“The Johnny Martino case,” Gorelick said.
“Yes,” Hammer said.
“Also known as Magic the Man.”
“Thirty-three class D felony charges of robbery with a dangerous weapon,” Gorelick went on.
“He’ll plea bar gain. We’ll sock him with maybe ten, get him to agree to consolidate sentencing under five counts. Since he’s a prior record level two, he’s going to be out of circulation for so long, he’ll turn into a skeleton.”
“When do you anticipate setting the court date. Nancy?” Hammer wasn’t impressed, and frankly, believed not a word. This guy would get the minimum. They all did.
“I’ve already set it.” The DA picked up her big black date book and flipped pages.
“Set for superior court, July twenty-second.”
Hammer wanted to kill her.
“I’m on vacation that entire week. In Paris. It’s been set for a year. I’m taking my sons and their families, and I’ve already bought the tickets, Nancy. That’s why I came by this morning. Both of us are busy professionals with crushing schedules and responsibilities. You know perfectly well. Nancy, that police chiefs normally do not make arrests and end up in court. When was the last time that you heard of such a thing? I’m asking you to work with me on this.”
Gorelick didn’t care who anybody was, especially not this chief of police, with her personal wealth and fame. All in Gorelick’s courtroom had jobs waiting for them, busy schedules, and demands on their time, except the defendants, of course, who generally had nothing in their Day Timers but empty spaces to fill with trouble. Gorelick had never been especially fond of Judy Hammer. The chief was arrogant, competitive, power drunk, non collaborative and vain. She spent considerable money on designer suits and pearls and accessories, and, in a word, did not suffer from the same problems, such as body fat, adult acne, estrogen volatilities, and rejection, as others.
“I was not elected to work with you or anyone,” Gorelick stated.
“It is my job to set trial dates that please the court, and that is what I have done. Vacation plans are not the business of the court, and you will have to make whatever adjustments are necessary. As will everyone else involved.”
Hammer noted that Gorelick was over buffed as usual. She had a penchant for short skirts, bright colors, and open necklines that were an invitation whenever she bent over to look at documents, dockets, or cases. She wore too much makeup, especially mascara. There were rumors about her many affairs, but Hammer had chosen to view these as unfounded until this moment. This was the woman the cops called the DA Whorelick. She was lower than dirt, and a slut. Office psychology dictated that Hammer should get up from her chair.
She did, and leaned against the desk, helping herself to her opponent’s domain, breathing all the air she wished, picking up a crystal paperweight of US Bank and fiddling with it. Hammer was very comfortable and in charge. She spoke rationally, softly, and sincerely.
“The press, of course, has been calling me about yesterday’s incident,” Hammer confessed, and her fooling with the paperweight was clearly bothering Gorelick.
“National press. The Washington Post, Time, Newsweek, CBS This Morning, Jay Leno, New York Times, Don Imus, Howard Stern.” She began to pace, tapping the US Bank in her palm, as if it were a slapjack.
“They’ll want to cover the trial, I’m sure. It’s a big story, I guess.” She paced and tapped.
“I suppose when you stop to think about it, when has something like this ever happened? That reminds me.” She laughed.
“Some studio and a couple producers from Hollywood called, too. Can you imagine?”
Gorelick wasn’t feeling well.
“It is an unusual situation,” she had to agree.
“An amazing example of community policing, Nancy. People doing the right thing.” Hammer paced and gestured with the little crystal building wearing a crown.
“Your treating a chief and deputy chief just like anyone else, making no special considerations.” She nodded.
“I
think all those reporters are going to like that. Don’t you? ”
Gorelick would be ruined, would look like the dickhead she was.
Someone would run against her next fall. She’d have to go work in a law firm as a lowly junior attorney to a bunch of overbearing partners who wouldn’t want her to join their exclusive ranks.