Ginger snaps, p.34
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on tonight’s show, but he flat-out refused. I think he’s running scared.
Tomorrow’s gotta be sweet for you. It has to be hard for him to watch
all his client’s assets auctioned off, knowing there’s not a thing he can
do.” Cheryl had him going.
“Well . . . I admit tomorrow will be the end of a very successful inves-
tigation by a lot of hard-working people. It will be a great day for our
country. Jack Patterson thought he’d come back to little Rock and
pull off some home cookin’. Turned out, we’re about to eat him and
his client for lunch.” Clovis gave a big whoop at that one.
Cheryl took his hand in hers. “I’d love to be there—live, with
cameras.”
Dub seemed more focused on where his hand was. “I don’t see why
not. like i said, it’s not a hearing. In fact, I’ve already cleared it with
the marshal.”
Cheryl dropped his hand abruptly and turned to face the camera.
“ladies and Gentlemen, tune in tomorrow for a Fox News exclu-
sive: the dramatic end to a major drug bust as U.S. Attorney Dub
Blanchard reaps his revenge on Jack Patterson. We’ll be with you live
inside the courthouse at ten. You won’t want to miss the climax of this
investigation.”
The cameras cut away for a commercial. I later watched the video
Paul obtained of what had happened next. Cheryl had leaned over
and whispered to Dub. “Are you sure you don’t know the woman
who’s sitting next to Sam? She sure seems to know you.”
Dub went from glowing to glowering. “Sorry, I don’t. I’ll see you
tomorrow. Uh, thanks for having me on your show.” He stomped off
the stage to berate his deputies, slamming a stage door when he finally
noticed the cameras following his every move.
Sam called almost immediately, said he’d be more than happy to
escort Debbie to the auction.
“Throw me in that briar patch any time. I’ll be there tomorrow.
Don’t you disappoint.” He was laughing as he hung up.
Cheryl was holding on the other line.
“You better have the goods, Jack. Your U.S. attorney actually tried
to get me alone in the coat room!” She was not amused.
“He’s not my U.S. attorney, and I’m sure you know exactly how to
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handle him. He’s in for a few surprises tomorrow and, if I’m right,
you’ll have a huge story either way.”
“Dub’s pretty confident, Jack. Are you sure? And when are you
going to tell me about the girl sitting next to Sam? Dub about shit a
brick when he saw her. She’s way too classy for Dub.”
“I’ll pass on the compliment. You’ll meet her tomorrow. let me
keep a few surprises in my bag of tricks.”
Paul and Debbie came into the house on a high.
“Dub blew a gasket when he saw me. What a jerk! But let Paul tell
you about it. I’ve got to get out of this outfit.”
“Cheryl Cole said you were classy. I want you dressed the same way
tomorrow. Cheryl may want to interview you.”
“Classy? Me? No way!” She flounced out without another word. I
wondered what she had against “classy.”
Paul was full of himself. “Jack, it was great. We made an entrance
at the last minute. Two of Dub’s deputies showed up and asked us to
leave, for ‘security reasons.’ Sam walked in at almost exactly the same
time. He kissed Debbie on the cheek and said, ‘Thanks for saving my
seat, Paul. Gentlemen, these seats have been reserved, and this lady
is with me. Is there a problem?’ Sam loved every second of it, and the
deputies backed down pretty quick. You should have seen Dub chewing
out those guys. He was hopping mad. After the show the deputies tried
to detain Debbie for ‘questioning.’ But once again Sam intervened,
accompanied by two deputies of his own. This time the gloves were off.
‘This lady is a witness in an ongoing investigation. If you wish to inter-
view her, have one of your superiors call me.’ He walked her out to my
car and said, ‘I’d be honored to be your escort any time. Tell Jack I’ll
see him in the courtroom tomorrow.’ He even kissed her hand.
“Debbie was speechless, glowed the whole ride home. I hope we
didn’t telegraph too much.” Paul wasn’t speechless, but he was out of
breath.
“You and Debbie did just fine; you got exactly the desired effect.
Make sure you stay close to her in the courtroom. Dub is going to
be livid when he sees her.” Paul nodded happily. Debbie emerged in
comfortable sweats and big bunny slippers, plopping down on the rug
near Micki.
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“Jack, everyone’s here—hadn’t you better tell us what to expect?”
Maggie suggested.
“I’m not sure I can. If the auction is cancelled, we’ll know they’ve
figured out what we’re up to. We’ll be back to square one. I don’t
think that will happen, but they always seem to be one step in front of
me. What’s more, we may win the battle, but lose the war.”
Stella asked, “What does that mean?”
