The Law of Second Chances

22

Charlene Pope-Charlie-had been a certified public accountant at the firm of Harrel and Jackson in New York City for twenty years. She was one of those strange people who truly found the tax code interesting. She loved her work, and she especially loved the firm she was with. All her significant relationships were at Harrel. She’d met her ex-husband there. When they divorced, there was no question that he would be the one who would have to go. Charlie would never leave the firm. She also met her best friend at Harrel-Pat Morgan.

Pat was ten years older than Charlie, but they had common interests. They liked concerts and sports, good books and men-not necessarily in that order. Pat was a runner, Charlie was a swimmer, and both of them were in great shape. Pat was the taller of the two, although Charlie was almost five-six. She had large green eyes that complemented her auburn hair and a smile so warm it could melt an iceberg.

They took long walks together accompanied by Charlie’s dog, Tinkerbell. Charlie was crushed when Pat moved to Florida but made frequent visits. As a senior member of the firm, she had plenty of vacation time stored up. And she loved Bass Creek.

“This place is like going back in time,” Charlie had exclaimed on her initiation morning at Jack and Pat’s special place on the river. “I feel like I’m part of it all-nature, I mean.” She caught the way Jack and Pat smiled at each other. “What? What did I say?”

“You said what we all say,” Pat told her. “That’s why it’s funny. Of course, if you didn’t say it, Jack and I would have to drop you as a friend.” Pat and Jack laughed, but they were half-serious.

Charlie felt like somebody had kicked her in the stomach the day she learned about Pat’s cancer. Denise Nichols, another friend of Pat’s and Charlie’s, worked in Human Resources at Pat’s old accounting firm, and Pat had called to check on her insurance coverage and to make sure the bills would be paid. Even though Pat had been working full-time as a teacher in Bass Creek, she was still considered a “substitute” because she had not received her certification from the state Department of Education. Consequently, she received no benefits from her teaching job.

Pat told Denise she was going to have some major bills but she was fuzzy on the details. Denise suggested Pat send the initial bills to her so she could personally verify the necessity, put them in line for payment, and make sure there were no glitches. When Denise saw the test results, she was shocked. She was almost in tears reading them when Charlie walked into her office to find out if she wanted to go to lunch.

“What’s wrong?” Charlie asked, noticing Denise’s teary eyes. Charlie had to do a little prying and persuading, but finally she got Denise to spill the beans. Try as she might, Denise could not keep the news from Charlie at that moment. Charlie was on the phone with Pat that night.

“I’ll be on the plane tomorrow,” she told Pat. “I just called to let you know I’m coming.”

“Charlie, I’m fine. There’s no need to come.”

“Are you doing chemo?”

“Yeah.”

“When does it start?”

“Monday.”

“Okay, I’ll be there Tuesday. How’s Jack doing?”

“He’s fine. We’re both fine. Really we are.”

“I’ll just have to see for myself. I’ll see you on Tuesday.”

Charlie’s pushiness was a godsend for Jack, who had been faced with a dilemma. He had to file the motion for recusal personally in Miami and wait for the judge to sign the order, no matter how long it took. But he also didn’t dare leave Pat. Even though she looked okay, he knew she wasn’t, and he refused to leave her alone under any circumstances. Charlie’s arrival solved the problem. She was someone he trusted.

He stayed for an hour after Charlie arrived, to visit and catch up. He knew what a private person Pat was and that she hadn’t wanted anybody to know about her illness. Now that Charlie was here, he could tell that she was delighted. They could sit and have tea and talk and maybe take a walk-so far, Pat was feeling no ill effects from her first chemo treatment. And she could tell Charlie her fears-things that he knew she might hide from him. As the two women cheerfully waved good-bye, he felt his burden of concern lighten a little. They seemed to want to get rid of him.

Jack handed the motions for rehearing and recusal and the order of recusal to Judge Hendrick’s secretary and told her he was going to wait until the order of recusal was signed.

“I wouldn’t suggest you do that,” she lectured him, as only a judge’s secretary could do. “He’s got a busy day. He may not even get to it.”

“Well, ma’am, I have a client on death row who is scheduled to be executed in a week, so I’m not going anywhere until the judge looks at these pleadings. You tell him that.”

The judge’s secretary looked taken aback by Jack’s tone. She wasn’t used to being talked to that way by attorneys. It wasn’t Jack’s way either, but he didn’t have time to be polite. “I’ll tell him what you said,” she replied coldly.

“Thank you. I’ll be in the waiting room.”

