Judge Roth's Law Read online

  Judge Roth’s Law

  Bill Sage

  © 2016 Deacon-Spratt & Lobart Press

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN: 0692033378

  ISBN 13: 978-0-692-03337-1

  Cover Design: Craig White Illustration

  Author photo by Michael Sage Photography

  For my wife Judy, my only true love and constant companion.

  Table of Contents

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  1

  Newport Beach, California – 1983

  “Is it okay if I…close it?” Steve Ward asked as he pointed at the open door of Judge Al Roth’s chambers.

  Now Roth knew his suspicions were correct. It’s about Ryan. He turned to Ward and gave him a curt nod then zipped his robe to the top.

  Ward closed the door then sat down in one of the chairs in front of Roth’s desk. A tall man with a buzz cut and glasses, he was Congressman Bob Hamilton’s chief of staff, the guy Hamilton turned to when he needed to make things happen and play hardball.

  “Nice of you to see me,” Ward said.

  Judge Roth cracked a thin smile, keeping his thoughts to himself.

  Two days ago, Ward had called Roth, saying he wanted to meet and go over some pending legislation that could affect the courts.

  Roth didn’t believe him. Thought his real purpose was to pressure him into giving a light sentence to Kevin Ryan, a real estate developer who worked closely with Congressman Hamilton. In a highly-publicized case, Ryan had been found guilty of two bribery charges in Roth’s court.

  “Well, I guess I could talk about upcoming legislation…” Ward stopped there and stared at Roth. “But as you’ve probably already figured out, that’s not my real reason for wanting to see you.”

  He paused.

  “It’s about Ryan…”

  “I’m shocked,” Roth said in a straight face. “I thought you had some welcome news about more federal funding.”

  “No, I wish I did,” Ward said, chuckling. After pausing a moment, he said, “As you know, Ryan’s coming up for sentencing in a couple of months. Kevin’s a good family man, strong in his church, has two small daughters, and Bob needs him out of jail.”

  “I haven’t decided what sentence I’ll be giving him. But that’s all I can say about it.” It was improper for Roth to discuss Ryan’s sentence with Ward unless the attorneys on the case were present.

  “That’s what I thought you’d say,” Ward said. Then he leaned forward, resting one arm on Roth’s desk. “But here’s what you have to know. He’s too important to Hamilton, he depends on him to get stuff done. He can’t go to jail.” He paused briefly then said, “Give him straight probation… maybe a little community service.”

  “That’s enough,” Roth said, waving his hand in Ward’s direction. Although Roth expected Ward would try to put pressure on him, now that he was doing it, it disgusted him.

  Ward was about to respond, but Roth cut him off. “Steve, we’re friends, but you’re not going to come in here and secretly lobby me to do anything on this case.”

  Ward paused then smiled. “I understand, but you have to understand something too. Ryan can’t go to jail. He’s the guy who gets things done in the district. Hamilton would be lost without him, needs him working out there.”

  “That’s nice. I’ll be sure to keep that in mind when I hand down the sentence.”

  Ward scoffed, then glaring at Roth he said, “You’re not getting this. This isn’t a game for us. We’re prepared to play rough if we have to.”

  Roth pushed back his chair, rose to his feet. “That’s it, you’re gonna have to leave. You’re not going to pull that crap on me.”

  Ward just sat there for moment with a smirk on his face. Then, “Hey, Al, how’d you like it if everyone knew about Gerard and Munich?”

  Roth felt his arm and chest muscles tighten. He eased himself back into his chair, hoping no concern was showing on his face. How the hell did he ever find out about that?

  “Congressman Rossi from Detroit is a close ally of Hamilton’s. He has his sources in the Detroit Mob and can find shit out on anybody.”

  Roth remained silent, thinking that was years ago.

  “Detroit, that’s where you’re from, isn’t it?” Ward said.

  Judge Roth looked at him, showing no expression. As he listened to more of Ward’s threats he glimpsed the framed photograph on the edge of his desk, his eyes immediately going to the words written across the bottom—“I’ll always love you. Yours forever, Linda.”

  They’d broken up about three months ago, but she was never far from his thoughts.

  Ward paused as he peered intently at Roth. “Al, come on. You don’t want this to get out. You don’t need this. Be smart.”

  “That story is bullshit,” Roth said, shaking his head. “You’re going to look like a pathetic loser if you try to peddle it to the press. Go tell Bobby I don’t give a shit if you accuse me of some ridiculous lies.”

  “No one cares whether it’s true or not. The press will have a field day and you know how tight Hamilton is with Governor Deukmejian. If Hamilton raises this issue with “Duke,” he’ll take steps to remove you from the bench. You’d be finished…”

  Roth laughed. “Yeah, then maybe I’ll go into politics. Heck, you might end up working for me.”

