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“In my opinion, the magistrates erred in granting bail in eleven cases, on various grounds, such as the individual has in the past violated the bail privilege; and/or in my judgment poses a threat to society; and/or based on past criminal behavior with which I am personally familiar is probably continuing to engage in criminal activity.”
“Just eleven of them, Your Honor?”
She ignored the question. “If presented by an appeal to override the magistrates’ decision to grant bail by competent authority—such as the district attorney—I would be inclined to override.”
“Just half of them, Your Honor?” Coughlin pursued.
“How clever of you, Dennis. Despite allegations to the contrary, you can divide by two, can’t you? Don’t push your luck. Just pick your eleven.”
“I’ll have the appeals in your chambers by ten o’clock,” Callis said. “I presume we may act now on Your Honor’s verbal authority?”
“You may not,” Judge McCandless said. “You put a duly executed appeal in my hands, and I’ll sign it. You don’t move until then.”
“That’ll take hours!” Coughlin thought aloud.
“Unless you type them yourself,” the judge said. “I have a typewriter. Can anybody type?”
“I can, Your Honor,” Weisbach said.
“And I wouldn’t be at all surprised if Tony remembers what to say in an appeal,” she said. “May I suggest you pick your eleven and get started?”
Detective Kenneth J. Summers, a portly forty-year-old, looked around the Homicide Unit and saw there was no one else immediately available to answer the telephone, muttered an obscenity, and punched the flashing button on his telephone.
“Homicide, Detective Summers.”
“This is Chief Coughlin,” his caller announced. “Who’s the lieutenant?”
“Lieutenant Natali, sir.”
“No one answers that phone.”
“The lieutenant must have stepped out for a minute, sir.”
What the hell does Coughlin want this time of the morning?
“Who’s the sergeant?”
“Sergeant Hobbs, sir.”
“Get him on the horn, will you?”
“He’s with Lieutenant Natali, sir. Is there anything I can do?”
“What I’m trying to do, Summers, is avoid having to wake up Captain Quaire. Or, for that matter, Chief Lowenstein.”
Captain Henry C. Quaire was the commanding officer of the Homicide Unit. Chief Inspector Matt Lowenstein was commanding officer of the detective division, which includes the Homicide Unit.
“What do you need, Chief?”
“I need—specifically, Sergeant Washington needs—the use of your interview room.”
“I’m sure there’ll be no problem about that, sir.”
“I don’t want anybody asking questions about it, or talking about it.”
“No problem there, either, sir. When does Jason want to use it?”
“Right now. As soon as he can get there.”
