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Monday morning,I join my colleagues in the courtroom for the arraignment of the eight men arrested in the big drug and arms bust. I sit in the front row behind the prosecution team and the Assistant District Attorney.
I see Maurizio Trevisi, the lawyer for Iron Legal that made me realize who Mateo actually was. He’s at the defendant’s table with the lawyer representing the Russians. I wonder if Mateo will be here today.
I wait as people shuffle into the gallery. DA Nicoletti finally comes in and joins his assistant DA after getting plenty of face time with the press outside. I glance back to see that the courtroom is just about full.
That’s when I catch sight of Mateo, dressed again in a finely tailored suit. He slips into the courtroom, taking a seat in the back. Just before he sits down, his eyes connect with mine and I see a small grin form on his face before I turn back around.
The eight men are shuffled into the courtroom, three guards alongside them. Each man is dressed in prison garb with their hands cuffed in front of them. They take their seats around the defendants’ table. The guards take position, standing behind them.
“All rise!” The bailiff announces. “The Court of Common Pleas is now in session. The Honorable Judge Michael Korbel is presiding.”
Judge Korbel, a short man with a round face and white hair takes his seat.
The judge lists off the charges: Drug Trafficking Conspiracy, Possession with Intent to Deliver, Dealing in Offensive Weapons, and Unlawful Sale of Weapons and Explosions a Violation of the Uniform Firearms Act. He confirms that the defendants have received copies of these charges.
All of these charges are big. But I know our team plans to add more. We’re working on getting enough evidence to add in RICO charges around Organized Crime, but this is more than enough to arraign and hold the men until a trial.
The judge asks each man how they plead. It’s strange to hear the names of Mateo’s men, now that I realize he’s a Barone. Elio Barone, Fiorello Barone, Anthony Boncaldo, and all five of the Russians plead not guilty.
I realize each of those men are here because I followed up on an anonymous tip. I had to act so fast in the moment that I didn’t give too much thought to who the source was. But now that I’m here, looking at these men, hearing their names, connecting them to Mateo… Not that I’ll ever find out, but I wonder what the story behind the tip is. Was someone hurt or betrayed and wanted to get back at someone? And if so, was it one of these eight men, or someone they work for?
Judge Korbel confirms the next court date, denies bail, and instructs the defendants to be remanded into custody and return to jail to await their next hearing.
We didn’t expect anything different. Criminals rarely plead guilty in their arraignment, no matter how red-handed they were caught. We knew the judge would deny bail. But this is an important formality in the process.
After the judge leaves, the courthouse begins to empty. I see that Mateo is one of the first people to leave the courtroom. I can’t tell what he’s thinking. Surely, he knew just as well as I did how this would play out today.
The busy courtroom felt full and stuffy. I thought it would be a relief to get outside. But it’s hot and humid. Nicoletti is already talking to the press again. The reporters crowded at the bottom of the steps, the DA just a few steps above them.
People are milling around outside, in no hurry to get back to the rest of their day. I see some of my colleagues chatting in a group. Then I spot Mateo, just down the block. He’s standing by some parked cars talking to someone. I make my way through the knots of pedestrians toward him.
The sun is blazing. I examine the sky and there’s not a cloud in it. I can almost smell the heat from the city. Mateo must be sweltering in that suit. He sees me approaching him and the man that was talking to him stops.
“Hello, Mateo,” I say.
Mateo nods at the man with him. The man leaves us and gets in the driver’s seat of an SUV. Mateo doesn’t respond until the man is in his car.
“So, you knew who I was after all?” Mateo tilts his head and gives me an appraising look.
“No,” I reply, crossing my arms in front of me. “But I figured it out the next day. You knew who I was?”
“Not until later that night.” Mateo’s shoulders seem to relax. “Saw you on TV,” he nods to the press and the DA at the steps to the courthouse.
“Huh,” I reply unfolding my arms and scratching the back of my neck. It’s weird seeing Mateo again. He still seems more like the Mateo I met and not the big criminal Mateo Barone that I’ve pictured since I realized who he was.
Suddenly, I hear the loud diesel engine of a vehicle coming down the road. Mateo and I both look. It’s an armored police vehicle, about the size of a small bus. It pulls up to the curb in front of the courthouse.
We hear a commotion up by the courthouse entrance. The reporters that were grilling Nicoletti are scrambling up the steps as the doorway opens, their photographers frantically snapping pictures.
The guards from inside the courthouse are now leading the defendants out the door, still handcuffed and in their prison garb.
“Why aren’t they taking them out the back?” Mateo says.
I glance at him. His eyebrows are knitted together in a deep scowl.
“I guess the DA wants to make the most of any chance for publicity. Let the press get some good shots of criminals in cuffs on the courthouse steps.” But I silently agree with him. It’s a little weird to pull a stunt like this in front of the courthouse.
We watch the eight prisoners as they’re shuffled down the steps by the guards. The photographers are getting their pictures, but everyone else who was out here stops to watch them as if someone pressed pause on the scene.
