No Legal Grounds (18 page)

Cam took his place at the podium.
“Officer Helmuth, the warrant describes cans, canisters, boxes,
bags, and other similar receptacles, is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“Did you think some of these items might be kept in a
drawer?”
“Yes, I did. That’s why I looked there.”
“Why did you choose a dresser drawer?”
“Because if someone is trying to hide incriminating material,
they wouldn’t necessarily put it where you would expect to find
it.”
Cam nodded. He wasn’t using notes. “Why did you seize the
gun?”
“Because it looked like it was connected to the pictures. When I
put it all together, I thought the defendant might be targeting those
people.”
“Why did you think that?”
“I asked the defendant who those people were. He said, ‘None of
your business.’ I thought there was a risk, so I arrested him.” This was sounding thin. Sam could fill in all the blanks himself,
but what would the judge think if this was the only testimony? Cam said he had no more questions. Neither did Jastrow.
Andrews asked Jastrow to make his argument on the first part of
the motion.
“Your Honor,” the defense lawyer said, “I think it’s pretty clear
what happened here. The officers did not find what they were looking for and decided they didn’t like the cut of my client’s jib, and
went on a little fishing expedition. When they invaded his dresser
drawer, a very intimate location to say the least, they found some
photographs and a gun. The gun was registered. Perfectly legal.
But they decided, through a wild jump of the imagination, that a
potential crime might be in process. Last time I looked we didn’t
arrest people for crimes that haven’t been committed. The arrest
was clearly illegal; the seizure of this evidence was illegal. I frankly
don’t know what we’re doing here.”
Judge Andrews said, “Well, I’m glad you’re unclear about what
we’re doing here, Mr. Jastrow, because that justifies my existence.” The comment drew laughter from the courtroom audience.
The judge then invited Cam to make his argument. Sam thought
Cam was starting to look a little apprehensive. Or maybe it was just
Sam’s anxiety coming out of his pores.
“The real issue here, Your Honor,” Cam said, “is not the legality
of the arrest. No evidence was seized as a result of the arrest. The
evidence was seized pursuant to the warrant, and the warrant specifically described the items to be searched for. It is clear that cans
or canisters are small enough to fit in a drawer. That makes this a
very simple, clear-cut matter. In serving the warrant, the officers
were entitled to look in drawers, cupboards, closets, and anywhere
else where one of these items might be. Opening the dresser drawer
was therefore legal, and the evidence seized in plain view. Whether
that evidence is indicative of a crime will be up to Your Honor at
the preliminary hearing. But the evidence is clearly admissible.” Sam sure hoped so.
Judge Andrews only contemplated his decision for a moment.
“On this part of the motion I agree with the People. The officers complied with knock notice, and clearly the dresser drawer was a place they could reasonably think might hold the items they were
looking for. The photographs and firearm were properly seized.” Sam’s sigh was louder than he wanted it to be. He sheepishly
sat back in his seat and looked straight ahead. Out of the corner of
his eye he saw Nicky looking over at him. He thought he detected
a grin.
“Now,” the judge said to Jastrow, “you want to take up the matter of probable cause?”
“I do.”
“Do you have a witness?”
“Yes. I call Samuel Trask to the stand.”
Cam had also prepped Sam for this moment, though when Sam
stood up he couldn’t help feeling a zigzagging jolt of nerves. There
were press people here, and the curious — and mostly retired —
court watchers. But it was Nicky Oberlin’s eyes he felt most of all.
He could see that look peripherally as he made his way to the stand
to be sworn.
After taking the oath and stating his name for the record,
Sam readied himself for the scalpel of one of LA’s top lawyers.
He reminded himself that he was no legal slouch, but that was no
license to be too clever.

“Good morning, Mr. Trask.” Jastrow smiled.
“Morning.” Sam was not going to violate the two primary rules
for witnesses under hostile questioning: Do not volunteer anything,
and keep your answers short.
