvez had insisted would be there. Rey took it from him and examined the end of the gun.
"Rib panel's cracked," He pointed out, showing it to Lennie and Jamie, "That could be hair."
"Let's get it to the lab," Jamie said, nodding at Lennie and Rey.
"Do you need a ride, counselor?" Lennie asked Jamie as they were preparing to leave.
"Actually, sure. That would be great, thank you." She replied, smiling at the detective. Lennie turned to Rey.
"I wanted to go over and talk to the DA," He said, "So I'll give Ms. Ross here a ride," Rey nodded in agreement.
"No problem. See you back at the house, then."
"You can call me Jamie." Jamie told Lennie as he walked her over to the car.
"I didn't know we were that close." Lennie quipped, and Jamie smiled again.
"You said you wanted to see the DA – anything I can help you with?"
"No, I wanted to talk to Jack, actually."
"Have you two known each other long?" Jamie asked as Lennie opened the door for her.
"A while." He replied. Jamie nodded.
"So you won't mind if I ask you a question."
"Shoot." Lennie said, starting the car and looking carefully over his shoulder for oncoming traffic.
"Has he always been like this?"
"Always been like what?" Lennie asked.
"I don't know…" Jamie searched for an answer, "I can't quite describe it. But you would think a man with a reputation like his would be more…"
"More what?" Lennie asked again, and Jamie thought she heard a hint of impatience in his voice.
"He just doesn't seem to have much enthusiasm, that's all." Jamie said, although she knew that sounded silly the minute the words reached her ears. This was a mistake, she thought. But Lennie only nodded his head.
"Jack, he's… he's going through a rough time. You'll see. Wait until he gets his teeth in this Salva kid. You'll see a whole different side of him."
Jamie understood from his tone that he wasn't going to give her any more information, but that was enough for now.
Jack was in his office when Lennie and Jamie arrived, lying on the couch reading the newspaper, taking a short break from the case files still spread out across his desk.
"Jack. She was right, we found the gun." Jamie said as she opened the door after being told to come in.
"That's good news. Hello, Lennie." Jack sat up and slid his shoes back on.
"Hello, Counselor." Lennie said cheerfully.
"I better get started on that brief for Judge Marks," Jamie backed towards the door, "I'll let you know when I get the evidence report."
The door closed behind her and Lennie looked over at Jack.
"Are you all right?" He asked.
"Nothing like getting right to the point, huh, Lennie?" Jack walked back over to his desk and sat down.
"Well, you know…"
"I'm fine. Thank you for the ride the other night."
"I just thought I would check." Lennie said, trying hard to keep his voice light.
"Thank you."
"You know, if you ever need to talk…" Lennie began, but stopped when Jack looked up at him.
"I'll let you know." Jack said, attempting a smile.
"Would you look at the time," Lennie said, checking his watch, "Gotta make sure Rey got the gun over to the lab. I'll give Jamie a call the minute we get that report."
"I appreciate that, thank you."
"No problem." Lennie said, shutting the door behind him. Jack watched him go, his thoughts flashing back uncomfortably to Friday night. What was it he had said, exactly? It was all a little blurry.
Jack turned back to his work, trying again to shake the exhaustion from his mind.
"It's Rankin's hair and blood and Salva's prints." Jamie nearly ran back to the office that afternoon after collecting the evidence report from the police.
"Tell Scarletti's clerk we're ready for trial," Jack said, and Jamie reached for the phone on her desk while Monica pulled an envelope from Jack's mailbox and handed it to him.
"From Mercer." He called to Jamie as he read it, "About the gun."
Jamie hung up the phone, waiting.
"He's moving to suppress on a claim of privilege."
He handed the motion to Jamie, who glanced at it and slapped the paper against her hip in dismay.
"I don't believe it."
"You won't believe the date on the court hearing, either." Jack pointed it out on the form.
"Tomorrow morning! But we have the meeting with Marks in the afternoon."
"Another long night," Jack sighed, "Get together what you can find on attorney-client privilege."
"The people's knowledge of the whereabouts of the gun came as a result of a privileged communication between my client and myself." Abe Mercer began his argument in the courtroom the next morning.
"Our information came from his fiancée." Jack countered.
"Mr. Salva and his fiancée, Ms. Galvez, were conferring with me when Mr. Salva disclosed where he had hidden the gun."
"People v. Isario. When a client communicates with his attorney in the presence of a third party, it's assumed he's waived privilege."
