The Advocate - 02 - The Advocate's Betrayal (21 page)

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Authors: Teresa Burrell

Tags: #Mystery, #General Fiction

BOOK: The Advocate - 02 - The Advocate's Betrayal
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A crowd had gathered outside the courthouse. People walking up the stairs stopped to listen to the ranting—people of all colors, some laughing, some angry. Bob said, “Sit down and lower your voice before you start a riot.”

Kemp remained standing. Two African-Americans in suits suddenly looked menacing as they stepped toward him. Kemp turned around. “I’m not talking to you. You don’t like what I have to say, then get the hell out of here.” The noise alerted the sheriffs. Four deputies dashed out of the courthouse and stepped between Kemp and the two men. Noise from the sheriff’s radios blared. Bob scooted back a little on the bench, bracing himself. He had been punched in court before. Still, rather than being afraid, he was more astonished at the ignorance of his client and embarrassed at his behavior. Bob scooted over a little more, giving the sheriffs room to block him if his client were sucker punched, which Bob secretly hoped would happen.

“If you have a hearing, go on inside; otherwise please move along,” one of the deputies said to the crowd. Two of them herded the bystanders forward. The other two—Michael, thirty-something and fit, and Ernie, a little older and a little heavier—stayed next to Kemp until the crowd had dispersed. Kemp stood there huffing and puffing like a bull about to take on a matador.

Michael said, “You okay, Bob?”

“Yeah.” Bob remained seated.

Michael looked Mr. Kemp in the eye and said quietly, “You need to settle down or we’ll have to cuff you and take you in.”

Kemp raised his voice once again and leaned into the deputy’s face. “You can’t arrest me for talking.” Then louder. “This is America. I have a right to say what I want when I want.” He whipped around to Bob. “You’re my attorney. Tell them about free speech. These morons don’t seem to know about it.”

Bob stood up, moved very close to his client, and spoke softly, but sternly. “Look, Mr. Kemp. I think you need to know that ‘freedom of speech’ excludes what they call ‘hate speech,’ which if you haven’t reached already, you’re very close to doing.”

Mr. Kemp puffed up his chest. “But….”

“Ehh…,” Bob said as he raised his right hand and waved it in front of his face. “I think these officers are more concerned about keeping the peace right now, which brings up a whole new issue. But if you continue, I won’t be able to stop them from making an arrest.” Then in a flippant tone Bob said, “I could, however, help defend you once you are arrested.” Mr. Kemp sighed, deflating his chest; his shoulders dropped. Bob continued more seriously. “But I don’t think you want that. More importantly, we have a good shot at winning this trial today if, and that’s a big ‘if,’ you can calm down and do as I say. So, if you want your kids back, I suggest you control yourself and let me do my job. Either way, I’m walking out of here today a free man. You decide how you want to play it.” Bob picked up his files and started to walk off.

Kemp reached out and grabbed Bob’s arm. Bob turned around to face him, shaking him off, and saw a tear in Kemp’s eye. “All right,” Kemp said. “I just want my kids back. I’m going crazy without them.”

 

Thelma Barnes, the social worker, hobbled into the courtroom and took a seat next to County Counsel at the far left of the table, her arthritic knees slowing her down as she walked. On the right side of County Counsel was Robin Weinstein, the CASA volunteer. Next was Wagner, sitting by his client, Mrs. Kemp. Then there was Sabre, minor’s counsel without the children present. Bob sat next to Sabre and on his right, at the far end of the table, was Mr. Kemp. The judge was on the bench, the court clerk sat at the desk next to the judge, and the court reporter was on the other side of the judge near the counsel tables. Two bailiffs stood in the back about ten feet from Mr. Kemp.

“I’ll hear arguments on the demurrer,” Judge Hekman said.

“Thank you, Your Honor.” Bob stood up, hands folded in front of him, and stated matter-of-factly, “I’ve provided counsel with copies of my motion to dismiss for failure to state a cause of action. My client is not disputing the facts in this case.” Bob looked at his client, his voice taking on a political speech tone. “In fact, he is proud of his American heritage, his right to free speech, his freedom of religion, and his right to bear arms. He readily admits he’s teaching his children at an early age to handle guns.” Mr. Kemp sat up straighter in his chair, puffing up his chest. “The guns are never loaded; the ammunition is locked up. This is not a safety issue, Your Honor. In fact, it’s quite the contrary. He believes if his children learn to respect and handle guns they will be safer in the long run. As far as his choice of targets, it’s ludicrous to think it affects the safety of these children.” Mrs. Kemp was nodding her head in agreement.

