Free Blind Justice by James Scott Bell Page A

judge hears the prosecution’s evidence and decides if there is “probable cause” to send the defendant to Superior Court for trial.
    I didn’t tell them I had no intention of conducting a preliminary hearing but was here only to get the quickest and best deal I could before the morning was out.
    Lindsay seemed glad to see me. “Why aren’t you teaching?” I asked.
    “I got the day off to be here. I wanted to support Howie.”
    “I can’t promise any breakthrough.”
    She put her hand on my arm and said, “I know. I know you’ll do what you think is best.”
    I excused myself and joined Sylvia Plotzske at her counsel table. She actually looked pleased to see me. “I’ve got good news for you,” she said.
    “Oh?”
    “Tolletson will drop this to voluntary manslaughter.”
    “You’re kidding.” I was stunned. This was great news, better than I could have hoped. Considering Howie had never been in major trouble before, he would probably end up with no more than three years in prison.
    “The only thing,” Sylvia Plotzske said, “is that the offer is good now. If we go to prelim, it’s off the table, and we go for first degree.”
    A no-brainer. I was sure the Patinos would understand. At least the parents would. So I told them. Janet and Fred nodded at each other. “It seems the best we can expect,” Fred said.
    “Yes,” I said.
    Lindsay looked more disheartened than angry. Maybe she had finally realized the inevitable. But she shook her head slowly and muttered, “He didn’t do it. He just didn’t do it.”
    It was now 8:55, and the judge would soon be taking the bench. It was decision time. A sheriff brought Howie in from the lockup and sat him down at the defense table. Howie winced a little, probably because of his side. But then he turned and gave a small smile and wave to his family. Janet Patino started crying.
    I was just about to explain the deal to Howie when my cell phone bleeped in my briefcase.
    “Hey, man, it’s a beautiful day at the beach!” Cyril Cornelius Carr said.
    “I’m in court, Trip.”
    “I know. You’re about to strike a deal, right?”
    “So?”
    “So don’t do it.”
    I looked around as if people could hear him and then cupped my hand over my mouth and turned my back to Howie. “What are you talking about?”
    “I got down here early to catch the surfers. Surf’s lousy today though.”
    I could hear the sound of waves breaking in the background. In a vigorous whisper, I said, “What are you talking about?”
    “I’m talking about one of the surfers, a guy by the name of Chip Delliplane. He’s pretty good on a board. He also saw something the night of the murder.”
    I couldn’t believe this was happening. A surprise witness? Now? “I thought I told you to drop this.”
    “I just didn’t feel good about that, Jake. Something didn’t smell right. So I talked to Delliplane. Got his name from a friendly bartender at the edge of town.”
    “So what’s he say?”
    “He says he was riding his bike toward the Patino house that night, and it was right around the time of the murder. He heard a scream, stopped, and started to turn around. Just before he did, he saw somebody running from the house.”
    All breath left me for a moment. I sucked in some air. “Why -didn’t he go to the cops and tell them all this?”
    “Because he didn’t want his parents to find out.”
    “Find out what?”
    “That he was having an affair with Rae Patino.”
    At that moment the bailiff told everyone in the courtroom to rise. Judge Abovian was entering the courtroom. I stood up with everyone else, but I was alone in holding a phone to my ear with my mouth hanging open.
    “Jake? Jake?”
    “Hold on,” I said.
    The judge, who was about forty-five, wore a trimmed moustache under a roundish nose. He might have looked jovial if he smiled. He didn’t smile. He looked at me and said, “I don’t allow cell calls in my courtroom.”
    “Um . . .” I said eloquently, “if,