Page 56 of The Accomplice
I checked my phone. No new texts. I was waiting on Betty Clarke from theSentinelcoming back to me with some information. Since Bloch was out with Lake, I needed another source. I’d done some research on Betty. She was five years into the job at theSentinelas their crime correspondent. Now that I thought about it, I’d seen her hanging around night court. You see a lot of hungry journalists there, hoping that a drunken celebrity might be rolled in so they can get a scoop to sell themselves to theNew York Timesor thePost. Having asked around, I found out Betty was well liked, even trusted. And that meant she had access. Sometimes it’s a smarter career move for a reporter not to publish a story. There’s always a bigger one, and making friends always helped unlock the kind of doors that might have big skeletons hiding behind them.
I sent her a text.
Any luck ?
And waited.
My phone vibrated.
I’ve got something but waiting for confirmation.
I tapped out a reply, hit send.
We’re tight for time. Please get it asap.
I heard the doors opening over the hum of the excited crowd. Harry strode up the center aisle and took his seat beside me.
‘All good,’ said Harry.
I got up and approached Stoker’s clerk, an old timer called Jerry. The last judge he’d clerked for was a drinker. Sometimes he showed up to court too drunk to sit upright. That is until Jerry poured a pot of coffee into him and stalled all the lawyers to buy him time. In other words, Jerry came from the kind of loyal stock that was rare in support staff. He was Stoker’s first choice once Jerry’s judge retired.
‘Jerry, I need to get in to see the judge,’ I said. ‘It’s a personal matter. I don’t want the DA in there with me.’
‘Is that even allowed ? Is it do with the case ?’ asked Jerry.
At this point, Harry came over and said hi to Jerry. They knew one another well. Jerry even acted as dealer in an illicit card game that Harry ran for senior judges.
‘Eddie needs a minute with the judge on his own. I know it sounds unusual, but it’s fine. Tell Judge Stoker he has nothing to worry about.’
Normally, counsel in a trial cannot speak to the judge without opposing counsel present. It stops any kind of implication of impropriety and actual or perceived bias. It’s not written down anywhere, it’s one of those conventions.
‘Well, if you say it’s okay, Harry. I don’t think His Honor is going to like it one bit, though,’ said Jerry.
‘That wouldn’t surprise me. How’s it going with him anyways ?’ asked Harry.
‘He’s a fair man,’ said Jerry, with a resigned sigh that translated ‘fair man’ into ‘raging asshole’.
‘Keep it together, Jerry. Good seeing you,’ said Harry.
And with that, Jerry led me through the rear door of the courtroom, along a hallway and into the chambers of the orange-tanned Judge Stoker, who was seated behind his desk. If anything, he looked an even deeper bronze this morning. Perhaps he was anticipating the myriad international news reports and wanted to make sure he looked his best. Or what he thought looked good, at least. To me he looked as if he had been dipped in a barrel of varnish before falling into a buffing machine. It all looked so unnatural. And yet, that was the way of some men. To hide the darkness in their hearts, they wore a disguise. Except they weren’t exactly sure what normal looked like, nor what it felt like. And so they made some extreme choices.
‘Good morning, Your Honor, I’d like to discuss a private matter, if I may ?’
‘You’ll have to wait until Jerry brings in the DA.’
‘He’s not bringing in the DA. Like I said, this is a private—’
‘Jerry, where’s the DA ?’ said Stoker, cutting me off.
‘Judge Ford said it’s okay for you to talk to Mr. Flynn on a private matter.’
‘He’s not a judge anymore, Jerry,’ said Stoker. ‘I’m the judge in this case.’
‘You’re a fair man,’ said Jerry, and left the office, closing the door behind him.
‘Jerr—’
‘Your Honor, this is a potential criminal misconduct issue with the District Attorney’s office. If you bring him in here, you’re going to tip him off and that’s an abuse of process and possibly perverting the course of justice. I do not come into a judge’s chambers asking to speak with them privately without good cause.’
