Murder at Ford's Theatre - Margaret Truman [100]
“He was charged with resisting arrest and—”
“Objection, your honor,” Smith said. “We’ve asked that those charges be dropped by Mr. LeCour’s office.”
“I’m well aware of that, Mr. Smith,” said the judge. “Anything else, Mr. LeCour?”
“Just that we ask that no bail be set, Judge.”
“Under the circumstances, I don’t see the need for an excessive amount of bail. Two hundred thousand.” He rapped the handle of his gavel on the bench.
“Your honor.”
“You aren’t about to argue with me and upset me, are you, Mr. LeCour,” the judge said softly, and with a smile.
“I wouldn’t think of it, Judge.”
“Good. It’s the opinion of the bench that the state has presented evidence sufficient to hold the defendant over for arraignment a week from today, same time, same station. Who’s putting up bail?”
“The family, your honor,” Smith replied.
“Well, work it out with the court.” He leaned forward and glared at Jeremiah. “You, young man, have two of the best lawyers in this city, and you’re being allowed to spend your time with them and your family while you prepare yourself to face these charges. I suggest you wipe that snarl off your face and count your blessings. Dismissed.”
Smith and Becker watched their client be led from the courtroom. LeCour came to where they stood. “You got off with pocket change,” he said.
“Seems fair to me,” Becker said.
“Where’s his family, the distinguished senator and his lovely ex-wife?”
“Attending to affairs of state,” Smith said. “Why do I have the feeling that you don’t have much of a case, and that the judge thinks so, too?”
“Enough to arraign him,” LeCour said. “That is, if he shows up next week.”
“Oh, he will,” said Becker, gathering up papers.
I hope so, Smith thought.
LeCour took a few steps, turned, and said, “If you want to discuss pleading this out, give me a call.”
“Thanks,” said Smith, “but don’t take it personally if you don’t hear from us.”
“I would have felt better if one of his parents were here,” Becker said as he and Smith left the courthouse.
“I would have, too, although it really didn’t matter. I spoke with the senator last night and told him we were hoping for a reasonable bail. He said he’d come up with whatever was needed. I’ll call and let him know what it’s going to cost him, unless he wants to use a bail bondsman, which I doubt. He doesn’t need to. Frankly, I’m just as happy having Jeremiah cool his heels a while longer. Maybe it’ll get through to him that being behind bars isn’t fun.”
“That would be nice. Let me know when the senator wants to post bail, and I’ll handle it. Where are you off to?”
“School. I need to talk with Dean Mackin about missing classes.”
“How do you want to divvy up the depositions? You work around your other commitments. I’ll handle most of them.”
“No, Yale, I’ll make myself available. Now that I’m in, I want to be all the way in. Hello to Sue, and thanks again for the swim and barbecue. Refreshed us both.”
He went to his office and made calls, including to Annabel.
“How did it go?” she asked.
“Fine. Two hundred thousand bail. A bargain.”
“I’d say so. You caught me going out the door.”
“Oh, that’s right. The luncheon. I tried Clarise, but no answer. She’s probably already on her way. I’ve got to call Senator Lerner and inform him of the bail arrangement.”
“Neither of them was there this morning?”
“No, which is no longer a surprise. Plenty of press, though. Maybe it’s just as well they stay away.”
“Jeremiah will be staying with his father?”
“Or mother. The judge didn’t stipulate, but it’s got to be one or the other. Going back to that apartment he shares with some roommate won’t do. He’ll have to be available at all times to the police, to say nothing of for Yale and me. At any rate, enjoy the luncheon. Tell Clarise what’s transpired. Should