"Yes, it is," Abe Mercer retorted, "But at the time I was both Mr. Salva and Ms. Galvez's attorney. The communication was made for the purpose of mounting a common defense. It's privileged."
"Your honor, for all we know Mr. Salva told his fiancée about the gun over dinner."
"I direct your attention, your honor, to the supporting affidavits from Mr. Salva and Ms. Galvez attesting to the time and place that the communications occurred."
"Your honor, these affidavits can't be taken at face value. They're self-serving, and in one case they may have been coerced."
Mercer turned angrily towards Jack, a vein popping out in his wrinkled forehead.
"An outrageous accusation." He sputtered.
"Calm down, Mr. Mercer," Judge Scarletti interrupted, "I'm granting your motion. The gun's out."
"I can't believe that… that…"
"Calm down," Jack echoed Judge Scarletti as the two of them hurried through the courthouse hallways, "Think plain sight and Joanne Sullivan. We're already late."
"How in the world did he manage that?" Jamie came close to yelling, "I can't believe…"
"Jamie," Jack said, "Focus. Let's not lose another set of evidence today."
"Right." Jamie took a deep breath as Jack opened the door to Judge Marks' chambers. As they walked in, Judge Marks was on the phone.
"I don't care what some ADA agreed upon. Next time you see me, look at what's on my shoulders. It's a head, not a handle. I don't rubber stamp." He hung up and looked at Jack and Jamie as they sat down, "You're late."
"I'm sorry, a hearing was delayed over in..." Jack began, but Marks interrupted him.
"Never mind. Miss Ross. I believe I last had the pleasure was when I was sentencing some liar represented by your ex-husband."
"I've been meaning to thank you." Jamie responded.
"Lovely blouse. Rare to see single-ply silk with that texture. Must feel very nice. Italian weave?"
He was concerned about the type of blouse she was wearing? All right, Jamie thought, I can go with the flow where necessary, "Chinese."
"Ah. They're improving." Judge Marks smiled.
"Your honor." Mr. Gillum spoke up, a hint of impatience creeping into his voice.
"Yes, Mr. Gillum?"
"If you're ready to proceed."
"Of course." Judge Marks folded his hands on the desk in front of him and listened.
"The police seized the evidence in question when the entered William Dunbar's apartment with an out-of-state arrest warrant." Gillum began.
"That had been properly lodged with the clerk of this court," Jack interrupted.
"At most, they had the right to ascertain whether or not William Dunbar was present, they had no right to search beyond that."
"One of the detectives opened a closet door. He saw the gun." Jack said.
"On a shelf two feet over his head." Gillum noted.
"The issue here is the plain view exception?" Judge Marks asked.
"It is, your honor." Jack confirmed.
"So I can get a lot of diagrams, with room layouts and sightlines. What was where, who was standing on top of what."
"I can have them by tomorrow." Gillum said.
"And then he'll come up with a different diagram, and we'll all sit around with rulers and protractors. I've got a better idea. Let's go to the apartment."
The lawyers looked at each other, not expecting this at all.
"All of us?" Gillum asked.
"Yes. We'll have a picnic. Mr. McCoy, bring your cops."
Jack and Jamie exchanged a look.
"I guess I'll call Briscoe and Curtis." Jamie whispered to Jack.
Within two hours they were all gathered in William Dunbar's apartment. Rey was showing Judge Marks exactly where he had been standing.
"It was there." Rey indicated a place on the shelf.
"Like that, just dangling on the edge like that?" Gillum challenged.
"Well, enough so I could see it. Maybe..." He shoved the gun back into the shelf, "Maybe there."
"Maybe." Judge Marks repeated.
"Or maybe there, or maybe there." Rey moved the gun a few inches in each direction, impatience creeping into his voice. Judge Marks, unimpressed, turned to Lennie.
"Where were you, Detective Briscoe?"
"Me? I was here."
"Maybe here?" The Judge asked.
"Definitely here." Lennie said firmly.
"Did you see the gun?"
"I wasn't looking at the closet." Lennie replied.
"I'll take that as a no." He turned his attention back to Rey, "Detective Curtis, how tall are you?"
"Six two."
"Hmm. "Judge Marks stood back and looked up at the shelf, "I don't see the gun."
"He must have seen it, your honor; why else did he reach for it?" Jack spoke up.
"And the photos?"