“I am placing before you the statement taken by Officer
Helmuth, entitled Statement of Samuel Trask, and ask if indeed
that is your statement?”
Sam took the document and gave it a cursory look. “It’s a
copy.”
“Thank you so much for the clarification. Is that your signature —
excuse me — a copy of your signature on the bottom?”
“Yes.”
“There are a few things you left out of this statement, isn’t that
true, Mr. Trask?”
“Nothing relevant,” Sam snapped.
“I was just wondering why you didn’t put in the part about your
assault on Mr. Oberlin.”
Cam Bellamy shot to his feet. “Objection. Relevance.” “This goes to credibility, Your Honor. I want to explore Mr.
Trask’s state of mind, which may have colored his judgment. At the
very least, it’s something that should have been revealed to Officer
Helmuth. I’m sure the issuing magistrate would have been very
interested in knowing all the facts.”
Judge Andrews pursed his lips, then nodded. “I’ll overrule the
objection. Witness will answer.”
Sam’s throat went dry. “Mr. Oberlin’s lawsuit has nothing to do
with the facts of his threat against me.”
“Threat? Let’s see.” Jastrow took the statement. “You say here
that Mr. Oberlin made a verbal threat to take your family apart, bit
by bit.”
“That’s right.”
“What was the context of that statement, Mr. Trask?” “Context? He threatened me, that was the context.” “In a public park, is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“At a meeting you instigated, right?”
“That’s right.”
“For what reason, Mr. Trask?”
“To get Oberlin to stop harassing me and my family.” Jastrow tossed the affidavit on the counsel table as if it no longer
mattered. “Why, then, did you threaten Mr. Oberlin’s mother at
this meeting?”
In the frozen moment before Cam Bellamy’s objection,
Sam caught a glance at Nicky Oberlin and his look of sadistic
satisfaction.
“No foundation,” Cam Bellamy said.
“I’m asking the witness,” Jastrow replied.
“Has to be some foundation for the question, Your Honor.” “If the DA will allow for a little fact finding, we’ll find it.” Andrews put up his hand in a Solomon-like call for calm. “This
is a hearing on a motion, Mr. Bellamy. I’m going to allow some leeway on this. The witness may answer.”
“I did not threaten anyone’s mother,” Sam said.
“Did you bring up the subject of Mr. Oberlin’s mother, sir?” “I mentioned his mother, yes.”
“You used a derogatory term for her, didn’t you?”
“I don’t recall.”
“Didn’t you derisively refer to her as
Mommy
?”
“I may have, but — ”
“In an insulting way?”
“No.”
“In an effort to intimidate Mr. Oberlin?”
“No.”
“To show how macho you are?”
“Objection,” Cam said.
“Sustained,” Judge Andrews said.
“That’s what this is really all about, isn’t it, Mr. Trask?” “Objection — ”
“Your manhood?”
Judge Andrews scowled at Jastrow. “I sustained the objection,
Counsel. You’re not making any headway with this line.” With a nod and a smile, Jastrow said, “You have a pretty good
recall of the exact words Mr. Oberlin said to you, right?” “I do, yes.”
“How sure are you?”
“I swore to them.”
“Did you write them down immediately after this meeting in
the park?”
Sam turned slightly in the witness chair. “No.”
“Didn’t feel the need?”
“That’s right.”
“Didn’t record them in any way?”
A trap, perfectly sprung. Jastrow was fishing, but he’d stuck the
hook firmly in Sam’s mouth. He couldn’t lie.
“I did record them.”
Jastrow had his back to Sam when he answered. Now he spun
around, a look of theatrical surprise on his face. He paused, letting
Sam’s answer settle in the ears of the judge.
“That’s very interesting, Mr. Trask. You’re a member of the bar,
are you not?”
“Yes.”
“You must know then that private conversations are protected
under California law?”
Cam Bellamy said, “Misstates the law, Your Honor.” “Confidential communications then,” Jastrow said. “Which is
any communication either party reasonably believes to be private.” “They were in a public park, Your Honor.”
