After #3
“Yes, Tanzania. On a climbing expedition. Mr. Falk also travels constantly for work. And he has access to liquid assets in the tens of millions, some of which is located outside the U.S. and cannot be frozen. There has never been a greater potential flight risk.”
“Your Honor, I repeat, they have no definitive proof a crime even took place, much less a murder. They certainly have no proof that my client was responsible,” Mikey said.
“Is the prosecutor suggesting that any defendant with access to significant assets can be locked up indefinitely? Just in case? Because as we all know, in U.S. v. Boustani, the Second Circuit expressly held that it was unconstitutional to hold a defendant’s financial status against them. ”
The judge frowned. “Tell that to every defendant being held at Rikers for months because they can’t scrape together a few hundred dollars for bail.”
“Your Honor, Mr. Falk will happily relinquish his passport, submit to house detention, ankle-monitoring, and whatever other limits the court wishes to impose. But there is no conceivable reason why he should be held without bail. It’s unconscionable.”
“Goldman Sachs also has a private plane that the defendant has access to.” The prosecutor turned so that her pregnant belly pointed at Richard like a weapon.
“Mr. Falk is an employee of a corporation with a corporate jet used for corporate purposes. Are we really talking about holding a man in his fifties at Rikers because he works at a large company? A man who has never committed a crime in his entire life and against whom the prosecution has virtually no actual evidence?”
“Just because the defendant doesn’t have a criminal record doesn’t make him innocent,” the prosecutor said. “There’s a first time for everything.”
From the way the judge was now scowling at Richard, on this point he seemed to very much agree.
“Considering only the severity of the charges and the potential flight risk—not this recanted confession and whatever else has been a part of this circus so far—the court has no choice but to remand the defendant pending trial,” the judge said finally, before turning to the prosecution.
“But you had better clean up your act, counselors, or you’re going to run into serious problems well before trial.
The kind of trouble that no gaggle of hungry reporters will dig you out of.
Bailiff, call the next case. Let’s get this afternoon moving along. ”
“Wait, that’s it?” Elizabeth hissed at Scotty. “He’s staying in jail?”
“Not here,” Scotty cautioned. “Let’s talk in private.”
Already the guards were coming to get Richard. He turned back as he shuffled toward the door, found Gretchen’s eyes, and mouthed, I love you. Maybe. Gretchen wasn’t sure. She couldn’t see anything clearly anymore.
—
They gathered in one of the small private meeting rooms lining the hallway outside the arraignment courtroom.
“You said he’d be coming home,” Cassandra barked at Scotty before the door even closed.
“I know. I’m sorry,” Scotty said. “I’m as shocked as you.”
Mikey held up an index finger. “For the record, I am not shocked. If you recall, I did say that bail would ultimately be at the judge’s discretion, and this judge does not like wealthy defendants.
” His voice was very firm, but calm. “It’s not really any more complicated than that.
We will appeal, of course. With another judge we might do better. We might not.”
Elizabeth crossed her arms petulantly. “Well, that’s super reassuring.”
“I’m simply trying to be honest and realistic.
The denial of bail is a setback.” Mikey’s voice had softened.
“There’s no arguing otherwise. And I’m sorry if you feel you weren’t properly prepared for the possibility.
I had certainly hoped for a different outcome.
But this has no bearing whatsoever on the possibility of us ultimately getting the charges dismissed before trial or, worst-case scenario, us proceeding to trial and your father being acquitted. ”
The certainty of his tone steadied them all. Just a setback. That was a very different way of looking at this. Gretchen squared her shoulders. It was going to be okay. It was going to be fine.
“Mikey is right,” Gretchen said to her children, almost cheerfully, which she knew was too much but she was incapable of effectively moderating her tone. “We just need to take this one step at a time.”
“You got pom-poms in your purse, too, Mom?” Elizabeth asked, but she sounded more sad than anything. “Pull ’em out and we can each take a turn.”
“Don’t be an asshole, El,” Cassandra muttered, a hand to the back of her neck. “She’s just trying to—”
“Pretend this isn’t happening? Yeah, I think we all know the drill. Pretty sure it’s not going to work this time.”
“Hold on, hold on.” Scotty raised his palms. “Maybe everyone should just take a beat.”
They were all quiet for a moment. But it was still tense.
“What confession are they talking about?” Becks asked finally.
“Your dad doesn’t remember exactly what he said,” Scotty explained.
“He doesn’t remember confessing?” Elizabeth asked.
“A confession isn’t always a confession. His statements were misconstrued. It happens all the time to people being questioned,” Scotty offered. “They’re under a lot of stress, exhausted, not thinking clearly.”
“To be absolutely clear, we haven’t seen the transcript yet, so we don’t know exactly what he said—that’s the bottom line,” Mikey Pearce added.
“He remembers making several different statements, and that’s not great.
Seems likely they’ve latched on to something passive-aggressive like, ‘Fine, I did it,’ said in a moment of frustration.
And as I said in court, the good news is that he recanted immediately, and they have no signed waiver.
That’s helpful, but most important, according to Richard, he didn’t really confess. ”
“You saw how the prosecution dropped it almost immediately,” Scotty said. “They know it’s bullshit.”
“Dropped it for now.” Mikey gave Scotty a pointed look. “At the moment, we can’t say for sure what evidence the prosecution will use. It will become clear over time, though, and we will respond as necessary.”
“What about the bloody clothes in our apartment?” Elizabeth asked. “What the hell was that about?”
“Let’s see what they come back with when they’re sharing actual evidence,” Mikey said.
“You can hear some alarming things at an arraignment that magically vanish once more lab work comes in and it doesn’t go the way the prosecution was hoping.
