Witness for the Defense (32 page)

Chapter 35

Priest was ten minutes late returning from lunch. Hurrying to her chair, she asked me to call my next witness. The bailiffs at the back of the courtroom escorted in Danny Barton, who’d been waiting outside with his mother. Bragg did everything he could by way of body language and facial expression to make sure everyone was aware he didn’t like Danny being subjected to the trauma of a further examination.

But as before, Danny appeared at ease as he made his way up the center aisle. He stopped in front of the witness stand and turned to the clerk with his hand in the air.

Priest smiled. “That’s all right, son. You don’t have to do that again.”

“No kidding,” the boy said, as if he’d been looking forward to it. He shrugged, jumped the step to the witness chair, and plopped into it.

“But I do have to remind you that you’re still under oath,” she said in a motherly tone.

“Oh, I won’t lie.” Danny reached for the microphone, pulling it down to his mouth. He then looked at Bragg, waiting for the D.A. to begin.

I slowly rose from my chair. “This time I get to go first.”

Danny’s face reddened as he turned to the sound of my voice. “I knew that.”

Pausing for the faint ripple of laughter to subside, I glanced at the jury. Each one was sitting straight, their faces tensed with anticipation, their eyes glued to the witness. The boy’s testimony was what they’d been waiting for ever since I’d made my opening statement.

Except for confirming Danny didn’t recall taking his gloves off, I intentionally bypassed anything that dealt with the night of the attack. My focus was on the interview the following day.

Danny had little trouble explaining how McBean asked him to inspect a package of Gummy Bears that was later placed into a plastic bag using tweezers. The foundation had been laid. But my most difficult task remained—making sure the jury understood that the package of Gummy Bears that McBean testified he had retrieved from inside Reineer’s car was the same package Danny had inspected at the station.

I placed People’s Exhibit Number Five, the plastic bag which held the package that McBean had testified was retrieved from Reineer’s car, on the counter in front of the boy. “Have you ever seen this before?”

Danny lowered his head closer to make sure. “Looks like a package of Gummy Bears inside the bag.”

There was no way Danny would be able to tell one package of Gummy Bears from the next. But I had to ask the question to underscore the possibilities Danny’s anticipated answer would raise.

I nudged the plastic bag with my finger. “Does that look like the package of Gummy Bears that Lieutenant McBean gave you to inspect?”

Danny angled his head, studying it. “Can’t tell because of the plastic bag it’s in.”

“Then let’s take it out.” I opened the bag and withdrew the candy wrapper. “Now will you tell me if that’s the same package Lieutenant McBean had you look at the day after you were attacked.”

Danny held the small package daintily between his thumb and forefinger, inspecting it. “I don’t remember all this gray stuff.”

“I believe that’s the powder they use to locate fingerprints.”

“Oh,” he said and cheerfully placed the package on the counter. Without any further prodding, he said, “It could be the same package the lieutenant showed me.”

I was finished and about to turn Danny over for cross when I noticed a smug smile on Bragg’s face. And I had a good idea why. He was planning on turning my last question around by asking the boy if he could say that the package sitting in front of him was definitely not the package he’d lost that night. But what Bragg failed to realize was I really didn’t care. All I’d set out to do was leave the jury questioning either possibility, hoping they’d consider that in conjunction with the suspicious way McBean had handled the package. Once that happened, it wouldn’t take much more for them to conclude McBean had planted it.

Then it occurred to me that I’d be better off asking Danny the same question Bragg was likely planning. That way it wouldn’t look like I was afraid of the answer.

I approached the witness stand. “Would it be fair to say, Danny, that there is no way by just looking at this package,” I said and nodded to the exhibit that was still in front of him, “that you can tell if it’s the same one you lost that night?”

Danny reached for the wrapper and held it in front of his face. He then fingered the ridges on both the top and bottom.

“It’s not,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone.

