No Team To Root For (29) "I would love to pretend your testimony didn't take place." Miles said as he blotted his mouth with a napkin. "But it did!" The three men ate in silence for several minutes. Then Barrett asked, "Did Morris Hartman call Sam Ingles?" "Darrell Saltz was out of town during this period." continued George Archer. "So Ingles was the man in charge." "That's exactly what Saltz told me when I was arrested!" "Hmmm --- too bad." Miles finished his roll and washed it down with the rest of his coffee. "Sam Ingles did in fact receive a locally placed phone call when he said he did." said George. "But there is no record of who made the call or the exact time the call was placed." "So then," said the eye doctor as he pushed his food away, "there is really nothing to prove or disprove what Morris Hartman said." George shook his head. "Sorry, Barrett." "But the son-of-a-bitch is lying!" said the frustrated optometrist. "I'm sure he is." said Miles. "But I told you. We need proof." He looked at George. "And that is what we are supposedly trying to do now." "If that fucking Aaron --- " "Barrett!" Miles waved his finger in his client's face. "I don't want to hear that name again --- ever! Understand? Claypool is dead. The issue is dead." He put his face closer to Barrett's and raised his voice. "And now thanks to you, we may be dead!" The attorney glanced at George then looked out of the window. This time his tone was softer. "I need a moment to think." After a long pause, George added apologetically, "I pulled out all the stops. I checked with policemen, attorneys, state officials, con-gressmen. And even some small time hoods I know." He shrugged. "I could find no evidence of any type of conspiracy or set up. Noth-ing!" He turned to Barrett. "And I do believe something is going on that isn't quite --- kosher!" "Well." said Miles. "Conspirators are experts in knowing how to cover their dirty tracks. And if you couldn't find anything --- well then, shit!" "So are we back to square one?" asked Barrett. Neither man answered. Then after an unusually long silence, Miles stood. He opened his eyes widely and began to rub his hands together zealously. Barrett knew that an idea had suddenly struck the attorney. He could almost see the lighted bulb over Miles' head. "Maybe --- not!" "You have some sort of a --- plan?" asked the detective. "I'm not sure." Miles put his hands behind him and walked up to the bookcase. He picked up a deck of cards, studied it briefly then carefully laid it down. Then he nonchalantly turned around. "Tell me, George. Did you ever play --- poker?" "Poker?" George glanced at Barrett, then he turned back to Miles, giving him a quizzical look. "Sure. Why?" "Well --- what if --- ?" Miles paused and rubbed his chin. "Go on." encouraged George. "What if --- " Miles stopped rubbing his chin and pointed his forefinger toward the ceiling. --- we initiate a bluff?" "A bluff?" George looked totally lost. "I suggested that once." Barrett interjected. "What if --- we go to Walt?" Miles ignored him. "And what if --- we act as if we have proof and we know there was a conspiracy?" He sat down on the sofa next to Barrett. "Hmmm --- " George nodded. " --- has possibilities." "Okay." Miles sat forward in his seat. "Let's pursue this." "I'm all ears." George also sat forward. "Walt Ivers is weak. He could never mastermind any sort of a collusion by himself." "He obviously had help." George was into it now. Barrett continued to remain simply an onlooker. "Obviously!" Miles spoke with profundity. "Now the big ques-tion. Who would help him?" Miles and George stared at each other, both lost in thought. Bar-rett remained silent. George spoke first. "What about the Attorney General?" Miles shook his head. "No. I've known Milton a long time and he is too much of a wimp. No. Not the Attorney General." "What about Stoner?" asked Archer. "Stoner." Miles narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips. "Hmmm --- very possible. In fact, highly probable." Miles rubbed his chin again. "But even with Stoner's help, it's still a weak combination. There has to be someone behind this stronger and more ruthless than either Ivers or Stoner." "Who then?" asked a bewildered George Archer. "Maybe another attorney, or another judge, or a congressman, or --- " "Or --- " Miles jumped up and again pointed his finger at the ceil-ing. " --- a governor!" "A