A Matter of Life and Death Read online

  Robin smiled but didn’t comment.

  “So,” Hennessey said, “are you here to negotiate a plea?”

  “I was hoping we could work out an agreement that would let Ms. Stassen avoid a criminal record. This is her first offense, and she has a good job. A conviction could lead to her losing it.”

  “This is the first time Mr. Stassen was caught.” Hennessey smiled. “And yeah, I know your client is a man, and I bet he’s offered to give blow jobs for dough more than just this once.”

  “I’ve talked to several people about men who change their sex. Erika—”

  “Eric,” Hennessey corrected Robin.

  Robin didn’t want to get in a fight over a pronoun, so she decided to refer to Erika as a male until she got what she wanted.

  “He didn’t engage in sex for the money.”

  Hennessey tuned out when Robin explained what she had learned from her research, and he smirked when Robin was finished.

  “You can make that argument to a jury. Maybe it’ll fly. But the way I see it, your client engaged in sex for dough. That’s prostitution. The case is open and shut. Have him plead guilty and I’ll go along with probation, but that’s all I’m willing to offer.”

  Robin looked frustrated, and Ian gave a mental fist pump.

  “I’m sorry you feel that way,” Robin said. “I guess we’ll have to go to trial.”

  “Guess so. See you in court, Counselor.”

  Ian waited until Robin left the conference room and was out of sight before breaking into a grin. That had gone very, very well, Ian told himself. This case would be an easy notch on his gun and a big boost to his reputation.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Anthony Carasco stayed an extra day in San Francisco while Stacey Hayes considered his offer to get rid of her warrants, install her in an upscale love nest, and give her an allowance that would let her live a life of leisure. Two weeks after Carasco returned to his duties on the bench, Hayes moved to the Grandview, a luxurious apartment on the Willamette River with a view of the mountains through floor-to-ceiling windows.

  Carasco couldn’t get enough of Hayes. The afternoon after she moved to Portland, the judge told his wife that he would be home late. Then he dismissed a case on the flimsiest of grounds so he could spend the day in Hayes’s bed. From that day on, Carasco was either with Hayes, fantasizing about her, or devising excuses for being away from home so he could go to her.

  Sometimes, Carasco would wake up at night and sneak into the bathroom to text Hayes. That’s what he was doing when the bathroom door opened and Betsy stormed in. Carasco tried to hide his phone, but Betsy caught him.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded.

  “Nothing,” Carasco stammered. “I couldn’t sleep, so I was reading sports news.”

  Betsy glared at her husband. “Let me see that.”

  “There’s nothing to see,” the judge said as he struggled to shut down the phone.

  Betsy took a step toward her husband, and he backed into the glass wall of the shower.

  “I know what you’re up to, Tony. Now show me the phone.”

  Carasco hesitated, and Betsy lunged for the hand that held the phone. Carasco thrust out his other hand. It slammed into Betsy’s shoulder and threw her off balance. She was barefoot and she slipped on the tiled floor and fell on her backside.

  Betsy’s mouth opened in shock. Then she flushed with rage. Carasco stuffed the phone in the pocket of his bathrobe and reached for his wife. Betsy slapped his hand away.

  “I’m sick of this. If you want your whore this badly, get out of my bed and go fuck her.”

  “There isn’t anyone, Betsy. I love you.”

  “Bullshit. That’s what this marriage is, and I’m not putting up with it anymore.”

  “What … what do you mean?”

  Betsy struggled to her feet. “You’ll find out soon enough. You can sleep in the guest room from now on.”

  Betsy stomped out of the bathroom and slammed the door behind her. Carasco slumped down on the toilet. This could end badly if Betsy went to a divorce lawyer. But there had been blowups like this before, and he’d been able to get back in his wife’s good graces by humbling himself and cutting his ties with the woman he was seeing. He could definitely humble himself to keep his opulent lifestyle and her political influence, but Carasco could not imagine giving up Stacey Hayes.