“We’re going to have a half-million dollar letter of credit, meaning
I can bid up to five million. If someone bids more than that, we may
know who the culprit is, but they’ll still have Doug’s research.”
Back in DC, Mr. Kim was shouting into the phone, “Tell that stupid
fool to keep the hell off Tv and do his job. We have too much riding
on this!” He threw the phone across the room blindly, managing to
hit the cat, who flew from the room with a yowl. Feeling a little better,
he wondered if perhaps Dub Blanchard had outlived his usefulness.
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WEdNESdAy
May 7, 2014
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D
I wandered into the kitchen around six the next morning, roused
by the smell of fresh coffee. I could see Stella outside flipping some
tractor tires she had found in Micki’s barn. Flipping tires, big tires—
my eyes were ready to believe, but it took my mind a little longer.
Clovis joined me on the porch, and soon we heard the clatter of Deb-
bie's skillets in the kitchen. either the prospect of court or Moira had
given everyone insomnia.
“Any Moira sightings?” I asked.
“Nope, not even a possible. We’re all on alert. You nervous?” he
asked.
“Not nervous exactly, but definitely on edge. It’s like pitching a ball
game. You start to warm up not knowing which pitch will work and
which won’t. It can be the fastball, curve, or slider, but until you get
a feel for the game, you just have to throw and adjust on the fly. This
morning I know I’ve got the pitches, but which one will work, I won’t
know ‘til we begin.”
We sat in silence watching Stella, admiring her energy, strength,
and physique. She caught us looking and came onto the porch.
“Don’t you two throw tires every morning?”
“Well, actually, no.” I laughed. “You ready to make our case?” late
yesterday afternoon Stella finally discovered who had hacked into our
computers.
“Ready as I’ll ever be. Think I’ll get the chance?”
“Honestly, I don’t know. All I can tell you is to be ready. At least it’s
not a trial where potential witnesses have to sit outside the courtroom
unable to hear anything else. You’ll have a front row seat.”
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“Do I have to dress conservatively, like Debbie?”
“Wear whatever makes you comfortable, but don’t turn off a con-
servative judge,” I answered.
Just then a car pulled up into the parking area. Clovis went out to
meet it and came back with a package. I opened it and smiled. It was
a digital recorder.
“Stella, after you shower and clean up, I want you and Clovis to go
over the contents of this package and give me a summary. If it’s what I
think it is, I’ll figure out the best way to present it. You have less than
an hour.”
Micki emerged from the kitchen with a steaming cup of coffee,
finally looking healthy and very stylish in a red suit I’d seen before. I
gave her a slight bow.
“once again, Ms. lawrence, I’m just proud to be part of your fan
club.”
“You are so full of shit.” She laughed.
“I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to see you strong enough to
join us. I’ve been worried.”
“I know you have, and you’ve been doing all the heavy lifting. Any
chance you can pull this off?”
“You mean success? or just making a fool of myself?” I quipped.
“Aren’t they the same thing?” The verbal jousting felt good to us
both.
Pretty soon we were all ready to meet the day. Clovis gave me the
high sign, and Micki and I joined him and Stella in the living room.
After Clovis summarized what was on the recorder, Stella turned it on
and we listened intently. Micki gave me a wide smile and a thumbs-up.
I returned the gesture, knowing I had a long way to go before I could
use this gift from such an unlikely source.
I usually preferred to appear in court with only Maggie by my side,
encouraging the visual of a lone lawyer with one assistant against
a team of antitrust lawyers. This time I had my own team: Maggie,
Micki, Walter, Clovis, Debbie, Paul, and Stella. I halfway expected to
see eric—and where was liz?
We arrived to a packed courtroom. Fortunately, Micki had asked
the bailiff to reserve the row right behind the rail for our team. Dub
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and his entourage hadn’t arrived yet, of course. The usual tables had
been reserved for attorneys, but the atmosphere was totally different
from that of a normal day in court. Along with the usual courthouse
junkies and curious on-lookers, I saw a group of silent, impeccably
dressed men in custom-tailored suits: the enemy, no doubt. I also
caught sight of several less refined gents, probably car dealers, arguing
among themselves. Cheryl’s camera crews had organized themselves
in the back of the courtroom, and Cheryl was barking orders. Marshal
Maroney sat at a table in front of the judge’s bench along with a court
reporter.
liz sailed in at the last minute, nodded to a couple of people she
knew, and sat down next to Maggie. To my relief, she looked every
inch the aggrieved party.
Sam had gotten permission to sit in the jury box along with several
curious clerks. Sitting next to him were Assistant U.S. Attorney Rodney
Fitzhugh and Peggy Fortson. After we’d gotten settled, I walked over,
offering my hand to all.