governor?" asked George. "Yes. A governor. The governor of Ohio. Bruce Hollstadt to be exact!" Miles began to pace slowly. "Why didn't I think of this be-fore?" "The governor of Ohio?" Barrett's voice cracked. "George, this is ingenious!" Miles continued to ignore Barrett. "I seem to recall reading in the New York Times --- this is a while back --- that several politicians were involved in some very shady dealings: Bribes; slush funds; money laundering --- . I am certain that Bruce Hollstadt was one of the names." "You want me to check it out?" George was elated. Miles thought about it for a second before responding. "I'll call Walt Ivers. We'll need another forty eight hours!" Two days later, they met once again in Barrett Jessop's family room. TV tables were set up and coffee had been poured. "Okay, George. The stage is yours." Miles spoke with cautious optimism. George took a large white neatly folded piece of paper from his pants pocket. He opened it slowly and read. "Regarding Bruce Hollstadt. 1978. Accused of misappropriation of funds when his bank account in Atlanta suddenly became six-hundred-thousand dollars richer and a defunct bank in Seattle suddenly became six-hundred-thousand dollars poorer. Case was dropped for lack of evidence. 1979. A savings and loan in St Louis went belly up. It took four years for investors to recoup their losses. Bruce Holl-stadt, who just happened to be the president at the time, walked away with two million dollars. He said he was lucky! Charges of fraud were dropped for lack of evidence." The detective took a deep breath. "1981. One and one half million in funds from an oil stock appeared mysteriously one day in Hollstadt's checking ac-count in Butte, Montana. All other investors lost fortunes. No charges were filed." George looked up as he folded the paper and put it away. "The list goes on and on. Each time either there were no charges or all charges were dropped for lack of evidence." "After hearing all that," Miles said, "I'm not sure whether Holl-stadt or Hartman is a greater threat to society." "Hartman is petty compared to Hollstadt." said George deject-edly. After a long silence, Barrett asked, "So how did this SOB get to be governor?" Miles spoke up quickly. "As much as I hate to admit it, he has a powerful gift of gab, an incredible phony charm, a smile that never fades and a fake sincerity that you could vomit from!" He took a deep breath and wet his lips. "Insufficient proof --- on all counts. Great! So what else is new?" There was another long extended silence. Once again George spoke first. "I feel terrible about not being able to come up with anything concrete on Hollstadt." Neither man responded. The de-tective went on. "But even so Miles, I still think your idea has merit." Miles nodded. Barrett listened. George continued. "If we could tie Hollstadt in with Ivers and Stoner, I bet we could make one helluva case!" Miles began to pace. He stopped abruptly. "Wait a minute!" Bar-rett looked for the light bulb again. "Next year Bruce Hollstadt is running for the Senate." The attorney sat down and faced George. "It's been on TV and in most of the newspapers." George folded his arms and nodded. "Making the gullible public think you care about their welfare is a great way to garner votes." Miles spoke with renewed enthusiasm. "And what better way than to bullshit the voters into thinking you are the one man that is doing all he can in a concentrated effort, to reduce crime in the cities of Ohio!" "So then by a chain of convictions --- " added George. "Exactly! And Barrett Jessop was going to be a very important link in that chain" George and Barrett both nodded excitedly. "So in essence," continued Miles, "Hollstadt wasn't helping Ivers. It was the other way around." "Makes sense to me." said the detective. "Now, George, hear me out. This gets a bit tricky --- and it is only speculation. But, suppose --- just suppose, that Bruce Holl-stadt told or warned Ivers or Stoner --- or both, that unless Barrett were convicted, their political futures and futures in general would be --- uncertain." "And you think Hollstadt is that powerful?" "It certainly fits. Because with Ivers and Stoner being weak, we have a perfect match and perfect conditions to execute a conniv-ance!" Miles stood and rubbed his chin again. Barrett and George both knew the attorney's brain was in high gear. There was a