“A court-martial?” Kins asked.
Cerrabone shook his head. “No. An Article 32 is the military’s equivalent to our convening a civil grand jury, except it’s open to the public and to the media. Senior trial counsel said they can hold the hearing in two weeks. It might give the mother some assurance they’re serious about prosecuting Trejo.” Cerrabone looked at Tracy. “Dunleavy is going to push for you to be a witness with respect to what was found inside the car and how you secured the videotape. He wants SPD to continue to look invested. We’ll just have to play this out.” He flipped his wrist and again tugged at his sleeve, checking his watch. “We better get back in there.”
Tracy and Kins followed Cerrabone back into the courtroom. He moved to be seated beside D’Andre Miller’s mother and aunt. Tracy and Kins stood at the back. Though it was cold outside, the sheer number of bodies had warmed the courtroom and made it stuffy. An oscillating fan on the judge’s desk struggled to circulate the air. Tracy felt like someone had turned on radiant heating, the warmth crawling up her body.
“Is it hot in here?” she asked.
Kins shrugged. “Not too bad.”
Hot flash from the Clomid. Great timing. At least she hoped that’s all it was. Her mother had gone through early menopause. That would end the baby discussion quickly.
At 2:30 p.m., Judge Milo Yokavich, who was said to be seventy-three but looked and moved as if he were 103, entered the courtroom dwarfed by two King County Jail correctional officers.
“Gringotts,” Kins said.
Short, with wisps of hair, pronounced ears, and a crooked nose, Yokavich had been dubbed Gringotts, which was the Wizarding Bank in the Harry Potter books, by some heartless attorney who thought he looked like the head goblin.
Yokavich took the bench between the United States and Washington State flags and nodded to the clerk. She called case 17285 SEA, the State of Washington versus Laszlo Gutierrez Trejo. Yokavich had clearly adjusted his calendar to get the case heard first so he could clear the court for the remainder of the calendar.
Trejo entered from a door on the right dressed in red prison scrubs with the words “Ultra High Security” stenciled on the back. Cerrabone approached the desk and stood beside the two naval officers as Yokavich methodically turned the pages of the certification, taking several minutes to read it, though he had likely read it in chambers. When he’d finished, he flipped back to page one and set the pleading on his desk. “I’ve read . . .” He looked at the two naval officers, as if surprised by their presence. Then he said, “I’ve read the certification. Anything else from the state?”
“No, Your Honor,” Cerrabone said.
“I find sufficient probable cause to detain this defendant.” Yokavich looked to the officers. “Do either of you wish to be heard?”
The male officer nodded. “The defense wishes to be heard.”
Yokavich nodded. “I thought you might.” He sat back.
“Your Honor, my name is Captain Cameron Moore, senior trial counsel, United States Navy. This is Lieutenant Leah Battles, defense counsel assigned to Naval Base Kitsap in Bremerton, Washington, which is the defendant’s base. As Your Honor is likely aware from the uniforms we’re wearing, the defendant is enlisted in the United States Navy.”
“It wasn’t lost on me,” Yokavich said.
“I wouldn’t think so. Specifically, Mr. Trejo is a logistics specialist serving at Naval Base Kitsap. This morning I spoke with the King County prosecuting attorney about the possibility of the United States Navy asserting jurisdiction in this matter.”
Yokavich looked to Cerrabone. “Counsel?”
“I am aware that the prosecuting attorney did receive a telephone call from Captain Moore, Your Honor. However, I’m unaware that any decision has been reached regarding jurisdiction. I was advised that Navy criminal investigators would be conducting a further investigation and a decision made upon completion of that investigation.”
“So the Navy has not yet asserted jurisdiction?” Yokavich asked.
“Not yet. Not to my knowledge,” Cerrabone said.
Moore spoke. “We are in the process of making that determination. As counsel represented, we have naval investigators assigned to this matter. Until we receive their information, Your Honor, I am requesting that Mr. Trejo be confined to the Northwest Joint Regional Correctional Facility at Fort Lewis, for his own safety.”
“His safety?” Tracy whispered to Kins. “What is he talking about?”
Kins shook his head. “Don’t know.”
“Your Honor,” Cerrabone said. “I’m sure the King County Jail can ensure Mr. Trejo has safe confinement.”
“Why can’t he be confined in the King County Jail?” Yokavich asked Moore.
“Your Honor,” Moore said. “Mr. Trejo is an active duty service member and has served overseas during foreign campaigns on the USS Stennis, as well as at operating bases in Iraq and Afghanistan. He cannot be placed in general population because of the possibility of foreign nationals who would seek to harm him.”
“Is he kidding?” Tracy said. “He worked in storage rooms.”
“I don’t think he kids,” Kins said.
Cerrabone continued, “Until a decision has been made concerning jurisdiction, Mr. Trejo is in the custody of the King County Jail. That is where he has been booked and processed. If the Navy asserts jurisdiction, they can move him then.”
“Your Honor, Mr. Trejo is also innocent until proven guilty. Since his safety cannot be guaranteed in a civilian prison, he should be allowed to exercise his right to be secured in the regional correctional facility on Joint Base Lewis-McChord where he will be placed in pretrial confinement until such time as the Navy’s investigation is completed. There is absolutely no prejudice to the King County prosecutor.”
Maybe not, Tracy thought, but such a move would give the appearance of the type of preferential treatment by the Navy that concerned Shaniqua Miller and the rest of those gathered.
Yokavich gazed up at the ceiling as he considered the matter. Lowering his gaze to Cerrabone, he said, “I don’t find any prejudice. Is there any prejudice?”
“It’s an unnecessary step, Judge, and it’s anticipating something that has not and may never occur,” Cerrabone said. “That decision can be made if and when the Navy takes jurisdiction, which it hasn’t. Until then, Mr. Trejo should be treated like any other King County defendant.”
“We’re here now,” Moore said. “It avoids having to move Mr. Trejo, and it ensures his safety.”
Yokavich nodded. “I’m going to grant the motion until such time as the Navy makes its decision.”
“Dammit,” Tracy said, loud enough that Kins turned and glanced at her. She noticed the majority of the crowd shaking their heads in resignation.
“If the Navy does not assert jurisdiction, we can revisit this issue,” Yokavich said. “Until then, I am remanding the defendant to the Northwest . . . It’s a brig isn’t it?” He looked to Battles.