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This is already pointless. We’re going to go around in circles.
“Did you gain this information during the committal of a crime?”
“Ah— no.”
That was way too much hesitation.
“Was it while planning to commit a crime?”
“No.”
“Do you have this information firsthand?”
This pause stretches.
“If this is hearsay, Mr. Cohenour, it’s unlikely to do you much good. You may aid in an investigation, but I can’t promise immunity if you don’t have firsthand knowledge.”
“I do. I do.”
Now he’s trying too hard again. All my Spidey senses are tingling.
“How did you gain this information?”
“That goon—”
“No. Do not tell me what you believe is the relevant information. Tell me how you got it.”
“I heard from a guy who belongs to a different— uh —organization that Mr. Scotto was probably looking to get back at some Polish mobsters.”
“Probably? That’s what you have? A probably?”
“I trust this guy who told me.”
“Who is it? How would he know?”
“Um— I— I —can’t say.”
“Why not? Whoever it is will get dragged in for questioning. There’s no way you’ll get around telling the DA if you want them to believe you. So, who?”
He visibly swallows.
“Do you intend to perjure yourself to get this deal? Do you realize that if they prove your statement to be a lie under oath, you will face a Class D felony with three to seven years in prison? It’s up to five years for federal perjury if anything escalates to that. You will only add to your sentence. Let me try to negotiate the minimum sentencing for grand larceny. You could be home in a year.”
“How about no prison and just house arrest?”
I try not to sigh.
“I can present that, but it would be foolish to believe that’s a likelihood. Are we in agreement that you will not perjure yourself and will not request immunity?”
“Yeah.”
“Let’s move forward in a way that’s beneficial to you and your case.”
I put the files down and sit across from him. We spend the next two hours going through all the evidence for the umpteenth time. When I escape back to my office, I shoot off an email to the DA’s office stating we’re amenable to hearing a plea agreement offer. As I sit back in my chair, my elbow on my armrest, my hand over my eyes, I’m resisting the urge to throw something. I generally don’t have violent reactions to things that annoy me. But I don’t want off Gabriele’s case even though I temporarily considered it. I want to represent him and make sure he’s exonerated of all this bullshit. But Cohenour proved people are likely to come out of the woodwork to take down a Mancinelli member.
Who the fuck will be next?
ChapterFive
