Read Online Joe Dillard - 02 - In Good Faith by Scott Pratt - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Scott Pratt
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me into his office and outlined the case for me. We both agreed that the judge had acted improperly, that there was no factual basis for the charge, and that the district attorney’s office should recommend immediate dismissal.
“Would you mind handling it in court?” Mooney had said. “I don’t want to get myself into the same situation as Bates.”
“I’d be happy to,” I said. “Judge Glass is one of my least-favorite people on the planet.”
Judge Ivan Glass and I had battled each other for more than a decade when I was practicing criminal defense. I’d successfully sued him when I was a rookie to make him stop jailing people who couldn’t afford to pay their fines and court costs, and he’d returned the favor by making me and my clients miserable at every opportunity. A little over a year earlier, he’d attempted to send my sister to the penitentiary for six years. I managed to keep him from doing so, but the hard feelings still lingered.
The day of the hearing on the Sheriff Bates contempt charge had arrived, and Bates was in my office for some last-minute counseling. I’d talked to him several times over the past forty-eight hours, and had come to genuinely like him. He was a tall, sturdy man in his mid-forties with light brown hair, brown eyes, a slightly crooked nose, and a mischievous grin. He was as country as they came, but he had a keen mind and a no-nonsense attitude when it came to law enforcement. Bates had been in office for less than two years, but his department had already made more drug arrests than his predecessor did during his entire eight-year term. He’d also begun to take on the local underground gambling industry, a move that was unprecedented in northeast Tennessee.
“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate y’all doing this,” Bates said. “I was afraid I was gonna have to go out and hire me some shark defense lawyer. Just like you used to be.”
“No offense taken,” I said, “and I’m glad to do it. It’ll feel good to put Glass in his place for a change.”
“He’s gonna be one pissed-off hombre , especially with all the folks I’ve got coming.”
I’d asked Sheriff Bates whether he could pack the courtroom. He was a popular sheriff, and since the judge was also a politician, I thought things might go a bit more smoothly if Glass had to face a courtroom full of constituents.
“How many are coming?” I said.
“I reckon there’ll be quite a few.”
“Almost time. Are you ready to go?”
“I’m nervous as a whore in church, but I’m ready.”
“Just let me do all the talking.”
I led Bates out the door and down the hall to the back steps. We walked in silence until I went through the side door into the courtroom.
“Wow,” I said. “This’ll shake him up.”
The courtroom was packed with the good citizens of Washington County. Every seat was occupied, people were standing against both of the side walls, and there was a line outside the door. As soon as Bates walked in, everyone stood and a loud round of applause broke out. The door to the judge’s chamber was closed, but I saw Glass peek out to see what all the commotion was about. His clerk had already taken her spot next to the bench, and the bailiffs were at their stations.
“Let’s sit here,” I said to the sheriff, pointing to the table traditionally used by the defense.
We sat down, as did everyone else in the courtroom. There was an eerie silence while everyone waited for the judge to appear. After several minutes, the door to his chambers opened and Glass, wearing his ancient black robe that was frayed around the sleeves, hobbled carefully up the steps to his bench as the bailiff called court into session. I hadn’t seen him for more than a year, and I was pleased to see that he looked awful. His face was colorless and gaunt, and his mane of white hair—of which he’d always been so proud—had lost its luster. Before, he’d carried himself as a smug adjudicator, one who
“Would you mind handling it in court?” Mooney had said. “I don’t want to get myself into the same situation as Bates.”
“I’d be happy to,” I said. “Judge Glass is one of my least-favorite people on the planet.”
Judge Ivan Glass and I had battled each other for more than a decade when I was practicing criminal defense. I’d successfully sued him when I was a rookie to make him stop jailing people who couldn’t afford to pay their fines and court costs, and he’d returned the favor by making me and my clients miserable at every opportunity. A little over a year earlier, he’d attempted to send my sister to the penitentiary for six years. I managed to keep him from doing so, but the hard feelings still lingered.
The day of the hearing on the Sheriff Bates contempt charge had arrived, and Bates was in my office for some last-minute counseling. I’d talked to him several times over the past forty-eight hours, and had come to genuinely like him. He was a tall, sturdy man in his mid-forties with light brown hair, brown eyes, a slightly crooked nose, and a mischievous grin. He was as country as they came, but he had a keen mind and a no-nonsense attitude when it came to law enforcement. Bates had been in office for less than two years, but his department had already made more drug arrests than his predecessor did during his entire eight-year term. He’d also begun to take on the local underground gambling industry, a move that was unprecedented in northeast Tennessee.
“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate y’all doing this,” Bates said. “I was afraid I was gonna have to go out and hire me some shark defense lawyer. Just like you used to be.”
“No offense taken,” I said, “and I’m glad to do it. It’ll feel good to put Glass in his place for a change.”
“He’s gonna be one pissed-off hombre , especially with all the folks I’ve got coming.”
I’d asked Sheriff Bates whether he could pack the courtroom. He was a popular sheriff, and since the judge was also a politician, I thought things might go a bit more smoothly if Glass had to face a courtroom full of constituents.
“How many are coming?” I said.
“I reckon there’ll be quite a few.”
“Almost time. Are you ready to go?”
“I’m nervous as a whore in church, but I’m ready.”
“Just let me do all the talking.”
I led Bates out the door and down the hall to the back steps. We walked in silence until I went through the side door into the courtroom.
“Wow,” I said. “This’ll shake him up.”
The courtroom was packed with the good citizens of Washington County. Every seat was occupied, people were standing against both of the side walls, and there was a line outside the door. As soon as Bates walked in, everyone stood and a loud round of applause broke out. The door to the judge’s chamber was closed, but I saw Glass peek out to see what all the commotion was about. His clerk had already taken her spot next to the bench, and the bailiffs were at their stations.
“Let’s sit here,” I said to the sheriff, pointing to the table traditionally used by the defense.
We sat down, as did everyone else in the courtroom. There was an eerie silence while everyone waited for the judge to appear. After several minutes, the door to his chambers opened and Glass, wearing his ancient black robe that was frayed around the sleeves, hobbled carefully up the steps to his bench as the bailiff called court into session. I hadn’t seen him for more than a year, and I was pleased to see that he looked awful. His face was colorless and gaunt, and his mane of white hair—of which he’d always been so proud—had lost its luster. Before, he’d carried himself as a smug adjudicator, one who
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