Murder at Ford's Theatre - Margaret Truman [63]
Smith shrugged. “I’m really not that friendly with Lerner. Clarise is our friend. But I’ve met him on a number of occasions, and shared a dinner table with him a couple of times. He’s always had an attractive woman at his side. And I read the papers.”
“Any inside knowledge about the rumors that the senator had a fling with the murder victim?”
A shake of the head.
“Will your friend, Ms. Emerson, end up heading the NEA?”
“I suspect so, unless some bombshell explodes in her face.”
“Like her son being charged with the murder of a young woman rumored to have been sexually involved with his father? Juicy!”
“And unlikely. Let’s go. I have a feeling Judge Millander doesn’t abide lateness.”
Magistrate Judge Jerrold Millander, now wearing a black robe, sat at the bench of a first-floor hearing room. U.S. Attorney LeCour occupied one of two tables. With him were Detectives Rick Klayman and Mo Johnson. Seated at the second table was U.S. Senator Bruce Lerner and a young female aide. They stood as Smith and Becker approached.
“Good to see you again, Mac Smith,” said Lerner, shaking hands and introducing the aide. Smith did the same for Yale Becker. With everyone seated, they pulled their chairs close together and spoke in whispers.
“We’d like you to take personal responsibility for Jeremiah,” Smith said. “If he can be released to your custody, we’re sure the judge will waive bail.”
Lerner’s expression said either that he wasn’t sure that was possible, or that he wasn’t accepting of the suggestion.
“A problem?” Becker asked.
Lerner looked around before confiding, “Jeremiah and I have been estranged for a long time, gentlemen. I’m not sure he would want to live with me, no matter for how short a duration.”
“Let’s ask him,” Smith said as they all turned to see Jeremiah being led into the room by a court bailiff and a U.S. Marshall. Jeremiah saw his father seated at the table and frowned, as if to say, “What are you doing here?”
He was brought to the table and directed into the only unoccupied chair, next to Lerner.
“Hello, son,” the senator said.
Jeremiah ignored him.
Smith, who sat on Jeremiah’s other side, leaned close and said, “We’re going to ask that you be released to your father instead of asking for bail. That means you’re to live with him until the next phase comes up, a probable cause hearing in ten days or so.”
“I don’t want to live with him,” Jeremiah said defiantly.
“I suggest you rethink that, Jeremiah,” Smith said. “You’re in serious trouble here. Don’t make it harder on yourself.”
“I’ll live with my mother.”
“She isn’t here to warrant to the judge that it’s all right with her, and that you’ll abide by the court’s order. Your father is here. Take advantage of it.”
The court clerk’s reading of the charges against Jeremiah Lerner, and his citing of the case number, interrupted them. Judge Millander looked down from the bench and told LeCour to proceed. The young U.S. Attorney spelled out the circumstances of the defendant’s arrest and incarceration, and indicated the arresting officers were present. Klayman looked over at Smith and nodded a greeting, which Smith ignored. The two detectives were sworn in separately, and under questioning by LeCour explained what had happened at the Millennium Arts Center the previous evening. Their collective testimony took only fifteen minutes. Smith and Becker had decided not to ask the detectives why they’d gone in search of Jeremiah. Raising the question of how he could have resisted arrest when he wasn’t being arrested was better saved for the trial, if that became reality, or better yet, to be used as ammunition in attempting to persuade the U.S. Attorney’s office to drop that charge. Becker asked a few routine questions for the record, and sat down. Millander announced that a probable cause hearing would be scheduled within the ten days mandated by law. Becker stood and requested an extension: “I’ve just been brought in on the case, Judge, and will need more time to prepare.”
“Granted. Talk to my clerk about a date.