Bragg and McBean had the same surprised look that I was doing my best to hide. The courtroom was totally silent, everyone wondering, trying to digest exactly what Danny meant. Bragg placed his hands on the table and started to get up as though he was going to object, but must have reconsidered it. There were no grounds and he knew it. But that didn’t stop him from scowling at me. I was sure he thought I’d carefully planned this for its dramatic effect. In fact, I was more upset than he was. All I could think of was that the boy must have misunderstood my question.

“Are you saying the package sitting in front of you isn’t the same package you bought at Sav-on the night you were attacked?”

“I’m positive.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Simple,” he said. “As soon as I left the store, I tried to open it but couldn’t.” Danny looked at his mother and gave her a half smile. He then turned back to me. “I had my gloves on, so I had to use my teeth.”

Danny had no idea of the importance of what he was saying. “Are you sure? You have to be sure.”

“I remember,” he said, fear flickering in his eyes, “because when I ran into the guy, the piece I ripped off got stuck in my throat. It hurt.”

The bit about it getting caught in his throat clinched his believability.

McBean was staring daggers. I was sure he knew as well as anyone Danny’s answer to my next question. I knew because I could see the package on the counter. McBean knew because he was the one who’d planted it in Reineer’s car.

“Would you please look at People’s Number Five and tell us if you can see on any part of that package where you may have ripped a piece off with your teeth?”

“There isn’t because that’s not the same package I had with me that night.”

The courtroom erupted. Reporters were scrambling out the door to be the first to call it in. The jurors were talking to one another. And even with Priest continuously rapping her gavel, two full minutes passed before calm was finally restored.

“One more outburst like that,” Priest eventually bellowed, “and this courtroom will be closed to the public for the remainder of the trial. And that goes for the media, too.” She eyed their seats. But except for two older types who were furiously writing something in their steno pads, the chairs were empty. The rest were somewhere outside preparing that night’s top story.

Priest looked at me. I stood at the far end of the jury box, leaning up against the wall. I would have returned to my seat, but the last thing I wanted was to sit next to Reineer, who was smiling from ear to ear.

“Nothing further,” I said.

Bragg slowly rose from his chair, shaking his head like he’d just heard the whopper of all tales. “Tell me, son,” he began, and the boy stiffened. He could tell by the tone of the D.A.’s voice and the look on McBean’s face that they weren’t happy. “When you inspected the package at the station, did you ever inform the lieutenant that it wasn’t the same package you had with you that night?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Why not?”

Danny hesitated and scrunched his face. “Because all he did was ask me if it looked like the package I lost.”

“And if the lieutenant were to have asked you if it was the same exact package, you would have told him it wasn’t.”

“If he’d asked.”

“Because that package had a tear or a piece ripped from it, is that what you’re saying?”

Danny rolled his eyes at having to repeat himself. “Yeah,” he answered. “It had a piece torn from it.”

Bragg paced in front of the boy, with his hand cupping his chin. “How many times have you discussed what happened that night with either Lieutenant McBean or myself?”

“A lot.”

“And you never once said anything about tearing the wrapper with your teeth.”

Danny gave him a quick, edgy smile, but said nothing.

“Why is that?” Bragg pushed.

Danny shrugged. “I didn’t know it was important, and you never asked.”

“But Mr. Dobbs asked you about it when the two of you had a discussion at your house the other night. Isn’t that correct?”

Danny’s eyes shifted to mine. He didn’t know I’d informed Bragg about our talk. He had to be concerned about whether or not I’d also mentioned the bottle of perfume he stole.

“Well,” Bragg said impatiently.

Danny turned back to the D.A. and scowled. “Are you saying Mr. Dobbs told me to lie?”

“Not exactly,” Bragg said, “but that will do.”

“No way,” Danny said without hesitating. “He wouldn’t do that.”

Bragg raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really?”

“And even if he did, I wouldn’t.” Danny’s face reddened with anger. “Didn’t you hear me promise the judge I’d tell the truth?”

Question after question, Bragg tried to get the boy to admit he’d never told anyone that he’d ripped the package because it either never happened or he was mistaking it for some other occasion when he may have used his teeth. But Danny never wavered, and the more Bragg tried to trip him up, the more apparent it became that the boy was telling it exactly as it happened.

