The Client (Page 63)

"Any more witnesses, Mr. Fink?" Harry asked.

"No sir. We do, however, Your Honor, feel that due to the unusual circumstances 01 tm:] t,d"]~, v,.^  –  should take the stand and testify." Harry ripped off the reading glasses again and leaned toward Fink. If he could have reached him, he might have gone for his neck.

"You what!" "We, uh, feel that-" "Mr. Fink, have you studied the juvenile laws for this jurisdiction?" "I have." "Great. Will you please tell us, sir, under which code section the petitioner has the right to force the child to testify?" "I was merely stating our request." "That’s great. Under which code section is the petitioner allowed to make such a request?" Fink dropped his head a few inches and found something on his legal pad to examine.

"This is not a kangaroo court, Mr. Fink. We do not create new rules as we go. The child cannot be forced to testify, same as any other criminal or Juvenile Court proceeding. Surely you understand this." Fink studied the legal pad with great intensity.

"Ten –  minute recess!" his honor barked. "Everyone out of the courtroom except Ms. Love. Bailiff, take Mark to a witness room." Harry was standing as he growled these instructions.

Fink, afraid to stand but nonetheless trying, hesitated for a split second too long, and this upset the judge. "Out of here, Mr. Fink," he said rudely, pointing to the door.

Fink and Ord stumbled over each other as they clawed for the door. The court reporter and clerk followed them. The bailiff escorted Mark away, and when he closed the door Harry unzipped his robe and threw it on a table. He took his lunch and set it on the table before Reggie.

"Shall we dine?" he said, tearing the sandwich in two and placing half of it on a napkin for her. He slid the onion rings next to her legal pad. She took one and nibbled around the edges.

"Are you going to allow the kid to testify?" he asked -with a mouth full of roast beef.

"I don’t know, Harry. What do you think?" "I think Fink’s a dumbass, that’s what I think." Reggie took a small bite of the sandwich and wiped her mouth.

"If you put him on," Harry said, crunching, "Fink’11 ask him some very pointed questions about what happened in the car with Clifford." "I know. That’s what worries me." "How will the kid answer the questions?" "I honestly don’t know. I’ve advised him fully. We’ve talked about it at length. And I have no idea what he’ll do." Harry took a deep breath, and realized the iced tea was still on the bench. He took two paper cups from Fink’s table and poured them full of tea.

"It’s obvious, Reggie, that he knows something. Why did he tell so many lies?" "He’s a kid, Harry. He was scared to death. He heard more than he should have. He saw Clifford blow his brains out. It scared him to death. Look at his poor little brother. It was a terrible thing to witness, and I think Mark initially thought he might get in trouble. So he lied." "I don’t really blame him," Harry said, taking an onion ring. Reggie bit into a pickle.

"What are you thinking?" she asked.

He wiped his mouth, and thought about this for a long time. This child was now his, one of Harry’s Kids, and each decision from now on would be based on what was best for Mark Sway.

"If I can assume the child knows something very relevant to the investigation in New Orleans, then several things might happen. First, if you put him on the stand and he gives the information Fink wants, then this matter is closed as far as my jurisdiction is concerned. The kid walks out of here, but he’s in great danger. Second, if you put him on the stand, and he refuses to answer Fink’s questions, then I will be forced to make him answer. If he refuses, he’ll be in contempt. He cannot remain silent if he has crucial information. Either way,, if this hearing is concluded here today without satisfactory answers by the child, I strongly suspect Mr. Foltrigg will move quickly. He’ll get a grand jury subpoena for Mark, and away you go to New Orleans. If he refuses to talk to the grand jury, he’ll certainly be held in contempt by the federal judge, and I suspect he’ll be incarcerated." Reggie nodded. She was in complete agreement. "So what do we do, Harry?" "If the kid goes to New Orleans, I lose control of him. I’d rather keep him here. If I were you, I’d put him on the stand and advise him not to answer the crucial questions. At least not for now. He can always do it later. He can do it tomorrow, or the next day. I’d advise him to withstand the pressure from the judge, and keep his mouth shut, at least for now. He’ll go back to our Juvenile Detention Center, which is probably much safer than anything in New Orleans. By doing this, you protect the child from the New Orleans thugs, who scare even me, until the feds can arrange something better. And you buy yourself some time to see what Mr. Foltrigg will do in New Orleans." "You think he’s in great danger?" "Yes, and even if I didn’t, I wouldn’t take chances. If he spills his guts now, he could get hurt. I’m not inclined to release him today, under any circumstances." "What if Mark refuses to talk, and Foltrigg presents him with a grand jury subpoena?" "I won’t allow him to go." Reggie’s appetite was gone. She sipped her tea from the paper cup and closed her eyes. "This is so unfair to this boy, Harry. He deserves more from the system." "I agree. I’m open to suggestions." "What if I don’t put him on the stand?" "I’m not going to release him, Reggie. At least not today. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe the next day. This is happening awfully fast, and I suggest we take the safest route and see what happens in New Orleans." "You didn’t answer my question. What if I don’t put him on the stand?" "Well, based on the proof I’ve heard, I’ll have no choice but to find him to be a delinquent, and I’ll send him back to Doreen. Of course, I could reverse myself tomorrow. Or the next day." "He’s not a delinquent." "Maybe not. But if he knows something, and he refuses to tell, then he’s obstructing justice." There was a long pause. "How much does he know, Reggie? If you’ll tell me, I’ll be in a better position to help him." "I can’t tell you, Harry. It’s privileged." "Of course it is," he said with a smile. DUL u. 3 rather obvious he knows plenty." "Yes, I guess it is." He leaned forward, and touched her arm. "Listen to me, dear. Our little pal is in a world of trouble. So let’s get him out of it. I say we take it one day at a time, keep him in a safe place where we call the shots, and in the meantime start talking to the feds about their witness protection program. If that falls into place for the kid and his family, then he can tell these awful secrets and be protected." "I’ll talk to him."

Chapter 25

UNDER THE STERN SUPERVISION OF THE BAILIFF, A MAN named Grinder, they were reassembled and directed to their positions. Fink glanced about fearfully, uncertain whether to sit, stand, speak, or crawl under the table. Ord picked at the cuticle on a thumb. Baxter McLe-more had moved his chair as far away from Fink as possible.

His honor sipped the remains of the tea and waited until all was still. "On the record," he said in the general direction of the court reporter. "Ms. Love, I need to know if young Mark will testify." She was sitting a foot behind her client, and she looked at the side of his face. His eyes were still wet.

"Under the circumstances," she said, "he doesn’t have much of a choice." "Is that a yes or a no?" "I will allow him to testify," she said, "but I will not tolerate abusive questioning by Mr. Fink." -"Your Honor, please," Fink said.