  Carasco waited until he thought it was safe to leave the bathroom and go to the guest room without inciting a new screaming fit. While he waited, the judge weighed his options. There was one he’d considered in the past and rejected as too radical. But if Betsy started divorce proceedings, it might be the only viable option.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  As soon as Robin agreed to take Erika Stassen’s case, she started reading about gender reassignment surgery, which used to be referred to as sex change operations, and the psychological problems encountered by the people undergoing them. Then she talked to the doctors, social workers, and psychologists who were working with Erika. When she felt she had enough information, she had arranged the meeting with Ian Hennessey.

  Before meeting with the young DA, Robin had asked other defense attorneys about him. The few attorneys who’d had the misfortune of trying cases against Hennessey told Robin that he had an overinflated view of his abilities and didn’t prepare his cases. That led to amateur mistakes brought on by overconfidence.

  Robin had been frustrated when she’d left Hennessey’s office, but she’d held out hope that the judge assigned to the case would talk sense into the young zealot. Then she learned that the case had been assigned to Anthony Carasco.

  Robin had never had a case in Carasco’s court, but the criminal defense bar in Portland was a tight-knit group, and his reputation had made the rounds. Carasco had started his career in the DA’s office, where he was known as a brilliant prosecutor who could not be trusted. There were numerous stories about exculpatory evidence that had been concealed from the defense and questionable courtroom tactics. But the most disturbing rumors concerned cases Carasco had lost because key evidence had disappeared or a witness had changed his story under suspicious circumstances. These losses were infrequent, but they usually involved high-level drug dealers, members of biker gangs, or prominent, wealthy citizens.

  A year ago, Carasco announced that he was going to challenge Molly Devereaux, a very popular judge, for a seat on the Multnomah County Circuit Court. Carasco’s campaign had been vicious, and there were rumors of campaign irregularities. When Carasco unseated Devereaux, he proceeded to earn the same bad reputation as a jurist he’d had as an attorney. He was a tyrant in court who was not above upbraiding an attorney in front of a jury. Though intelligent, he was also lazy and would rule on complex motions without reading the memos submitted by the attorneys. Few lawyers who had appeared in Carasco’s court had anything good to say about him.

  * * *

  Carasco was sitting in a courtroom on the fifth floor of the Multnomah County Courthouse, a brutish, eight-story concrete building that took up an entire block between Fourth and Fifth and Main and Salmon in downtown Portland. Mark Berman, Robin, and Erika took the elevator to the fifth floor. When they rounded the corner, Robin spotted a well-dressed, middle-aged African American woman sitting on a bench outside the courtroom.

  “Thanks for coming, Dr. Langford,” Robin said.

  “I hope I can help,” Langford answered. Then she smiled at Stassen. “How are you feeling, Erika?”

  “I’m pretty nervous.”

  “I’d be surprised if you weren’t.”

  “Let’s go inside,” Robin said.

  Carasco’s courtroom had high ceilings, ornate molding, marble Corinthian columns, and a polished wood dais. The spectator section consisted of several rows of hard wooden benches set back behind a low wooden fence that separated the public from the judge, jury, and attorneys.

  Erika’s case was not high profile, so the only spectators were a few retirees who sat in
on trials for entertainment. Mark Berman was along for moral support, and he and Dr. Langford took seats in the front row of the spectator section while Robin walked Erika through the bar of the court and seated her at the defense table.

  “Wait here,” Robin told her client. “I’m going to see if we can settle this without a trial.”

  Ian Hennessey was seated across from Carasco in the judge’s chambers. They stopped talking when the bailiff opened the door for Robin.

  “Ah, Ms. Lockwood,” the judge said. “Come on in, and let’s see what we can do here.”

  “Thanks, Judge.”

  Carasco studied Robin for a moment. “I don’t think we’ve met before, but your name sounds familiar.”