Every half hour he walked into the judge’s outer office just to let her know he was still there and to remind her, in case she’d forgotten, that this was a pressing matter. Jack suspected that the judge had already looked at the motion, heard from his secretary how rude Jack had been, and was making him wait until the last minute. Some things were just so predictable, even when a man’s life was at stake.

Judge Hendrick called him in at 4:30.

“What is this, Mr. Tobin, some kind of joke? You don’t like my ruling so you move to have me recused?”

“Judge, I waited all afternoon because I need an answer now as to whether you’re going to sign this order or not. I didn’t expect to talk to you, and I’m uncomfortable stating my position on this matter when the state is not present.”

The judge ignored him. “I think your actions are despicable, Counselor. There is a finality to the law, and death-row inmates are not going to get out of their just deserts with shenanigans like this on your part.”

Jack had had just about enough. “Look, there is a motion in front of you and an order. I’ve attached a case from Polk County that is right on point where ten judges recused themselves when a colleague’s competence was questioned. I’ve got a wife at home sick with cancer and a client who is scheduled to be executed next week. With all due respect, Judge, I don’t have time to listen to your petty insults. Now make a decision: either sign the order or don’t.”

Judge Hendrick glared at Jack. There was a long silence while he appeared to be weighing his options. Then he turned toward his office door.

“Martha!” he yelled to his secretary in the other room. His door had remained open during the entire conversation: the judge had wanted a witness. “Get Wofford Benton on the phone.”

Wofford was waiting for the call. Jack had phoned earlier to say he was at the judge’s office, and Wofford had assured him that he would take the call no matter what he was doing.

“He’s on line one,” Martha shouted back to the judge a few moments later.

“Wofford, Arthur Hendrick here. I’ve got a motion for recusal on my desk and an affidavit from you. Mr. Tobin has been here all afternoon and he has been rather insistent. I would say rather insolent as well.”

“Well, Arthur, he’s insistent and probably insolent because a man that I once represented is about to die,” Wofford told his colleague, his voice booming on the loudspeaker phone. “Frankly, it was my idea to file the recusal motion. I made mistakes in that case, and I know you wouldn’t grant a motion for a new trial on that basis. So sign the order and let Mr. Tobin get on his way.”

Five minutes earlier, Arthur Hendrick had no intention of signing the order of recusal. Now he had Jack Tobin standing over him and Wofford Benton-whom he had called-telling him to sign it. He was boxed in pretty good.

Arthur Hendrick sighed heavily. “If you insist. . and because you insist, Wofford, I’m going to sign this order.”

He hung up the phone, signed the order, and handed it to Jack without ever looking up.

Jack left Judge Hendrick’s office on the run. He had barely enough time to take the order to the clerk of court, file it, get another judge assigned, and take the court file and the motion for rehearing to her office-only to learn that Judge Susan Fletcher had already left for the day.

“Much better!” Wofford told him later that evening. “Susan Fletcher has a good mind and she’s fair. The problem with her is that she’s disorganized and we’ve only got a week. Sometimes it takes her a week to tie her shoes. You’ve got to call her office every day, Jack.”

“Will do, Wofford. I’ll keep you posted.”

Pat and Charlie were having a grand old time back in Bass Creek while Jack was having it out with Arthur Hendrick. Their walk was short, mainly because Pat was tired. Then they sat out on the back porch by the pool drinking tea and catching up.

“How is that new guy you were dating-Ted?” Pat asked.

“Oh, he’s history,” Charlie replied. “It’s a shame how people who really seem promising end up disappointing you. I thought Ted was the real deal-handsome, generous, caring-everything you look for in a man but never seem to find. About week five, the whining started. He had to have everything his own way. And he was so tight his ass squeaked.”

Pat laughed. Charlie had a way with words. “Oh, that’s too bad. With your looks you’ve never been without suitors. Any new prospects since then?”

“None that have passed the initial sniff test. I guess I’m getting jaded. I just can’t stand to go out with a man who wants to do nothing all night but talk about himself. Ninety percent of them are like that, you know. The other ten percent are whiners like Ted.”

Charlie had succeeded in one of her goals: Pat was laughing. It was time to get serious for a moment.

“What are they telling you, by the way?”

“It’s not good. They say I have stage four cancer, which is usually terminal, but then they tell me I’m young and strong and don’t give up hope.”

“I didn’t know it was that advanced, Pat.”

“Yeah, it is. We haven’t given up, though. I can’t give up. I couldn’t do that to Jack.”

“I’m sure he’s a mess, the way he adores you. I’ve never had a man feel that way about me.”

“Yeah, I’m very lucky, Charlie. Jack is special.”

Charlie leaned across the table and took her best friend’s hands in hers.

“So is his partner.”