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“He’s already been indicted, Jack. That preempts the accused’s right to a prelim.”
“He’s already been indicted? When?”
“Monday mornin’,” she replied.
“But wasn’t he arrested before the indictment was handed down?”
“They didn’t have much choice since he was found with two dead people.”
“But if he was arrested before an indictment was returned, I still get to ask for a preliminary hearing.”
“George Connelly waived it at the arraignment. And he didn’t request bail.”
“He isn’t representing Mr. Washington any longer. I am.”
“Which apparently makes him smarter than you.”
“Well, I’m gonna find Connelly and chew his ass out.”
“You can’t. He went on vacation. Mexico, so’s I heard.”
“It was malpractice for him to waive the prelim.”
“That would have just pissed Justin Reed off. You’ll need to stay in his good graces, if he’ll even listen to a plea deal. So you’re really filin’ to be his lawyer?” Her deliberate speech made the question seem twice as long as it actually was.
“Otherwise, I’d be wasting your time, wouldn’t I?”
She closed the ledger and looked at him. “Have you talked to anybody about this?” Her tone was now cool and distantly judgmental.
“Who exactly would I talk to?”
“Anybody who would tell you not to do this, which would be pretty much everybody you and I know.”
“Folks are entitled to representation, Sally. Law says that now.”
“Their law. Not ours.”
“Well, actually, it’s just one big law that stretches from sea to shining sea.”
“You won that burglary case just last week. I watched some of it. You were real good in front of the jury. A natural.”
“I’ve currently got four clients to do work for, and the most challenging one involves a bar fight resulting in a simple assault charge.”
“And you think representin’ that animal will help your career?”
“Can you just stamp the form and enter me as his counsel? I’d appreciate it. And I’ll need a copy of the indictment. And do you have a record of his arraignment?”
She looked through the files and made copies of the documents, and she handed them, along with a stamped copy of his appearance filing, to Jack.
“It’s your funeral,” she said.
He shot her a glance. “Figuratively speaking, you mean?”
She didn’t answer him.
He walked out of the courthouse with the documents in his briefcase. It felt as though it now equaled the weight of the world. Jack knew he had crossed the Rubicon with this exchange of official paper. In college he had learned that Julius Caesar had done this very thing by leading a single legion of soldiers into Rome. This broke the law of imperium and subjected Caesar and all his legionnaires to a capital punishment.
Well, Jerome Washington had pierced the rule of imperium perhaps by virtue of being a Black man in a white world. Whatever the truth, alea jacta est, the die was indeed cast, for both of them.
