Guilty as Sin by Joseph Teller Page B

Barnett’s simple lifestyle? You say that was an elaborate cover. Did it ever occur to you that it wasn’t a cover at all? That in fact it was nothing more than the manifestation of a very simple life lived on a very modest income?
    PASCARELLA: No.
    JAYWALKER: What’s a “CI,” Lieutenant?
    PASCARELLA: A confidential informer.
    JAYWALKER: Did you ever attempt to enlist the services of a CI in this case? You know, have an informer approach Mr. Barnett and either try to buy drugs from him or try to introduce an undercover officer to him for the purpose of buying drugs?
    PASCARELLA: With a CI? No.
    JAYWALKER: Yet isn’t that how it’s usually done?
    PASCARELLA: Sometimes. I don’t know about “usually.”
    JAYWALKER: [Holding up a sheet of paper] How about, let me see, how about in 97.3 percent of all direct sale cases made in New York County over the past forty-eight months?
    PASCARELLA: If you say so.
    JAYWALKER: I just did. What I’m asking is, do you agree with what I just said, or do you disagree? [Waves sheet of paper]
    PASCARELLA: I agree, I guess.
    JAYWALKER: But that’s not how it was done in this particular case.
    PASCARELLA: No.
    JAYWALKER: This was one of those…let’s see, 2.7 percent of cases where you decided to skip the use of a confidential informer altogether. Right?
    PASCARELLA: I guess so.
    JAYWALKER: And why was that?
    PASCARELLA: Because the subject was too hinky, too careful. I was afraid that if we used a CI, it might scare him off.
    JAYWALKER: I see. And yet this is the same subject who the anonymous caller told you he could tell was dealing heroin, the same subject who could be found right out in the open on the front stoop of what turned out to be his own apartment building, sitting there with two girls who turned out to be his own daughters. Is that—
    The rest of the little speech was drowned out by Miki Shaughnessey’s objection and Judge Levine’s sustaining it. But that was okay. By that time Jaywalker had spent twenty minutes with Dino Pascarella, flirting with fire without getting burned too badly. Not that he’d ever quite demonstrated that anything the witness had said was untrue. But if Jaywalker was lucky, maybe he’d piqued the interest of someone in the jury box. Someone who was open to the possibility that a cop—even a cop with the word Lieutenant plunked in front of his name—was capable of stretching things to the breaking point and beyond.
    As soon as Pascarella left the courtroom, Judge Levine declared a recess and excused the jury for lunch. Including opening statements, they’d been working for close to two hours already. But before the judge could leave the bench, Miki Shaughnessey was on her feet asking for an opportunity to examine the statistic sheet.
    â€œThe what?”
    â€œThe piece of paper Mr. Jaywalker read from,” said Shaughnessey. “You know, when he recited the statisticsabout the use of confidential informants. I think I have a right to see it, and even have a copy of it.”
    â€œMr. Jaywalker?” said the judge, looking his way.
    Without objection he handed Shaughnessey the sheet he’d held aloft and then waved in the witness’s direction moments earlier. She took it from him and stared at it, turning it over several times before looking up and complaining that there must be some mistake, that what she’d been given was nothing but a blank piece of paper.
    â€œWhy am I not surprised?” sighed Judge Levine. “As the trial progresses, Miss Shaughnessey, I think you’ll find yourself getting used to Mr. Jaywalker and his, shall we say, unorthodox way of doing things.”
    Shaughnessey’s reaction was to shoot Jaywalker a dirty look before turning and storming out of the courtroom.
    That afternoon, after finally calming down, she accused him of taking advantage of her. But as he pointed out, that had hardly been the case. If anyone