Chapter Three — TJK
A&B is a class one misdemeanor carrying a maximum penalty of a year in jail. Whether I got one or three convictions was of little significance when you figure I wanted six months as the plea bargain. The key was to put him behind bars as a penalty for his transgression.
I warned Coates’ attorney that he was making a mistake. “If you miscalculate,* your client could end up in jail for a year,” I said. Once again, I didn’t do it to help Coates. I wanted him to dismiss my warning. The haughtier the better, I say.
“We’ll take our chances,” said the attorney, which was code for “F off.”
“We shall see,” said I.
The plea was tendered. The sentencing hearing took place about two weeks ago. Neither Coates nor his counsel knew that the district court judge was herself a victim of domestic violence. Of course, being the recipient of courtroom gossip, I knew it. So did TJK, as it turned out, which surprised me because it was one of those things that is usually confined to the courthouse crowd. Since Coates’ attorney hailed from neighboring Loudoun County, he wasn’t privy to any insider information.
“Does the judge have an obligation to inform the other side?” TJK asked me before the sentencing. I appreciated her desire to see that everyone comported to the appropriate ethical rules.
“Not sure,” I answered, “but I don’t think so. There’s no public record about any domestic violence case involving the judge.” The clerks had checked, if you’re wondering how I knew. “It’s all gossip and innuendo. If the judge feels she can’t be objective, it would be her responsibility to remove^ herself.”
I’ll grant you that it was an obtuse response, but it satisfied TJK. “Good,” TJK replied. “She’s going to nail his ass.”