The Color of Law_ A Novel - Mark Gimenez [68]
“Her life’s on the line and she can’t stop shooting up? My wife’s pissed off at me, Dan’s pissed off at me, I’m taking all this grief so she can get high? All this for a goddamned junkie?”
“Scotty, if you lived her life, you’d probably shoot up, too. You got the best of life, she got the worst. But she can still be happy when she’s high. And now the stuff on the street is so cheap, she can spend every waking minute high—until she dies.” Bobby sighed. “And she’ll die from the stuff one day.”
“We’re trying to save her from the death penalty so she can kill herself with heroin?”
“Yep, that’s exactly what we’re doing. I can see it in her eyes, Scotty, she’s a junkie for life. And hers will be a short life.” He stared at his shoes a long moment, then stood straight. “But not as short as Ray Burns wants it to be. So, you catching some heat over this?”
Scott nodded. “Big-time. Why not a polygraph?”
“My junkie clients always think they can beat the machine. Course, when they’re high, they think they’re fucking Einsteins. But they always fail. She takes it and fails, she’s history.”
“Polygraphs aren’t admissible. Burns can’t use it against her.”
“Not in court. But Ray’ll leak it to the press, it’ll be front-page news. Every juror will know she failed.”
“Maybe she’ll plead out if she fails.”
“Look, Scotty, I know this is a tough decision for you and I know you don’t want to make it, but hey, man, that’s why you make the big bucks. What do you want to do?”
“McCall’s pressuring Dan Ford to get me to drop this defense, not to drag his dead son through the mud.”
“Clark lived in the mud, Scotty. He was a bad boy.” Bobby checked his shoes again. “So Dan told you to drop it?”
“He advised me to. He wants to be the president’s lawyer. Good for business.”
“But bad for Shawanda. Is your job on the line?”
“My job? No! Dan wouldn’t fire me. I’m like his son.”
Bobby nodded. “Three, four years ago, I represented a father who killed his son over a football game.” He chuckled softly. “Look, Scotty, I’m not a big-time lawyer like you, I don’t represent important people, I don’t make much money,…but I’ve never screwed a client. I’ve always done my best for every client, even if my best isn’t much. Clark beating her up, raping Hannah Steele, maybe more women—Scotty, that evidence might be the difference between life and death for her.”
Bobby ran his hands over his head of thin hair.
“All my clients are just like her, poor, black or brown, living in an alternate world where daddies are dealing and mamas are hooking. Difference is, all my clients are guilty, no bones about it. But she may really be innocent—or at least have acted in self-defense. We drop Clark’s past, we’re sentencing her to death by lethal injection—you and me, Scotty, not a jury. We’ll be responsible, same as if we push that needle into her arm.” He shook his head. “Scotty, I need the money you’re paying me for working this case, but I can’t live with that.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you drop this evidence, I’m out.”
“Bobby—”
“Scotty, I followed you every step of the way—high school, college, law school. Back then, I would’ve followed you anywhere. I was weak and you were strong and you protected me. But you ain’t Batman no more, and I ain’t Robin. I can’t follow you on this. It just ain’t right. She may not be a white society girl…she may be a junkie hooker, living in the projects, but her life means something, too. Maybe not to you, maybe not even to herself…but to me. And to her little girl. She needs someone strong to protect her…someone like you used to be.” He paused. “When your secretary called that day, said you wanted to have lunch, man, I about cried. All those years, I really missed you.” His eyes were watering. “And being around you again now, it’s been great…just to breathe your air again.” He breathed in and out. “But, Scotty, you do this to that girl, I don’t want to see you no more.”
“Come on, Bobby.”
“Scotty, the court appointed you. You’re her right