The Brass Verdict

the justice system. Most cops have this view and I can live with it. But it bothers me when fellow lawyers adopt the pose. Unfortunately, Dwight Posey was one of these, and if I could’ve gone through the rest of my life without ever having to talk to him, I would have been a happy man. But that was not going to be the case.
    “So, Haller,” he said after taking the call, “they’ve got you walking in a dead man’s shoes, don’t they?”
    “What?”
    “They gave you all of Jerry Vincent’s cases, right? That’s how you ended up with Henson.”
    “Yeah, something like that. Anyway, I’m returning your call, Dwight. Actually, your three calls. What’s up? You get the motion I filed yesterday?”
    I reminded myself that I had to step carefully here if I wanted to get everything I could out of the phone call. I couldn’t let my distaste for the prosecutor affect the outcome for my client.
    “Yes, I got the motion. It’s sitting right here on my desk. That’s why I’ve been calling.”
    He left it open for me to step in.
    “And?”
    “And, uh, well, we’re not going to do that, Mick.”
    “Do what, Dwight?”
    “Put our evidence out there for examination.”
    It was looking more and more like I had struck a major nerve with my motion.
    “Well, Dwight, that’s the beauty of the system, right? You don’t get to make that decision. A judge does. That’s why I didn’t ask you. I put it in a motion and asked the judge.”
    Posey cleared his throat.
    “No, actually, we do this time,” he said. “We’re going to drop the theft charge and just proceed with the drug charge. So you can withdraw your motion or we can inform the judge that the point is moot.”
    I smiled and nodded. I had him. I knew then that Patrick was going to walk.
    “Only problem with that, Dwight, is that the drug charge came out of the theft investigation. You know that. When they popped my client, the warrant was for the theft. The drugs were found during the arrest. So you don’t have one without the other.”
    I had the feeling that he knew everything I was saying and that the call was simply following a script. We were going where Posey wanted us to go and that was fine with me. This time I wanted to go there, too.
    “Then, maybe we can just talk about a disposition on the matter,” he said as if the idea had just occurred to him.
    And there we were. We had come to the place Posey had wanted to get to from the moment he’d answered the call.
    “I’m open to it, Dwight. You should know that my client voluntarily entered a rehab program after his arrest. He has completed the program, has full-time employment and has been clean for four months. He’ll give his piss anytime, anywhere, to prove it.”
    “That is really good to hear,” Posey said with false enthusiasm. “The DA’s Office, as well as the courts, always look favorably upon voluntary rehabilitation.”
    Tell me something I don’t know, I almost said.
    “The kid is doing good. I can vouch for that. What do you want to do for him?”
    I knew how the script would read now. Posey would turn it into a goodwill gesture from the prosecution. He would make it seem as though the D.A.’s Office were giving out the favor here, when the truth was that the prosecution was acting to insulate an important figure from political and personal embarrassment. That was fine with me. I didn’t care about the political ends of the deal as long as my client got what I wanted him to get.
    “Tell you what, Mick. Let’s make it go away, and maybe Patrick can use this opportunity to move ahead with being a productive member of society.”
    “Sounds like a plan to me, Dwight. You’re making my day. And his.”
    “Okay, then get me his rehab records and we’ll put it into a package for the judge.”
    Posey was talking about making it a pretrial intervention case. Patrick would have to take biweekly drug tests and in six months the case would go away if he kept clean. He would still have an arrest on his record but no conviction. Unless…
    “You willing to expunge his record?” I asked.
    “Uh…, that’s asking a lot, Mickey. He did, after all, break in and steal the diamonds.”
    “He didn’t break in, Dwight. He was invited in. And the alleged diamonds are what this is all about, right? Whether or not he actually did steal any diamonds.”
    Posey must have realized he had misspoken by bringing up the diamonds. He folded his tent quickly.
    “All right, fine.