Dog Tags

CHAPTER 17

DETECTIVE CARL OAKES LOOKS LIKE HE WOULD RATHER BE ANYWHERE ELSE BUT ON THE STAND. His body language and facial expressions seem to indicate that taking his time up on a matter as trivial as this is beneath his dignity. As his adversary, that gives me an advantage, because nothing is beneath my dignity.

“Detective Oakes, you personally gave the order for Milo to be incarcerated in the Passaic County Animal Shelter?”

“It wasn’t an order. It was a request.”

“Did he bite anyone?” I ask.

“Not that I know of,” he says.

“Have you ever made a request like this before?”

“When we arrest someone who has an animal, and there is no one to care for it, it is turned over to the shelter.”

“You personally do that?” I ask.

“Not usually.”

“Ever?”

“I don’t recall,” he says, obviously annoyed.

“Why did you personally make the request in this case?”

“I told you. There was no one to care for the dog.”

That doesn’t come close to answering my question, but I let it go.

“So if I told you I was Milo’s new owner, and that I would care for him, that would alleviate your concern and you would tell the shelter you no longer wanted him held there?”

“I didn’t say that. The dog committed a theft.”

I smile. “Milo is a crook?”

“He committed a theft.”

“Okay, now we’re getting somewhere.” I introduce as evidence the letter I got from Eli, confirming that Milo was being held because of the robbery.

After I read it out loud, I ask Oakes if he agrees with it.

“I do,” he says.

“So now the police and prosecutor are on record as saying that Milo is in jail because he committed a theft. Has he ever been arrested or charged before?”

Oakes can’t conceal his disgust with my questions. “Come on…,” he says.

“Is that a no? Has he ever been arrested or charged before?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Not a member of organized crime? Not part of a canine Cosa Nostra?”

Oakes is not about to be humiliated, so he turns to Judge Catchings for help. “Judge…”

I turn to Judge Catchings as well. “Your Honor, we’ve established that this is Milo’s first arrest. Bail for a first-time offender is certainly warranted. And he can be released on my recognizance; I will assume full responsibility for his future actions.”

“I’ll reserve judgment on that,” he says. “Continue.” Then he adds, sternly, “In a serious manner.”

Before I can ask another question, Oakes says, “The dog is a danger to the community. He could keep stealing things; that’s how he’s been trained.”

“Where was he trained?”

“At the police academy.”

“He learned to be a thief at the police academy?” I ask, and the fifteen or so spectators in the gallery laugh.

Oakes doesn’t seem inclined to answer that question, so I ask another one. “Detective, why is an armed guard stationed outside Milo’s cage?”

“I can’t say,” he mumbles, obviously uncomfortable with the subject.

“You don’t know, or you feel you shouldn’t say?” I ask.

“I can’t say.” His emphasis is on “can’t.”

“Do you want to use a lifeline? Maybe phone a friend?”

Eli objects that I’m being disrespectful to the witness, which I never knew was an official objection, but the judge sustains it anyway, and asks me to rephrase.

“At taxpayers’ expense, an officer is sitting in an animal shelter twenty-four hours a day, and you can’t tell us why?”

“No.”

I turn to Judge Catchings. “Your Honor…”

“Detective Oakes,” he says, “you’re going to have to do better than that.”

Oakes thinks about it for a few moments and then says, “We received a request from the federal authorities.”

Pete was right; the feds are somehow in on this. What is puzzling to me is why they would go to such lengths to guard Milo, but then take no action to intervene in this hearing.

Neither the judge nor Eli seems to know what to make of this, and I certainly can’t shed any light on it. Catchings lets Oakes off the hook, accepting the cryptic reference to the feds as his final answer. I wish I could probe more, but he won’t let me.

My final witness is Juliet Corsinita, a dog trainer whose home and office are in Teaneck, but who has developed a geographically wide clientele. She has a local TV show in which she dispenses training tips, and her dry sense of humor and easy way with dogs have earned her quite a following.

Juliet has a training camp of sorts on her property, and people bring their animals to her for six weeks of “boot camp” during which they learn pretty much all a dog can learn. I’ve watched her in action, and the training is done with love and care; there is no fear or punishment, and certainly no physical violence involved.

