She nods. "I've got plenty of that."
I'm definitely making progress, and I want to be extra careful what I say so I don't blow it. "Would you tell me about it?"
She sighs her defeat. "Are you hungry? This is going to be a long night."
"The longer the better," I say. "Besides, I had four stakeout donuts in the car."
"What is a stakeout donut?"
This woman is an FBI agent? J. Edgar would snap his garters if he could hear this. "It's a technical term," I say. "You wouldn't understand."
The next three hours are the most exciting I've ever spent, with a woman with my clothes on. Cindy has made a study of Hobbs from her vantage point as his subordinate/punching bag, and she has the goods on him.
From his high-level perch in the FBI, he has essentially been providing protection for his elite army squad, which has come together for some domestic work. There were at least four men under Hobbs, probably more, though it will take investigatory work to find any others.
All were involved in different types of criminal activity, still under Hobbs's command. But his blanket of protection was not total. Dorsey, for instance, drew too much attention to himself, and Hobbs couldn't keep him out of trouble without exposing himself. Murdoch had the bad luck of having his counterfeit plates found by the fire department, and it became public so quickly that Hobbs was powerless to intervene.
For all intents and purposes, Cindy can prove what Hobbs has been up to, but with some glaring gaps, the main one being the Dorsey murder. She believes that Hobbs either murdered Dorsey himself or more likely sent Cahill to do it, but the evidence simply does not exist to get Laurie off the hook.
By the time I leave her house at eleven o'clock, I've got a plan formulated. I call Kevin and bring him up to date, then I give him a list of subpoenas to start serving. I also tell him to call Captain Reid and ask for some special help. For us to have any chance to pull this off, we've got to start now.
Laurie is waiting up when I get home; she would have stayed up if I didn't come home until November. She devours what I have to say and wants me to tell her exactly what we're going to do from here on in. I describe it as best I can, but a lot of it is going to be reactive, and she's just going to have to trust me.
We get to sleep at two and we're up at six-thirty. I've got to be ready to play a different role today. I've spent most of my adult life in courtrooms, but today, for the first time, I'm going to be a witness.
Kevin and I meet at the coffee shop to do a crash preparation for my testimony, since we didn't have a chance to go over it last night. What I learned from Cindy Spodek has changed our goal for my testimony. Rather than provide the crucial basis for our defense, I am in effect a setup man, helping the jury understand what they will later be presented with.
Dylan again objects to my testifying, and Hatchet shoots him down. Kevin takes me through the basics of my relationship with Laurie, from our first meeting until today. I openly admit our romantic attachment; the jury knows about it anyway, and it's better that we acknowledge it voluntarily than let Dylan appear to be exposing it.
Within fifteen minutes we're at the meat of what I'm here to say. I talk about the day that Stynes came into my office, describing my attorney-client privilege dilemma, my subsequent decision to defend Oscar, and my sending Laurie out to the stadium to retrieve what I thought were Stynes's clothes.
"Did you ever see Stynes again?" Kevin asks.
I nod, and for the first time I'm in danger of losing my focus and becoming emotional. "I asked a young man to help me find Alex Dorsey. His name was Barry Leiter, and when it was discovered that he was helping me, Stynes shot him to death in his home. The police killed Stynes on the scene, but it was too late to help Barry."
After a few more questions Kevin and I make eye contact, and I can tell that we both feel we've covered the facts that we wanted the jury to hear. He sits down and lets Dylan have a shot at me.
"Mr. Carpenter," he begins, "did anyone else hear Stynes's confession to you?"
"No."
"Had you ever met him before?"
"No, I had not."
"Was he referred to you by someone?"
"No."
"So out of the blue he came into your office and told you a story, which you are now telling the jury. A story which just happens to argue against your client's guilt. Your lover's guilt. Is that what you're telling us?"
"Yes. That's what I'm telling you."
"This is a woman you want to spend the rest of your life with?"