“But they weren’t shouting toward the ball field, either.” Judge Andrews scowled. “This is a matter that I’ll have to take
under advisement. At the moment, Mr. Jastrow, I’ll allow you to
explore the circumstances of this recording.”
To Sam the judge sounded seriously peeved, as if Sam had hidden one very important card from him. Well, he had.
“You had a tape recorder hidden when this conversation took
place?” Jastrow asked.
“Yes.”
“You did not inform Mr. Oberlin of this, did you?”
“No.”
“You were not surrounded by people during this conversation,
were you?”
“No.”
“In fact, you wanted to keep things discreet, did you not?” “Sure.” Jastrow was patiently reeling him in. How much worse
could it get?
“It was your expectation that the conversation would not be
overheard, wasn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“It was Mr. Oberlin’s too.”
“I don’t know what was in his mind.”
“He was standing right in front of you, wasn’t he? Same conditions applied, didn’t they?”
“I don’t know what was in his mind, sir.”
Jastrow smoothed his tie. “We’ll let His Honor draw the conclusion.” He turned to the judge. “I would move that the tape be
produced and admitted into evidence, Your Honor.”
“Mr. Bellamy?”
“The tape is not relevant to this matter, Your Honor. The only
relevance is Mr. Trask’s sworn statement about what was said. That
has not been challenged.”
A light seemed to go off in Jastrow’s head. “If I may ask the witness another question, Your Honor, perhaps we can see if the tape
is relevant or not.”
“Go ahead,” Judge Andrews said.
“Mr. Trask, did you ever discuss this tape with Mr. Bellamy?” Reeled in and filleted. “Yes,” Sam said.
“Did you discuss taping Mr. Oberlin before you actually did?” “Yes.”
“So Mr. Bellamy knew you were going to do it?”
“No. I never said I would do it.”
“Did Mr. Bellamy tell you it was illegal?”
“I believe he said it would be inadmissible.”
“You believe?”
“Yes, as best as I can recall.”
Jastrow raised his hands. “Too bad
that
conversation wasn’t
recorded.”
“Move on,” the judge said.
“Just so I understand this, Mr. Trask: You told Mr. Bellamy you
might tape record a conversation with Mr. Oberlin, and were told by
Mr. Bellamy it would be inadmissible in a court of law, is that right?” “Yes.”
“Did he tell you not to do it?”
“I don’t recall that he did, no.”
Blaine Jastrow looked supremely satisfied. “Your Honor, I have
no further questions of this witness.”
“Anything you want to ask the witness?” Andrews asked Cam
Bellamy.
“No, Your Honor.”

“Not good,” Cam told Sam in his office. Andrews had ordered a fifteen-minute recess.
“What’s Jastrow going to say?”
“He’s going to say the affidavit was based on an illegal tape, and therefore the search warrant fails, and the evidence is inadmissible.”
“And if that happens — ”
“No case. Good-bye. Oberlin walks.”
The prospect made Sam shiver. “Then what?”
“At the very least, we hope that he gets the message. Maybe he’ll lay off after this.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
“We have to catch him doing something.”
“Maybe he’ll poison my wife. Would that do it?”
“Come on, Sam.”
“Come on what? That’s your job, isn’t it? To stop these people?”
“No, it’s not. My job is to prosecute people who commit crimes, when there’s enough evidence to prove it.”
“Maybe we should go back to vigilante justice.”
“And lynchings?”
“In Oberlin’s case, I’ll give you the rope.”
“You wouldn’t really, Sam. I know you too well.”
“I’m beginning to wonder if I know myself. You know I almost bought a gun off the street?”
“Sam — ”
“Don’t worry, I didn’t go through with it. But I was close. Man, I was close. If he gets out of this — ”
Cam looked at his watch. “We’re about to find out. I’ll argue the heck out of this, Sam. I just don’t want you to get your hopes up.”
“That’s not possible at this point,” Sam said.