“No, well, that’s a, ah, benefit, but what I told you about Judge Larson is true. I can’t get out of it.”
“When’s he being railroaded, I mean, arraigned?” Marc asked.
“One o’clock,” Mickey said, “Gwen Bryant is handling it for DeWitt’s office. Give her a call. I’ll get your retainer.”
“Gwen, it’s Marc Kadella,” Marc told Gwen Bryant.
“Hey, Marc,” she replied.
“I understand you’re handling this Billy Stover case,” Marc said.
“Yeah, why…oh, wait. Mickey dropped this in your lap. What do you need?”
“Mickey has a conflict in Minneapolis. I understand there are a couple heavy hitters from the Big Apple in town.”
“Yes, have you spoken to them?”
“No, not yet.”
“I’ll see you at one. That’s the arraignment. Judge Weaver, courtroom fourteen ten. I’ll see you then.”
Marc arrived at the correct courtroom at 12:55. As he walked up the center aisle, he noticed a dozen or so media types in the gallery. Some he knew were locals, others looked to be network people. What he did not see were any lawyers.
Marc checked in with the clerk who pointed him toward the jury room. Before he got there, the three lawyers came into the courtroom, including Gwen Bryant.
After Marc introduced himself to the New York lawyers––they had spoken on the phone––they went back into the jury room. At the same time, a deputy brought Billy Stover into the courtroom.
Before anything else, Marc had the retainer signed by both lawyers. Once that was done, he folded the check and put it in his pocket.
“We’ve reached a plea agreement,” Gwen told him.
“Does our client know this?” Marc asked.
“We were about to tell him,” Peter Simpson, the younger of the two lawyers said.
“To be clear, we will be lead counsel on this case,” the older one, Nelson McGovern condescendingly told Marc.
Marc looked at the older man, obviously a senior partner, right in the eye and said, “Actually, you’re not. You’re here as a courtesy. I’m the only one licensed in this state.”
“I see, well, I, ah, suppose…” McGovern started to stammer.
“What’s the deal?” Marc asked Gwen.
“Twenty-four months. Five years unsupervised probation at the end of which it drops to a misdemeanor. There’s more,” Gwen said when Marc started to speak.
“His mother is ill. She lives in Colorado. He’ll be allowed to serve it in a Colorado prison because of her illness. It’s a good deal Marc.”
Too good, if he’s guilty, Marc thought.
“I need to talk to him, alone,” Marc said. “I’ll tell him it’s so I’m satisfied he understands everything.”
Because of the media presence in the courtroom, and the fact it was the only case on the docket, Judge Weaver took the plea in chambers. Afterward, while Billy was led away, the lawyers went out through the courtroom.
Marc gently grabbed Gwen’s arm and whispered to her that he wanted to talk. She looked around, saw the New York guysgesturing to the media. With Marc following, they went back to the jury room.
Gwen placed her briefcase on the table, then sat down on the tabletop next to it. She looked at Marc, shook her head and asked, “Yeah?”
“What the hell just happened here?” Marc asked. “Why do I feel the need to go home and shower?”