  Robin was certain that the judge was going to bring up her career as a professional fighter. Then he smiled and said, “You endorsed my opponent, Molly Devereaux, when I ran against her. Am I right?”

  The inappropriate remark shocked Robin, but trial lawyers train themselves to show no emotion when the unexpected happens.

  “Molly is a friend,” she answered, flashing her own smile.

  “Of course,” the judge said. “So, Ian, have you made Ms. Lockwood a reasonable offer?”

  “I think so. We have her client dead to rights. Officer Balske is a ten-year veteran who was undercover posing as a john. He’ll testify that the defendant offered to exchange oral sex for money. When Balske accepted, Ms. Lockwood’s client started to unzip Officer Balske’s fly, and Balske arrested him. I told Ms. Lockwood I would recommend probation if her client pleaded guilty, but she rejected the offer.”

  “The offer seems reasonable,” Carasco said. “Why did you turn it down?”

  “My client is a CPA with a good job and no priors. Very shortly, he will be going through gender reassignment surgery. I’m sure you can appreciate the stress he’s under. His firm is very supportive, but a conviction, even for a misdemeanor, could cost him his job. I was hoping for a plea that involved diversion and a dismissal if he successfully completes the requirements of diversion.”

  “What do you say to that, Ian?” the judge asked.

  “No go. I’m sure Stassen has been prostituting himself for a while.”

  “He told me that he has never been in a situation like this before,” Robin said.

  “I’d expect him to say that.”

  “Do you have any evidence to the contrary?”

  “Look, Robin, it’s plead or go to trial.”

  “Then we’ll go to trial,” Robin said.

  “You might want to take some time to think about how you’re going to advise your client, Robin,” the judge said. “He could be facing jail if he insists on wasting the time of the court with a hopeless case.”

  “We don’t think it’s hopeless, Judge.”

  “From what Ian said, it sounds open and shut.”

  “We’ll let the jury decide that.”

  Carasco shrugged. “Okay. Going to trial is a decision your client has to make. But you should make it clear to him that jail is a real possibility, and I don’t think someone going through a sex change would do very well in jail with all those predators.”

  Carasco’s unethical and insensitive comments infuriated Robin, but she controlled her temper. “I don’t think it’s appropriate to prejudge a sentence before hearing the facts.”

  Carasco smiled and held out his hands in a show of innocence. “I have no opinion on a sentence. How could I? As you said, I haven’t heard the evidence. I’m just advising you about one possible outcome if your client insists on a trial.”

  Robin decided that she had to get out of Carasco’s chambers before she said something she would regret.

  “Let me talk to my client and see what she wants to do.”

  “Good,” said Carasco. “Unless I hear you’ve accepted Ian’s offer, I’ll call for a jury in twenty minutes.”

  Hennessey waited until the door closed behind Robin. “Judge, I’m pretty new at this. After the trial, would you have the time to tell me what I did right and wrong?”

  Carasco was about to turn down the request, when he got an idea. “Sure, Ian,” Carasco said. “We can talk after everyone leaves.”

  Hennessey walked out, and Carasco looked in his direction, but he wasn’t really seeing him. What he did see was a future where he was free of his wife.

  The judge and Hennessey had chatted while they waited for Robin, and Carasco learned that Hennessey was single. As soon as he’d found out that Robin Lockwood was representing the defendant, the judge had planned to punish her for supporting Devereaux by making this trial as hard for her as possible, but now he changed his mind. He decided to let the trial run its course. It might even work to his advantage if Lockwood won. After giving his idea more thought, Carasco phoned Stacey Hayes.

  * * *

  “What happened?” Erika asked.

  “I’ll tell you in a minute, but I’d like to get Mark’s input before we discuss what we should do,” Robin answered with a smile that betrayed none of the emotions she was feeling when she left Carasco’s chambers.