“Peggy, you’re a sight for sore eyes, but a complete surprise. To
what do I owe this pleasure?”
“When I told the attorney general about our lunch conversation,
he asked, ‘What are you doing here?’ I told him you were dreaming,
that there was nothing to your theory. He cocked an eyebrow and said,
‘I’ve agreed not to interfere, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to turn
a blind eye. If you don’t think it’s worth the trip, I’ll send someone
else.’ I decided I’d better hightail it down here if I wanted to keep my
job. Rodney and Sam have filled me in on what’s happened so far. If
you’re wasting my time, Jack Patterson, you owe me two dinners.”
I smiled and left them to confer. Peggy and Sam were still working
on the aftermath of the Cole case, so they had plenty to talk about. I
hoped I would need them again.
All smiles, Dub’s team strode in and seated themselves at the table
next to ours. Dub confidently took the chair closest to mine, point-
edly turning his back to me. No handshakes on this day. At the strike
of ten, Judge Houston entered the courtroom. It occurred to me that
the clock, or to be precise, timing, could be a useful tool in the game
of power. The size of the crowd seemed to take the judge aback. He
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looked a little uncomfortable in street clothes, and it seemed odd not
to hear the “all rise.” He shuffled some papers on his desk and cleared
his throat loudly. The chattering voices ceased expectantly.
“All right. let me say for the record that this is not an official
court proceeding. The U.S. marshal is here to conduct a sale of assets
pursuant to federal drug forfeiture laws. I am here at the request of
defense counsel. My role is entirely that of an observer.” liz jumped
up on cue.
“Actually, Your Honor, it’s at my request. Thank you. I feel much
better knowing you’re here.” liz played her role perfectly. She was
well-dressed in a cream escada suit and Cole Haan heels. Judge
Houston looked a bit flustered, but pleased just the same. Dub’s crew
radiated a collective look of disgust.
The judge continued. “Thank you, Mrs. Stewart, but perhaps you
should take your seat. Mr. Blanchard’s office has asked me to allow
cameras in court for this auction. Against my better judgment, I’ve
granted his request. I take it you have no objection, Mr. Patterson?”
Micki rose. “We have no objection, Your Honor. We don’t under-
stand the media’s interest, but have no objection.”
“Ms. lawrence. I apologize for not calling on you to begin with.
Welcome back. Do I take it you are acting as counsel?” The judge
seemed genuinely glad to see Micki.
“Thank you, your Honor. Actually, I’m lead counsel in Dr. Stew-
art’s criminal case, if I can call it that, since he has yet to be formally
charged with anything. Since my co-counsel, Mr. Patterson, made the
agreement with the prosecution regarding this auction, he’ll repre-
sent Dr. and Mrs. Stewart solely for this purpose.” I knew this would
cause a buzz from Dub’s team. We hoped to make them wonder if
Micki and I’d been fighting about the agreement to auction the assets.
on cue, Bullock was on his feet. “Your Honor, we have a deal with
Mr. Patterson regarding the sale of assets belonging to Dr. Stewart. I
hope counsel for the defense doesn’t intend to renege. Whoever buys
the assets needs to know they have clear title.”
He fell right in, and Micki pounced.
“Your Honor, our clients have every intention of honoring the agree-
ment. Nothing has changed in that regard. I assume the government
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will honor its commitment as well. The winning bidder walks away
with clear title. For example, if Ms. Stewart is the high bidder for the
Healy, the car is hers regardless of how low the bid. Am I right, Mr.
Bullock?”
“Absolutely.” Bullock seemed relieved.
“All right, counsels. This is an auction, not a hearing. Marshal
Maroney, you may proceed. Again, I’m only here to observe.” Judge
Houston sat down heavily.
Maroney stood up and said. “As you all know, the rules have been
published. In summary we will auction by lots. As published, the win-
ning bidder must present to me cash, a certified check, or letter of
credit for at least ten percent of the bid and has thirty days to come
up with the total amount. At any time a bidder may require another
bidder to provide evidence of his ability to meet this requirement.
Traditionally, I’m the judge of the sufficiency of a letter of credit. In
this case all proceeds go into the U.S. Treasury. Any questions?”
Maroney looked around the room. No questions. “The first item
is a 1965 Austin Healy 3000. The automobile has been available for
inspection. Do I have an opening bid of five hundred dollars?”
liz waited until the bidding from a couple of auto dealers reached
three thousand dollars, and then raised her hand, just as planned.
“I bid five thousand dollars.”
There was a murmur from the crowd, but no response from the
dealers.
“Sold to Mrs. Stewart for five thousand,” Maroney announced. “Mr.
Patterson delivered a letter of credit from Ms. Stewart’s bank to me
