Chapter SIXTY-FIVE
W. Warren Plowden had seen a lot in his seventy years, but this evening’s activities were unique. First, there was the call from the president, a totally unexpected event. He didn’t like the president and hadn’t voted for him. They were of different political parties, different generations, different views on how to conduct the nation’s business. But when the president calls and asks a favor, it would be unconscionable to deny him if it was at all legally possible.
The favor was a fairly simple one. The president had asked that Judge Plowden go downtown to the federal courthouse and swear in David Parrish as the interim U.S. Attorney for the Southern District of Florida. It wasn’t such a big deal in and of itself, but Plowden knew that David Parrish was already the sitting U.S. Attorney in the adjoining district.
Plowden had sat as a judge of the United States District Court for the Southern District of Florida for more than twenty years, and in the past year had become Chief Judge of the district. Before that, he had practiced law in Miami for twenty-five years and had the reputation as brilliant, both as a lawyer and a jurist. He was also a man who believed in the law as an instrument of good. The great body of jurisprudence built over centuries to govern the affairs of humanity was for the most part a work of brilliance. There were always little slivers of law that had not been well thought out, not tested in the crucible that was the human experience. But those occasional transgressions foisted upon the legal system were ultimately ironed out, overruled, rescinded by the lawmakers, or declared unconstitutional by the courts.
Judge Plowden had discovered this great intellectual minefield almost by accident. He’d graduated from Davidson College in North Carolina and decided to go to law school because he didn’t have any plans for the next few years. He discovered his passion during those first few days of studying Real Property and Constitutional Law and other courses that would define his life. He was hooked and took to the study of law with a joy that bordered on obsession. The law was said to be a jealous mistress and Plowden had found that indeed it was. It demanded absolute fealty and devotion from those who practiced its tenets. And he had practiced law with a single-minded pursuit of justice that awed all who came into contact with him, both as a lawyer and as a judge.
Judge Plowden was saddened by the sudden death of the U.S. Attorney, a man he’d known for many years, who he’d tried cases against, and later who’d appeared before him on numerous occasions. They had been friends, at least to the extent that a judge can be friends with lawyers who appear before him. The man’s death would be a great loss to South Florida.
The question that Judge Plowden was wrestling with was not whether the president had the authority to appoint an interim U.S. Attorney, he did, but whether he could appoint a man already holding the same office in another district. A quick Westlaw search gave him no answers. He could not find another instance where it had been done. The constitution was silent on the issue and the section of the U.S. code dealing with such appointments did not specifically prohibit one person being appointed in two districts at the same time. It didn’t seem right to the judge, but he could find no legal prohibitions against it.
Plowden had called the president back and told him he was on his way to the courthouse. Now, as he sat on the bench, having done his duty and sworn Parrish in as the interim U.S. Attorney, Plowden peered out over the courtroom, wondering what came next. Parrish had asked him to hear a motion, a joint motion brought by the government and the defense attorney for a man the judge had never heard of, George Perez. It was a new case, one that arose from an arrest earlier in the day.
The judge fiddled with his computer keyboard, shook his head, and said, “I find no such case in the dockets, and even if there were such a case, it hasn’t been assigned to me.”
“Your Honor,” said Parrish, “the defendant was arrested just a few hours ago, and we haven’t had time to file the necessary pleadings to get the case docketed. However, this is an unusual situation, and time is of the essence.”
“I’m listening, Counselor.”
“As chief judge you can appoint any of the judges of this court to handle any particular case.”
“I understand that,” said the judge, a bit of impatience creeping into his voice.
“I’d like to move that you appoint yourself to hear this case, Your Honor. My opponent, Ms. Bichler, representing the defendant Perez, is here in the courtroom to join me in that motion. The pleadings have already been typed up, and I can sign them now that I’m sworn in. I’ll file them with the court immediately. Again, with Ms. Bichler’s concurrence.”
“What’s the rush on all this, Mr. Parrish?” asked the judge.
“Your Honor, Mr. Perez is a money launderer for a small but important drug ring operating out of Puerto Rico. He’s been involved in several recent murders in the Sarasota area and has extensive knowledge of other murders and activities of the drug ring. He can give evidence against a number of people whom the government believes to be guilty of multiple crimes.”
“Why can’t this wait until the case runs its normal course?” asked the judge.
“Mr. Perez’s life is in danger, Your Honor,” said Parrish. “We’re afraid that even one night in general lockup could lead to his death. We already know through an informant, that there is a one-million-dollar price on Mr. Perez’s head. We also think there are other murders planned by Mr. Perez’s associates. We may be able to stop them from happening if we get the information we need from Mr. Perez.”