Before Bragg finished trying to find a chink in the youngster’s armor, my legs began to weaken. I felt woozy. It could have been nerves, my hangover, or a combination of both. I had to sit down, but my regular seat—the one next to Reineer—was the only one vacant.

As I pulled my chair out, I noticed a suspicious movement coming from underneath the table in the area of Reineer’s upper thigh. Taking my time to be seated, I watched as he methodically moved his hand over his pants across an erection.

My client was stroking himself in the presence of the very people who would soon be deciding his fate. I was stunned. It was not only revolting, but shockingly risky.

I leaned over to tell him to stop, but Reineer was the first to speak. “That boy sure is cute.”

I’d represented a lot of perverts throughout the years, but few had repulsed me like he did at that very moment. As he continued to stroke himself, I got an idea.

Stationed along the wall to my left, the jury box ran perpendicular to the counsel table. Half the jury members were positioned across from or in front of the table, while the others were positioned to the rear of it. With Bragg still at the witness stand and McBean pushed up snug to the table, if I wasn’t in the way, some of the jurors would have a clear view of Reineer. He’d be caught in the act and exposed for what he was. Maybe then, even if they believed the Gummy Bears were planted, they’d convict him anyway.

Nonchalantly, I pushed my chair away from the table and folded my hands behind my head like I was bored with Bragg’s repetitive questions. I turned to my left to see how many of the jurors were looking. But, as I should have expected, each was raptly listening to the young boy’s testimony.

The thought of causing some type of distraction occurred to me. Maybe then at least one or two of them might notice. But I couldn’t be too obvious or Reineer would be alerted. I frantically searched my mind, trying to think of something when Reineer folded both hands in his lap—secreting his erection.

He slowly turned. “Nice try,” he whispered. “You’ll regret that stunt.”

Chapter 36

I was sitting in the same booth in the same bar with my familiar double Chivas. Avery sat across from me, drinking his fifth beer. Originally, he was supposed to drop me off to pick up my car. But as soon as we pulled in, we decided there wouldn’t be any harm downing a quick one before our drive home. Hopefully by then Sarah would have returned from San Francisco.

The complexion of the trial had changed dramatically since I’d called Danny back to the stand. Reineer was no longer the focus of the trial—McBean was. The sudden shift wasn’t that different from other trials I’d handled where law enforcement’s credibility had been successfully attacked. Once a jury becomes convinced an officer of the law has lied about a critical issue, they will normally rule in favor of the defendant. Not that they necessarily believe he’s innocent, but because they don’t know what else about the prosecution’s case is tainted.

Avery and I stared out the window and watched a heavy rain pelt the cars as they passed the bar. Directly in front of us, stopped at the corner light, was a Jeep Cherokee driven by a man in his mid-thirties. Sitting next to him, a boy about eleven or twelve repeatedly flipped a basketball into the air. The two reminded me of Otto Cosgrove and Reineer’s most recent victim, his son, Gary.

“Can you imagine how terrible it must be for Cosgrove not to know whether his son is dead or alive?” I watched the father reach for the ball and quickly toss it back to the boy. “Every time his phone or doorbell rings, he’ll think it could be news about his son. It won’t matter how many years pass.”

The light turned green, and the Cherokee took off down the street. “He’ll go to his grave wondering whether his boy is dead or alive.”

Avery shook his head as we watched the car disappear from view. “You’re right,” he said and took a sip of his beer. “It’ll never be over until the boy’s body is found.”

“And there’s not a damn thing we can do,” I said, mostly to myself. “So many children murdered and I can’t say a thing.”

“You have to accept it.”

“But it’s not right.”

“What’s the alternative? How can any client ever trust his attorney and talk to him in confidence if that attorney can run to the authorities about what he was told? Attorneys are hired to defend—not to help the prosecution convict. And they can’t bail out just because they think their client is guilty.”

“I don’t think—I know Reineer’s guilty.”

“Hello.”

We looked up and saw Sarah looking down at the two of us. The waitress was next to her, placing Avery’s next beer on the table.