In The Plan - 22. Chapter 22

22

The next morning, Carleson began by calling two of Doug Hodges' doctors to testify. One was his primary orthopedist, who explained each of the injuries Doug had sustained as a result of the accident. The other was a doctor of physical therapy, who explained the specific follow-up treatments Doug had undergone. Both doctors were very detailed in their descriptions, and each used photographs and diagrams to indicate the severity of the injuries and treatments.

While listening to this testimony, Carleson would occasionally glance at the back of the courtroom, where his assistant Bill was sitting. Bill would sadly shake his head side-to-side, to indicate that Cowboy was not yet there.

Carleson finished each doctor's testimony by asking the same series of questions. "Is it your opinion, to a reasonable degree of medical certainty, that these injuries were caused only by the automobile accident Doug Hodges was in?"

Both doctors replies were the same.

"Yes."

"Do you feel that Mr. Hodges' injuries are permanent in nature?" Carleson continued.

Again, both replies were "Yes."

Carleson then asked each doctor to describe the resulting problems Doug would have during his remaining life. Each slowly and deliberately listed a litany of ailments, ranging from arthritis to hip replacements and spinal fusions. It was a very bleak picture of his future health that Doug had to listen to in the courtroom. Even so, he always kept his head high, with the hint of a smile and gratitude on his face, confirming Carleson's opinion that Doug was truly one of a kind.

After Carleson finished with the doctors, Stu Lee passed on cross-examination. There was nothing he could do to change the medical records or the severity of the injuries. When the judge asked Carleson who his next witness was, he replied, "That would be Joseph Muraro, your honor. I just need a minute to find him in the hallway."

Lee shot Carleson a look that said, "There's no way on earth that guy is sitting outside," but Carleson simply walked past Lee and headed for the rear doors of the courtroom. They led to the hallway and waiting areas for prospective witnesses. As he neared the doors, Bill again caught his attention and still shook his head side-to-side. That indicated, "Negative, boss. He's still not here."

Carleson felt a rock in his stomach. He, Bill, and Brittany had spent five hours with Cowboy the night before, talking about the trial and the accident. But, more importantly, Carleson felt he'd learned about who Cowboy really was. They'd seem to have bonded, even though they had very different backgrounds and lives. Brittany was their one common link, and they'd both used that to create what had seemed like a genuine connection. Or so Carleson thought.

When he walked through the courtroom doors, there were benches on either side of the hallway. He looked to his left, and the bench was empty. Same to his right. He checked his phone, but there were no texts, e-mails, or missed calls. Carleson bit his lip and turned to re-enter the courtroom. As he began to pull at the heavy door, the door to the courtroom on his left opened, and out of the corner of his eye, Carleson saw a large man coming out. Carleson stopped to look that way, and as the man fully appeared, he grinned and said, "Hey! Guess I walked into the wrong trial."

Cowboy hadn't exactly dressed up for court, Carleson noticed., but, fortunately, he wasn't in leathers. Except for the do-rag, still on his head. Or maybe he had a collection of them. He probably had a closet full of jeans, because these were clean, and his T-shirt, besides being clean, also looked fairly new. Thankfully, he wasn't wearing a "wife-beater." Over his T-shirt, he wore a presentable jeans jacket - not new, but not ragged. His white cowboy hat was in his hand, and, of course, he was wearing pointy, well-shined boots. And the skull-and-crossbones buckle on his belt had been replaced by one of heavy jade.

Cowboy noticed Carleson looking him over. "Clean enough for scout camp?" he asked. "I've got other clothes in my car, but they don't really fit. I've dropped a little muscle recently. Been too busy to work out every day."

Carleson could only imagine what Cowboy looked like pumped. He could already easily lift Bill.

"You look fine," Carleson assured him. "I'm happy you're here."

Stu Lee didn't look as pleased. But he quickly said to Carleson, "Got to give you credit for that magic act."

"Wait till you see him eat the rabbit," Carleson tossed back.

