She said:
Jack, the judge was out to get you.
And knew he was in good hands. He saw she was comfortable with him and he said, No, it's the way the man is. Hands out thirty years like he's happy to oblige. It's why he's known as Maximum Bob.
He liked the way she did her hair, only sort of combed, like the girl who used to be on CNN Foley believed he'd fall in love with if they ever met. At this moment he couldn't think of her name, Miss Megan Norris holding his attention. He believed Miss Megan could have her pick of guys; he couldn't see her spending time with a little Cuban who'd come eye-level with her neckline and try his best to look in.
Megan's next question, Why didn't you fire that dump truck you had for an attorney? He allowed testimony outside Miranda that you'd robbed as many as two hundred banks.
Every time my lawyer stood up, Foley said, the judge told him to sit down.
And he did, never stating his objections.
Lou Adams, the FBI agent, came to see me when I was being held at Gun Club. First he said we had something in common, both of us born and raised in New Orleans. He had a list of bank robberies under investigation and wondered if he read them off I'd tell him the ones I did. Like I'd want to help him out since we're both from the Big Easy, both love our hometown when it wasn't under water. Special Agent Lou Adams seemed surprised when I questioned his intention. He said it was so they could close any cases I could help him with, file 'em away. I said, 'You're having fun with me, aren't you?' and kept my mouth shut. But once Lou got on the stand he swore I'd robbed a couple hundred banks and believed he could name them. My lawyer raised his voice objecting, but Maximum Bob allowed it. He said, 'Let the witness have his say, this is good stuff.' That's how he talks, His Honor Bob Isom Gibbs. Out of court he's also called Big, but he's a little bitty guy.
He sits on cushions, Megan said, behind the bench. What you say is pretty much what I got from the transcript. I think I can get this reversed based on the judge's behavior and the FBI agent's imagination. We either retry it or work out a deal. Your buddy Cundo is taking care of my fee.
He never told me what you're asking.
What I'm getting, not asking. Fifteen thousand for this one. But we'll avoid going to trial again. Thirty years, according to sentencing guidelines, is the maximum you can get. I'll ask the state attorney about a deal, consider the minimum sentence less time served, and see if I can get no parole as part of the deal. I think Jerry already sees the problem with the case and will go along with what we want. He's a no-bullshit kind of guy. Why hang you up that long for no reason? One of these days he'll run for judge and make it.
All that work for fifteen grand, Foley said, even if it takes you a couple of days.
It could take twenty minutes, Megan said, you get back as much as twenty-seven years of your life. Put a price on that. She said then, You're wondering how you'll repay your buddy, aren't you? Or how he might ask you to work it off.
It's crossed my mind, Foley said.
You'll owe him at least thirty thousand before we're through. The next court appearance will be an exam on the escape case. Corrections would simply extend your sentence. But this examination will focus on kidnapping, the abduction of a federal officer you held as hostage.
Karen?
It was the first time in months he had said her name out loud.
Foley eased straight up in his chair.
Karen Sisco, Megan said, with the Marshals Service. Also an attempted robbery and several homicides the prosecutor in Detroit wants to know about. So there could be more court time up north.
I have to appear in Detroit?
You thought you were getting away with it?
Karen shot me. What am I getting away with?
We'll go over it the next time I see you, Megan said, later in the week. I want to talk to Karen first.
I'll tell you right now, Foley said, I didn't kidnap her or hold her
Jack, the judge was out to get you.
And knew he was in good hands. He saw she was comfortable with him and he said, No, it's the way the man is. Hands out thirty years like he's happy to oblige. It's why he's known as Maximum Bob.
He liked the way she did her hair, only sort of combed, like the girl who used to be on CNN Foley believed he'd fall in love with if they ever met. At this moment he couldn't think of her name, Miss Megan Norris holding his attention. He believed Miss Megan could have her pick of guys; he couldn't see her spending time with a little Cuban who'd come eye-level with her neckline and try his best to look in.
Megan's next question, Why didn't you fire that dump truck you had for an attorney? He allowed testimony outside Miranda that you'd robbed as many as two hundred banks.
Every time my lawyer stood up, Foley said, the judge told him to sit down.
And he did, never stating his objections.
Lou Adams, the FBI agent, came to see me when I was being held at Gun Club. First he said we had something in common, both of us born and raised in New Orleans. He had a list of bank robberies under investigation and wondered if he read them off I'd tell him the ones I did. Like I'd want to help him out since we're both from the Big Easy, both love our hometown when it wasn't under water. Special Agent Lou Adams seemed surprised when I questioned his intention. He said it was so they could close any cases I could help him with, file 'em away. I said, 'You're having fun with me, aren't you?' and kept my mouth shut. But once Lou got on the stand he swore I'd robbed a couple hundred banks and believed he could name them. My lawyer raised his voice objecting, but Maximum Bob allowed it. He said, 'Let the witness have his say, this is good stuff.' That's how he talks, His Honor Bob Isom Gibbs. Out of court he's also called Big, but he's a little bitty guy.
He sits on cushions, Megan said, behind the bench. What you say is pretty much what I got from the transcript. I think I can get this reversed based on the judge's behavior and the FBI agent's imagination. We either retry it or work out a deal. Your buddy Cundo is taking care of my fee.
He never told me what you're asking.
What I'm getting, not asking. Fifteen thousand for this one. But we'll avoid going to trial again. Thirty years, according to sentencing guidelines, is the maximum you can get. I'll ask the state attorney about a deal, consider the minimum sentence less time served, and see if I can get no parole as part of the deal. I think Jerry already sees the problem with the case and will go along with what we want. He's a no-bullshit kind of guy. Why hang you up that long for no reason? One of these days he'll run for judge and make it.
All that work for fifteen grand, Foley said, even if it takes you a couple of days.
It could take twenty minutes, Megan said, you get back as much as twenty-seven years of your life. Put a price on that. She said then, You're wondering how you'll repay your buddy, aren't you? Or how he might ask you to work it off.
It's crossed my mind, Foley said.
You'll owe him at least thirty thousand before we're through. The next court appearance will be an exam on the escape case. Corrections would simply extend your sentence. But this examination will focus on kidnapping, the abduction of a federal officer you held as hostage.
Karen?
It was the first time in months he had said her name out loud.
Foley eased straight up in his chair.
Karen Sisco, Megan said, with the Marshals Service. Also an attempted robbery and several homicides the prosecutor in Detroit wants to know about. So there could be more court time up north.
I have to appear in Detroit?
You thought you were getting away with it?
Karen shot me. What am I getting away with?
We'll go over it the next time I see you, Megan said, later in the week. I want to talk to Karen first.
I'll tell you right now, Foley said, I didn't kidnap her or hold her
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