Judge & Jury - James Patterson [25]
“Perfectly clear, Your Honor.” Cavello stood, staring right back at her.
“But what I particularly don’t take to”—Judge Seiderman raised herself up—“is a defendant who thinks he’s big enough to toy and interfere with the criminal justice system.”
“Can Your Honor explain what it is you’re talking about?” Kaskel asked, obviously confused.
“Your client knows precisely what I’m talking about, Mr. Kaskel,” the judge replied, her gaze never wavering from Cavello’s chuckling eyes.
She reached into a drawer, pulled out the copy of the Daily News, and threw it down on her desk. Facing up was a sketch of Cavello’s courtroom look at Ralphie yesterday. GANGSTER STOPS TRIAL DEAD.
“This was in my bed last night. In my bed, Mr. Cavello! Under my covers. The evening edition broke around seven. My house was completely locked up and alarmed. No one had been inside since four that afternoon. You have an educated guess as to how this got there, Mr. Cavello?”
“I’m not an expert on these things, Your Honor.” Dominic Cavello shrugged smugly. “But maybe that’s something you ought to take up with your alarm company. Or your husband. Me, I got a pretty good excuse. I was in that prison over there.”
“I told you”—Miriam Seiderman removed her glasses—“these proceedings will not be disrupted by intimidation.”
I had to give her credit. The judge was going toe to toe with Cavello. She wasn’t backing down. “This court has given you every opportunity to have this trial conducted in the open, Mr. Cavello.”
“This court is making assumptions that it cannot possibly back up, Your Honor,” Hy Kaskel said. “Mr. Cavello has conducted himself by every rule and stipulation both sides agreed to in the pretrial hearings. You can’t point the finger at him.”
“I am pointing the finger, Mr. Kaskel. And if it’s shown in any way that this is tied back to your client . . .”
“It’s okay, Hy.” Dominic Cavello restrained his lawyer. “I understand how the judge must feel. She has to do what she has to do. It’s just that I have friends who feel a certain way as well, and the problem is, they have to do what they think is right, too.”
“What did I just hear?” The judge’s gaze was electric, drilling in on Cavello’s eyes.
“I tried to tell you from the beginning, Your Honor,” Cavello said, “we’re never going to see the end of this trial. What can I tell you? That’s just the way it is.”
I couldn’t believe what I had just heard. Even for a bull like Cavello, to direct such a bold threat at the court was extraordinary.
“Agent in Charge Pellisante,” the judge said, never flinching.
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“I’m calling a recess for the day. I want the jury sent home. In the meantime, I’ll decide how this proceeding is conducted from here on in.”
I felt I had to voice my opinion. “The jury should be sequestered, Your Honor. We can no longer take responsibility for their safety. Or even your own. We’ve mapped out various locations. I can have protective custody in motion as soon as you give the word.”
“Nick,” Cavello clucked, turning my way, “it’s a big city. Hey, maybe you ought to be watching your back, too.”
I stepped forward to take a slug at him—but someone behind me, this big, burly marshal, held me back.
“Do it, Agent Pellisante.” The judge nodded. “Set the wheels in motion. Sequester the jury.”
Chapter 25
AROUND NINE THIRTY that night, Andie was folding towels in Jarrod’s bathroom. Her darling son was in his pj’s, sitting up in bed with a schoolbook open on his lap, but he was staring off into space.
“Mom, what’s a promontory?” he called to her.
Andie came out and sat on the edge of his bed.
“It’s like a piece of land that juts out into the ocean.”
“Then what’s a peninsula?” he asked next, flipping the textbook page.
Andie shrugged. “I guess it’s a larger piece of land that juts out into the ocean.”
That day, for the first time in a week,