Lee hesitated then offered, "Hope I'm not wearing big ears."

They both laughed at that but were equally worried. There was no telling what Cowboy would do or say.

The first thing the judge made him do was take off his do-rag. "Out of respect for the court," she explained.

Cowboy scanned the courtroom. He was already on the stand. No one else was even wearing a baseball cap, so he took off his do-rag, neatly folded it, and slipped it into his jacket pocket. His hair was neatly buzzed. He'd left his hat on Carleson's table as he'd gone by.

The preliminaries seemed familiar to him, maybe from the first trial, and Carleson led him comfortably through them: Name. Address. Family. Work Experience. Training. Charity Contributions. Carleson led right up to the meeting between his Corvette and Coghlan's Mercedes, less for Cowboy's sake than to give the jury a sense of who the man was. Then he let Cowboy go on. Cowboy carefully repeated everything he'd said in the first trial, leading right to the moment when he identified Coghlan. At that point, he paused to look at Carleson, Carleson nodded, and Cowboy made his in-court ID. "That's the man over there. I remember his face. I'll never forget his face."

Carleson asked him to specifically identify who he was talking about, and Cowboy simply said, "Brad Coghlan - Mr. Brad Coghlan."

He'd remembered that Carleson told him not to refer to Coghlan as "Officer."

It didn't seem to matter to Coghlan. He simply glared at Cowboy - as if he had heat vision and could make the big man melt.

This time, there were no objections from Lee, and even the judge seemed to know what was coming. It was in the shared discovery notes. Everything went so smoothly that Carleson quickly finished out his questions, thanked Cowboy, and handed him over to Lee.

"Good to see you again, Mr. Muraro," Lee began. "I hope you found a safe place to park your chopper."

Zero to 60 in under a second, Carleson noted. He had to admit Lee was something.

Cowboy just looked at the judge. "Am I allowed to answer, your honor? Politely - of course."

"Of course," the judge said.

"Actually, I drove my pick-up truck this morning," he told Lee. "Got to go to work from here."

"But you still have your chopper?"

Cowboy could tell they'd leaped into cross-examination without any further niceties, so he answered appropriately.

"Actually, I sold the chopper. My fiancé doesn't like me riding. Thinks I might get hurt."

There was some polite laughter in the courtroom, as it didn't seem like anything could hurt Cowboy. Lee waited for it to pass. Meanwhile, Carleson was looking at Cowboy, hoping the man knew he couldn't lie on the stand, no matter how good his intentions. And Carleson had seen a Harley in front of Cowboy's trailer the night before.

What Cowboy wanted to tell Carleson - which he would later - was that in the year that had passed since the first trial, he'd sold the vintage cycle asshole Lee was talking about. Though he had bought another. Bigger. And it did scare the shit out of his girlfriend.

Lee simply went on. "But I'm sure you're still a member of your little riding club."

Cowboy grinned, thinking, Little riding club, my ass. That's the sweetest thing I've ever heard the Angels called. He wanted to say, No, darling, I've taken up knitting, but instead said, "Nope. That scares the fiancé, too, and she's more important to me than some of my buddies. Besides, I've got plenty of other pals. Firemen. Paramedics. Police officers."

He grinned at Lee after he said that, then looked at Brad Coghlan and smiled at him.

"I thought one of the perks of your club," Lee went on, "was it has a lifetime membership. You know, 'Once an Angel, always an Angel.'"

He paused to make sure they jury understood.

Cowboy looked towards the jury, shrugged, and smiled.

"Rules are meant to be broken."

Again, there was some laughter in the courtroom.

"Some rules," Cowboy quickly added. "Others, I hold up to god."

He quickly looked at the judge, as if to make sure he could invoke the deity. She nodded, and Carleson wanted to laugh. Actually, he wanted to sell popcorn - Cowboy was doing just fine.

"So you're no longer a member of Hells Angels?" Lee asked him more directly.

"Nope - haven't been for almost a year. My experience in the last courtroom made me see the light."

