officers. Some of the inmates are only there because of Captain Stanton’s efforts to protect the public.”
Richard interjects. “Is Mr. Carpenter suggesting that New Jersey does not have the ability to protect the defendant?”
I turn to Richard. “I would imagine that Sergeant McCoy’s family would be somewhat skeptical of that ability. But let’s assume for the moment that the prison authorities would take the necessary steps to keep Captain Stanton safe. How much would that cost? And would he have to live in solitary confinement? Is that a fair reward for arresting criminals?”
Turning back to the judge, I say, “House arrest and electronic monitoring should be more than sufficient, but if it would make the court feel more secure, the defense would be willing to pay for guards at the defendant’s house. And we would find a significant bail to be appropriate and acceptable.”
I can feel Pete staring at me, but I don’t turn to look at him. Instead, I continue, hoping to close the deal. “The defendant would be confined, the public safety would be ensured, and there would be no expense to the government. It is the textbook definition of a win-win.”
I consider asking that he be allowed to stay at my house instead, but I’m afraid the state would then make Ricky leave, since living with his father’s accused murderer might not be viewed by Children’s Services as ideal.
Richard renews his objections, and Judge Matthews takes a few moments to consider her decision. “Very well,” she finally says. “The defendant will be confined to his own house, with electronic monitoring, and round-the-clock police guards, paid for by the defense.”
Richard, accepting the defeat, says, “Your Honor, a search warrant is being executed on the defendant’s house this afternoon. Therefore we would request that he remain in custody until tomorrow.”
“I was going to suggest tomorrow anyhow,” she says. “To that end, Mr. Wallace, please provide the court by tomorrow morning a full plan for how the house detention would be executed.”
“Yes, Your Honor,” Richard says.
Judge Matthews continues. “Bail is set at $750,000.”
She adjourns the proceeding, and Pete immediately says, “Andy, I don’t have $750,000. I’m short about $749,000.”
“Really?” I ask. “What have you been doing with all the money you haven’t been spending on beer and hamburgers?”
“Andy, what the hell are you doing?”
“I’m loaning you the money, interest free. Assuming you don’t skip bail, I’ll get it back. If you do skip bail, I’ll hunt you down and shoot you like the animal that you are.”
“Andy, I can’t let you do this.”
“If the situation was reversed, would you do it for me?”
“Not a chance in hell.”
“Good. That proves I’m a better person than you.” As the guard comes over to take him, I tap him on the shoulder and say, “Hang in there. You’re out tomorrow.”
Tommy Haller is, at his core, a very successful businessman.
He started an operation from scratch, found a product that there was a demand for, and brought that product to market. He has managed to maintain and increase his market share, and is known to be fiercely competitive.
It would be fair to say that Tommy is living the American dream, if not for the fact that the products he sells are hard, illegal drugs. And if not for the fact that he often eliminates his competitors by killing them.
Organized crime in northern New Jersey has long been dominated by Dominic Petrone, but Petrone is aging, and his grip is loosening. On his worst days, Petrone, while responsible for countless illegal activities, including murder when he deems it necessary, is Mother Teresa compared to Tommy Haller.
Petrone has never shown much enthusiasm for the drug trade, and that reticence allowed others to move in. At one point the main operative in the area was one Carlos Quintana, a truly psychotic killer whose demise I helped
Richard interjects. “Is Mr. Carpenter suggesting that New Jersey does not have the ability to protect the defendant?”
I turn to Richard. “I would imagine that Sergeant McCoy’s family would be somewhat skeptical of that ability. But let’s assume for the moment that the prison authorities would take the necessary steps to keep Captain Stanton safe. How much would that cost? And would he have to live in solitary confinement? Is that a fair reward for arresting criminals?”
Turning back to the judge, I say, “House arrest and electronic monitoring should be more than sufficient, but if it would make the court feel more secure, the defense would be willing to pay for guards at the defendant’s house. And we would find a significant bail to be appropriate and acceptable.”
I can feel Pete staring at me, but I don’t turn to look at him. Instead, I continue, hoping to close the deal. “The defendant would be confined, the public safety would be ensured, and there would be no expense to the government. It is the textbook definition of a win-win.”
I consider asking that he be allowed to stay at my house instead, but I’m afraid the state would then make Ricky leave, since living with his father’s accused murderer might not be viewed by Children’s Services as ideal.
Richard renews his objections, and Judge Matthews takes a few moments to consider her decision. “Very well,” she finally says. “The defendant will be confined to his own house, with electronic monitoring, and round-the-clock police guards, paid for by the defense.”
Richard, accepting the defeat, says, “Your Honor, a search warrant is being executed on the defendant’s house this afternoon. Therefore we would request that he remain in custody until tomorrow.”
“I was going to suggest tomorrow anyhow,” she says. “To that end, Mr. Wallace, please provide the court by tomorrow morning a full plan for how the house detention would be executed.”
“Yes, Your Honor,” Richard says.
Judge Matthews continues. “Bail is set at $750,000.”
She adjourns the proceeding, and Pete immediately says, “Andy, I don’t have $750,000. I’m short about $749,000.”
“Really?” I ask. “What have you been doing with all the money you haven’t been spending on beer and hamburgers?”
“Andy, what the hell are you doing?”
“I’m loaning you the money, interest free. Assuming you don’t skip bail, I’ll get it back. If you do skip bail, I’ll hunt you down and shoot you like the animal that you are.”
“Andy, I can’t let you do this.”
“If the situation was reversed, would you do it for me?”
“Not a chance in hell.”
“Good. That proves I’m a better person than you.” As the guard comes over to take him, I tap him on the shoulder and say, “Hang in there. You’re out tomorrow.”
Tommy Haller is, at his core, a very successful businessman.
He started an operation from scratch, found a product that there was a demand for, and brought that product to market. He has managed to maintain and increase his market share, and is known to be fiercely competitive.
It would be fair to say that Tommy is living the American dream, if not for the fact that the products he sells are hard, illegal drugs. And if not for the fact that he often eliminates his competitors by killing them.
Organized crime in northern New Jersey has long been dominated by Dominic Petrone, but Petrone is aging, and his grip is loosening. On his worst days, Petrone, while responsible for countless illegal activities, including murder when he deems it necessary, is Mother Teresa compared to Tommy Haller.
Petrone has never shown much enthusiasm for the drug trade, and that reticence allowed others to move in. At one point the main operative in the area was one Carlos Quintana, a truly psychotic killer whose demise I helped
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