Cause of Justice
Lucy didn’t consider she’d arrived when she was appointed deputy district attorney of Leland County. She had her eye on the DA’s job and didn’t doubt she’d get it one day. As a defense lawyer for six years, prosecuting those accused of crimes would be a whole different story, but she had confidence she could do the job and do it well.
Once she’d physically moved into the office provided, she made sure she was on time for her introductory meeting with her boss. Most people were a little in awe of Palmer Sargent, a Vietnam vet and a proven formidable foe in the courtroom. But Palmer had slowed down in the last couple of years. His combat injuries—the loss of a leg and an arm—were finally getting to him. More and more he relied on his deputies to be his physical presence in the courtroom.
Lucy had seen him in action and thanked her lucky stars she’d never had to go up against him. But working for him was another story. She could rise to that challenge.
**
Her first impression of the man sitting behind a desk which almost dwarfed him was, He looks old. Old and tired.
He nodded an invitation to sit. “Are you settled in and ready to go, Ms. Thane?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. You’ve heard about the n Walford case.” It wasn’t a question.
Lucy’s heart plummeted to her toes, and nausea threatened. Dick Walford, politically connected multi-millionaire, rumored to have friends in the local and even the national mafia, all around sleaze ball against whom the grand jury had brought in an indictment of first degree murder based only on circumstantial evidence. She swallowed hard. “Yes, sir.”
“His attorneys are pushing for a dismissal. It’s not going to happen, but I’m asking for a court date next month just to get on with things and end their stream of motions.” He rubbed his eyes. “He’s guilty as hell, and he knows it, and so does everyone else.”
“Yes sir.”
“You’ve formed an opinion then?”
“Yes...no...I mean, the police investigation...”
“Was sloppy until Jesse Thompson took over as police chief after Ace Harbin...died.”
Was murdered. A mob hit. Everyone says so. Thompson’s already had public threats.
“I want Walford put away, the sooner the better. His lawyers will appeal ‘til the cows come home, and maybe they’ll be successful, but he’ll do some time until a bought and paid for judge somewhere turns him loose. Whatever, I’m going to personally be there to see the door slammed on his cell.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You’ll be trying the case.”
“Me?” Lucy’s stomach heaved, and her body felt ice cold.”
“I’m going to feed you everything, but you’re new, and the defense will consider you easy pickings. You won’t be.”
“But...”
“I can’t physically do it, Ms. Thane. Besides what Nam did to me, I’m in the early stages of Parkinsons, and it’s getting worse every month. Walford’s bully boys would go for the jugular in a public forum. That’s not how I want to go out. Nobody does.”
“No, sir.”
“You came with great recommendations, and you’ve been a defense lawyer. You’ll have some idea of where that side of the aisle is going and how it’s planning to get there.”
Lucy couldn’t speak.
“Take those files home over the weekend and internalize everything in them.” He indicated a pile of manila folders on the corner of his desk. We’ll talk again on Monday.”
Back in her own office, Lucy sank into chair still clutching the thick stack of folders. She hadn’t counted on this. Not being thrown to the wolves on her first day. Walford’s attorneys would make mincemeat of her. They’d chew her up and spit her out and drop innuendos to the press. Her career would be finished before it even got started.
**
By Sunday night, when she’d read all the files, some of them twice, she was convinced Dick Walford was a monster who deserved to rot in the worse prison in the state. But the evidence against him for murdering his wife was only circumstantial, and his lawyers would have no problem paying witnesses to lie under oath. She didn’t stand a chance. Better to turn in her resignation tomorrow and crawl off with her tail between her legs in private than to become a public laughing stock.
After carefully reorganizing all the papers, she locked them in a drawer and went to bed. The phone beside her bed rang at three o’clock in the morning. Precisely three.
“Ms. Thane?”
“Yes.” She tried to wake herself to a level of cognizance.
“Ms. Thane, this is just a friendly call. You won’t want to get mixed up with the case Palmer Sargent just foisted off on you. You’re young. You have a life in front of you. You owe it to yourself to take care of it.”
“What are you saying?”
“Just this: decline to prosecute. Oh, Sargent will find someone else, but it won’t do him any good.”
“And if I do?”
“Then you’ll fall into some remuneration. How does two hundred K strike you?”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then you’ll fall into your own grave. Think about it.” The caller hung up.
Lucy dropped the phone back into the cradle and lay back. Oddly, she felt no surprise, only gut-wrenching fear and scorching anger. She closed her eyes and considered the man’s words again. His threats were veiled, but they were real.
Exhausted after failing to fall back to sleep, she presented herself in Palmer Sargent’s office at nine o’clock the next morning. “I read the files.”
“And?”
“I’ll give it my best shot with your guidance.”
“Good. Pull up a chair, and let’s get started.”
**
Within hours the first day of the trial turned into a ludicrous circus featuring four defense attorneys who, in the judge’s words when adjourning for noon, might as well be wearing clown costumes and riding donkeys. Lucy thought she recognized one of their voices as her three AM caller, but she couldn’t be sure.
Finally, with the jury selected and the judge’s warnings to the defense to come back the next day with a more respectful attitude, she let one of the police officers sent over by Jesse Thompson escort her out of the courtroom and back to her office.
For the second time her phone rang at three o’clock in the morning. “You can still take my offer.”
She smiled into the darkness. “Go to hell,” she said and hung up.
**
The next morning Chief Jesse Thompson appeared in the courtroom along with four officers and sat directly behind the prosecutor’s table. They were there every morning thereafter. Palmer Sargent wrote the summation for Lucy, and she stayed up all night memorizing it word for word so it would seem extemporaneous and authentic. She could tell from watching that the jury bought it.
They stayed out just over six hours and brought in a verdict of guilty of murder in the first degree. Dick Walford sat down abruptly. Even his cadre of attorneys looked shocked. Lucy felt like crying with relief, but she held it together. The judge set a sentencing date, and the defendant, now deemed a flight risk, was remanded to custody.
“If looks could kill, you’d be dead twice over,” Jesse Thompson said behind Lucy as she gathered her papers and stuffed them into her briefcase.
She shrugged.
“It’s not over, you know.”
“I know.”
“You’ll have police protection twenty-four-seven for a while.”
“Thank you.”
“Just watch your back.”
**
But it was Palmer Sargent they went after. Shot and killed instantly—assassinated—as he left his house a week later. No one doubted Dick Walford had exacted a revenge of sorts. There was talk of Lucy moving into the DA’s office, but she squelched it. “I’m not ready,” she said. “He prosecuted this case, just not physically in the courtroom. I couldn’t have done it on my own.”
Another more experienced deputy took the job and won re-election twice. Lucy found him a good man to work for and gave everything her best shot. Somewhere along the way, she found her ambition diminished. Doing what she could do—and doing it well—satisfied her completely. She’d become a lawyer because she believed in justice, and she believed in it even more with each passing day.
On the fifth anniversary of Palmer Sargent’s death, she took flowers to the cemetery and stood a moment beside his grave. He’d given his life in the cause of justice on the battlefield abroad and at home. He’d taught her she could do no less.