The Racketeer Page 0,52

federal prosecutor. On the job for two years now, appointed by the President, he had found it all rather mundane, and though it was a fabulous addition to his resume, it was somewhat unfulfilling. Until, of course, Judge Fawcett and Ms. Clary were murdered. Instantly, Stanley's career had new meaning. He had the hottest case in the country and, like many U.S. Attorneys, planned to make the most of it.

The gathering was advertised as a press conference, though none of the authorities planned to answer any questions. It was a show, nothing more, nothing less. A carefully orchestrated act intended to (1) feed some egos and (2) let the public, especially the potential jurors, know that the Feds had their man, and his name was Quinn Al Rucker.

By 9:00 a.m., the podium was covered with portable mikes, all advertising the television and radio stations from whence they came. The courtroom was packed with reporters of all stripes. Men with bulky cameras stepped on each other as they jockeyed for position, all under the watchful eyes of courtroom deputies.

In the rule books and decisions that govern the practice and procedure of criminal law, at both the state and the federal levels, nowhere is it written that the "announcement" or "handing down" or "delivering" or "issuance" of an indictment must be publicized. In fact, almost none of them are. They are formally registered with the clerk once the grand jury makes its decision, and eventually served upon the defendant. An indictment is only one side of the case - the prosecution's. Nothing contained within an indictment is evidence; at trial, the jury never sees it. The grand jury that issues an indictment hears only one side of the case, that presented by the government.

Occasionally, though, an indictment is too hot, too important, just too damned much fun, to be allowed to flow benignly through the system. It must be publicized by those who've worked so hard to catch a criminal and who will bring him to justice. Stanley Mumphrey did nothing to apprehend Quinn Rucker, but he was certainly the man who would put him on trial. In the federal pecking order, the U.S. Attorney far outranks a mere FBI agent; therefore, the event belonged to Stanley. As was customary, he would share (reluctantly) the spotlight with the FBI.

At 9:10, a door opened beside the bench, and a platoon of hard-nosed men in black suits flooded the space behind the podium. They jostled for position, all with their hands cupped over their balls. The arrangement here was crucial because the frame was only so wide. Standing at the podium, side by side, were Stanley Mumphrey and Victor Westlake - head prosecutor, head cop. Behind them were FBI agents and assistant prosecutors, inching together, squeezing, trying to find a good view of the cameras so the cameras could hopefully see them. The lucky ones would listen intently to Mr. Mumphrey and Mr. Westlake, and they would frown and act as if they had no clue there was a camera within two miles of the courthouse. It was the same pathetic routine perfected by members of Congress.

"This morning, we have an indictment in the murder case of Judge Raymond Fawcett and Ms. Naomi Clary," Mumphrey said slowly, his voice nervous and at least two octaves higher than normal. He'd been struggling in the courtroom, losing the slam dunk cases he assigned to himself, and the most common criticism was that he seemed jittery and out of place. Some felt that it was perhaps because he had spent so little time in the courtroom during his unremarkable ten-year career.

Stanley picked up the indictment and held it higher, as if those watching were now expected to read the print. "This indictment is for two counts of murder. The defendant is one Quinn Al Rucker. And, yes, I fully expect to seek the death penalty in this case." This last sentence was supposed to send ripples of drama through the crowd, but Stanley's timing was off. Drama came quickly, though, when an aide flashed a large black-and-white photo of Quinn on a screen. Finally, the world saw the man who killed the judge and his secretary. Guilty!

Reading shakily from his notes, Stanley gave the background on Quinn and managed to convey the impression that Quinn had escaped from prison for the sole purpose of exacting revenge against the judge. At one point, Victor Westlake, standing sentry-like at his shoulder, frowned and glanced down at his notes. But