“The petition states these parents are teaching hatred which results in fights, putting the children at risk. There is no evidence indicating my client has in any way taught his children to fight. He is a peaceful man with very strong beliefs. And yes, he gets angry when other people don’t allow him to express those beliefs. He’s not angry, Your Honor, because they think differently than him.” Bob’s voice grew louder and with more indignation. “He’s angry because they try to infringe on his rights, his constitutional right to free speech, his right to raise his family as he sees fit, his right to bear arms, and his basic right of freedom of religion. These are fundamental rights granted to us by our forefathers.” Mr. Kemp balled up his fist and struck it in the air in front of him. Bob lowered his voice. “All parents teach their children their religious beliefs and their heritage. Some parents teach their children Catholicism, or Judaism, or the teachings of Buddha. My client finds this appalling. He believes the only true church is ‘The White Church.’ This is his heritage. His birthright. Furthermore, it is his religion.

“The petition alleges facts that are undisputed by my client, but his position is basically, ‘So what?’ These facts have not resulted in any physical harm to his children and there is no real reason to believe that it will.”

Both parents nodded in agreement.

“According to the Welfare and Institutions Code 300 (c), the department needs to show ‘
The child is suffering serious emotional damage, or is at substantial risk of suffering serious emotional damage, evidenced by severe anxiety, depression, withdrawal….’
There is no evidence of any severe anxiety, depression, or withdrawal. The department will likely argue the petition also talks about ‘untoward aggressive behavior toward self or others,’ but there is no evidence of that, either. The fights Kat was involved in were provoked by other students. She merely protected her space.”

“That’s right,” Mrs. Kemp said out loud.

The judge said, “Mrs. Kemp, please refrain from commenting.”

Wagner leaned into his client and whispered in her ear, then nodded to the judge, who said, “Please proceed, Mr. Clark.”

“And, in addition, it is my client’s contention that this is a strong and sincerely held religious belief and therefore not covered by this code section. In fact, this goes to the very core of his religion. We’re asking the court to dismiss this petition for failure to show an underlying cause of action.”

Judge Hekman cocked her head to one side and looked out over her glasses at Mrs. Kemp and her attorney. “And Mr. Wagner, I see you filed on behalf of the mother as well. Would you like to add anything?”

“Yes, Your Honor,” Mr. Wagner said before he stood up. “I agree with the comments made by Mr. Clark and would add that my client is very dedicated to her religious beliefs, so much so that she went to the trouble to change her name.”

“Excuse me. You say she changed her name for her church?”

Mr. Wagner waved his right hand in a circular motion. “You know, like the Buddhists or Muslims obtain a new name. Or even the Catholics are expected to choose some kind of saint’s name.”

The judge shook her head in disbelief. “Mr. Wagner, are you saying you have to change your name to be a member of this church?”

“No, and I don’t think you’re actually required by the Qur’an to have an Islamic name, either, but I’m not entirely sure about that. I do know that when you’re confirmed in the Catholic church, you receive another name. But my client did in fact change her name from Patricia Kemp to Kelly K. Kemp and….”

The judge held her hands up, palms up. “Whoa. Just a minute. I’m almost afraid to ask this, but are you suggesting everyone in this church has the initials KKK?”

The mother shook her head signifying no and her attorney said, “No, Your Honor.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” the judge said rolling her eyes.

Mr. Wagner continued. “I just point that out as an indication of her true dedication to her religion.” Looking forward toward the court, Sabre rolled her eyes up in her head. The court reporter saw it and smirked.

“I can see how dedicated she is, Mr. Wagner, by the tattoo of her initials on her bicep.” The judge looked at Sabre. “What is your position, Ms. Brown?”

Sabre stood up. “Your Honor, the petition speaks only to religion as a defense if the parent fails to provide adequate mental health treatment. That is not the case here. This is not about the treatment of mental health at all. In fact, if anything, this is about creating a need for mental health treatment. This clause does not give parents the right to beat their child for religious reasons, or neglect them, or put them at risk in any fashion such as these parents have done. I believe there is sufficient cause of action stated and the court should hear the case on the merits.”

The judge said, “County Counsel?”

