After a lengthy search, a jury had been carefully selected, and the case was going to be heard by Judge Amy Davis. I was delighted that we had pulled a female judge because I thought she, although unethical, might have an empathetic bent that a male judge would not. Of course, if she did have a blatantly biased view, Parker would make sure that she recused herself.
Even so, our case was strong, and with the evidence we had it didn’t really matter what the gender of the judge happened to be. We were ready, and we were confident even though, like I said, we had not procured a proper warrant before the search and seizure.
Our opening statement came to a screeching halt before we ever began. I felt like a student who had studied for the wrong test, and utter disbelief was the only thing tumbling around in my head as Parker Patterson immediately called for the dismissal of the case.
“Case dismissed? Are you serious? On what grounds, your Honor?” I queried.
Parker was a winner for a reason. An expert at due diligence, she had discovered that the search warrant issued was for the house proper. It did not include the grounds, nor the woodpile, so therefore all the evidence, including the contents of the dog’s stomach was inadmissible. It looked like a novice mistake made by a novice detective, and that novice detective was me.
My partner and I stood in stunned, stupefied silence as Judge Davis granted the dismissal of the case, due to lack of evidence, illegal search and seizure, and the absence of a corpus delicti. We also listened as she granted witness protection…once again for a known murderer. Parker had done her job, and had done it with absolute expertise.
I will never forget the look on Kevin Mays’ face as he heard Judge Adams’ ruling, nor will I ever forget the look on Judge Adams’ face as she rendered her decision.
The next few minutes were a complete fog until we reached the top of the courthouse steps. I didn’t even remember how I got out of the courtroom. I wanted to scream, “are you fucking kidding me? Are you fucking kidding me?”
The famous saying “justice is blind” pissed me off. Justice was not blind. Justice had its eyes wide open as it prevented the very laws that are supposed to protect the innocent. There was going to be no justice for Evelyn May. More than once I had given a toast and said, “justice is for the guilty. The laws are supposed to protect the innocent, but clearly they protect the guilty.”
I settled down and watched as a woman slowly approached Parker. I was halfway hoping she would punch her in the face but instead, she calmly said, “I want to ask you a question.” Parker said nothing and waited. The woman asked, “how do you sleep at night?”
Parker looked at her and almost mockingly said, “first, I slip into my silk Hermes lingerie. Then I pull back my Charlotte Thomas Bedspoke 22-karat gold sheets to reveal my Hungarian goose down pillows. Just before I turn off my original Tiffany lamp, which sits on a piece of my handmade Henredon furniture, I glance at my extensive collection of Fabergé Eggs, and my original paintings by Van Gogh, Monet and Rembrandt. I must say that I find the works of Pollock and Picasso a bit troubling.”
She turned and walked away as if she had just been asked for the time.
I will admit that I had an intense hatred for Parker Patterson. She was like a deadly Black Mamba, stalking her prey and then striking with electrifying precision. But she was stalking the good guys, striking like a lightning bolt, and leaving us paralyzed and helpless as we watched these scumbags, degenerates, and bottom-feeders walk away as free as a bird.
My question was, “why?”
For years, I kept asking myself that same question. “Why? Why would arguably one of the most talented and yes, most beautiful litigators continue to defend people who were so reprehensible?”
I was not one to accept “I don’t know” as an answer. There is always an answer to a question. It may not be what you want to hear, but there is an answer, and I wanted an answer.
I did my time with the public defender’s office and moved on to one of the city’s most reputable firms. Within a surprisingly short time, I was named a junior partner, despite my earlier faux pas with the May case. The celebration was in full swing and my mind suddenly went back to those days when I had literally been gutted by Parker Patterson.
Her reputation had never faltered and the general loathing toward her had never subsided. She had made millions defending common slime, along with a multitude of stereotypical, entitled rich scumbags, who had gotten caught with their pants down and, who didn’t bat an eye when she demanded a one million dollar retainer fee. They knew she was able to do magic.
My dream was to once again meet her in court. I wanted to literally and figuratively eviscerate her. That day would never come, but I would continuously watch her pulling off the impossible from what seemed like an endless bag of tricks.
A case that caught national attention was about a wealthy man, named Jackson Alton Benton, who was a secret pedophile. It was a well kept open secret, but no convincing proof had ever been brought to bear. His luck ran out one night when he was stopped for a routine license check. Because they believed it was within the arm of the law, the officers searched his car.
A young boys’ bloody underwear was found in the trunk, along with a rope, a gun and a canvas bag. Two weeks earlier, a little boy had gone missing, and an extensive and exhaustive search had been fruitless.
The items that were found in the trunk of Benton’s car were put into evidence bags, and he was arrested, the whole time screaming police brutality, and pleading his innocence.
Amid cries of utter heartbreak, the little boys’ mother was notified and was able to identify his underwear.
Parker Patterson was immediately called and presented herself as counsel for Benton. She bonded him out and began to prepare her defense. Her immediate questions were how the items were obtained, and who had issued the search warrant. No search warrant had been obtained, but at least Benton had been Mirandized.
The prosecutor argued that the law states that with “reasonable suspicion” you and your belongings can be searched, but Parker accused the arresting officers of falling short when trying to explain their suspicions or their justifications for searching the car.
Parker Patterson made the prosecutor look like a neophyte. “Of what were you ‘reasonably’ suspicious?” she asked. “Were you ‘reasonably suspicious’ because he wore an expensive suit and drove and even more expensive car? Tell me. What were your ‘reasonable’ motives for the illegal search and seizure?”
When called to testify, one of the officers finally admitted that they were bored and pulled him over for kicks. “For kicks?” asked Parker? “Well, we thought we’d harass him a bit maybe,” said the other officer.
“I see,” said Parker. “And they taught that in officer training school…that you were allowed to ‘harass’ a person because you were bored? Were you bored when they discussed obtaining a search warrant?”
Parker went on to address the judge. “Your Honor, we have nothing here against my client. If anything, charges should be filed against the incompetent officers who illegally searched my client’s car for no other reason than ‘they could’.’
To be continued__________________