Crime & Punishment Pt. 04

The local police got there first, but soon seeded the scene to the state police. The FBI showed up but got the brush off. They were out of their jurisdiction and prominent people were concerned. Frank Patterson had more friends in death than he had in life. The investigation was quick and conclusive. Frank died of a heroin overdose; a very high quality of the drug had been apparently snorted or otherwise ingested.

When found Frank had been dead several days and his activities on the day of his death were vague. Those who had seen him early that evening thought he might have been with a dark haired woman, but no one knew her. Not one of his regular lady friends. At any rate nothing suggested others were involved. Franks alcohol abuse and his life style suggested he may have fallen victim to experimenting with a drug he was not familiar with. The State Police report was accidental overdose, but many were doubtful. However, all they had were doubts.

*****

The release of the Grand Jury verdict had to be done with care. I wanted as little publicity as possible. Fridays are busy news days by releasing late Thursday we missed that cycle and hopefully headed into a cycle where the news from upstate New York would get buried. Well it was an idea.

Thursday at four forty-five we issued the decision. At five thirty Kat came into my office.

"Thought you went home," I said.

"The lobby is filled with reporters and camera crews looking for you," she said.

I gave a frustrated sigh knowing there was no escape only delay.

"Ok, issue a statement that there will be a press conference tomorrow at Noon as I sneak out through the garage," I said hoping that this would become unimportant by the following day.

I managed to get home without incident only to find the press on my lawn waiting. There weren't that many, the cable news and two local newspapers. As I hobbled on my crutches toward my front door I put them off pleading the news conference the following day. But they surprised me asking that I comment on the statement by Steven Fitzgerald.

"And what did Mr. Fitzgerald have to say?" I asked.

The girl from the cable news stuck a microphone in my face as she said: "Foxy says you can't make a case so you are side-stepping the issue."

I laughed, "Well maybe he thinks he can do better," I said as I ducked into my house leaving them with something but not much. Steven was only doing his job kicking the ball back to my end of the field.

I knew something was wrong when I entered the house. It was dark and silent although Laura's Mercedes was parked in the driveway.

She was in the back bedroom where she had been sleeping. We had not been sharing a bed. At first this was purely my physical and emotional condition but later it was partly hers. She was not sleeping well. They say some women glow when they are pregnant, not Laura. She got much bigger in the belly, but smaller almost everywhere else. Her face was thin and drawn with dark circles under her eyes. She had seemed to be in a general decline.

In truth, I had not been much of a husband or future father. I had let my pride and anger loose on her without regard for the consequences. Lately, involved with the problems of the special counsel office, I had been indifferent to her. Now she was lying on the bed fully clothed, her breathing labored and her skin tone a sickly gray. I tried to wake her but she was unresponsive. I called 911.

The ambulance arrived with the cable news still hanging about. Apparently, they monitor the emergency broadcasts. They filmed the whole scene of the paramedics arriving followed by the ambulance. We took Laura to the hospital. We arrived and I was scuttled to a waiting room where I could watch what just happened on the TV.

Two hours later I met with Laura's OBGYN, a late fifties woman with gray hair pulled back into a bun. She was about five foot four worth of pissed off.

"What about being a husband and father don't you understand Mr. Sullivan?"

"Look things are a little strained in our marriage right now."

"Oh, so when I've been telling you for months that your wife needed to work less and eat more, you never heard me? And you are blind as well as deaf. Did you even notice whether she was eating or taking the vitamins and supplements I was prescribing?" she asked giving me that look women reserve for idiots.

"We haven't been eating much together since she set the kitchen ablaze. I tried a few times but she didn't seem to keep her food down," I said realizing that I had left a woman who can't cook on her own most of the time.

She shook her head. "YOUR WIFE is dehydrated, emaciated, and anemic and that's just her. The baby I fear will be low birth weight with all the complications that involves. Now I suggest that you pull yourself together and start acting like a husband and a soon to be father." With that said she left me to ponder my short comings.

