Bronx Justice by Joseph Teller Read Free Book Online

farm stand and bought the biggest pumpkin they could find. It took up the entire backseat of the Volkswagen, weighed about a ton, required all three of them to lug it into the house and cost Jaywalker half the retainer that Marlin Kingston had pressed into his hand a month earlier.
    Not that Marlin hadn’t been as good as his word, following up with small sums every time they met at court or at Jaywalker’s office. And to a lawyer accustomed to getting most of his income in the form of small checks, smaller money orders, bail receipts conditioned upon a defendant’s return to court or hand-scribbled IOUs, cash was always a delight, even as it had a way of burning a hole in Jaywalker’s pocket. But no matter. As his daughter assured him, it was a great pumpkin, Charlie Brown.
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    The 18th came, and with it the first court appearance before the man who would become Darren Kingston’s trial judge.
    Even though it’s a jury that renders the verdict, the judge can affect that verdict in many ways—some major, others minor; some obvious, others subtle; some entirely legitimate, others highly inappropriate. The judge decides if the defendant remains out on bail or is returned to custody once the trial commences. He rules on motions, acting as both judge and jury at pretrial hearings. He decides which items of evidence will be allowed in and which will be kept from the jury. A judge can shape the outcome of a trial by sustaining or overruling a single objection, or by the way in which he treats one lawyer or the other in front of the jurors, or by something so seemingly insignificant as the inflection of his voice when he reaches a key word or phrase during his charge to the jury. So it not only matters who the trial judge is, it matters a lot. Any lawyer who doubts that ought to think seriously about another career.
    Max Davidoff was in his mid-to late-sixties, but his face was deeply lined and his hair nearly white. To Jaywalker, he looked like what a judge was supposed to look like. Prior to being appointed and then elected to the bench, he’d been the District Attorney of Bronx County. In other words, Jacob Pope’s boss. Jaywalker did his best to assure the Kingstons that that fact alone was no causefor either disqualification or concern. Indeed, he told them, it was former defense lawyers who often turned into the toughest judges, having learned over the years that defendants weren’t always to be believed. Former prosecutors, who had spent those same years realizing that cops weren’t, either, occasionally became the defense’s best friends.
    Wherever the truth really lay, the fact was that Max Davidoff had proved himself a pretty good judge. The book on him—and Jaywalker sought out a handful of Bronx Legal Aid lawyers to compile an oral scouting report—was that Davidoff ran a reasonably relaxed courtroom, tended to be fair to both sides, was reasonably knowledgeable when it came to matters of law, and treated attorneys with respect and defendants with compassion. Above all, he had a reputation for letting a lawyer try his case his way. Jaywalker could have asked for more, but not much more.
    The case was called. Jacob Pope rose and explained that there were motions pending back in Part 12. Jaywalker suggested a date two weeks off. The case was adjourned.
    Outside the courtroom, Darren’s family didn’t seem to know whether to be amused or irritated that they’d missed a day’s work and traipsed halfway across the Bronx just to witness the sixty-second performance they’d been treated to. Jaywalker was in the midst of explaining how over time the family’s presence could influence the judge’s attitude toward Darren when Pope came out of the courtroom and got his attention.
    â€œCould I talk to you a minute, Mr. Jaywalker?”
    â€œSure. But it’s not Mr. Jaywalker, it’s Jay.”
    â€œJay.”
    He excused himself to the