A Good Mother by Lara Bazelon (classic books to read .TXT) 📕

the defense is in no position to be telling this court what the government’s theory is. And anyway, the government is entitled to investigate its case and alter its theory when new information comes to light.”

Seeing Dars start to nod, Abby interjects, “There are multiple calls between my client and Mr. Estrada starting back in December of 2005. Sergeant Hollis died in October of 2006. Mr. Estrada has a general practice. My client could have talked with him about any number of matters.”

“Well, that’s what we are going to find out.” Dars claps his hands together. “Ladies, ladies, I thank you for this excellent oral argument. Truly. It is amazing to me that we once prohibited you from practicing law.” He gives each of them an avuncular nod of approval, and Abby, whose stomach is now roiling, takes her seat. Dars turns back to Shauna. “Ms. Gooden, you are excused.”

Shauna looks up, startled. “Your Honor—”

Dars jerks his thumb toward the door. “Move along. You can’t be here, not unless and until there’s a reason to believe Mr. Estrada can break the privilege.” He looks at the rows of reporters. “You people, too. Out.” There is the sound of murmuring as the disgruntled reporters gather their possessions. “Mr. Estrada, have a seat in the witness box. The clerk will swear you in.”

Beside her, Abby hears Luz gasp again. “Look down,” Abby whispers, “look down at the ground and do not say a word.”

The courtroom doors swing shut behind Shauna and press gaggle as Estrada comes forward, his back straight, eyes looking neither right nor left. He is wearing a gray suit and a white shirt, well-pressed. Will had told Abby that Estrada was an older guy, and he is, but not in the hoary, done-in way she expected of strip mall storefront lawyer. He looks good for his age, handsome with his carefully combed silver hair and wire-rimmed glasses.

Estrada sits down and raises his hand as the clerk haltingly administers the oath.

Dars swivels to face him. “This is a closed proceeding and the transcript will be sealed. You can speak freely, so go ahead and give me a summary of what you and the defendant talked about when you spoke on the phone. Ten, twenty minutes, you’re off the stand, I make my ruling, and everyone goes home. How does that sound?”

Estrada looks at Dars for a moment. “No.”

Dars’s eyebrows lift. “Excuse me?”

“As I told Mr. Ellet, my conversations with Mrs. Rivera Hollis are protected by the attorney-client privilege.”

“Mr. who—” Dars turns, looks at Will, then turns back to Estrada. “Do I look like Mr. Ellet to you, sir? Or like Ms. Rosenberg, or Ms. Gooden? I am a federal judge. Appointed by the President, confirmed by the United States Senate. This is my courtroom. It isn’t a request, it’s an order.”

“I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to comply with it.”

Dars’s face and neck have turned an unhealthy scarlet and Abby, despite the gravity of the situation, cannot help but take momentary pleasure in the fact that his mask is so badly askew. If Rayshon were here, he would have fist-bumped her under the table.

“You will comply,” Dars says, his voice raised, “or you will be held in contempt.”

Estrada shakes his head. “Mrs. Rivera Hollis did not seek my advice for criminal purposes and there has been no fraud perpetrated on this court.”

Dars points a shaking finger at Estrada. “Are you challenging my authority?”

Estrada pauses for a moment, then says, “Yes, I suppose I am.”

Dars leans in, as if to put physical force behind the words. “I am not a potted plant,” he says in a low whisper, and the sound, amplified by the microphone, is so unnerving that Abby wishes he had just yelled instead. “You don’t get to decide what I can and can’t know. You tell me what your client told you, or you go to jail. Do you understand me?”

Abby feels Luz flinch, puts a restraining hand on her arm. She looks over at Will, who appears to have finally woken up from his stupor. He looks back at her in alarm, then trains his eyes on Estrada.

Estrada looks several shades paler than he did a moment ago, but his voice is low and even. “My answer is still no. Your order is a violation of my ethical obligations to my client, and I don’t believe it is enforceable.”

Dars stares at him for another moment, as if waiting for Estrada to correct himself, then slowly shakes his head. “You don’t think my order is enforceable?” He raises his gavel and slams it down. “This witness, Mr. Jorge Estrada, is hereby found in criminal contempt of court and sentenced to fifteen months imprisonment.”

Luz makes a strangled noise in her throat and Abby is on her feet. “Your Honor, we object—”

“You don’t have grounds to object.” Dars is yelling now, his finger pointed at her. “You are not his lawyer. Now sit down.”

“He needs one, Your Honor. I request that the court adjourn so we can find counsel to represent—”

“Honey, did you hear what I said? Sit down, goddammit, or you are going with him.”

For a moment, the courtroom is utterly silent. Then Abby hears Will scramble to reach around Luz’s back, feels him grab her by the arm and pull her down into her seat. Dars points to the marshal seated behind them, and Abby turns around. Jared again, looking just as gobsmacked as he did at the bail hearing, albeit for a completely different reason. “You.” Dars makes a lifting motion with one hand. “Take the witness into custody. And you.” He points at Jared’s partner, seated beside him. “Bring Ms. Gooden back in here.”

As Estrada slowly makes his way down from the witness stand, Jared beckons him over to the back of the courtroom. Shauna, walking inside, does a double take as she sees Estrada surrender his shoes and belt before turning around to have his hands shackled behind his back.

Dars waits until Jared and