  Ward shook his head. “You’re not looking at this the right way. You need to do something that benefits you.” Then in a softer voice, “You can always use more friends. And I can tell you Bob will be grateful for what you’ve done. He doesn’t forget.”

  Roth stood up and stared Ward down.

  Ward dropped his eyes, then got up. “It looks like you don’t care if you destroy your own career. That’s what you’re doing.”

  Roth remained silent, thinking ahead now.

  Ward started for the doorway. “Okay, I’ll tell the office what your decision is.”

  Roth came around from his desk. “Yeah, you do that. Tell the office, Steve.”

  When Ward was in the doorway, he turned to deliver his parting words. “Just in case you haven’t figured it out yet, if you don’t play ball, you’re history,” he warned. “I’ll give you one
week, then I’ll call you.”

  2

  AFTER WARD LEFT HIS CHAMBERS, Roth stood in front of his desk, peering at the open doorway.

  I gotta do something to stop that asshole.

  Then he went to his desk, sagged into the chair and wondered how the Munich story ever got out.

  He knew he’d never told anyone in Detroit. Only one other person knew anything about it—Jake Gertner.

  It must have been him.

  Thinking about his old friend, Roth couldn’t keep himself from smiling.

  Jake and his big mouth.

  Then, shaking his head, he visualized a cocky Jake sitting in a bar in Detroit, cigarette dangling from his mouth. Bragging to his mob associates how he and Al Roth whacked a French guy in Munich when they were in the army.

  But even if Jake was the guy who blabbed the story, it didn’t matter to Roth. Jake had been his loyal friend for many years. They went back too far, been through too much. It’d be impossible for him to hold a grudge against Jake for more than a minute or two.

  But back to Ward. Roth knew he had to do something to neutralize him.

  Jake Gertner could do that.

  All it’d take is a phone call. He’d drop everything and fly out to California. No questions asked.

  With Jake at his side, it’d be like old times. Jake on offense, kicking ass and having Roth’s back. And although Roth was aware Jake had a one-track mind, especially when it came to protecting him, that was Ward’s problem, not his.

  Roth checked the clock above the couch, noting that it was early in the evening in Detroit. He was thinking that the sooner he called Jake, the better.

  I’ll put him on notice and stoke him up a little.

  He opened the top desk drawer to dig out his address book, but just then his court clerk Judy came to the open door. “The parties on the Capozzi motion are ready.”

  “Okay, I’ll be right out.” He shut the drawer, grabbed the court file and returned to the courtroom.

  Roth took the bench, slid a stack of folders to the side and opened the Capozzi file. As he glanced over at the counsel tables, he caught the defense lawyer elbowing his slouching client’s arm.

  Roth smiled then turned to the DA. “Mr. Hicks, you may call your first witness.”

  “Your Honor, I’m sorry, the officer just stepped out into the hallway,” the DA said. “May I have a moment?”

  “Sure. We can wait a minute or two.”

  While he waited, Roth craned his neck to the left where Judy was sitting. “How’s Michelle doing?” he whispered.

  “Oh, she’s fine now. Back in school.”

  “That’s good. I know you were concerned.”

  The DA returned to his place at the counsel table. After a few seconds, a Newport Beach police officer came in, sat down next to him.

  “We’re ready, Your Honor,” the DA said. “May I proceed?”

  “Yes, go ahead.”

  The DA gestured for the officer to take the witness stand. He was the burglary detective who led the search of the defendant’s house. After asking several preliminary questions, the DA zeroed in on the room where the stolen property was found.

  “Detective, did you search the master bathroom?”

  “Yes sir, I did.” The detective then described how he searched through the medicine cabinets and drawers on either side of the sink.

  As Judge Roth listened to the testimony, he noticed the defendant was doodling on a yellow legal pad. But he didn’t take it as a sign of disrespect.

  He was more amused than anything else.

  Roth grabbed a pen. Then he scribbled something on a piece of paper and slid it to the edge of the bench.

  Judy read the note, looked over at the defendant, then back at Roth. Holding an object in her hand, she walked over to where the defendant was sitting. Bending down, she whispered something to him.

  He just gazed at her with a blank look on his face. Then she laid a black marker pen on top of his legal pad and walked back to her desk.

  Finally, after a few seconds of sitting motionless, a wisp of a smile came to the defendant’s face as he reached for the marker.

  When the detective stepped down, both sides rested. Then the defense attorney made his argument for granting the motion. Every now and then Roth drifted off, thinking about Ward.

  Knew he had to talk to Jake.

  When the defense attorney concluded his argument, the DA had his turn.

  After listening to more back and forth arguments, Judge Roth granted the motion to suppress evidence.

