Authors: Frederick Germaine
Eye Candy (23 page)
“You’ll never understand,” he said looking aimlessly into my eyes as he let go.
I stared back into his eyes until his body splattered like a tomato on the lobby floor. As I continued to look downwards, the crowd below was in a full panic by now. People everywhere were running and screaming wildly. I even got a glimpse of Harold staring up at me as if he couldn’t believe what just happened. I was beyond disappointed because the man who had all the answers to my questions was dead now.
The day after Sebastian’s untimely death, Tiffany’s arraignment finally came up. With my swollen right eye, I met Monica and her parents at the Fulton County Courthouse located on Pry or Street in downtown Atlanta. We were all overly anxious to hear and see what sort of results would occur today.
As all four of us sat on the front bench in the courtroom, I noticed it was a few minutes past ten o’clock in the morning based on the clock on the wall in front of me. There were only a handful of people in the quiet courtroom with us. Standing next to the door, where the judge would enter, stood a bailiff dressed in a neatly pressed uniform. He stared straight, showed no emotions, and seemed liked he had been lifting weights his entire life.
In front of the judge’s bench there were two tables. At one table sat Paula Hollandale the experienced district attorney who had prosecuted hundreds, if not thousands, of cases for Fulton County. She sat there professionally dressed and was scribbling on her notepad. To the table next to her sat a man who was the public defender. He seemed as if he forgot to shave this morning and wore a cheap suit. I could tell he had been overburden with work as there was a stack of files on the table next to him where he sat. After a few more people made their way inside the courtroom, we all finally heard a distinctive command.
“All rise,” announced the bailiff really loud to the small audience. “The Honorable Judge Johnson J. Morton now presiding.”
On cue, everyone in the courtroom stood up as the judge entered and made his presence. He was a tall black man with a bald head. His black robe fitted him perfectly as he kept a serious demeanor on his face walking to his chair behind his bench. He was known as one of the harsher judges that didn’t allow too much room for leniency in his courtroom.
“You may be seated,” he said firmly as he sat down in his chair. “Bailiff, call the first case.”
“Docket number 3256783, the State of Georgia versus Tiffany Towns,” he said as he read from a folder in his hand.
After the bailiff read the introduction for the first case, he walked over to the judge and handed him the folder he had just read from. While the judge reviewed the contents of the folder, two female sheriff deputies escorted Tiffany into the courtroom. She was looking awful as ever wearing a red jumpsuit, no makeup, and her hair hadn’t been combed in days. The sheriff deputies led her to the male public defender that was now standing up at his table. Even the district attorney had stood up waiting to hear the first words from the judge.
“Ms. Towns, it’s my understanding you have been unable to retain an attorney,” said Judge Morton looking at her. “Thus, the court has provided one for you. Is this correct?”
Before Tiffany could agree to what Judge Morton asked her, the courtroom swinging doors in the rear burst open. In walked a woman carrying a leather case containing what seemed to be a legal file.
“No, it’s not your Honor,” yelled out the dainty, yet fashionable, woman strolling up to Judge Morton’s bench.
“Hey, that’s Katrina Hope, the high profile defense attorney,” said a man out loud to his friend sitting at a bench near us. “I just saw her on
TMZ
the other day.”
As the small crowd finally figured out who the sophisticated woman was, plenty of noise quickly filled the once-so-quiet courtroom.
“Order in the court!” shouted Judge Morton as he struck his gavel.
“Your Honor, I was retained by Sebastian Carter prior to his unfortunate death to represent the interest of Ms. Towns,” said Katrina in front of the judge’s bench. “I actually just filed my letter of representation with the court this morning.”
Katrina handed Judge Morton a document to read. As he overlooks the document, the courtroom looks stunned and waits patiently.
“Well, Ms. Hope, it’s so wonderful to finally see you again in my courtroom,” said Judge Morton sarcastically. “I’ll duly note your representation of Ms. Towns. You may take your position by your client.”
“It’s always a pleasure to see you too, your Honor,” said Katrina before she walked over to the defense table. As she did the courtroom erupted with more noise.
“Order in the court!” barked out Judge Morton again as he struck his gavel for a second time.
