An Insignificant Case

Chapter Seven

CHAPTER SEVEN

Charlie woke up at eight forty-five on Monday. He wasn’t worried about getting to his law office late. He had no court appearances or client meetings scheduled because he only had a few clients and none with pressing business.

He rented a small office in a suite on the tenth floor of an old office building in downtown Portland. The main tenant was a ten-person firm that specialized in personal injury and family law. He paid his rent partly in cash and partly by doing work for the firm at an hourly rate.

His office was furnished with a scarred wooden desk, two client chairs, and a bookcase where he put his law school texts because the binding on the spines looked impressive. The decorations were Spartan, consisting of his college and law school diplomas and fancy documents that attested to his membership in the Oregon and Federal Bars.

Charlie was at work by a little after ten, and he’d just settled in when the receptionist told him that he had a call from the court administrator. When he hung up, he had mixed emotions. He hadn’t had a new client this month, so being appointed to represent an indigent “alleged” criminal was nice, but court-appointed cases paid diddly-squat. Still, some money was better than no money, so he straightened his tie, hoisted his attaché case, and headed for the Justice Center, where newly arrested individuals were arraigned.

It only took ten minutes to get to the Justice Center from Charlie’s office. It had been raining for most of the week, but the sun was out this morning. Charlie walked into the center’s vaulted lobby and took the curving staircase to the next floor, where he saw Deputy District Attorney Monica Reyes in an earnest discussion with a lawyer who had a contract to represent indigent defendants. Reyes was carrying an armful of case files, and Charlie knew that one of them would have Guido Sabatini’s name on its label.

Charlie had tried a case against Reyes, and she had been fair and reasonable, so he hoped they could work a deal if it turned out—as it usually did—that everyone could stop using the word alleged when referring to his new client.

“Hey, Monica,” Charlie said when she was free.

“Oh, hi, Charlie. Who do you have?”

“Guido Sabatini. It’s a burglary charge.”

Monica rolled her eyes. “May God have mercy on your soul.”

“You know him?”

“Oh yeah. And he’s a genuine, grade A fruitcake.”

Charlie frowned. “What’s the story?”

Monica found Guido’s file and handed copies of the indictment and several police reports to Charlie.

“First of all, his name isn’t Guido Sabatini. It’s Lawrence Weiss, but he refuses to answer to that name and insists on being called Guido Sabatini. He claims he’s the reincarnation of a Renaissance painter who worked with Michelangelo and Leonardo da Vinci.”

Charlie grimaced. “Do you have any Xanax on you?”

Monica laughed. “You’ll need something stronger by the time you finish representing Guido. I’ll check with the guys in Vice and Narcotics and see if they’ve got anything for you in the evidence locker.”

“What has Guido allegedly done?”

“Nothing serious. He’s actually an excellent artist, and he goes to restaurants and sells the owner a painting. Then he becomes incensed if the painting isn’t displayed where he wants it to be. If the owner refuses to change the painting’s location, Guido ‘liberates’ it. This is his third offense. I just gave you the reports in the other thefts.

“In your case, the restaurant is La Bella Roma. The arresting officers didn’t find the painting when they arrested Guido. I’ve been told that I can dismiss the case if Guido returns it. Also, he may have taken something from a safe in the owner’s office. We’ll want that back too.”

“Okay. Let me talk to my client. What about getting him out of jail? Do you want him to post bail, or will you go with recog?”

“My boss says I can go along with a release on his own recognizance. Judge Noonan presided over Mr. Sabatini’s other cases. He knows he’s nuts, but he also knows that Guido will show up for court.”

It was time for the arraignments to start, so Charlie followed Monica into the courtroom and took a seat in the front row.

Charlie took a seat in the front row of the spectator section. Guido’s case was third on the docket, and Charlie walked through the bar of the court when it was called. Moments later, two guards brought his client into the courtroom. Guido was dressed in his floor-length caftan, and everyone stared as the guards placed him next to his court-appointed lawyer.

“I’m Charlie Webb, Mr.… Should I call you Mr. Weiss or Mr. Sabatini?”

“I am Guido Sabatini!”

“Right. So, Guido, do you know what’s going to happen next?”

Guido smiled. “This is not—as they say—my first rodeo. Is the nice lady at the other table going to allow my release on my own recognizance? I need to get back to my painting.”

“The DA won’t object if I ask the judge to let you out on your word that you’ll show up for all of your court appearances.”

“You have my word that I will appear when summoned.”

“Good.” Charlie handed Guido his card. “I had a nice talk with the DA, and I think I can get you out of your scrape with very little wear and tear.”

Anthony Noonan was handling arraignments. Charlie had tried one case in the judge’s court, and he thought that the judge was fair. Noonan always wore short-sleeve shirts under his robe. Every time the judge’s robe fell back along his forearms, Charlie could see the tattoos Noonan had gotten in the Marine Corps. The judge had gone to college after the service, then worked his way through law school at night while driving a truck during the day. He was in his midsixties, but he still looked fit, and he had been on the bench long enough to have seen it all. When Guido was brought into the courtroom, Noonan shook his head.