  The sheriff’s deputy approached the defendant to take him back to the lockup. When the defendant rose, Roth said, “Mr. Capozzi, you may keep the marker. Take it as a gift from the State of California. Use it wisely.”

  Capozzi and his attorney smiled.

  “You were lucky this time. Next time it could be very different. Don’t forget I know you had stolen jewelry and coins in your house. If the police had obtained a search warrant, you’d be on your way to the state prison. Think about that, Mr. Capozzi.”

  The attorney grimaced, but held his comments.

  Capozzi nodded. “Yes, Your Honor. I get it.” Then he was taken back to the lockup.

  3

  ROTH RETURNED TO HIS CHAMBERS, took off his robe. Draped it over a chair. Went back to his desk, opened the top drawer and took out the small spiral notebook he used as an address book.

  It was 4:13 p.m. in California, so it was 7:13 in Detroit. He dialed Jake’s number. Four rings and he answered.

  “Jake, something bad’s happening.”

  “Something bad? What?”

  “Munich.”

  “What the fuck?”

  “Could be serious.”

  “I’ll come out there right away. Whatever you need me to do.”

  “Not yet. I have a little time before…”

  “Whaddaya talking about? I’ll fly out tomorrow, get it straightened out. I’ll handle it.”

  “Thanks, Jake, but honestly it can wait.”

  “Well, that works out for me, I got my own problem. So I’m gonna be out there in a week or two anyway. Something I’ll need to talk to you about.”

  “Me?” Then after a pause, “Something legal?”

  “Business.”

  “Your business?”

  “Connected to it.”

  “You could say mine is business too.”

  “It looks like you can wait. If not, tell me.”

  “No, no, it can wait.”

  “Okay. I’ll be coming soon,” Jake said.

  “We can talk.”

  “When I get there.” Short pause. “Kill two birds.”

  “When you say ‘kill’ I get nervous.”

  “You’re a pussy.”

  “I’ll have to do a better job of hiding it.”

  “Impossible. I’m coming.”

  “Good. We can both settle our scores.”

  Roth shoved the address book back into the drawer and sat back in his chair. He and Jake had been close friends for over 30 years. Growing up in Detroit, serving in the army, and all the years since then.

  He couldn’t imagine Jake Gertner having a problem. He was too intimidating, too fierce. Most people did whatever they could to avoid even coming in contact with him.

  There was maybe only one person who ever dared to give Jake any crap…

  Al Roth himself.

  After a few more minutes of wondering what Jake’s problem was, Roth stopped thinking about it. He’d just have to wait until Jake came out there to find out.

  Then he went back to Ward and the Ryan case. He remembered the trial; it was widely followed in the newspapers and other judges peppered him with questions about what was happening.

  Though he knew Ryan’s up-coming probation report would show he had many redeeming qualities, Roth always thought it was a clear-cut state prison case. Giving him no jail time was completely off the table.

  He got up and sat on the couch, proppi
ng his feet on the coffee table. For a few minutes, he considered calling a newspaper editor he knew to see if he had any ideas on how they could prepare a counter-story to run just in case the Munich story hit the press. But nixed that idea because it would unnecessarily expose him to premature leaks.

  It’d be best to keep it to himself for now.

  Then as Roth was going back to his desk, he spotted Linda’s photograph again. With the blackmail threat hanging over his head, it’d be nice to hear her voice before he left court. Lift his spirits a little. Why not?

  He called her at work.

  “Why are you calling me during court?” Linda asked.

  “Just wanted to say hello.”

  “That’s sweet.” She paused then asked, “Everything okay?”

  “I had a little time between cases, so I thought I’d call.”

  “There’s something wrong that you’re not telling me. What’s going on?”

  “Yeah, I know it seems like that, but I just wanted to say hello, that’s all.”

  Linda sighed, then, “You sure everything’s okay?”

  “Yeah,” Roth said. “Still like working for your daddy?”

  “He can be a jerk sometimes, but I love him.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “We’ve been busy lately. Getting a lot of new business.”

  “Oh, hang on,” Roth said as if someone had just entered his chambers. “What?” he said, holding the phone away from his mouth. “Oh, okay.” A short pause. “Sorry, I gotta go,” Roth said directly into the phone. “They’re calling me back to the courtroom. Talk to you later.”

  After hanging up the phone, Roth put on his suit coat and walked out of his chambers. Poked his head into the courtroom and said goodbye to Judy and his bailiff Jon, who were still shutting down everything.

  Then he left for the day.

  4

  Detroit, Michigan – November 1955

  EVERYONE ON 12TH STREET KNEW that the Veterans Club was a Purple Gang hangout. They’d see them driving in their Cadillacs or walking up the outside steps. Sometimes shooting snooker at the bowling alley or at Goldstein’s getting a haircut.

  But mainly keeping to themselves.