Okay I finally got this one semi complete. I'm still working on a few glitches. I want to thank Cheri again for being the beta. I think I need to pay her for all the aggravation here. I received a great deal of help with the location of Pat's Island (actually we had a vote on it which turned into a lot of fun) and some other really great help (thank you, thank you!) Anyway here we go again:
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6 months later
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Lessons My Family & the FBI Taught Me Part II
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The crack of the gavel brought the murmurs of the courtroom to an instant halt. The Honorable Judge Harold Wenrick went about the business of dismissing the jury. The murmurs began again; Attorney Mark McCormick had pulled off a Friday miracle.
The news media had been following this trial closely. Quincy Reeder was miraculously free to walk out of the courtroom after being acquitted of armed robbery charges. He was arrested and formally charged after a witness of a liquor store robbery picked him from a line up.
McCormick had swayed the jury with testimony of another suspect's similarities from a robbery, which occurred while Quincy Reeder was incarcerated, awaiting his trial, leaving reasonable doubt in the jury's mind of his guilt. The news media had thought the fairly new attorney crazy and inexperienced, when he had requested that his client be included in the new line up for the similar robbery. Surprisingly enough, the witness to the second robbery also picked Quincy Reeder out of the line up.
McCormick then convinced the jury that his client was suffering a case of mistaken identity; the strategy worked. Milton Hardcastle slowly made his way from the court room audience to the defense attorney's table, as McCormick finished packing his brief case. Mark shook the hand of a stunned Quincy Reeder and turned to face Hardcastle.
"I don't believe you pulled that one off; I figured it was going to backfire on you from the beginning," Hardcase snapped gruffly. "Of course, I would've never let you get away with some of that stuff in my courtroom."
"I wouldn't have tried the same tactics in your courtroom," grinned McCormick.
"Well, you got lucky this time, you better not let your head swell too much," warned Hardcastle. "Come on, we got to get through these reporters and junior ambulance chasers, before your head won't fit through the door," he grumbled, as he led the way through the mass of people.
The two slowly made their way through the throng of reporters in the lobby, who were all vying to get an exclusive statement from the brilliant attorney and his esteemed colleague. Mark stopped to make a few brief comments. Hardcastle shook his head when a few reporters approached him for a comment, instead he steered the reporters to McCormick stating the case and win were his.
Wow I'm surprised he would even admit that. Well actually, he did teach you almost everything you know. At least the legal parameters, you're just applying some San Quentin school of hard knock philosophies, which leaves a very unique combination.
Waiting impatiently near the exit of the courthouse was Lieutenant Frank Harper, he motioned to them; Hardcastle and McCormick both acknowledged him and followed. Once outside, Frank shook Mark's hand and congratulated him.
"You and Claudia are coming over to the house for steaks on the grill ala Hardcastle aren't you?" Mark asked.
"Sure; wouldn't miss this celebration, especially when Milt is footing the bill," smirked Frank.
"Oh, he wins the case, and I get to foot the bill for the food," grumbled Hardcastle.
"Now come on, Milt, this is the first case Mark took totally by himself and brought it to a successful verdict. You got to pat him on the back every once and a while, for a job well done," Frank added.
"Well, he didn't do too awful bad, but Judge Wenrick is just a pushover for these new snotty attorneys that try something new and unheard of in his courtroom. He just doesn't know what to do with them and loses all perspective," snarled Hardcastle.
"New snotty attorney, huh?" choked Mark. "Is that what you think . . . that I just confused the judge, and didn't win this case on its merits?"
"Well, I didn't exactly say that," answered Hardcastle, backpedaling slightly.
"What exactly were you trying to say then?" Mark snapped.
"Now you two stop it; you are attracting the reporters again," interrupted Frank. "I don't think you guys really want to debate this on the courthouse steps, do you?" He asked, as he looked around to see who was close enough to overhear their conversation. "Besides, Milt, whether you want to admit it or not, you were proud as a papa in there. You were grinning from ear to ear when that verdict was read. Although, you will never admit it to Mark here; God forbid he ever thinks that you're actually proud of his accomplishments."
Milt looked a little embarrassed at Frank's admonishment.
"Oh come on, we're wasting time standing here lollygagging, I gotta get home and get the grill ready for the steaks, you know," Milt snapped gruffly, as he made his way down the courthouse steps.
Frank grinned, slapped Mark on the shoulder and added, "You know, he'll never admit it, but he is really proud of you."
"But just once, I would actually like to hear him say it, just one time . . . would it kill him? . . . to admit that I can do something right?" Mark added, sounding frustrated.
"Mark, you know him better than anybody, and you know through all the things he has done for you, that he is acknowledging it . . . just in his own way," Frank softly added.
"I know the man has done more for me than I can ever repay. Heck, I'm still sponging off of him, living in his house. But I just don't feel right leaving him alone, you know . . . but he still could give me a 'you done good' every once in a while," Mark appeared to be talking more to himself than to Frank.
Frank smiled and slapped him on the shoulder, "Come on, he'll leave without you."
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The ride home in the truck was quiet. Mark concentrated on his driving, as Milt stared out the window at the passing scenery.
I guess I should tell him, how proud I am of him. He did do an excellent job. Heck, you almost punched that reporter, after McCormick's opening remarks for the trial last week, when the reporter suggested that you'd better pull McCormick out of the ring and replace him, until after he dried behind the ears, or risk looking like a legal laughing stock. He's gonna make a lot of headlines for the new law clinic with this one. He's proven himself over and over, and you still want more from him, why?
