A Handy Death

Paul Varick had been stuffing papers into his briefcase. He turned his head, surprised. Gorman, at his side, leaned around to stare at Ross belligerantly.

“What in the devil—?”

The gavel was raised and descended sharply, cutting off further comment. Judge Waxler looked down at Ross.

“Yes, Mr. Ross?”

“Your Honor, the defendant now moves to vacate and set aside the sentence imposed upon him in December of 1968 as a second-offender—”

Gorman shot to his feet.

“What!” He turned to the bench and then thought better of it. A hasty whispered conference with Paul Varick ensued. The tortured expression on Varick’s face testified to his difficulty in listening to his chief and still trying to make sense of what Ross was saying. Hank Ross, aware of the other’s difficulty, kept a straight face as he continued his plea.

“Your Honor, the judgment and sentence issued on indictment 4256 of the year 1968 imposed a sentence of seven and one half years to twenty years on the defendant. We now request that the defendant be resentenced by this court as a first-offender immediately.”

Varick was now prepared. He came to his feet quickly.

“Your Honor, the prosecution does not pretend to understand this constant muddying of waters that the defense is engaged in. We are here to consider the charge of murder in the first degree against this defendant; the indictment is so drawn. Now, first we have sat here and heard the application — which was granted — for the removal of the first conviction, but at least, Your Honor, that had some connection with this case. This present application, however, the prosecution maintains, is totally irrelevant to the matter at hand, and the People ask that the defense be instructed to keep to the matter at hand.”

“But on what specific legal point does the prosecution object to the application?” Judge Waxler asked.

“On the basis that it is irrelevant, immaterial, and — well, immaterial.”

“It may not be immaterial to the defendant,” Judge Waxler said dryly, and turned to Ross. “Proceed, Mr. Ross.”

“Yes, Your Honor. The defendant is presently serving from seven and one half to twenty years in State’s Prison. Since Your Honor has just vacated the assault conviction which was the predicate for the sentence which he is serving now as a second-offender, quite obviously the crime for which he is now serving was a first offense. As such, he must be resentenced as a first-offender under the sentence which he is now serving.”

Gorman shook his head, muttering, “Good grief!”

Judge Waxler turned to the prosecution table, biting back a smile at Ross’s tactics, which he now fully understood.

“What say you, Mr. District Attorney? Isn’t what Mr. Ross says legally correct? If the defendant was originally sentenced as a second-offender and the first conviction has been set aside, he is in fact a first-offender. Isn’t he?”

Varick looked lost. “Well... but... well, I suppose so, Your Honor, but the prosecution doesn’t think resentencing should be done at this time.”

Ross looked across the courtroom.

“May I ask the prosecution why not? My client is no longer a second-offender. Isn’t he entitled to a correct and legal sentence as a first-offender?”

Judge Waxler settled the matter.

“Very well, the motion is granted. The sentence of seven and one half to twenty years imposed is now set aside. Mr. Ross, do you want me to resentence your client immediately?”

“I do, Your Honor.”

Judge Waxler turned to the Clerk. “Indictment number 4256, 1968.”

The Clerk nodded and left the room. Gorman and Varick fell into a deep conference, their heads almost touching. Billy Dupaul tugged at Ross’s arm. Ross turned to face the young man.

“Yes, Billy?”

“What’s this all about? I mean, what difference does all this make? When do we get down to business?”

“We’re down to business right now,” Ross said quietly. “If you think we’re not, take a look at Mr. Gorman — he knows we’re down to business.” A faint smile crossed his face. “He’s just beginning to wake up, I think, but he’s in for more surprises.”

“But what effect will all this mumbo-jumbo have on the murder charge? That’s what I’m interested in at the moment!”

“One thing at a time,” Ross advised softly. “Right now, let’s handle this.”

Billy Dupaul subsided, frowning his doubts. Ross waited patiently; Gorman and Varick continued to discuss the points in a whisper inaudible in the courtroom. The spectators began to move about restlessly as Judge Waxler accepted the indictment folder from the Clerk and began to study it. The courtroom stenotypist leaned back, staring at the ceiling, his mind miles away. At long last Judge Waxler closed the folder and cleared his throat. The courtroom came back to life. Judge Waxler looked past Ross to Billy Dupaul.

“Mr. Defendant, what have you to say before judgment of the court is imposed against you according to law. Do you wish to be heard or do you wish to have your counsel, Mr. Ross, speak for you?”

Billy Dupaul came to his feet slowly, still looking puzzled.