They let me into Laura's room, she still wasn't awake. A kindly nurse assured me she was stable and would be all right. I hunkered down in a rather uncomfortable chair and waited. We were in the ICU for the night. I was told my being allowed to stay was a privilege they were granting me due to the situation. Between the bouts of guilt and the uncomfortable chair I did not get much sleep. Early the next morning Laura was awake, and they were getting ready to move her to another room. They were serving her breakfast and it was not optional. I stayed to make sure she ate.

I wanted to speak to her but before I could in breezed Susan Singleton.

"Laura what going on, your all over the news?" Susan said.

Laura looked guilty and embarrassed, "I had a bad spell yesterday, worked too hard I guess," she said in a weak voice.

"Well get ready for some company. The Governor's coming to see you," Susan gushed.

The Hospital staff was excited. The Governor was making his visit with the media in tow. Laura was placed in a private room. She was made as presentable as possible. Security showed up and everyone was turned out from hospital administrators to Laura doctor who looked a bit tired.

Edward Kincade came into the room alone, shooing Susan out as he did. He shook my hand and patted me on the shoulder.

"Damn good job on the Hoffman case Pat, knew I picked you for a reason," The Governor said then turned to Laura.

"You gave us a scare young woman, but your doctor assures me you are going to be all right. We having a boy or a girl?" he asked.

"A girl, Governor," she said.

"Hey just Ed or Gov if you must, when we're alone. Now I'm glad you're feeling better, but I must steal your husband for a few minutes. I will send him back soon with orders to stay with you until you are better." Then he dragged me into the corner.

"What do I need to know about the Hoffman situation?" he asked. So I gave him a brief run down.

"Shit, who else knows this?"

"My investigator Phil Sloan and of course the hospital staff who treated Ms. Hoffman," I said.

"Ok now keep a lid on it while I try to save Hoffman's career. But now you and I need to go out and take a bow and assure the public that everything is just fine with everyone, especially Laura here. That's right everything is fine with your wife, no stupid problems with things that are over, done and best forgotten," he said with a nonnegotiable look.

I nodded as once again I realized I had maneuvered myself to a place I did not want to be.

The press conference that followed was brief and to the point. Jerry Hoffman was a good man wrongly accused. The people of the state owed a debt of gratitude to the hard working special prosecutor who had sacrificed much to see justice done. I took my bow and then was plummeted with questions about my wife's health. Laura had upstaged the indictment. But it was not all clear sailing; the reporter from the Rochester Gazette was not being distracted. He asked about Jerry Jr. and why he was not indicted. I gave my prepared answer about Jurisdiction. At that moment Susan stepped in.

"I believe we need to let the Special Prosecutor go back to his wife now," she said and with that broke up the press conference.

At that point I was allowed to go back to my wife's room. Laura was asleep. Around noon Kat called and I dictated a formal statement on the indictment which said nothing. She went down and read it to the assembled reports with my regrets that I was unavailable due to a family emergency. The reporters wanted updates on Laura's condition. Kat told them she was well and sleeping.

The nurse woke Laura at 12:45 for lunch. It was time to talk.

"What do you think you're doing Laura?" I began.

"I'm sorry, I made more trouble, but I didn't mean to."

"Why haven't you been eating?"

"I get sick."

"You could have told me you were having serious problems."

"I couldn't, what was I going to say, I failed as a wife and now I'm going to fail as a mother."

"You're not going to fail as a mother. We'll work on your diet and fatten you up, keep you home and rested. Solomon can get along without you for a while."

"I wish it were that simple," she said "I'm no good at this. I tried, believe me I tried."

"So now we will try," I said.

"You don't mean that."

"Don't tell me what I mean. For now we're in this together. Live with it," I said.

She broke down crying. I wasn't sure why. The nurse came in and told me to leave for a bit.

I spent the next three days in and around the Hospital before they sent her home. The rest of the world was not standing still. Reporters were calling my office trying to find out anything. They were also sneaking around the Hospital. The doctor confronted me on the third day.

"I'm going to release your wife to go home. That means home not work. I also want someone with her at all times for the present. She is stable and we need to keep her that way. I have a visiting nurse set up to help her. I recommend you get a home health aide." She was giving me a look like she expected a fight.

"I'm not the problem here. Laura seems to be having problems accepting help. Seems to think it is some kind of failure on her part," I said.