As soon as Juliet is called, Eli stands up to object. “Your Honor, I fail to see the relevance. It is my understanding that Ms. Corsinita, whatever her qualifications, has never worked with the dog in question, and has no direct knowledge of the incident itself.”

Eli has obviously had his staff do quick homework on this; when he saw Juliet’s name on the witness list, he must have had someone question her in advance of her appearance.

“Your Honor,” I say, “Ms. Corsinita is being called to testify about my client’s state of mind.” This draws a roar from the gallery and a loud laugh and thigh slap from Willie, whom I will have to admonish about correct conduct at the defense table.

Eli has to stifle a smile himself, and he says, “Your Honor, this has moved from the ridiculous to the bizarre.”

The judge turns to me and asks, “How can Ms. Corsinita possibly testify to this dog’s state of mind? And why is that relevant?”

“Your Honor, Ms. Corsinita is an expert on dogs and how they think. She has studied Milo’s history, and will be able to inform the court substantially as to the general way that a dog in his situation would react. If the court feels it is unhelpful, it can certainly disregard her point of view. There is no jury impact to worry about.”

“It’s a waste of the court’s time,” Eli says. “And it has the potential to further send this proceeding into chaos.”

Judge Catchings stares daggers at Eli; apparently he doesn’t like being accused of running a chaotic courtroom.

“Your Honor,” I say, “I think everyone will agree that Milo is being held on a simple charge of theft. The prosecutor and arresting officer have admitted it. In such cases, when it is a first offense, there are two factors among those to consider as it relates to bail or an outright acquittal. First, is the accused a continuing threat to the community? And second, is he a flight risk?”

Now Judge Catchings turns his withering stare at me. “You do not need to educate the court.”

“I know that, Your Honor. But there is another factor that I would also ask you to consider. In order to be ultimately convicted of this crime, the accused has to know the difference between right and wrong. Ms. Corsinita can help with that.”

Eli jumps from his chair; this is too much. “Right and wrong? He’s a dog!”

“I think Your Honor is already aware of the species we are talking about.”

Judge Catchings shakes his head, probably unhappy with how far afield this has gotten. But the train has left the tracks, and there’s no stopping it now. “I’ll allow the witness,” he says.

Juliet describes the type of training that Milo would have had at the police academy, and I get her to focus on the specific manner in which he was taught to grab weapons out of the hands of dangerous criminals.

“So his job was to take deadly weapons out of the hands of criminals who were using them to threaten people?”

“That’s correct,” she says.

“So he’s a hero?” I ask, and before Eli can voice an objection, Juliet says, “In my mind he certainly is.”

“So let’s assume for the sake of argument that after he left the police force, he was trained to take other items from people who were holding them. Though this is strictly hypothetical, would that have been an easy thing to teach him?”

“Very. I could do it in a day.”

“If he then used that training and took certain items, as directed, would he think he was doing something wrong?”

“Certainly not. That was his training. He would expect and deserve praise.”

“Thank you. Now regarding his future danger to society, what is your view on that?”

She hesitates. “Well, if the person who trained him had control and directed him to steal in the same fashion, he would do that.”

“What if he were under my control, and I gave no such instructions?”

“Then he wouldn’t do it.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive.”

I turn Juliet over to Eli, who gets her to admit that dogs don’t always behave in completely predictable ways. It’s not exactly a stunning admission, and doesn’t harm our case in any appreciable way, unless the judge is predisposed against us.

Eli has put in an uncharacteristically weak effort. I attribute this to a basic indifference to whether Milo is kept in the shelter or not, and perhaps to some annoyance about being kept in the dark regarding the armed guard. The feds obviously saw fit to deal with the police but not the prosecutor. This is not the best tack to take when the issue could wind up in court.

Eli and I make closing statements, and then I expect Judge Catchings to defer his ruling for at least a few days.

He doesn’t. “It is the opinion of this court that the county has not made a compelling case for depriving this dog of his liberty. I direct the defense to present to the court a statement stipulating how Milo will be cared for, and what arrangements and precautions will be made to guarantee that he will not participate in any further actions contrary to the public good.

“Once that statement has been approved by the court, I will order him released to your custody, Mr. Carpenter.”

“Your Honor, can I request that the guard remain on duty at the shelter until you have approved my submitted statement?”

“So ordered. My opinion in its entirety will be posted on the court Web site.”

Game, set, and match.