“Judge Stanley Kilroy is an asshole,” Frank Vass said. He stood at the defense table in an emptied courtroom, talking in a hushed voice to his assistant, Sue Bobbins, as he angrily stuffed papers into his briefcase. The judge had long since left for his chambers, but Vass still glowered at the empty bench.
“You say that every time he’s assigned to one of your cases,” Sue reminded him.
“That’s because he’s an asshole every time he’s been assigned to one of my cases.”
Sue harrumphed, shook her head, and finished collecting the remaining papers from the table, placing them atop a computer tablet in Vass’ briefcase.
“Don’t give me that look, Sue. You know I’m telling the truth. That man has it in for defense attorneys.”
“Frank, Frank, tough break, eh,” the voice crawled into the room from behind him. It belonged to Adam Banks, a snarky little prosecutor from the Attorney General’s office. Banks was five feet five inches of pompous bullshit.
“Put a sock in it, Adam,” Frank said without bothering to turn around.
“You sound upset,” Adam teased.
Frank turned around, facing him. “No, I’m not upset. I’m just surprised that you and the honorable Judge Kilroy have such a total disregard for fairness.”
“Really now,” Banks said. “You feel that allowing in knowledge of one’s past run-ins with the law is somehow unfair.”
“What I feel is that knowledge of what may or may not have been embezzlement committed over twenty years ago by my client when he was a nineteen year old impressionable college student will prejudice a jury hearing his fraud case today. But I see the State will stoop to anything to try to prove its case.”
“Don’t give me that nonsense,” Banks said, the cheeriness now out of his voice. “The fact that Jamison Pittman stole money from his employer twenty years ago is very relevant to the charges of bribery and fraud that he faces today. I think it’s very beneficial for the jury to know that the conduct leading Mr. Pittman to misappropriate DOT funds, while accepting bogus bids for the state’s road projects, had been nurtured during the whole of his adult life.
Vass responded sharply, “Adam, you know full well that twenty years ago Jamie accepted a plea deal to avoid any embarrassment to him and his family. His father had been battling cancer for god’s sake. A trial would have been too much for the family.”
“The fact remains, missing money wound up in your client’s possession. And he copped to taking it.”
“Adam, you know…”
“Gentlemen,” Sue said, cutting him off. “The judge has already ruled on the issue.” To Frank she said, “You have a client meeting at 4:30.”
“Smart lady,” Banks said and winked at her. “How about coming to work for the other side?”
“Thanks, but I’m perfectly content working for this side,” Sue said.
“Well, if you ever change your mind...” He looked at Frank. “I know you were hoping to get Mannielo on this one. He always seems sympathetic to the defense’s plight.”
“If by sympathetic, you mean fair. Then yes, I could have used him on this trial.”
“I bet,” Banks said, and then turned to leave.
“Asshole,” Vass muttered.
Vass and Sue left the courtroom. She headed toward the elevators while he decided to take the stairs.
After reaching the first floor landing, he thought he heard a familiar voice. He opened the stairwell door just in time to see Ben Lovison and a few other people board an elevator. He called out to him, “Ben.”
Ben turned around and looked curiously at him for a moment, before the look of delayed recognition crept across his face just as the elevator door closed.