"She is depressed. I believe it's your marital situation. If I were you I'd put on a happy face, if not for her think of the baby," she said then she reached out and grasped my shoulder. "Marriage is never easy- being a parent is harder. Sometimes you have to do what your family needs not what you want. It's time to grow up."

I would have argued, but she was right. Don my therapist gave me some good leads on home health workers and a nice fortyish mother of three was hired to help. She was a cheerful woman who meshed well with Laura and was very supportive. She had lots of tricks to keep the food down and the expectant mother's spirits up.

Things were looking up until we got the phone call. Kat fielded it first then in went to Mary Ellen, but he was not being put off and he wanted to speak to the boss.

"This is Jack Rubins from the Rochester—"he began, but I cut him off.

"I know who you are Mr. Rubins and where you're from, as my staff said we have no comment."

"I still have to ask," he said.

"Then go ahead."

"You obviously know about Elsa Hoffman's extra marital affair and the miscarriage. So how and when did you learn those facts?" I could hear the smug satisfaction in his voice. He had done his job, now he wanted to reap the maximum return.

"The question is how did you learn those facts Mr. Rubin. I can only think that you bribed some person or persons, possibly public officials," I said.

"My sources are confidential," he said.

"Yes, but I would much rather prosecute you," I said hoping to run this bluff.

"Your crazy how can you do that?"

"Poorly written statute doesn't say what I can or can't do."

"Yes and I know you must have done something illegal to get your information," he said.

"Pity there's no one charged with prosecuting me," I said.

"Ok I get it- want to make a statement or not?"

"If I see a fair article that tries not to be too scandalous, I won't ask how you got your information and I'll send you a copy of my report to the legislature the day I file it," I said.

"You're going to file a report on the Hoffman case," he asked

"No, just a quarterly report that outlines our activities and what my staff discovered on any matter investigated," I said.

"When can I expect to see this report?" he asked.

"Well this is Wednesday next Tuesday I should think."

Several days later Jack Rubin broke the story in the Rochester Gazette. He was very fair. He gave the history of the Hoffman's long marriage and described Elsa's major injury as unintended. But he laid it out including his belief that my office had discovered most of this information, although that was stated to be speculation.

The New York City tabloids were not near as kind. They opened with pictures side by side of Mrs. Hoffman and her lover.

I had given Mary Ellen the job of writing our version. She did a great job, Phil came out looking like Sherlock Homes and I like a remarkably skilled prosecutor who gambled and won. Our version said nothing about a miscarriage which we believed; "was not supported by the facts". The affair was fairly certain based on the witnesses at the correctional facility, but Senator Hoffman's innocence was beyond doubt due to his travel that evening.

"Hello MACHER," Saul Solomon said when I picked up the phone. "You know what that means?" he asked.

"Yiddish for big shot," I said.

"Ten million big, you got funded. The Dems wanted to give you five but the opposition wanted to make sure you would be happy, so they amended it up and gave you the same salary as the Governor." He said.

"Thank you," I said and meant it.

"My pleasure, but you did well; you'll be a politician yet."

"Have you seen the Times today?" Saul asked.

"No, I try not to read the City papers."

"Read the Editorial Macher," he said then hung up.

New York Times July 8, 2014.

THE GOVERNOR CHOSE WELL

Many, ourselves included, wondered if Governor Edward Kincade's choice for what amounted to a Corruption CZAR was up to the task. Patrick X. Sullivan, the little known former VanPatten County prosecutor was both young and inexperienced. What recognition he had earned was for courage in standing up to a vicious drug gang. He is a direct sort of young man who was not known for his legal or political skills. His close ties to the Governor, his mentor, were also troubling in an office that clearly needed an independent person.

The doubters have been proven wrong; with skill and a gambler's daring, the young prosecutor has proven himself more than worthy of his office. He has resolved a difficult and troubling incident and restored the reputation of a respected public official. Sullivan had done so in spite of a physical limitation and at some considerable personal cost. Now it is up to the legislature. Fund the office you created now that it is occupied by the proper person.

