stinks, Ruth.''
''I don't remember that class in law school that said prosecutors had to lay out their case for the defense within twenty-four hours,'' Ruth said, unfazed by Josie's indignation. ''Your client was advised of his rights. . .''
''After your people ground his face into the street. . .'' Josie objected.
''And he was told he was being booked for the murder of Timothy Wren and he did not request an attorney. We followed procedures to the letter.''
Ruth finished as if Josie had never spoken. Josie threw up her hands, simultaneously chancing a glance at Jude. He was sitting quietly, watching closely. Josie gave him credit. It seemed he could play well with others when it was called for.
''If I didn't know better, I'd think that you were helping John Cooper do an old friend a favor.'' Josie went after Ruth again. ''Everyone and his brother knows that John's first job as a teenager was at Pacific Park. That little bit of folklore is standard media chatter when he's trying to pretend he's just a regular guy at election time. And, it's no secret that Pacific Park reciprocates with a nice fat check every time he gives them the free publicity. So, if this doesn't look like there's a whole hell of a lot of back scratching going on, I don't know what does.''
''That's good, Josie, but it won't fly so don't try to get this office to recuse itself,'' Ruth clucked. ''First off, John isn't prosecuting this case, I am. For the record, I never worked at Pacific Park. I couldn't fit into those cute little costumes even when I was sixteen.''
''But John isn't keeping his distance. He spoke at the press conference,'' Josie pointed out. ''He didn't give one good reason why my client's been arrested much less charged. So either step back and apologize or you give me that one good reason right now.''
Ruth, full of energy, happy to have this glorious work to do and someone to do it with, was in her element.
''No problem, Josie. I'll share one with you and your cohort. You are still with us aren't you, Mr. Getts?''
''Most definitely,'' Jude answered, gracing Ruth with a truly magnificent smile. She was unimpressed and gave her pants a little hitch to prove it.
''Excellent. Then I'll get to it,'' Ruth said, amused that he seemed to be trying to charm her.
Josie sat next to Jude and crossed her long legs. She cocked her elbow on the arm of her chair and put a finger to her lips as she watched Ruth. A cheap television set with a built-in VCR was propped on a stack of reference books on her credenza. A Starbuck's coffee mug and a brown paper bag shared the space along with dog-eared files, souvenirs of Ruth's travels and two new case boxes. One was completely filled, the other was not.
Ruth took a video tape from one like she was pulling a rabbit out of a hat. She put it in the machine and with a little flourish hit play, stepped back and gave her elastic-waist pants another snap for good measure. The images were instantaneous, cued in anticipation of showing it.
Shot from a stationary security camera, the lens panned a wide angle of Pacific Park. The crawl of the San Diego Freeway could be seen in the distance. The San Bernardino Mountains were snow-tipped and sparkled brilliantly in the Southern California fall. In the foreground was the Shock & Drop: a huge, hulking mass of steel columns and pulleys, levers and cogs, bright paint, grease and rust. Small platforms were attached three across to the outside of the structure. Neon bright. Happy, jarring colors. The kind of colors that would make a heart race just to look at them. Colors that would make children scream out and dib.
Dibs on red. No yellow. Blue. Blue! No worries. Pick one just for you.
The platforms were narrow: wide enough to accommodate all sizes of feet, small enough to feel precarious if you were the one standing atop them. Webbed safety harnesses were wrapped over the shoulders and strapped the rider tight to a backboard of what looked like plexiglass. A huge
''I don't remember that class in law school that said prosecutors had to lay out their case for the defense within twenty-four hours,'' Ruth said, unfazed by Josie's indignation. ''Your client was advised of his rights. . .''
''After your people ground his face into the street. . .'' Josie objected.
''And he was told he was being booked for the murder of Timothy Wren and he did not request an attorney. We followed procedures to the letter.''
Ruth finished as if Josie had never spoken. Josie threw up her hands, simultaneously chancing a glance at Jude. He was sitting quietly, watching closely. Josie gave him credit. It seemed he could play well with others when it was called for.
''If I didn't know better, I'd think that you were helping John Cooper do an old friend a favor.'' Josie went after Ruth again. ''Everyone and his brother knows that John's first job as a teenager was at Pacific Park. That little bit of folklore is standard media chatter when he's trying to pretend he's just a regular guy at election time. And, it's no secret that Pacific Park reciprocates with a nice fat check every time he gives them the free publicity. So, if this doesn't look like there's a whole hell of a lot of back scratching going on, I don't know what does.''
''That's good, Josie, but it won't fly so don't try to get this office to recuse itself,'' Ruth clucked. ''First off, John isn't prosecuting this case, I am. For the record, I never worked at Pacific Park. I couldn't fit into those cute little costumes even when I was sixteen.''
''But John isn't keeping his distance. He spoke at the press conference,'' Josie pointed out. ''He didn't give one good reason why my client's been arrested much less charged. So either step back and apologize or you give me that one good reason right now.''
Ruth, full of energy, happy to have this glorious work to do and someone to do it with, was in her element.
''No problem, Josie. I'll share one with you and your cohort. You are still with us aren't you, Mr. Getts?''
''Most definitely,'' Jude answered, gracing Ruth with a truly magnificent smile. She was unimpressed and gave her pants a little hitch to prove it.
''Excellent. Then I'll get to it,'' Ruth said, amused that he seemed to be trying to charm her.
Josie sat next to Jude and crossed her long legs. She cocked her elbow on the arm of her chair and put a finger to her lips as she watched Ruth. A cheap television set with a built-in VCR was propped on a stack of reference books on her credenza. A Starbuck's coffee mug and a brown paper bag shared the space along with dog-eared files, souvenirs of Ruth's travels and two new case boxes. One was completely filled, the other was not.
Ruth took a video tape from one like she was pulling a rabbit out of a hat. She put it in the machine and with a little flourish hit play, stepped back and gave her elastic-waist pants another snap for good measure. The images were instantaneous, cued in anticipation of showing it.
Shot from a stationary security camera, the lens panned a wide angle of Pacific Park. The crawl of the San Diego Freeway could be seen in the distance. The San Bernardino Mountains were snow-tipped and sparkled brilliantly in the Southern California fall. In the foreground was the Shock & Drop: a huge, hulking mass of steel columns and pulleys, levers and cogs, bright paint, grease and rust. Small platforms were attached three across to the outside of the structure. Neon bright. Happy, jarring colors. The kind of colors that would make a heart race just to look at them. Colors that would make children scream out and dib.
Dibs on red. No yellow. Blue. Blue! No worries. Pick one just for you.
The platforms were narrow: wide enough to accommodate all sizes of feet, small enough to feel precarious if you were the one standing atop them. Webbed safety harnesses were wrapped over the shoulders and strapped the rider tight to a backboard of what looked like plexiglass. A huge
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