Written in 61 minutes. Apologies — the legal stuff always takes longer and the parts are a little short because of it 😛

---

Tuesday, October 1, 2024

James M. Hanley Federal Building: Courtroom

“All rise—”

The last time Elizabeth had heard those words, she’d been sitting in a small cramped room at the federal jail, watching a tiny screen for any glimpse of her sons, her life being decided without her presence.

The courtroom itself didn’t feel that official with the bright wood paneling, soft carpeted floor, and the judge’s bench almost at eye level. It felt like a glorified conference room, and  yet—

Elizabeth knew the man striding through a door in the back of the room and taking a seat behind the bench held her life in his hands. He seemed fair when she’d been before him last, but she knew better than to trust the government. Not after these last few weeks. Not after walking into this court room and seeing Gia Campbell of all people sitting next to the man who had charged Elizabeth with murder. Gia had avoided Elizabeth’s gaze, and Elizabeth was left wondering what the other woman’s game was. Why was Gia on this case? And did Noah Reynolds know anything about the Gia’s history in Port Charles?

The courtroom behind her was mostly empty, save for the small contingent that had traveled down from Port Charles to support her. Jason and the boys were in the front pew, then Michael and Carly who were joined by Kevin and Laura. Would that support help her?

“Good morning, Judge McAvoy.” Diane had stood and gone to the podium with her slim, leather portfolio. She opened it, adjusted the microphone. “Your Honor, the defense moves to dismiss the indictment, or in the alternative, to suppress the firearm recovered from Ms. Webber’s vehicle on September 6 of the year. The arrest in this case was predicated on an anonymous tip that has since been demonstrated to be fabricated. I have included affidavits from Detective Harrison Chase, Amy Driscoll, and a copy of the forensics report to support that conclusion. Ms. Driscoll denies making the call, and the metadata reflects manipulation. There is no reliable basis connecting that tip to my client.”

Diane paused for a moment, then continued. “Beyond that, the government’s ballistic evidence remains preliminary. The language used in the report is ‘consistent with.’ It is not a definitive match. Three of the projectiles recovered from the scene were too damaged for comparison. There is no DNA, no fingerprints, no gunshot residue, and no eyewitness testimony placing the weapon in my client’s hands. The broken heel cited by the government is entirely consistent with Ms. Webber’s undisputed presence at the scene rendering medical aid. In addition, witnesses who both saw Ms. Webber leave the terrace and heard the gunshots maintain there was not enough time for her to have traveled to the location of the murder.”

Diane removed her reading glasses, though she’d never once looked down at the document. “At this stage, Your honor, what we have is suspicion layered on inference. The indictment rests on evidence that is equivocal at best, and constitutionally infirm at worst. We ask the Court to dismiss, or at minimum suppress the firearm recovered pursuant to a warrant obtained through a manipulated tip. Thank you.”

Diane returned to the table and took her seat next to Elizabeth while Reynolds strode to the same podium.

“Good morning, Your Honor. The defense is attempting to litigate the weight of the evidence, not the sufficiency of the indictment. A federal grand jury returned this indictment. The firearm was recovered from the defendant’s vehicle. A projectile recovered at the scene is consistent with having been fired from that firearm. A fourth, undamaged, bullet is at the labs, and we have every expectation that we will be able to provide a more definitive match to the firearm found in the vehicle. The defendant was present at the location of the homicide. The questions raised by the defense are matters for trial, not a motion to dismiss.”

The judge lifted his brows. “What about the suggestion that the firearm should be suppressed based on the warrant being granted on fraudulent terms?”

“If Agent Caldwell or myself had sought the warrant knowing the tip was, somehow, manipulated or false, then the defend would have an argument. Agent Caldwell acted in good faith to secure a warrant, and even assuming arguendo that the source was unreliable, the subsequent recovery of the weapon provides independent corroboration.” Reynolds waited a beat. “The indictment is facially sufficient. The motion should be denied.”