It took a few seconds for the attorney for the department to stand up. When she did, she leaned on the table supporting her weight and pushed herself up. She was so heavy her skirt appeared shorter in the back than the front, and Sabre noticed her ample nose had a mole with a whisker growing out of it. “I join in the remarks of minors’ counsel and submit on our response to the demurrer,” she said.

“Very well,” the judge said. “We’ll take a fifteen-minute recess, and when we return I’ll have my decision.”

The County Counsel waddled out of the courtroom with the social worker and the Kemps. After everyone else exited, Bob, Sabre, and Wagner remained. Wagner threw the papers in his folder, dumped it in his briefcase, and slammed it shut as if he had completed a good day’s work. He put his briefcase upright on the table, leaned his elbow on it, and asked, “So what do you think Hekman will do?”

Bob hesitated, waiting until everyone had left the courtroom. “Well, she’s considering it, and that’s more than most juvenile judges would have done,” Bob said. He turned to Sabre. “Do you think she’s going to grant the demurrer?”

“I don’t know. It is a weak petition and I’m not sure there’s a cause of action stated.” She sighed. “But I’m sure those children need something besides a constant diet of hate fed to them every day, and for that reason I’ll continue the fight.” Sabre shuffled toward the door. “By the way, Wags, your argument sucked.”

“Hey, Bob had said all the good stuff. It’s all I had left. Besides, you never know about Hekman. Sometimes that crazy old coot buys this nonsense.”

 

25

 

 

Sabre walked upstairs with the CASA worker, Robin Weinstein. “So, how did you get so lucky as to get this case?” Sabre asked.

“Just next in line on the rotation. They offered to pass on me because of my last name, but I told them no. I wasn’t about to back down from these people. But now it’s looking kind of futile because, since the parents got wind of my name, the children won’t talk to me anymore.”

“I know, even though the visits are supervised, it doesn’t keep the parents from saying exactly what they want to say. They don’t even try to hide the racist slurs, even now while they’re in the system.”

Robin threw her hands out, palms up. “The funny part is I’m not even Jewish. I’m probably more white Anglo-Saxon than the Kemps. But I guess since I’m married to a Jewish man, I’m suspect anyway.”

“It may all be moot after Hekman’s decision today.” They stopped at the top of steps. “If she grants their motion, the case is over.”

“Do you think she’ll grant it?”

“You never know with her. She won’t want to, but if she feels the petition’s not legally sound, she’ll have to grant it.” Sabre walked over to a bench in the hallway and took a seat. Robin followed her. Sabre turned to her with a sympathetic voice. “Did you visit much with the children before you got the cold shoulder?”

“Yeah, I talked to them a few times and was able to spend a little quality time with them. Kat was starting to open up.”

“Did Kat say anything about what they do, where they go, what her parents do? Anything that might lead us to something?”

“She said something about going to Perris.”

“California or France?”

“California. Actually, I was talking about Paris, France, and Kat told me she had been there. After a few questions, I realized she was talking about Perris, California.”

“Really? What did she say exactly?”

“She said there’s a beautiful castle made of stone that sits on top of a hill in Perris. She said they go there a lot.”

“To the castle?”

“Not to the castle itself, but I had the impression it was somewhere very near there because she could see the castle—even climb the hill to reach it if she wanted to and if it wasn’t dark.”

Sabre leaned into Robin and said, “Think. Did she say when they go there? What day of the week, maybe?”

“I think it’s on Sunday because they go after church. They have services twice on Sunday in their ‘white church.’ I’m thinking they go after the evening service because she said it’s usually dark.”

“Thanks,” Sabre said. She leaped up, then reached down and hugged Robin. “By Jove, we just might have something.” Sabre darted downstairs to seek County Counsel. “See you in court.”

Back inside the courtroom, everyone was seated when the judge came out and took the bench. Mr. Kemp sat up straight and confidently, almost in defiance of the robes before him, his attorney next to him. Mrs. Kemp whispered something to her attorney as the judge took her seat. “I’m ready to rule on the motion,” she said. The courtroom became very still. “First, I want to say something to the parents.” She looked directly at the father and then the mother. “You ought to be ashamed of yourselves for teaching those children to hate and to be hateful. You’ve planted seeds they’ll carry with them for a lifetime and most likely make their lives miserable.” Bob caught Wagner’s eye. Wagner winked. Sabre saw it and sighed. She knew Hekman wouldn’t be giving them the lecture unless she was cutting them loose. “You’ve taken the innocence away from your children.”

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