Now there, Cowboy was lying in two or three directions. First, he wouldn't trust Lee for even the easiest advice if his life depended on it. Second, he hadn't quit the Angels - though he hadn't really seen most of his riding buddies since he'd gotten involved with his most recent girlfriend, Kim. A guy's got to set priorities. Third, there was no way Lee could check his membership, because it's not like the Angels had a roll call, and monthly meetings, and mailing lists. It was a group of people who didn't like rules, so why would they make them for themselves? In any case, because Cowboy didn't like to lie and tried not to in all but the most polite circumstances, it was a pretty easy for him to do. He just believed he was telling the truth.

Lee was silent for a moment. "But you were an Angel for almost fifteen years?"

"It would be just under that," Cowboy admitted, absolutely telling the truth.

"And, despite their possibly illegal connections, you're proud of that?"

Carleson was on his feet. "Objection, your honor. Speculative. Not in Evidence."

Under any normal circumstances, the judge would have to Sustain. There was no other way. But she again overruled Carleson, with a smile. The full court press was on.

Lee repeated his question to Cowboy. "But, despite their possibly illegal connections, you're proud of your membership in Hells Angels?"

Cowboy tilted his head slightly, as if to think. Though, to him, it wasn't a hard question. "A man doesn't rat on his friends."

He rasped the "rat" directly at Lee, then smiled slightly, as if to take off the edge. This time, he didn't look at the judge for permission, but he did notice Carleson shaking his head slightly, side to side.

"I don't mean to say that you might be a rat," he quickly apologized to Lee. Again, there was some laughter in the courtroom. It was too easy to pin the jerk this time. He was good, Cowboy admitted to himself, but now Cowboy had friends at stake.

And that's how the questioning continued. Lee played hard, and Cowboy responded easy. Though Lee quickly realized he was getting nowhere with the Hells Angel's attack and moved on to more legitimate areas - he battered Cowboy about how he could remember so much about the near accident, in such tiny detail, in such a small amount of time.

"It's kind of like dyin'," Cowboy softly explained, "- which you've got to remember I almost did that night. And I really thought I was going to."

He aimed that right at the jury.

"Time kinda slows down," he went on. "It's like what people say about seeing the White Light... and everyone they ever knew... and meeting The Big Guy. You're not really thinking in real time - not living in that. You're really calm, and you really believe 'This is it.' So you're sucking in everything you can, trying to remember - hoping you do. So if you really do make it to Heaven, you have eternity to think it over. Of course, if I don't make it and go to Hell, I'll just see my old ridin' buddies."

That cracked up almost everyone in the courtroom, and even the judge had to slip her hand over her mouth, so people wouldn't see she was smiling. Carleson was just sitting there thinking, Come on, come on, come on - get this over. Don't mess up now. It was worse than sudden death in any game he'd ever seen.

But Lee pounded on, spinning multiple variations of "Are you sure?" and "Could you be mistaken?" and "Remember, you're under oath," looking for any sign of weakness or contradiction. At very least, he wanted to put as much reasonable doubt in the jury's minds as he possibly could. He couldn't do better than that. He tried one last time, asking Cowboy to recreate the near accident and consider any possibly missing details. That, unfortunately, just led Cowboy into repeating, "That's the man over there. I remember his face. I'll never forget his face. His name is Mr. Brad Coghlan." Faced with that affirmation, Lee simply said, "No further questions, your honor."

But before Cowboy even stood to leave the stand, he turned to the judge. "Can I go back to work now, your honor?" he asked quietly. "I've got clients waiting."

The judge looked at Carleson, who nodded. Then she caught Lee's attention as he sat down.

"Excuse me?" Lee asked, quickly realizing he'd missed something.

The judge nodded at Cowboy and indicated Lee. Cowboy repeated his question, this time directed to Lee.

"Can I go back to work now?"

Lee looked at Carleson, who nodded again, then Lee replied, "Yes. Thank you."

"The witness is excused," the judge seconded. And Carleson exhaled.