He cleared his throat. “Additionally, Your Honor, in light of newly received forensic information and information reflected in local dispatch records, the government intends to move to reconsider the defendant’s release conditions.”

Elizabeth tensed, turned to look at Diane quizzically. “What does that mean? Local dispatch records?”

“I don’t know.” Diane got to her feet. “Your Honor, I’m not sure what Mr. Reynolds is referring to. What forensic information? What dispatch records? We’ve had no notice—”

“This is your notice, Ms. Miller,” Reynolds replied smoothly. “We’re filing today. Your Honor—” He returned his attention to the judge whose expression Elizabeth simply couldn’t read. Her chest began to tighten. “When Ms. Webber was released on bail, Your Honor had determined that the chance of flight was miniscule. As Ms. Miller indicated, the forensics match was merely ‘consistent’ which she could take advantage of a jury’s lack of knowledge to argue. Now, with the fourth bullet likely raising this to a definitive match, Ms. Miller has much less room to argue. And Ms. Webber has all the more reason to leave the jurisdiction, along with the means.”

Diane pursed her lips, planted a fist at her hip. “And the dispatch records?”

Reynolds held out a hand, and Gia—very slowly and almost reluctantly rose to her feet to pass him a folder. “I want to make sure I read the information into the record clearly,” he said, hoping it. “On Sunday, September 15, at 1:03 A.M., 911 received a call that they had nearly hit two teenagers who showed signs of intoxication. They were walking in the road, laughing, holding each other up from falling, and didn’t seem to notice that they’d nearly been struck by the vehicle. They reported that they were on Elm Street, with street addresses numbering 39 and 41.”

Elizabeth’s breath seized, and she forced herself to remain perfectly still. Behind her, Jason’s features were frozen, and the others in various stages of realization — Carly who was completely at sea, Michael who was quizzical but hadn’t yet put the pieces together. But Jake and his brothers —

They knew what was coming.

Jake took Danny’s forearm, squeezed hard. “Do nothing,” he muttered as soon as the attorney had given the date and time. “Nothing.”

“A car is dispatched to the location, but at 1:09 AM, 911 receives another call from the resident at 46 Elm Street. Teenagers are making noise in his driveway, and he can hear pieces of it. They’re talking about drinking, about smoking, and he recognizes one of them as the son of the woman who lives at 44 Elm Street. Aiden Webber.”

“Your Honor,” Diane said, getting to her feet. “I fail to see what this has to do with my client’s case—”

“A police report is filed later that morning by Officer Dex Heller. It states that two juveniles, whose names have been redacted, were brought in with suspicion of underage drinking. They were picked up on Elm Street, and released to their parents,  Dante Faloncieri and Jason Morgan. There is no mention of Aiden Webber, his mother, or the address where the arrest occurred. Ms. Miller has tauted Ms. Webber’s deep community roots. So deep that the local authorities have no problem with doctoring official records to protect her. Since we cannot rely on them to ensure Ms. Webber maintains her bail conditions, we suggest she ought to be placed under the authority of someone who does care about the law. Ms. Webber allowed underage minors to drink and do drugs at her home, and she used her—”

“She didn’t know!” Danny shouted, lunging to his feet, nearly dragging Jake with him. “She didn’t! Arrest me! I did it—”

Jason was already on his feet, reaching for his son who was struggling to get out of Jake and now Cameron’s hold.

“It was all me, okay? Don’t take her away because of me!”

Elizabeth started to turn, to go towards Danny and her sons, her hand outstretched, but Diane caught her. “Don’t make this worse.”

The judge brought down his gavel, the sharp rap startling Elizabeth, jolting her. “Young man. Sit down immediately.”

“But it’s not her fault!” Danny continued, but Jake and Jason had already muscled him back into the row, with Cameron holding Aiden back, an arm slung around his chest, anchoring the younger teenager in place. “You can’t do this! It’s not fair!”