Katrina Hope wasn’t just any ordinary attorney, she was best money could buy. She was a partner at the prestigious law firm McLaughlin, Hope, Berkowitz and Lee headquartered in downtown Atlanta. Her firm handled defending high profile celebrity criminal cases and corporate civil claims. Her clients often were acquitted on a regular basis. As she stood next to Tiffany, she was dressed exclusively for the day. I wasn’t a fashion guru but I noticed her wardrobe had a bit of flair to it, including her designer red-bottom heels.
It was now time for Judge Morton to read the charges the state had brought against Tiffany. As he prepared to do so, Katrina stood by her client and whispered in her ear. The public defender has now moved away from the table and sat on another bench near us.
“Ms. Towns, you are being charged with,” started Judge Morton but Katrina quickly cut him off.
“Your Honor, we object to the reading of the formal charges,” said Katrina.
“I won’t allow it in my courtroom, counselor.”
“But, your Honor, we have a right not to have the formal charges read out loud,” said Katrina sounding upset and protesting.
“Yes, Ms. Hope, I understand that. However, as you may know, I always read the defendant’s formal charges out in my courtroom.”
“Yes, your Honor.”
The district attorney smiled at Judge Morton’s comment then she looked at Katrina and rolled her eyes. It was obvious she wasn’t too fond of her legal opponent or her tactics.
“Now, as I was saying,” Judge Morton said. “Ms. Towns you’re charged with two counts of conspiracy to commit murder for the deaths of Brandon and Braylon Malone. Additionally, you are also charged with one count of attempted murder for Monica Malone. How do you wish to plea?”
“My client wishes to plead not guilty, your Honor,” said Katrina proudly.
That comment from Katrina must have struck a nerve with Monica who was sitting next to me. Before anyone knew it, she stood up and let out a cry.
“You murdered my sons, you pitiful witch!” Monica said in an outburst while standing up.
“Monica, it’s going to be okay,” I said quickly standing to my feet and grabbed onto her. “Let the judicial system handle it.”
“Order in the court!” cried out Judge Morton slamming down his gavel. It was evident he was becoming visibly upset by now. “Young lady not another word out of your mouth or I’ll hold you in contempt. Do I make myself absolutely clear?”
“Yes sir,” Monica said softly and we both sat down.
“Your Honor, the defense would like to file a motion to suppress the state’s evidence,” said Katrina. She then reached into her leather case and pulled out a miniature manuscript of paperwork.
“And what evidence do you wish to suppress, Ms. Hope?” asked Judge Morton.
“My client’s statement to the arresting officer and the DVD the state plans to show as evidence,” replied Katrina.
Katrina then asked for permission to approach the bench and same was granted. Once in front of Judge Morton, she handed him her paperwork which included her motion. He quickly reviewed the documents as she walked back to the defense table.
“Your Honor, we will gladly file an objection to the defense motion to suppress evidence,” said Paula Hollandale, the district attorney, finally speaking up.
“Yes, Ms. Hollandale, I anticipated that response from you,” said Judge Morton still looking at the paperwork from Katrina. “File your objection within seventy-two hours and I’ll make a determination.”
“Yes, your Honor,” said the district attorney.
“Now, in the matter of bail, I would like to hear the recommendation from the state first,” said Judge Morton looking at the district attorney.
“Your Honor, the state’s position is that we adamantly and vehemently request the defendant remain in custody without bail,” said the district attorney looking at Tiffany. “We base our suggestion on the fact the crime was heinous in nature and with intent. Furthermore, we believe the defendant poses a potential flight risk.”
“The defense objects, your Honor,” said Katrina giving the district attorney a harsh stare. “My client is completely innocent and the evidence will show likewise. The defense plans to show this at trial and fully exonerate Ms. Towns. Also, Ms. Towns, is gainfully employed, respected in the community, and has family ties right here in Atlanta.”
“Ms. Hope, please save the theatrics for the actual trial,” said Judge Morton. “This is clearly just an arraignment hearing. As for now, bail is denied.”
Slightly rejected, but not quite defeated, Katrina still had one legal strategy up her sleeve. She stood poised and began to speak again.
