“I can’t go to prison,” was all Jeffrey could say. He shook his head. “I still can’t believe this is happening.”
“Randolph will appeal,” Carol said. “It’s not over yet.”
“Appeal,” Jeffrey said with disgust. “It will be just more of the same.
I’ve lost two cases…”
“It’s not the same,” Carol said. “Only experienced judges will be looking at the evidence, not an emotional jury.”
Randolph came back from the phone to say that Michael Mosconi, the bail bondsman, was on his way over. Randolph and Carol began an animated conversation about the process of appeal. Jeffrey put his elbows on the table and despite the handcuffs, rested his head in his hands. He was thinking about his medical license, wondering what would happen to it as a consequence of the verdict. Unfortunately, he had a pretty good idea.
Michael Mosconi arrived in short order with his briefcase. His office was only a few steps from the courthouse, in the curved building facing
Government Center. He was not a big man, but his head was large and almost bald. What hair he had grew in a dark crescent that stretched around the back of his head from ear to ear. Some of the strands of dark hair were combed directly over the bald dome in a vain effort to provide a minimum of cover. He had intensely dark eyes that appeared to be all pupil. He was oddly dressed in a dark blue polyester suit with a black shirt and a white tie.
Mosconi set his briefcase on the table, snapped open the latches, and removed a file folder labeled with Jeffrey’s name.
“Okay,” he said, taking a seat at the table and opening the file. “How much is the increase in bail?” He had already put up the initial $50,000 bail, having collected $5,000 for his services.
“It’s $450,000,” Randolph said.
Mosconi whistled through his teeth, pausing in setting out the
papers. “Who do they think they got here, Public Enemy Number One?” Neither
Randolph nor Jeffrey felt they owed him the courtesy of an answer.
Mosconi’s attention returned to his paperwork, unconcerned by his client’s lack of response. He’d already done an O&E, an ownership and encumbrance check, on Jeffrey and Carol’s Marblehead house when bail had initially been set, securing the first bond with a lien of $50,000 on the home. The house had a documented value of $800,000 with an existing mortgage ofjust over
$300,000. “Well, isn’t that convenient,” he said. “I’ll be able to post bond with an additional $450,000 lien against your little castle in
Marblehead. How’s that?”
Jeffrey nodded. Carol shrugged.
As Mosconi began filling out the papers, he said: “Then, of course, there is the little matter of my fee, which in this case will be $45,000. I’ll want that in cash.”
“I don’t have that kind of cash,” Jeffrey said.
Mosconi held up from completing the form.
“But I’m sure you can raise it,” Randolph put in.
“I suppose,” Jeffrey said. Depression was setting in.
“Either yes or no,” Mosconi said. “I don’t do this stuff for recreation.”
“I’ll raise it,” Jeffrey said.
“Normally I require the fee up front,” Mosconi added. “But since you are a doctor…” He laughed. “Let’s just say I’m accustomed to dealing with a slightly different clientele. But for you, I’ll take a check. But only if you can raise the money and have it in your account by, let’s say, this time tomorrow. Is that possible?”
“I don’t know,” Jeffrey said.
“If you don’t know, then you’ll have to stay in custody until you got the money,” Mosconi said.
“I’ll raise it,” Jeffrey said. The thought of even a few nights in jail was intolerable.
“Do you have a check with you?” Mos6oni asked.
Jeffrey nodded.
Mosconi went back to filling out the form. “I hope you understand, Doctor,” he said, “that I’m doing you a big favor by taking a check. My company would take a dim view, so let’s just keep it between us. Now you’ll have that money in your account in twenty-four hours?”
“I’ll take care of it this afternoon,” Jeffrey said.
“Wonderful,” Mosconi said. He pushed the papers toward
Jeffrey. “Now if you two will sign this note, I’ll run down to the clerk’s office and settle the score.”