No Way Out

Sarah Jensen shook her head. ‘Your Honor, if I might just add something at this juncture. There is nothing particularly confidence-inspiring in Mr Claymore’s return to the United States, after he’d spent several years on the run as a fugitive from justice. He stayed away as long as he could hold out, until he decided that he preferred the comforts of an American prison to the hardships of a Third World dictatorship.’

Alex bristled with anger. ‘Your Honor, anyone who thinks a prison is a comfortable place to be, should spend a couple of nights there.’

‘I believe,’ the judge replied solemnly, ‘that prison is supposed to be an unpleasant place…so that the inmates don’t get too attached to it.’

Again, laughter erupted from the spectators.

‘My point, Your Honor,’ Alex replied, with growing irritation, ‘is that the court should be guided in its judgment by considering the new Elias Claymore, not the old Elias Claymore. His absconding, like his criminal record, belongs to his past.’

‘That’s something that the prosecution will no doubt dispute, and something that the jury will have to decide,’ said the judge in his world-weary tone. ‘However, I’m inclined to accept that the defense has a valid point regarding the flight risk. The fact that Mr Claymore returned to the United States to serve his sentence is a strong point in his favor. Also he does now have roots in the community. On the other hand I must also bear in mind the severity of the alleged crime and the fact that Mr Claymore has a record for this sort of crime and the fact that he did once escape lawful custody.’

Alex and the A.D.A. waited in silence while the judge considered his options.

‘I feel that in this case, the accused’s record of escape outweighs any other factors. Bail is denied.’

Alex was angry. ‘In that case my client stands by his right to a speedy trial.’

‘That is his right, Mr Sedaka. I’ll set the prelim fourteen days hence in Court 12.’

In general lawyers are more amenable to a delay when their client is out on bail. Alex’s motive for refusing to waive the right was twofold. Firstly to put pressure on the D.A. – and thus indirectly on the judge – to reconsider the bail question. Secondly, if bail was to be denied, then he didn’t want his client sitting in jail for long. Jail is an unsafe environment at the best of times, and for a black man who was thought of as an ‘Uncle Tom’ it was particularly dangerous. He would be in danger from both sides.

Whether either of them would go as far as to try and kill him was another matter, but prison beatings were almost impossible to prevent. The only way Claymore would be safe was if he asked for isolation from the general prison population. But that would involve being put in a special section with all the sex offenders, including child molesters. Alex wasn’t sure if Claymore would be ready to seek this. Knowing Claymore, he’d probably try to tough it out – until it was too late. And this wasn’t an area in which Alex could advise his client. It was something Claymore would have to decide for himself.

After a brief whispered exchange, Claymore was led away to the county jail that was located in the same building.

As Alex was walking away, he was approached by a dignified, sixty-something gray-haired man, who stiffly proffered his business card to Alex, by way of introduction.

‘I’m Arthur Webster of Levine and Webster.’

‘How do you do, Mr Webster,’ said Alex, tensely. ‘What can I do for you?’

‘Let’s walk,’ said Webster, indicating with his hand to the side exit from the court building. Alex was happy to comply, but felt alienated by the man’s manner, that appeared to straddle the fence between embarrassment and condescending arrogance.

‘I should explain that we’re a local law firm, based in Los Angeles. We’re retained by the network that broadcasts Mr Claymore’s show and we work extensively with SoCal Insurance where Mr Claymore carries his liability insurance.’

‘I’ve heard of you,’ said Alex.

Webster seemed pleased by this.

‘The reason I wanted to talk to you is because I understand that you’re actually based in San Francisco.’

‘What of it?’

‘Well Claymore’s insurance policy with SoCal Insurance includes legal liability and it occurred to us that it might be rather hard for you to represent Claymore down here in Ventura when you’re based up in the Bay area.’

‘And you want…’

‘We’d like you to step aside as attorney of record and let us represent Mr Claymore.’

Friday, 12 June 2009 – 15.40 (#ulink_2ab2bd17-7c04-50cc-a6ae-94cbaf9736e4)

‘But as I’m sure you know,’ said Alex, ‘the policy only covers civil liability.’

Alex was seated with the partners of Levine and Webster, including Paul Sherman, around the long oval rosewood table in the main conference room. The atmosphere was tense.

‘Well obviously it can’t cover criminal liability,’ said Webster with a puerile grin, ‘because an insurance company can hardly serve a custodial sentence. But the policy includes payment of legal fees as well as liability payouts, and the insurance company has specifically asked us to take the case.’

Alex had kept his cool when Webster had first approached him and had agreed to this meeting without prejudice. But he was getting irritated now.

‘That means, presumably, representation and legal fees in a civil suit, when there’s an issue of liability.’

‘It covers all legal representation,’ Webster insisted, ‘including criminal.’

‘You seem to be assuming that you can do a better job of defending him on criminal charges than I can.’

‘Oh, come on Mr Sedaka, you’re a one-man band. We’re a large law firm. We’ve got dozens of lawyers and a network of experts and other contacts that you can only dream about.’

‘I’m not disputing your size, but that’s not necessarily an advantage. If the accused marches into court with an army of lawyers, that can actually count against him.’

‘There’s also the logistical aspect. You’re up there in the Bay, we’re down here in the Basin. Ventura’s in our backyard. What are you going to do? Commute down from San Fran every day?’

‘You seem to be assuming that the trial is going to stay in Ventura.’

‘Are you going for a change of venue?’ asked Sherman.

‘I might. It certainly wouldn’t hurt if we could get it transferred to a county with better demographics.’

‘I thought you wanted a speedy trial,’ said Webster. ‘A change of venue motion will give them a pretext for a delay.’

‘Also we’re in a better position than you when it comes to a change of venue,’ added Sherman.

Alex’s ears pricked up at this. ‘How so?’

‘We’ve got a whole department for demographic analysis.’

Alex thought about this for a moment. ‘You may have a point. But it’s not for me to decide. It’s Claymore’s call. I’m his lawyer and I’m here for him as long as he wants me.’

‘But you could talk to him,’ said Webster, ‘convince him.’

‘I’m not even going to try. I’m not convinced that you can do a better job, so why should I try and convince him?’

Arthur Webster leaned forward to speak again. But a frail-looking man, who must have been pushing eighty, held up his hand to silence him. This was Aaron Levine, the senior partner in the firm. Webster slumped back into his seat and left it to his lifelong friend to address Alex.

‘Could I ask you a question, Mr Sedaka? Please don’t take this the wrong way, but is it a matter of professional pride? Because, if so, you needn’t worry. Your reputation precedes you. We all remember your remarkable achievement in the Sanchez case.’

Alex was no longer angry. But neither was he assuaged by the flattery. In truth he was simply relieved that their real concerns were finally coming out into the open. He noted that this man was tactful enough not to mention the Clayton Burrow case.

‘It has nothing to do with professional pride. But I’m not just Elias Claymore’s lawyer, I’m also his friend. I’m not going to abandon him or do anything to give him the impression that I want to unload the case onto someone else.’