“Your Honor, there is one other issue the defense would like to address.”
“Yes, Ms. Hope, let me guess,” said Judge Morton with a smile. “You’d like to request for a change in venue.”
“Absolutely, your Honor.”
“Well, let me save you the time and effort of filing your motion because I’m denying that too.”
Katrina looked hot and bothered as she knew she would have a strict battle with Judge Morton once the trial got underway. Now, the district attorney was smiling even more than before. Judge Morton finally struck his gavel for the last time and asked the bailiff to announce the next case.
It had now been a few days since we were in the courtroom but everything still lingered on my mind. I was disappointed at what had transpired at Tiffany’s arraignment even though the judge denied her bail. After talking with the district attorney in length that day, she advised us the trial would likely occur in two years. So that meant for the next few years Monica and I had to continue to live with the pain of our son’s death without any closure.
On a positive note for today, I was actually headed back to work this morning. Mr. Bradshaw’s secretary had called me and made me aware I was now permanently assigned to the revitalization project. I was anxious at getting back to work even though the King and Queen Towers had been engulfed in a media frenzy since Sebastian’s death. The occurrence made the front page of the
Atlanta Journal Constitution
and even
CNN
had set up a live broadcast remote from the building. All of this was the wrong attention Mr. Bradshaw wanted for his company. Thus, he hired a big-shot public relations firm to come in and help restore his company’s clean-cut image. The last thing he wanted was his investors pulling out of the revitalization project.
As I headed out the house, I had gotten acclimated to not smelling breakfast cooking in the kitchen or the constant noise from the twins. I so desperately wanted my wife back in our home but cherished to hold and hug my boys even more. The thought of finally going back to work would hopefully cheer me up.
When I walked through the building’s lobby doors, there was Harold smiling as always. He was occupied shining a pair of shoes for a man seated in one of his chairs. The man was busy reading his morning newspaper as Harold paused for a moment to speak to me.
“It’s great to see you back again, Mr. Malone,” Harold said with enthusiasm as I stopped in front of his work area.
“Thank you, Harold. It’s great to be back at work again.”
“It was so sad to have witnessed how everything turned out with Sebastian, Mr. Malone. I didn’t even see that coming.”
“None of us did, Harold. Even so, I figured in the end he got what was coming to him.”
“I guess you’re right.”
“Hey, these loafers I’m wearing could use a patented shine from you,” I said looking down at my shoes.
“It would be all my pleasure, Mr. Malone.”
“Okay, Harold, I’ll come back downstairs later today.”
“See you then, sir,” he said and went back to finishing up his customer.
Before I walked over to the elevators, I strolled to the middle of the lobby. I noticed the sunlight still beamed eloquently through the replaced skylight. Even the marble tiles had been repaired professionally. I looked upwards to the skylight and then back down. It was as if the incident with Sebastian had never even happened. I stepped away, walked to the elevators, smiled at the concierge, and then traveled upstairs.
The familiarity of the large double glass doors etched with Donaldson and Bradshaw was a great sight to see as I walked off the elevator. As soon as I walked in, all the employees noticed and began to clap and cheer as if I was receiving a hero’s welcome. Even Mr. Bradshaw was there smiling too and greeted me with a firm handshake. Then the two of us retired to his office where he brought me up-to-date on the revitalization project and all his efforts with the public relations firm.
After talking with Mr. Bradshaw for over an hour, it was back to business as usual and I was glad of it. Walking back to my office, everyone I passed gave me a congratulatory handshake or hug. However, the most important person waiting for me was Jane. When I arrived at my office, she was standing in the doorway smiling as if she was my grandmother and gave me the biggest hug ever.
“Oh, Mr. Malone, we all are so proud of you,” she said after hugging me. “And I’m glad you finally returned back to work.”
“Me too, Jane,” I said as we both stood in the doorway to my office. “I was actually losing my mind at home all day.”
“So how is Mrs. Malone doing?”
“She’s doing much better.”
“Well, that’s great to hear, Mr. Malone.”
“So have you been holding down the fort since I’ve been gone?”