Murder at Ford's Theatre - Margaret Truman [122]
“I can see a battle of the experts looming large in your future,” she said lightly.
“Guaranteed to confuse even the best of juries. Experts usually cancel one another out, and the jury ends up using what common sense it brings into the deliberations. I also want to set up a meeting with LeCour, the U.S. Attorney.”
“To discuss a plea possibility?”
“To hear what he has to say. You can always tell how strong a case the other side has by how lenient they’re willing to be in pleading out a case.”
“You’ve gotten dozens of defendants off who had much tougher cases against them.”
“I wish you wouldn’t put it that way. I prefer thinking that justice prevailed despite strong cases on the other side.” He smiled and looked at his watch. “I’d better walk Rufus and be on my way. I envy you a quiet day with your friends.”
“My friends?”
“Tlatilco and Teotihuacán and—”
She laughed and placed her hand on his. “The humor is in the mispronunciation,” she said playfully. “But you are right. I will enjoy spending the day with my pre-Columbian friends. I do intend to try to catch up with Clarise. The fallout from the announcement has got to make for an overfull day for her.”
“Her decision pleases me,” he said, standing and carrying his dishes into the kitchen, with Annabel close behind. “I think it might be good for Jeremiah—provided, of course, he doesn’t end up behind bars, and provided, of course, she means what she says about taking him with her back to California. It could be the first time she actually becomes a mother to him.”
Mac stopped at the H. Carl Moultrie D.C. courthouse and handed his motion to Judge Walter Jordan’s law clerk before heading for the downtown law offices of Yale Becker, on K Street.
“Where do we stand with bail?” Smith asked after Becker’s secretary had served them coffee.
“Senator Lerner had the funds wired to the court overnight. I’m picking up Jeremiah.”
“You? Not the senator?”
“He’s on some junket.” Becker didn’t attempt to disguise his scorn. “You delivered the motion about the mother taking custody?”
“Yeah. The judge has it. Just have to wait for a decision.”
Smith tasted his coffee. It wasn’t as good as what he made at home—he was an inveterate coffee snob—but it would do. He asked, “Have you worked out your fee schedule with the senator?”
“Our fee schedule, Mac. No, but it’s on my list.”
They spent the next twenty minutes going over details of the case and determining what pretrial motions to develop. In papers filed with the court, LeCour indicated he wanted to introduce prior acts of violent behavior by the defendant, which Smith and Becker would challenge on the basis of its prejudicial impact outweighing any probative value. Asking for a change of venue based upon the intense media coverage was being debated when Becker’s secretary interrupted: “Judge Jordan’s clerk for you,” she said. Becker took the call.
“The judge has granted your motion, Mac, to allow Jeremiah to reside with his mother,” Becker said after hanging up. “But there’s a caveat. Senator Lerner has to sign off on it.”
Smith shook his head. “The judge doesn’t want to cross a U.S. senator, huh? Not that it makes much difference. Lerner doesn’t want the kid living with him. The problem is getting hold of him. Where’s the junket?”
“Mexico City.”
“Can he be reached?”
Becker instructed his secretary to attempt to make contact with Lerner through his Senate office. He said to Mac, “Jeremiah will just have to cool his heels in jail until this gets straightened out.”
“I don’t want to wait until it is to sit down with Jeremiah and see if we can get a straight story from him.”
“I agree,” said Becker.
A call to the jail resulted in an appointment to meet with their client at two that afternoon.
“Changing the subject,