"When I reached for the gun, I felt them." Rey said.
"Several courts have adopted a plain touch exception to the warrant requirement." Jamie stepped forward, but Judge Marks shook his head.
"Nice try, Miss Ross. Not this one. The search was illegal."
"That only disallows use of the evidence against William Dunbar. We can still be used against Ms. Sullivan. She had no expectation of privacy here." Jack argued.
"You're the one who alleges my client was having an affair with the occupant of this apartment. You're the one who with a witness who claims she left here at eight o'clock one morning." Gillum said.
"Several days before the search. She has no standing unless she spent the night immediately before the search here. People v. Ortiz."
"How about that, Mr. Gillum? Client want to make a naughty confession?"
"No, she won't incriminate herself by strengthening the alleged motive for this crime." Gillum said, folding his arms.
"Could have argued common sense and experience," The Judge said. He turned and looked at Jamie, "Miss Ross. When you leave a man's apartment at eight o'clock in the morning, did you just drop in for coffee and a sweet roll?"
Jamie paused before answering, wondering exactly how to handle that question, "Am I a defense witness, judge?"
Jack shook his head, disgusted by the Judge's attitude. Claire, he thought, never would have let anyone even…
Don't think about her, not right now. This is not the place.
"You're an officer of the court, aiding in our search for the truth. You sample a man's hospitality once, are you likely to return to sample it again soon?"
All right, Jack thought, that was too much, "Your honor, this is not appropriate."
"If I left at eight a.m., I wasn't too impressed. I don't think I'd be rushing back." Jamie said, looking Judge Marks in the eye.
"Can't argue with that," The Judge smiled, "Defense motion denied. Evidence against Miss Sullivan is admitted."
Jack followed Jamie out of the apartment, still shaking his head over the Judge's innuendos.
"I thought he was going to ask your favorite sexual position next," He said.
"I grew up with four brothers. Marks is an amateur." Jamie said offhandedly, as if it hadn't bothered her a bit.
"You don't mind that kind of thing?"
"Would you rather he ruled against us?"
"Guess I'll have to unlearn some of my sensitivity training. If we have another hearing, you'll model silk for him again?" He asked.
"Trust me," Jamie replied, "He would have been just as big a fan of rayon."
"I'm going over to talk to Marcy Wrightman," Jack told Jamie the next morning, "Care to join me?"
"Can I knock her over the head?" Jamie asked, and Jack smiled.
"Be my guest," He said, "I'm sure you had plenty of practice, with those four brothers."
"I could take any one of them, any day," Jamie laughed.
They caught up with Marcy Wrightman as she was leaving her office.
"Ms. Wrightman," Jack called, "Can we talk?"
"You have as long as it takes me to hail a cab, Mr. McCoy."
"Do you know what Abe Mercer came up with?" Jack asked.
"I heard. The judge ruled the gun inadmissible." She replied.
"You didn't think to mention there might be a privilege problem." Jack asked, although it was more of a statement than a question.
"She didn't tell me. She didn't know it made a difference when Salva told her about the gun."
"And you didn't ask." Jack said.
"I assumed it was between bouts of heavy breathing. So did you. So shoot us both."
"She'll have to take the stand." Jamie interjected.
"She'd rather eat ground glass. Forget it."
"Use your powers of persuasion." Jack sounded as if he were trying to use his own.
"Absolutely not," Marcy replied, "You agreed to a plea, we held up our end, we gave you the gun." She reached over to open the door of the cab and began to step inside, "You renege, try cutting a deal in this town again. See you."
She climbed all the way in the cab, slammed the door and the driver took off down the street, leaving Jack and Jamie to watch her.
"I should have let you have a go at her," Jack told Jamie as he shook his head.
"I wish you had." Jamie sighed.
"Your credibility is not a boomerang," Adam told Jack in his office, later that afternoon, "Give it up, it doesn't come back. One defendant's not worth it."
"We lost the tape. We lost the gun. I'm starting to doubt the constitution, Adam." Jack said glumly.
"Well, gotta move to Montana, live on a compound."
There was a knock on the door, and Jamie let herself in.
"You'll love this. Twelve years ago Marcy Wrightman shared an office with Abe Mercer."
"Where'd you learn this from?" Jack asked.
"A process server. Back then Wrightman went by her maiden name. Fletcher."
"Oh, yes. Marcy Fletcher. They shared more than an office."
