03_Cornered Coyote (20 page)

He stopped and took a sip of water. “I became very concerned. I remembered Maria talking about her husband and how he spent almost all of his time in the lab he’d built in the basement of the motel. I went down the stairs that looked like they led to the lab and opened the door. I was a Marine and served in Iraq. I know the smell of death and that smell filled the room. There was blood all around Jeffrey, or at least I assumed that’s who he was. I saw a bullet hole in his chest. From what I’d seen in Iraq, I knew he was dead and nothing could be done for him. I closed the door, walked up the stairs, and called 911.”

“I’m sorry to ask you to relive what must have been a horrible experience for you. So you never saw Maria, just Jeffrey, who was dead. Is that correct?”

“That’s correct.”

“Mr. Martin, you mentioned that you interacted with Maria on several occasions. Is that correct?”

“Yes. She and I talked a lot when I was there.”

“Did she ever tell you about her past? Did she ever tell you that Jeffrey had been fired from Moore Labs?”

“She told me she had grown up in a Santa Ana barrio and that her family was very poor. She told me she and Jeffrey had bought the motel because he was a scientist and was suffering from burn-out.”

“Did she tell you that Jeffrey had received four million dollars from Moore Labs when he was fired?”

“No. I didn’t know that until earlier today.”

“Mr. Martin. Did you think Maria Brooks was sexy?”

“Objection, your Honor,” Brian said. “Sustained.”

“One last question, Mr. Martin. I’ve noticed that you’ve looked over at Maria many times since you’ve been on the stand. Are you in love with her?”

“Objection, your Honor. Irrelevant.”

“Overruled. Mr. Martin, please answer the question.”

Ralph was quiet for a long time. He looked down at his tightly clasped hands. There was absolute silence in the courtroom. Ralph raised his head. “Yes, I suppose I am. She is an amazingly beautiful woman and I have to admit that I’ve fantasized about her,” he said in a barely audible voice.

“No further questions.”

Brian leaned over to Maria and whispered in her ear. She whispered back. Brian stood up and approached the witness stand.

“Mr. Martin, discovering Jeffrey’s body must have been a great shock to you. Had you ever seen him prior to that time?”

“No, as I said earlier, Maria told me he spent most of his time in the laboratory.”

“Did Maria ever indicate in any way that she would like your relationship with her to be anything other than someone who stopped in at the motel and bought some coffee and a snack?”

“No, she didn’t.”

“Am I correct in saying that your feeling of love was never returned by Maria?”

Once again, his voice was almost inaudible. “Yes.” When he left the stand, he looked like he’d aged twenty years. He knew by answering truthfully, he had given his wife grounds for divorce. Unwittingly, he had allowed himself to be put in a no-win situation. Marsha had a hard time keeping a poker face, sure that the jury had picked up on Maria’s sexiness and attractiveness. