Page 67 of Hard to Kill

“Can I assume that you’re talking about your sister’s health concerns?” Judge Kane asks.

You don’t know the half of it, sister.

“Yes, Your Honor,” I say with a straight face, “this is very much about cancer, unfortunately.”

“But I have to point out, and with all due respect, Ms. Smith, that you were aware of your sister’s cancer when you chose to resume your defense of Mr. Jacobson, knowing that the trial was scheduled to begin next spring.”

“I did know,” I say. “But my sister’s situation is only one element of my request to the court, if you’ll allow me to continue.Because we’re talking here about the professional as well as the personal.”

From there I throw everything I have at her. It’s another founding principle of lawyering, one they really should teach even at the best law schools:

Throw enough shit at the wall and the law of averages says some of it will eventually stick.

All of it, if you’re lucky.

And even as a kid, my dad told me I had a great arm, and not just for a girl.

I tell Judge Kane that the more intense the media coverage of Rob Jacobson, now that he’s been charged with two consecutive triple homicides, the less chance I have of getting him a fair trial.

“Not because of you, Your Honor. Absolutelynotbecause of you. But all of us in this room know that no matter how much you tell the jury to ignore the coverage, it’s pretty much impossible in the modern world. It’s not like in the old days, when you could tell them to stay away from newspapers. It doesn’t work that way any longer, not when they’re on their phones before they make it to the bathroom.”

I can stand now, as if we’re back in court and I’m in front of her bench, and not her desk. As I do, she actually smiles.

“In one of my favorite old movies,” she says, “I believe it was the Sundance Kid who said he was better when he moved.”

I move to the right of the desk, so both she and Ahearn can see me.

“The bottom line,” I say, “is that the only fair trial my client can get has to begin as soon as possible. I know this is an old legal chestnut, but it applies in this case: Slow justice is no justice at all.”

And sit back down. I look over to see Ahearn smiling at me.

“Note to self,” he says. “If I’m ever accused of killing three people, my first call needs to be to Jane Smith.”

“Very funny.”

“Wasn’t trying to be funny,” he says.

“Is there anythingrelevantyou’d like to add, Mr. Ahearn?” Judge Kane asks.

“No, Your Honor. It’s the state’s belief that everybody’s interests are best served by not waiting until next year.” He smiles at her now. “If necessary, I’d be ready to make my opening statement this afternoon. So, for once, and maybe for the last time, Ms. Smith and I are in agreement and our interests are aligned.”

Judge Kane leans forward and hard-looks at me.

“Just to be clear, Ms. Smith. Is there some other reason, one you haven’t shared here today, why you want to fast-track these proceedings?”

“No, Your Honor.”

Not the first time I’ve lied to a judge.

She says she’ll check the court calendar and maybe get back to me as early as this afternoon. I thank Judge Killer Kane for her time and walk out of her chambers smiling. Not because of the lie I just told her. No. It’s because I know I’ve done my job today. I’ve been a good lawyer.

All I’ve ever wanted to be.

In sickness and in health.

I walk down the hall to an empty ladies’ room and lean against the wall. I don’t cry. I just close my eyes and think about what I’ve done, because I have just hidden behind my sister’s cancer and not told either the judge or the district attorney about my own.

It is another choice I’ve made. Cancer isn’t. The way I live my life is. In the last six months, I’ve been shot at and had my house broken into and been threatened. Jimmy Cunniff could havebeen killed on multiple occasions. My sister told me I should concentrate on this case and let God sort out the rest of it.

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