“What’s your proposal?” asked the judge.
“Our joint proposal is that we reach a plea bargain that would require Mr. Perez to testify in any trial or grand jury investigation on matters of which he has knowledge. In return, you would sentence him tonight to life imprisonment under a new name. All paperwork would be under the new name and the charges would be completely different than those that bring us here today, but they would carry an equal sentence. Mr. Perez would serve his imprisonment in an institution far removed from Florida. In other words, Perez would disappear and he would serve his sentence under an alias. Nobody would know who he really is, except a few people in the Department of Justice.”
The judge looked at Deanna. “Do you agree to these terms, Ms. Bichler?”
Deanna rose from her seat at counsel table. “Yes, Your Honor. My client has instructed me to accept the deal if the court authorizes it.”
“This is highly unusual, but I don’t think there is anything illegal about it. I do have a question, Mr. Parrish.”
“Yes, sir.”
“How do you guarantee that Mr. Perez will cooperate in the coming months and years?”
“He has agreed to take lie detector tests whenever the government wants. If he is caught lying, or if he refuses to testify, then the life sentence will stand, but he will be reassigned his real name and be sent to a prison in Florida.”
“In other words, you’ll hold a death sentence over his head. One outside the legal system, an execution by some inmate thug with a homemade knife.”
“That’s about the size of it, Your Honor,” said Parrish.
“I won’t be a part of that,” said the judge. “Besides, how do you know some prisoner wherever Mr. Perez is sent won’t recognize him?”
“Mr. Perez has only dealt with about three people in the organization,” said Parrish. “Nobody else knows him by sight. The odds are infinitesimal that he’ll be recognized.”
The judge sat silently for a minute, then stood and said, “We’ll be in recess for ten minutes. I have to think about this one.”
The judge was back. “Mr. Parrish,” he said, “does the government think Mr. Perez is a big enough fish for us to go to all this trouble?”
“Yes, sir. We think he can help us put away some major drug lords, interrupt the flow of narcotics into the country, and disrupt the money supply. We also think he may be able to give us information that will forestall at least a couple of planned murders. And we believe Mr. Perez can provide us the help we need to arrest and convict those responsible for the murder earlier this evening of the U.S. Attorney for this district.”
“Very well,” said the judge. “Here’s what I’m willing to do. I won’t sanction murder, no matter how good the cause. Therefore, I cannot agree with part of your bargain. I’m willing to go along with the name change, the new prison, all of that. Part of the deal will be that if Mr. Perez ever reneges on his part of the agreement, he will agree that the life sentence will be revoked and he will be back before this court with a plea of guilty to murder and be subject to the death sentence. The decision on whether Mr. Perez has failed to live up to his part of the agreement and whether the death sentence is warranted will be left to a judge of this court. There will be no extrajudicial punishment.”
“May I confer with Ms. Bichler?” asked Parrish.
“Certainly.”
Parrish and Bichler huddled in the back of the courtroom, talking in whispers. When they broke, Deanna went to her client and after a whispered conversation with him, rose and said, “The defendant will accept the plea bargain as outlined by the court.”
“Mr. Parrish?” asked Judge Plowden.
Parrish rose and said, “The government will accept the plea as outlined by the court.”
“Okay,” said the judge. “I assume you two have worked out a plan to implement this.”
Parrish was still standing. “I’ve talked with the head of the U.S. Bureau of Prisons and the U.S. Marshal for this district. It’s going to be a bit complicated, but we think we can get it done within the next couple of days. We’ve arranged for Mr. Perez to be held in isolation tonight, but we’d like to get him moved first thing tomorrow. The paperwork will follow, but the marshal has assured me that they can transport him under the new name even if the paperwork isn’t completed. The Bureau of Prisons will accept him from the marshal under the alias.”
“Is this agreeable to your client, Ms. Bichler?”
Deanna stood. “It is, Your Honor.”
“Then it is so ordered,” said the judge. “Hand me the charging pleading, Mr. Parrish, and get me the other paperwork by the end of business on Thursday. You’ll need to draft an order getting Mr. Perez transported tomorrow morning.” He looked at his watch. “This morning now, I guess. Can you get it to me by nine a.m.?”
“Yes, sir,” said Parrish. “Ms. Bichler and I will get it done tonight. Well, this morning. Thank you, Your Honor.”
“Court is adjourned,” said Judge Plowden. He stood, surveyed the courtroom, shook his head, and left the bench.