The Disappearance
By J. F. Freedman
Reviewed by Ina R. Bort
From the New York Law Journal
November 13, 1998
If your mind is in need of a vacation, I recommend J. F. Freedman's The Disappearance. This murder mystery/ courtroom thriller/ love story is far-fetched, ridiculous and loaded with cliches, but utterly entertaining.
The story begins with the abduction of Emma Lancaster, the 14-year-old daughter of California media mogul Douglas Lancaster. She is snatched from her bedroom in the dead of night, never to appear again. The crime scene is devoid of clues; only some footprints, made by someone wearing New Balance running shoes, provide any indication of the kidnapper's identity.
Young Emma's body is not discovered until eight days after the abduction, by local college students hiking in Hot Springs Canyon. The coroner's report reveals the cause of death: a fatal blow to the girl's fragile skull.
Emma Lancaster's kidnapping and murder remain unsolved for over a year, until Joe Allison, the famous local newscaster, is stopped by a policeman for drunk driving. When he asks Joe for his license and registration, the policeman notices an empty bottle of bourbon on the back seat. His suspicions aroused (and Joe's Fourth Amendment rights notwithstanding), the policeman performs a search of the entire car. He uncovers, buried deep in the glove compartment, the key chain of — you guessed it — Emma Lancaster. And, amazingly enough, the police search of Joe Allison's apartment in the days following uncovers a pair of New Balance running shoes in the closet.
Joe Allison is transformed, overnight, from local celebrity to community pariah. As if the kidnapping and murder of an innocent child were not heinous enough, Joe Allison owed his very career to Emma's father. It was Doug Lancaster who had discovered Joe Allison and helped propel him to the top. Indeed, Joe Allison was about to begin his job as a newscaster on national television at the time of his arrest. His detention by the police whets the community's appetite for vengeance. All eagerly await the conviction and sentencing of the heartless criminal.
Enter Luke Garrison. Once a "hard driving, take-no-prisoners Santa Barbara D. A.," Garrison has since retreated to life in the woods where he lives in a cabin with his (stunning, of course) girlfriend and works as, of all things, a public defender. This dramatic turnaround was triggered by a rather negative experience in his prosecutorial career: sending an innocent man to the electric chair. Luke has never forgiven himself and, in an attempt to assuage his guilt, has taken up defending some of the most rotten criminals in town.
Through a contrived series of events, Garrison becomes — surprise! — Joe Allison's attorney. He is the only lawyer with enough guts to represent the most hated defendant in recent memory because, his legal career already in shambles, he has nothing to lose. To the contrary, Joe Allison's case is Garrison's chance for a personal comeback, and he intends to make sure this time that justice triumphs.
With that goal in mind, Garrison begins the arduous task of preparing the defense in People v. Joseph B. Allison, case no. B-1684. With a trial date only four months away, he has no time to spare. Fortunately he has the assistance of his aforementioned girlfriend, Riva Montoya — and not just in the form of her drop-dead looks and unwavering support. As a bail bondswoman, Riva, conveniently enough, has the background to do basic investigative work for Luke She proves to be a savvy detective.
Luke's first task (after a meeting in jail with his less-than-forthright client) is to obtain Emma Lancaster's autopsy report. The file reveals shocking news: The victim was pregnant. This, of course, means that Luke's defense strategy will have to take a broader, and sleazier, path than he would have preferred. For now he will have to explore Emma's life in depth and detail. Who, if anyone, was she involved with? Who could have known she was pregnant? Was he the father of her unborn child who, upon hearing of her pregnancy, panicked and killed her?
Certainly, if Joe Allison were the man responsible for Emma's pregnancy, he would have every reason to want her dead. For, were her father to find out, Joe Allison would never work in television again. He would also, without question, be convicted of statutory rape.
Given this possible motive, as well as the unambiguous evidence stacked against his client, Luke Garrison's task is far from simple. And to further complicate matters, someone out there wants Luke Garrison dead. While surfing one day after work (as most of us lawyers often do), Luke narrowly escapes the flying bullets of a sharpshooter's rifle, sustaining a mere flesh wound to his otherwise perfect body. Which is fortunate not only for him, but for Joe Allison, who would be hard-pressed to find a capable replacement on the eve of trial, when the shooting occurs.
Freedman devotes the remainder of the book, well over 100 pages, to a description of the trial itself. It's clear that he's done his homework, as his references reflect proficiency in the details of pretrial and trial procedure. Particularly impressive is Freedman's ability to weave these details into the story without slowing down the pace.
But what raises The Disappearance a notch above other books of its kind is the (relative) complexity of the characters. Freedman, on several occasions, describes individuals who have doubts and insecurities about the roles and situations in which they find themselves.
The best example is Luke Garrison himself. Luke knows that, because Emma was pregnant at the time of her murder, he will have to resort to putting the victim and her family on trial in formulating his defense strategy. It is, however, a decision that he's not at all comfortable with: "Deflect the thrust from his client . . . as was done down in L.A. when O. J. Simpson's defense team managed to make the trial a referendum on crooked cops instead of the prosecution of a wife-killer. Not the way he prefers to work, but he has one job -- to get Joe Allison off. By whatever legal means he can."
Also interesting, and surprisingly non-cardboard, is the character of Doug Lancaster. His dual status as the owner of news stations, beholden to ratings, and the father of a murdered child forces him to make agonizing decisions regarding the amount of TV coverage that Emma's story should receive.
To be sure, there are aspects of The Disappearance that ensure its exclusion from next year's list of National Book Award finalists. Among these are Freedman's use of words like "doofus" and "gnarly," not to mention some particularly progressive descriptions of women, such as one attorney who is dressed "lady-lawyer style."
But if you are headed to the beach sometime soon, have a long airplane ride ahead of you or are merely in need of diversion, think about picking this one up. Alternatively, you might just as well wait until next summer when, I'm willing to bet, the movie will be playing at a theater near you.