  Mark followed Robin into the corridor outside the courtroom. Several lawyers were in the hall talking to each other or their clients. Robin walked down the hall toward the back of the courthouse and around a corner into a deserted hallway.

  Mark rounded the corner. His partner looked furious.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Carasco is an unethical prick,” Robin spat out.

  “Whoa! What brought that on?”

  Robin told Mark what had happened in chambers.

  “I have half a mind to report that asshole to the Judicial Fitness Commission,” she said. “What if I were a new attorney and he threatened to put Erika in jail if I didn’t force her to plead guilty?”

  “You would have stood your ground.”

  “Others wouldn’t.”

  “Look, Robin, Carasco can weasel out of any accusation you make. He’ll tell the commission what he told you in chambers; that he was just informing you about a possible outcome but hadn’t jumped to any conclusion about sentencing because he was going to keep an open mind until he heard the evidence.”

  “What about that crack about me endorsing Molly?”

  “Hey, I’m not saying Carasco isn’t an asshole. That’s his rep. I’m just saying that you won’t win if you report him, and you might have to go in front of him again. I know you’re tough enough, but it’s your client who’ll suffer if he decides to screw you because you reported him.”

  Robin’s shoulders sagged, and she sighed. “You’re probably right.”

  “I am right,” Mark insisted. “Carasco is bad news, but the State of Oregon is stuck with him until the next election. So, what are you going to tell Erika to do?”

  “Go to trial, of course. I don’t plead innocent clients.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  “The State calls Curtis Balske, Your Honor,” Ian Hennessey said.

  The bailiff went into the hall and returned with a handsome, square-jawed man with wavy blond hair and a thick mustache, who looked like he belonged on a recruiting poster for the police academy. Robin had read his police report, and it seemed objective. She hoped he was an unbiased witness, because the report gave her hope.

  As soon as Balske took the oath, Hennessey established that he was a decorated police officer assigned to Vice, who had volunteered to go undercover, pretending to be a man interested in purchasing sex.

  “On Friday, May 13, did you encounter the defendant?” Hennessey asked.

  “I did.”

  “Please tell the jury where you met him and what happened.”

  Balske turned to the jurors. “We had received information that prostitutes were operating in the Gold Piece nightclub. I went undercover to see if I could verify our intel. A little after eleven, the defendant struck up a conversation with me at the bar.”

  “What name did the defendant give you?”

  “Erika.”

 
“What did you believe the defendant’s sex to be?”

  “Female.”

  “When did you learn that the defendant is really a man?”

  “After I arrested him.”

  “Thank you, Officer Balske. Please continue.”

  “At some point during our conversation, the defendant started talking about sex.”

  “He brought up the subject?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “What type of sex did he discuss?”

  “Oral.”

  “Go on.”

  “The defendant said that I was handsome and that he felt a connection. Then he said that he enjoyed oral sex and asked if I liked it. I said that my wife didn’t like oral sex but I did and that I’d paid as much as fifty dollars for oral sex. At that point, the defendant said that we should go into an alley next to the parking lot, where we could have some privacy.”

  “What happened in the alley?”

  “As soon as we got there, the defendant started to open my zipper. That’s when I displayed my badge and told him that he was under arrest.”

  “What did the defendant say to that?”

  “He seemed shocked, and he asked why I was arresting him. I told him he was under arrest for prostitution.”

  “How did the defendant react?”

  “He started crying. He said that he didn’t know he was committing a crime and begged me to let him go. Then he said that he was a CPA and he would lose his job if I arrested him. I told him I couldn’t let him go and that we had to go to the station so he could be booked in. That’s when he told me that he was a man going through a sex change. He was terrified that he would be raped if I put him in jail.”

  “What did you tell him?” Hennessey asked.

  “I told the defendant that I would make sure he wouldn’t have to stay in jail. He thanked me, and I took him to my car and drove downtown, where I booked him in and let him go.”

  “Thank you, Officer. No further questions.”