“Let Diane handle it,” Jake told Danny, his face red. “Don’t make this worse—”

“It’s not her fault,” Danny said, and now tears streaked his cheeks. “You don’t let it happen, Dad,” he said, his voice cracking. “Don’t let them take her because of me—”

“It’s not because of you,” Jason told him. “It’s not—come on. Sit down. It’s okay. We’ll handle it.” He looked towards the bench. “I’m sorry. We’ll—we can—”

“I’ll take him outside,” Carly volunteered, coming around to the side, holding out a hand. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go. Let them finish up.”

“It’s not fair,” Danny said, but his voice was cut off by the swinging of the door.

Shaken, Jason dragged a hand down his face, then met Elizabeth’s anguished eyes for a moment, before reluctantly resuming his seat, gesturing for the boys to join her. Aiden, pale and shaking, sat between his brothers, tears glinting on his cheeks.

“My apologies, Your Honor.” Diane cleared her throat, laid a hand flat against her chest. “As you might surmise, this has been a difficult time for my client and her family. If I may have a chance to respond to Mr. Reynold’s recitation of the facts?”

“You may, but any further interruption, and I’ll clear the court room,” the judge said.

“Understood.” Diane waited a beat, collected herself. “Mr. Reynolds is correct, though I don’t think any of us were aware that a second 911 had been made. Aiden Webber is fourteen, and he also received a call around that time. From his cousin, Rocco Falconieri. Rocco and Danny were on Aiden’s lawn and had been kicked out of the party where they had been drinking alcohol and using a weed vape. Aiden acted impulsively as teenagers do, went downstairs to try to get them to leave. He didn’t want to get in trouble from his mother who had no idea that he had also been drinking occasionally. When the boys were taken into custody, Aiden immediately surrendered his phone and offered to take any test to prove he was sober. His phone revealed a SnapChat photo sent by Rocco and Danny from the party — proving that they hadn’t been together that night. There was no reason to include Aiden in the report, and the officers wrote down the address to which they had originally been dispatched. Since no official arrest occurred, there was no reason to write down another address. Indeed, the officers might not know have known about a second 911 call as they’d been dispatched on the original call. There is no corruption, Your Honor.”

“One of the teenagers now lives with Ms. Webber,” Reynolds interjected before the judge could say anything. “He’s already admitted it was him—”

“Danny is in therapy for substance abuse. His father learned that he had a problem and sought to get him help. They’re teenagers, Your Honors. They act with impulsive and gut, as you can see from what just happened. Ms. Webber did nothing wrong that night. Neither did her son. There is no call to use it against her.”

“Thank you, I think I’ve heard enough.” The judge took a moment, then continued. “Let me first address the motion to dismiss. “The Court’s role at this stage is limited. An indict returned by a legally constituted and unbiased jury is sufficient if it sets forth the elements of the offense charged. The defense arguments go to the weight and credibility of the evidence. Those are issues for a jury.” He met Reynolds’ gaze. “And make no mistake, Mr. Reynolds, those are issues to consider. However, the motion is dismissed. With respect to suppression of the firearm, the Court finds that the warrant was supported by probable cause at the time it was issued, and that motion is also dismissed.”

He shuffled some papers, then continued. “As to the government’s stated intention to seek reconsideration of release, the Court will not address detention in an ad hoc manner today. If the government believes revocation is warranted, then they should file a brief with their reasons, and let me be clear, Ms. Webber and her son merely being present while someone else commits a crime is not particularly convincing, but if there is some reason to doubt the local authorities ability to enforce bail conditions, I want to know. We’ll have a full hearing on the matter once the paperwork has been filed.”

He focused on Elizabeth. “Ms. Webber, you are reminded that strict compliance with all conditions of release is mandatory. Any violation—or any material change in the forensic posture of this case—will result in immediate reconsideration of your detention status. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Your Honor,” Elizabeth managed, her hands curled into fists in her lap.

“All right.” The judge lifted his gavel. “Court is adjourned.”