“Are you ready to proceed, Mr. Webb?” Judge Noonan asked when he thought Charlie had had enough time to get acquainted with his new client.

“We are, Your Honor.”

The judge looked at the prosecutor and sighed. “What has Mr. Weiss done now?”

“Sabatini, Your Honor,” Guido said.

From his past experience with the defendant, the judge knew that Guido would not answer if he was called by his real name. “I forgot myself,” Judge Noonan said. “What has Mr. Sabatini done this time?”

“He broke into La Bella Roma Italian Ristorante and… liberated a painting of a Venice canal he’d sold to Gretchen Hall, the owner. It’s also possible that he took something from the safe in Miss Hall’s office.”

Charlie frowned. The name Gretchen Hall sounded familiar, but he couldn’t remember why.

The judge turned his attention to Charlie’s client.

“So, Mr. Sabatini, you’re back to your old tricks.”

Guido shrugged. “Unfortunately, Your Honor, great art is not appreciated in this world of TikToks and video games.”

“On that, we are agreed. But your means of expressing your displeasure is—as I’m sure your attorney will explain to you—forbidden by the laws of this state. How do you plead to the charge?”

“Mr. Sabatini pleads not guilty, Your Honor,” Charlie said. “Miss Reyes and I discussed the matter of release, and she has no objection to Mr. Sabatini being released on his own recognizance.”

“Is that correct, Miss Reyes?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

The judge looked Guido in the eyes. “I’m going to let you out on your own recognizance, Mr. Sabatini. I do this reluctantly, given your history.”

“Thank you, Your Honor.” Guido smiled. “You have always shown me mercy, and it would give me great pleasure to gift you a painting of one of the saints, whose merciful actions you personify.”

“I’m sure one of your paintings would brighten my courtroom. Unfortunately, I am not allowed to accept gifts from litigants. And given your track record, I would be afraid that you would break into the courthouse and ‘liberate’ it.”

“I assure you, I would not.”

“Mr. Sabatini, please stop doing what you’re doing,” the judge said. “You are a nuisance, and you are trying my patience. If I find you back here again, I will lock you up and set a very high bail.”

The judge turned to his bailiff. “Please call the next case.”

“You’ll be processed out pretty soon,” Charlie told Guido. “I’m going to my office. Come over when you get out. I’ll have time to read the police reports by then, and I’ll have a better handle on your case.”

Guido smiled. “Thank you for your excellent assistance, Mr. Webb. I look forward to discussing how Miss Hall offended me and my wonderful portrait of a moonlit canal in Venice.”

When Charlie got back to his office, he told the receptionist that Jesus Christ would be asking for him sometime in the afternoon and she was to treat him like any other client. Then he went into his office and read the reports of Guido’s other encounters with the law. An hour and a half later, the receptionist buzzed Charlie and told him that a Mr. Sabatini would like to see him.

Charlie went into the waiting area and escorted Guido down the hall to his office. When he entered, Guido looked around the room.

“You could use some art to brighten your office,” Guido said.

“Agreed,” Charlie said. “Have a seat.”

Guido sat in one of the client chairs and beamed at Charlie.

“The DA gave me the file for your other cases, and they have photographs of the paintings you… liberated. They’re really good.”

“Of course. I had the finest teachers. Have you been to Italia and seen the works of da Vinci and Michelangelo?”

“Uh, not yet.”

Guido smiled. “You must go.”

“Yeah, it’s on my list. So, Guido, I’d love to see the painting of the canal in Venice that you sold to Miss Hall. Why don’t we go get it and bring it back to her so we can get your case dismissed?”

Guido stiffened. “I will not return my painting to a Neanderthal who thinks so little of it that she hides it away where no one can see it.”

“If you don’t return the painting, you’ll go to jail.”

Guido smiled patiently at Charlie like someone with a secret. “I don’t think so, Mr. Webb. I am certain that Miss Hall will ask for my case to be dismissed if you tell her that I will return my painting and everything else to her, if she agrees in writing to hang it in the dining room of La Bella Roma Italian Ristorante and asks the district attorney to drop her charges.”

Charlie frowned. “What is ‘everything else’?”

Guido’s smile widened. “That, as they say, is for me to know and you to find out.” He stood up. “And now I must return to my studio. My muse calls to me.”

“But, Mr. Sabatini…”

Guido stopped at the door and smiled. “I know you will do your best, Mr. Webb, but I have another counselor who protects me.”

Charlie frowned. “You hired a lawyer?”

“No. God does not require a fee to protect his children.”

And with that parting shot, Guido Sabatini walked out. Charlie watched him go, puzzled by Guido’s belief that Gretchen Hall would drop the charges, dying to know what else Guido had stolen from La Bella Roma and wondering why Hall’s name sounded familiar.

Monica Reyes was right. Guido was a grade A fruitcake. He decided that he would take up her offer to get him powerful drugs from the police evidence locker. He was going to need them as long as Guido was his client.