In reality I had one last problem. She was past seven months pregnant, doing physically better, but still not out of the woods. What amazed me was how I had misjudged her. She had seemed this confident even dynamic person, always in control, able to climb the rickety latter of the corporate law firm. She was the classic over-achiever. How could I know that it was all a front, that beneath the surface she was this insecure girl?

What I had taken for strength was weakness. She wasn't reaching for me as an equal; I was the buttress she was trying to lean on. She was weak and I was strong, and she had expected me to support her no matter what she did. Manipulating me was part of the game. She could not win fair, she had to cheat. But it was different from Steven, who cheated for the fun of it, or I who cheated to win. My beautiful and sexy wife cheated to survive.

Laura's current problem was that there was no cheating the little person inside her who was getting ready to come out. The closer the time came the greater her fear grew. She had the names picked out, Bridget for my mother and Ellen for hers. Little Bridget E Sullivan was awaited by both our family's with anticipation.

*****

I was rocking on the odd slide-swing set that Laura and Don had set up on the back patio. It was a comfortable seat. Bridget was in my arms, her mother was hovering nearby. My daughter had ten little fingers and toes and they were all wrapped firmly around my heart. I started loving her when she came bloody from her mother's womb, all six pounds two ounces of her. She had a little dark hair then now six weeks later it was a few white hairs. My mother said she would be a red head, "That's how you started all colorless."

The families that had descended on us after the birth had gone home, now we were alone except for the hired help. Laura was proving to be super mom, the over-achiever had settled in again. She had given birth without a whimper and was out of the hospital the same day, against the doctor's wishes. She had already informed me or was it warned me she would no longer be using birth control.

"If you stay with me this is going to be a traditional marriage. I'll work only part-time because I'm still no good at being a housewife, but I will be barefoot in the kitchen and pregnant most of the time," she said.

"Absolutely not," I replied.

"Pat please I want to do this."

"Laura barefoot ok, pregnant maybe if you behave, but kitchen never, it's strictly off limits." I said.

She laughed. "Ok, just barefoot and pregnant." Then hugging me she asked:

"Am I forgiven?"

"No, but I love you and my daughter so I'll stick around, besides your good for the image."

Indeed she was, she got nice press coverage for the birth. Yes I did forgive her but I would never tell her that. As to worrying about her future fidelity, well the rumors still keep going around about what happened to poor Frank. I think most people make some assumptions. A man would need a lot of courage to fool with Mrs. Sullivan, which is what people call my wife these days.

I handed Bridget to her mother.

"I have to go they're waiting for me," I said.

She nodded and gave me a wan smile, "Please don't be long, I miss you when you're gone."

"I won't be long, I just need to meet some politicians."

She did not say what she was thinking, which was that a politician was exactly what I had become. Odd when you think of it, I do not seem well suited to the profession. I have to struggle with it every day. But as I left, I took a long look at my wife sitting with our baby in her arm. Laura had a broad smile and I realized that I had never really seen her this happy or relaxed. All her fears were fading. This was my family and I would protect it.

*****

Epilogue

The service was held in a Troy in little church near the Hudson. It was a relatively new Church by Troy standards dating from the middle of the nineteenth century. A stone building composed of Manhattan Sand Stone normally referred to as brown stone. The stones were set well. They showed wear, but not deterioration. Small grooves showed along the foundation where the Hudson had flooded over the centuries.

The memorial service had been well planned by a junior associate of the firm. Frank Patterson had been officially listed as a Methodist, but the Church was one of Tory's Episcopal houses of worship with their tiffany stained glass windows and tolerant attitudes. Death by drug overdose was of no concern. The fact that the deceased and few of the attendees were of the Episcopal faith made the service no different than the average Sunday service since few of the attendees at any service were Episcopalian. Being Christian was nice, but not required.

The black priest who oversaw the service was not remotely familiar with the decedent, but he did a remarkable job of invoking the proper spirit of the one year anniversary of the death. Saul Solomon was well pleased with the turn out and the service that he had determined was the proper tribute to a fallen member of the firm. All went remarkable well; several of the staff spoke in tribute to Frank including Saul who left none in doubt that he saw this death as a tragic accident. He had already made clear he would tolerate no spreading of rumors otherwise in the office or out.