Kevin objects as to relevancy, but Hatchet lets me answer.
"I certainly do."
"And that would be difficult if she were in prison?" he asks.
"It would. Which makes me glad the truth is on her side."
Dylan objects, and he and Kevin fight it out for a while in a bench conference. When it concludes, Dylan veers off from this area and focuses on my involvement with Oscar Garcia. His contention is that I was less than zealous in my representation of Oscar, questioning me about my inability to uncover the bank tapes in the supermarket. The clear implication is I was throwing Oscar to the wolves to make sure Laurie stayed in the clear.
Dylan asks, "If Mr. Garcia had been convicted, then Ms. Collins would likely not have been charged. Isn't that true?"
"I can't answer that. You're the one who charges people without regard to the facts, so you might want to testify after I do."
The jury laughs, which pleases me but infuriates Dylan. We spar for a little while longer, but he seems even happier to finally let me off the stand than I am to get off.
The testimony went very well. We got out the story about Stynes without having to reveal what we know about his military connection to Dorsey, even without revealing that his real name is Cahill. The less of this that comes out before Hobbs takes the stand, the better. That's if we can get Hobbs to take the stand.
Tomorrow will be the key to the entire trial, and Kevin and I go over our approach until past midnight. Marcus calls to report that the subpoenas have been served and that Hobbs was furious to receive one. Marcus served that one personally. He thought the level of Hobbs's anger was pretty funny; the fact that Hobbs might well be a Green Beret killing machine did not intimidate him. If I ever meet someone who intimidates Marcus, I am going to be very afraid of that person.
Simply put, we have to make Hobbs look bad on the stand. So bad that suspicion gets cast on him and away from Laurie. We cannot prove that he murdered anyone, but we can prove some other facts, and the trick will be to get him to perjure himself by denying those facts. It's risky; if he detects our strategy, he can just admit to the facts and explain them away with minimal embarrassment. That would be it for our defense.
Which means that would be it for Laurie.
DYLAN HAS SMOKE COMING OUT OF HIS EARS when I arrive in court. He has been confronted by a roomful of potential witnesses that we have subpoenaed, none of whom were on our witness list. Which means he has not prepared for any of them.
Those witnesses consist of four members of the Paterson Police Department, including Pete Stanton, as well as three FBI agents. Two of those agents are Darrin Hobbs, who is angry at the imposition, and Cindy Spodek, who is secretly privy to our scheme and nervous about her crucial role in it.
Before the jury is called in, Dylan objects to the witnesses' appearance, based on our not having put them on our list, and also based on relevance. Hatchet agrees to hear argument on the matter, and I suggest that we might as well let the witnesses be in the courtroom to hear the argument themselves, as well as each other's subsequent testimony, should it be admitted. Dylan agrees, as I hoped and expected he would.
If we don't get these witnesses in, we are dead in the water. "Your Honor," I say, "these people were not included on our witness list because they are rebuttal witnesses, called to rebut the specific testimony of Captain Franks."
Hatchet is properly suspicious of my motivation here, since this is clearly overkill to rebut a relatively innocuous witness like Franks. "I didn't realize Captain Franks was that powerful a witness, nor that significant a part of this case," he observes dryly.
"Respectfully, Your Honor, I disagree. He portrayed Lieutenant Dorsey as cut down in the prime of life just before reaching sainthood. I believe these witnesses will paint a truer picture, and it is important for the jury to hear that truth."
"This is a delaying tactic, Your Honor," Dylan argues. "As well as an attempt to muddy the water and blame the victim. I urge you not to allow it."
I jump in before Hatchet can say anything negative to our side; this is not an issue I can be passive about. "Your Honor, it is entirely possible that all of these witnesses will not be necessary. And if you determine that I am not eliciting significant and relevant facts, you can stop me in my tracks with a ruling."
Hatchet stares another hole through my forehead. "Are you saying you will abide by my future rulings? Is that your idea of a concession?"