long silent pause. Miles broke the spell. "George. Let's suppose again." He waved his finger in the air. "Suppose --- we go to Walt Ivers and Mason Stoner and act like we know some-thing we're not supposed to know." "We allude to the fact that we have proof of this collusion." George's eyes were wide and bright. "We don't say we do --- and we don't say we don't." "Exactly!" Miles' arms were straight up and his head was back. With the sudden realization that the defense might have some bargaining power, the desolate mood brightened with anticipation. "I believe I suggested this once." Barrett tried to get his say in. "If you would have listened to --- " "Barrett!" snapped Miles. "You have said enough --- for a life-time! Now just shut up and listen! The rest of your life is going to be decided in the next twenty-four hours!" "And you're right, Miles. There's no proof." added George. "I can sure as hell attest to that!" Both men continued to speak as if only the two of them were in the room. "But maybe Walt Ivers and Mason Stoner don't know it, George. And that's the key." "So." George stood up and faced the door. "We have nothing to lose." "Nothing at all. All we have to do is force a compromise." said Miles. "Strike a deal of some sort. Only this time we call the shots!" "And," added George, " try to eliminate a murder one indict-ment." "Otherwise," said Miles softly, "Barrett Jessop is literally a 'dead duck!' " Miles steered the detective away from the defendant and walked toward the window. "Okay, George. Here's the plan. While the two men were quietly plotting their strategy, Barrett sat silently staring into space. Miles was right. I should never have taken the stand! * XXXIX Miles and George walked slowly down the familiar long dingy and deserted hallway to meet with Walt Ivers and Mason Stoner. Their meeting would take place in the judge's chambers --- another familiar setting. They were both silent and pensive, somberly aware that they were about to play their final card. "George, this case has had the most bizarre combinations of out-landish features I have ever been associated with. And I am having trouble accepting my position as Barrett's attorney and being a part of it." "I know exactly what you mean, Miles." Both men had come to a stop and were facing each other only twenty feet from their destina-tion. "Speaking as an ex-cop, I would opt to have him arrested and turned in on a murder one charge." He shrugged. "But I'm not serving as a cop here. I am serving as assistant to Miles Garrison, Attorney at Law." "I am so --- uneasy about all of this." "So am I. But it's just as you said back there." George gestured with his thumb. "You said that he is still our client. And besides the matter of confidentiality, we do have this dubious obligation to do what is in the best interests of Barrett Jessop." Both men knew from past experience that Miles was not asking George's opinion. He was only interested in having the detective help him sort out the muddled facts and reinforce his own personal observations. It was something George was used to. They continued their steady and deliberate walk and were now five feet from Stoner's door. Miles grabbed George's arm. "I know this may be stretching a point. But when we go in there to bargain with Walt, we will not be bargaining for the Bartless case." He threw a quick glance at the closed door. "We will actually be bargaining for the --- other crime. The one we know he did." George paused a second and nodded. Then he smiled. "George, may I ask you what is so amusing?" The detective put his strong arm around Miles' small shoulder. Then he looked at the door ahead of them and said very softly in the attorney's ear, "Wouldn't Ivers and Stoner both shit if they knew the entire story?" Now it was the defense lawyer's turn to nod and smile. "They cer-tainly would, George. They most certainly would!" * Mason Stoner opened the door after George's first knock. The two men came in tensely and sat down quietly in two chairs across from the judge's desk. Stoner also sat down in his large chair behind the desk. Walt Ivers was already seated. Everyone now occupied the same chair in the same spot that they had occupied on their pre-vious meeting. An extra chair was set next to Miles for the detec-tive. The atmosphere was both hostile and portentous. There were no smiles, no hellos, and no handshakes. Miles