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The prosecution team didn’t speak during that short walk to their department. The District Attorney’s offices, as well as the courtrooms, were on the second floor. Press crowded and surrounded them, pushing mics and cameras forward, shouting questions, but Parisi was like a bulldozer, shoving rubbish off the road.
At times like this, the big man’s office was a refuge. Furnished in dark leather, carpeted in Oriental rugs, with heavy curtains closed against the glare and noise of Bryant Street just below, it was dimly lit and quiet.
Yuki took a seat on the tufted love seat opposite Len’s large hand-carved desk. Nick sat in a matching armchair at right angles to the sofa. Yuki glanced at the clock on the wall above Parisi’s desk. Its face was a graphic design of a red pit bull, a reference to Parisi’s nickname, earned by his ferocious prosecutions before he was promoted to the corner office.
Len’s chair wheezed as it took his weight. Katie, Len’s assistant, brought in a folder of phone messages. He thanked her and without looking, put the call sheet on the stack of memoranda.
Looking at Yuki, Len said, “Great job, Yuki. You, too, Nick. I know this case was painful for all concerned. Your star witness was outstanding. Your summation was letter-perfect. Your voice broke during your closing, Yuki, if you didn’t know. A goddamn great touch.”
Yuki said. “That picture … I hadn’t seen the enlargement.”
“I know your emotion was authentic,” Red Dog said. “That’s what notched your closing up to one of the best I’ve heard in this Hall.”
Yuki thanked Parisi. Still, a “but” hung in the air. The “but” was a question: Should the prosecution let Sullivan plead guilty to the lesser charges and drop “attempted murder”?
The answer would be a calculated guess. Having heard the evidence, the testimonies and the arguments, what did the jurors believe? How would they decide their verdict?
Parisi said to Yuki, “What’s your gut tell you? Make the deal on a sure thing? Or roll the dice on attempted murder?”
Yuki said, “Intent is the sticking point. Does the jury believe that Lew Sullivan meant to kill Barbara? If there’s doubt in one juror’s mind, we could lose on attempted murder and stillget a conviction on assault and for scaring the kids. The lesser charges will still get Sullivan forty years in prison.”
“On the other hand,” Parisi said, “if we’ve proved intent to kill Barbara and he’s guilty on all charges, he could get life, no possibility of parole.”
Parisi asked Gaines for his thoughts. Gaines had grown up under Parisi and Len respected him. Nick was a notetaker and knew every word spoken during trial. He was not afraid of grunt work and not afraid of the DA.
Nick said, “It’s that old saying, ‘Half a loaf is better than none.’”
“So,” said Parisi. “You’d drop ‘attempted murder’? Tell us why?”
“Forty years in jail is a substantial term,” Nick said, “I’m comfortable there. If weloseon attempted murder, it might have a cascading effect. Jurors raising issues. Other verdicts of not guilty on the lesser charges.”
Parisi said, “I see. Yuki?”
“I’m thinking about bread. Half a loaf. Whole loaf. Or none.”
Nick was nodding. Len was looking at Yuki.
Yuki said, “You know what? I’m going to take what’s left of the lunch recess and give myself some air. I’ll be ready when Froman reconvenes.”
CHAPTER 60
IT WAS TIME to meet with Judge Froman, and Yuki was swamped by a monster wave of anxiety.
Red Dog had said, “Your case. Your decision.”
He held the door for her and Yuki entered the Judge’s cramped chambers with Parisi behind her. Mo Switzer had preceded them and was already seated at the mini-sized meeting table. Parisi stood with his back to the wall, his hands in his jacket pockets, his XXXL size dwarfing Froman’s chambers to dollhouse proportions.
The judge was behind her desk, signing papers. She looked up and smiled as Yuki took the chair across from Switzer.
“Are we ready, people? We have fifteen minutes.”
Both attorneys said, “Yes, Your Honor,” but what was keeping Yuki on the fence was a technicality. She’d told the jury that to be guilty of attempted murder, Sullivan’s near-fatal attack on Barbara had to beintentional. There had to beintentto kill her, even if his attempt had failed.
Had they understood that they had to infer intent from Lewis Sullivan’sactions?
She had brought those actions into the courtroom with expert witnesses and implements of torture: the chain that lashed Barbara to the sink; the knife, Gorilla Tape, bolt cutter, and other paraphernalia Sullivan had assembled prior to the assault.
Yuki had stated emphatically in her closing that Sullivan hadn’t called for help, hadn’t given his wife food or drink during his three-day aggravated assault, that this proved that he intended to cause her death. And she’d produced the enlarged photo of Barbara Sullivan, beaten to the verge of death.