They don’t have a DNA match on that blood, or the body yet.
Apparently, there are some issues slowing down a visual ID. ”
“They found her body?” Cassandra asked.
“Yes, in the Hudson, near Battery Park, two days ago,” Scotty said.
“As you can imagine, they’re not being very forthcoming with details, except that the condition of the body is making a visual ID difficult.
Facial injuries. Also, her mother has competency issues, so I don’t think she could travel here or do a visual ID, even if one were possible. ”
“Maybe they won’t be able to go to trial if they don’t have an official ID,” Becks offered.
“They’ll get an ID,” Mikey Pearce said. “At arraignment it’s not unusual for them to proceed without one.
I know it feels like this has been going on for an eternity, but in investigative terms it’s only been a number of hours since the crime took place.
State-run labs take more time than you’d think for things like fingerprints and DNA. ”
“Their theory, we gather, is that Richard moved her body to Battery Park afterward because it’s near his office,” Scotty said.
“Well, that would be stupid,” Elizabeth said. “Doesn’t she live in the East Village?”
“I agree that would be a very stupid thing for Richard to do. And Richard is not stupid,” Mikey Pearce said.
“We’ll need to wait until they give us all the medical examiner’s findings, including a specific cause of death, before we more fully consider how best to rebut this.
I’m sure their theory includes something like Richard getting interrupted when he was moving her body, panicking, and dumping her there.
That he never intended to leave her near his office.
Prosecutors are not stupid people, either—they can find an explanation for even the most inane theories.
” He paused. “Anyway, while we wait for more details, my associates will get started on the paperwork for an appeal of the denial of bail. Don’t get your hopes up just yet, but bail appeals can sometimes succeed. ”
“Can we see him?” Cassandra asked.
“He’s being transferred to Rikers,” Mikey Pearce said. “It can take a day or two until visitors are allowed. But we’ll let you know as soon as we get word that he’s been processed.”
“And as soon as you know anything more. Anything at all. Even bad news,” Gretchen confirmed. “We want to be updated no matter what.”
“You’ll know anything the minute we do,” Mikey said. “I promise.”
“Is it still possible they don’t even have a case?” Becks asked.
“Of course!” Scotty said. “More than possible—I think it’s likely. This has snap judgment written all over it. And judges do dismiss criminal cases.”
Everyone looked at Scotty doubtfully. It was one thing to push unhelpful facts from the forefront of your mind; it was another to be actively delusional.
Gretchen stood a little taller. They needed to focus on solutions. “What about other suspects? Shouldn’t you be investigating the kind of person she was? Maybe there are other people in her life who wanted to hurt her.”
Like the many men she was probably having sex with. Gretchen couldn’t say that, but those paintings…they were just so available. It suggested that Frankie might have been, too. That was simply a fact.
“Exactly,” Cassandra added. “For all we know, she had all sorts of enemies.”
Elizabeth nodded vigorously in agreement.
“The best defense is a good offense,” Becks added quietly, staring toward the door now. Gretchen didn’t love the far-off look on his face.
“I have a whole team of investigators,” Mikey said. “They’re on it, but it will take a little time.”
Gretchen’s mouth felt dry. “Can one of you tell me something encouraging now, please?” Her voice was trembling in a way she hated but was powerless to control. “Because this entire situation is”—she glanced at her children—“it’s unsettling.”
When Scotty looked up at her, his gaze was unflinching. “He didn’t kill anyone, Gretchen,” he said resolutely. “That’s all that matters.”
There was something so terribly deliberate about his tone, his choice of words.
Oh, God, Scotty knew or at least suspected that Richard and Frankie had been having an affair.
It was like he was casually drawing a razor down the center of Gretchen’s forehead.
She could feel the blood running into her eyes.
“But there must be something we can do,” Cassandra said. “Something more than just sitting here and waiting.”
“We’re not going to let our dad get railroaded. This is what the government does.” Elizabeth glanced at Gretchen, a flicker of compassion in her eyes. “Whatever else he is, he definitely isn’t a killer.”
“Agreed,” Scotty said. “We all agree on that.”
Mikey Pearce cleared his throat. “The most important thing is for all of you to support Richard while he is in custody—visit, call, have friends visit and call. Make him feel cared for.” He paused.
“Also, make arrangements with someone you trust in Richard’s office who can cover for him in the short term.
As Richard’s attorneys, we’ll reach out to Goldman in a more formal way as soon as possible to be sure he’s protected. ”
“Yes, of course,” Gretchen said smoothly. “That’s already taken care of.”
“Right now, I’d say Richard seems most worried about all of you,” Scotty added.
“But he needs to be focused on helping us put together his defense. So, to the extent that you’re able, reassure him.
He wants to know that the kids are okay, that they’re continuing on with their lives.
He seemed especially concerned that Becks was missing school. ”
“He’ll be going back,” Gretchen said. “Elizabeth will be, too.”
She made a face. “Gee, thanks, Mom.”
“Beyond that, manage your lives, conserve your energy,” Mikey went on.
“I know it’s not a satisfying answer, but it’s really the best thing right now.
Get ready to deal with the press. They’re already on this, obviously.
Get your finances in order, too—no moving or hiding assets.
We don’t want even a hint of impropriety. ”
“Why would we hide anything?” Becks asked.
“You wouldn’t,” Scotty said. “But the D.A.’s office loves to jump to conclusions. One decimal point out of place, and you’ll never get rid of them.”
“Obviously,” Gretchen said smoothly.
In truth, this complication hadn’t occurred to her. Those men wanted their fifty thousand dollars, and they clearly weren’t going away. And now she couldn’t withdraw that kind of money without raising questions—ones she certainly could not answer.