thought Ivers' smug expression denoted certain victory for the State. He thought the prosecutor displayed premature confi-dence --- maybe overconfidence. For several minutes no one spoke. Each man looked away, seem-ingly waiting for the other to make the first move. Miles again saw it as a massive chess game. George looked at Miles trying to send him a telepathic message. Go for it, Miles! The defense attorney stood, smoothed out his jacket, put his hands in his pockets and began to pace between the desk and the door. Message received! Several more minutes elapsed. Still there were no sounds except the ticking of the Grandfather clock which seemed to get louder with each tick as it loomed over all. Miles made the initial move. He spoke directly to Mason Stoner. "It would appear that each of us has a problem." "We have no problem, Garrison." sneered Ivers. "So speak for yourself!" "Our problem is obvious." Miles turned to Ivers ignoring his comment. "We need to bargain and reach a compromise." Mason Stoner sat back with his chin in his hand, a silent observer. Walt stood up quickly and pointed his finger at the defense attor-ney. "You had your chance, Garrison, and you blew it. No com-promises!" The two lawyers faced each other. Ivers continued to sneer. "This time the jury will decide the outcome." His smug smile widened. "And let the cards fall --- et cetera, et cetera!" "It isn't all that cut and dried --- Mr. Prosecutor!" "And just what the fuck is that supposed to mean --- Mr. De-fender?" Miles turned to the judge. "Gentlemen. I would like to discuss the testimony of Hartman and Ingles." Mason Stoner sat forward, still silent but more observant. George listened quietly. "Regarding what?" asked Ivers, his head slightly tilted. Miles glanced at George then turned back to Stoner. "We feel that, maybe, certain things were said under oath that were --- " Miles loosened his tie. " --- shall we say --- somewhat distorted?" "Damn you, Garrison!" Ivers walked closer to Miles. They were a foot apart. "Are you daring to insinuate that my witnesses lied on the witness stand? Because if you are --- " Miles walked away to the desk. He spoke to Ivers but he looked Mason Stoner in the eye. "You said lied. I didn't!" "Bullshit!" yelled Ivers. "You're blowing smoke out of your ass! You got --- " "Do you want to discuss it or not?" Miles yelled back at Walt. "There is nothing to discuss." Walt came up to the desk and faced Miles. "Hartman and Ingles were very accurate and your cli-ent is very guilty!" Miles paused and took a deep breath. Then he turned to Stoner. He talked calmly. "Your Honor. I hope you were not a party to --- all of this." "All of what, Garrison? All of what?" Again Walt was close to Miles. His face was beet red. Mason Stoner remained silent, but his breathing was getting no-ticeably more intense. George Archer continued to look on. "Tell me, Garrison." Walt Ivers squinted his eyes and tilted his head again. "You got proof of these --- mighty allegations?" Miles could see that Walt Ivers' anger was getting the best of him. And he knew that if you were angry enough you couldn't think logically. "You know, Walt, I shouldn't be talking to you anyway." "Is that a fact?" Miles walked past the desk and Walt followed. "No!" The defense attorney answered quickly. Then he turned to George and smiled. "I should probably be talking to the Attorney General." "No one is buying your crap, Garrison!" Walt was right behind Miles and yelling at the back of his head. "Now either prove it or shove it!" "On second thought --- " Miles continued to be calm. " --- maybe I'll go to the --- Governor." Miles turned just in time to see Ivers and Stoner exchange a quick look of panic. He knew George saw it too. It gave him all the as-surance he needed to know his hunches were on target. He kept the pressure going. "Unless of course, the Governor was also in on it." Miles began to pace again. Walt followed on his heels. "In on what, Garrison? In on what?" Saliva was forming at the corners of Ivers' mouth. "You keep talking in circles, for Christ's sake!" "Forget it, Walt." Miles stopped and turned to the prosecutor. "I don't know what possessed me to come here in the first place." He then looked at a concerned Mason Stoner. "The more I think about it, the better I like the idea of going to the Governor."
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