"Son of a bitch," Jack commented, wide-eyed, "Mercer played us."
"He sent Ms. Galvez to cut a deal, knowing the gun wouldn't get in." Jamie said, looking at Adam, "He got her off the hook, but we'll never prove it."
"Not to sound like a broken record, but…"
"I'm not giving up on Salva," Jack interrupted, knowing exactly what Adam was going to suggest. I have had enough of deals, he thought, now and possibly forever. Not this case, not this time. Claire was right.
"Maybe we can give Ms. Galvez a little push without breaking our agreement," Jack told Jamie as they returned to their office, "Your friend Chuck Rodman. Think he could come in again?"
"What exactly do you have in mind?"
"Call him and see if he can come in tomorrow. Dangle the death penalty case carrot in front of his nose."
"You want to transfer jurisdiction?" Jamie asked.
"No. But I want Marcy Wrightman to think that's what we're doing."
"I see. One good trick deserves another?"
"Now you're getting the hang of it." Jack smiled.
"The gun can't be used against Mr. Salva," Jack told Marcy Wrightman the next morning as he showed her into his office, with Ana Galvez following closely behind, "But it can be used against your client."
"We have a deal." Ms. Wrightman said, already on the defensive.
"With the State of New York," Jack agreed, "Not with the United States Government."
Jack opened his office door, where Jamie was waiting with Chuck Rodman, who had responded just as Jamie and Jack had hoped to Jamie's phone call.
"Mr. Rodman," Jack continued, "This is Ana Galvez and this is her attorney. Marcy Fletcher Wrightman. Mr. Rodman's with the US Attorney's office."
"What's going on here?" Ms. Wrightman asked.
Jamie pulled a letter from her briefcase and handed it to Jack, who held it in front of Ms. Wrightman.
"This letter cedes jurisdiction to the feds," He said, "Ms. Galvez, you and your boyfriend will be prosecuted in Federal Court. Mr. Rodman assures me the tape will be admitted into evidence. Both of you will face the death penalty under the anti-carjacking statute. It's not Romeo and Juliet, but..."
"Just because she knew where the gun was doesn't make her an accomplice." Ms. Wrightman cut Jack off.
"I'd settle for one execution." Jack replied.
"What do you want from me?" Ana Galvez cried, dismayed.
"You take the stand against your boyfriend, I tear up this letter."
Ms. Wrightman glanced over at her client, who looked up at her with worried eyes.
"We need a moment alone here." She said. Jack led Jamie and Chuck out of the office, and once the door shut, Chuck glared at Jamie.
"So what am I, the dog or the pony?"
"I don't know what you're talking about." Jamie shook her head.
"I blew off a staff meeting to come here for this," Chuck said, his voice strengthening in anger, "Now I came here in good faith and I expected to leave with a capital case."
"I never promised you anything." Jamie smiled.
"Persona non grata, Jamie," Chuck pointed at her, "Your calls don't get returned."
He walked off down the hallway, prompting Jack to look at Jamie with raised eyebrows.
"He'll get over it," Jamie shrugged.
The office door opened, and Ms. Wrightman leaned out, summoning Jack and Jamie back in.
"Before she agrees to testify as to what Mr. Salva told her about the crime, my client wants an assurance from you."
"Yeah?" Jack asked.
Ana Galvez was sitting in one of the chairs, her face buried in her hands.
"I don't want my baby to grow up without a father," She pleaded, "I don't want Fernando going away forever. You have to promise me that he won't."
"Ms. Galvez, I'm sorry about your situation," Jack said, "But the only way you can help your boyfriend now is to stop Uncle Sam from sticking a needle into his arm."
"You don't understand!" She cried, "It's my fault. I made him promise to get me a car so that I could take my mother to work at night in Brooklyn. He has his pride. He wanted to take care of me."
"He told you he was planning to steal the car?" Jamie asked.
"Only after, when it was on the news. He was so sick about it. That's why he didn't shoot her, that's why he covered her up. He's not evil. He did it for me, because I wanted a car. Oh, God, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry it happened."
"With her testimony, we have a case," Jack told Jamie, "Now you can tell Scarletti's clerk we're ready for trial."
"My first murder trial as an ADA," Jamie commented, "I thought we'd never get there."
"Well, sometimes it takes longer to get from there to here," Jack said, "But at least it's not a plea-bargain."
To be continued…
(The next chapter is the last)