"Hey, do we need to stop anywhere and get anything for the dinner tonight?" asked McCormick, finally breaking the silence.
"Nope, got everything at home that we need," added Hardcastle.
"Are you sure, it would just take a second, do we need beer or anything?" questioned Mark.
"Now what did I just tell you, if you would just learn to listen once," grated Hardcastle.
"Okay, sorry, you're right," Mark softly added.
Okay, why are you taking it out on him? You're mad at yourself, for not being able to acknowledge how far he has come. He really has become a true partner and friend, and to think you started that whole indefinite custody business, by saying you didn't want to be buddies. Well, that's exactly what he has become, maybe even as close as family, something that he has never really had the pleasure of having for very long.
The rest of the trip home was made in silence. Each lost in their own thoughts.
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Mattie had arrived fashionably early, with a bottle of champagne to chill. Frank and Claudia arrived with a chocolate cake with peanut butter frosting, Mark's favorite, for dessert. Milt prepared the steaks to everyone's preferences. Mark had made baked potatoes and salad to accompany them. The beer was abundant and cold as they sat down on the patio.
Their celebratory dinner progressed with a relaxed carefree atmosphere; unfortunately the doorbell rang and interrupted them. Hardcastle looked at Mark, who jumped to his feet and jogged to the front of the house. A UPS deliveryman stood on the doorstep.
"I have a package for Mr. Mark McCormick," stated the man in brown.
"That's me," Mark answered.
The delivery man handed him a clipboard and pointed to the area where he should sign, indicating he received the package. Afterward, he handed Mark a large padded envelope. Mark studied the front panel; the typed name and address, and the postmark indicated the package originated from the Isle de San Pietro. He belatedly thanked the delivery man, who was already climbing back into his truck.
I wonder what it is. It has to be from Uncle Pat. He never told me where he was going, but the Isle de San Pietro would actually make sense. I think it would be difficult to extradite someone from there. Actually, now that I think about it, I don't think they have an extradition treaty with the United States.
Mark opened the envelope, as he slowly made his way back to the patio. The dinner conversation stopped, when Mark came to a halt at the side of the table deep in thought. Inside the envelope was an enlarged reprint of a black and white photograph. There were no markings on the back of the photo, or inside the envelope, no letter, no explanation. The photograph was of a woman, probably in her late fifties, from her dress, the photo was taken approximately thirty years ago. Mark stared at the photo, there was something oddly familiar about the woman, but he couldn't put a finger on why.
"Something wrong, McCormick?" Hardcastle questioned as he rose from the table.
"Someone sent me a photograph," Mark explained. "But there's no letter, no explanation, no return address."
Milt walked around the table to look over Mark's shoulder at the photo.
"I think it's from my Uncle Pat, but I have no idea who it is," Mark pondered.
"This is gonna stir up the FBI again, remember how much of a problem we had the last time? You know they gotta be watching to see if he has any contact with you," Hardcastle added.
"He's my client, remember; they can't touch me," Mark spat out, remembering all too well the interrogations, the strip search, and the time spent in a cell before Hardcastle and Frank came to the rescue.
"And you know as well as I do that, they will still be trying to get you to tell them something . . . anything. Pat made a fool of them way too often; they'll try just about anything to get a hold of him. And if they have to go through you to do it, they aren't gonna care," Hardcastle explained to his protégé.
Mattie, Frank, and Claudia listened quietly. Finally Frank spoke up in an attempt to deflect the conversation, "Why don't you guys sit down and enjoy your meals before they're stone cold. Mattie, let's open that bottle of bubbly, don't you have a toast to get out of the way?"
Mark looked guiltily at their guests, and with an embarrassed smile, regained his seat.
"Actually I do . . . Milt, if you'll do me the honor," as she handed him the bottle of champagne.
A resounding pop was heard. They cheered. Glasses were filled and raised, as Mattie rose to her feet. "To a brilliant attorney, who won his first major trial today." The glasses clinked together as everyone took a sip of the bubbling champagne.
"Thank you, how did I get so lucky to be included in this group?" Mark exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear.
"I think Milt might have had something to do with it, what . . . I'm not quite sure," whimsically pondered Mattie. This gained a resounding chuckle from all the members of the table.
Mark tried to hide his anxiety and remain attentive to the banter exchange of his friends. He attempted to push the thoughts of the anonymous package and photograph to the back of his mind, but there was an insistent gnawing and nagging. He knew that Hardcase was already upset about the package, any mention of his uncle usually ended with an argument and lecture. He would become even more irate if he had any indication that Mark intended to pursue the package further.
Hardcastle was slyly watching McCormick out of the corner of his eye, without making it too obvious to everyone at the table. He soon realized that Frank had also become quite aware of his interest, and was distracting the others from their moments of inattention.
Although he was covering well, Mark couldn't seem to stop himself from pondering the strange package and photograph. As the evening wore on, Frank could see that Mark's momentary lapses were starting to have a dominant effect on Hardcastle's reactions.
The evening drew to an end and their guests filtered to their cars and went home. Mark cleaned up the dishes and told the judge he was heading to bed. Milt watched from the kitchen window until the lights of the gatehouse were turned off.
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Please review and let me know if I should continue this or if I'm boring you to tears ----- thanks, Lyn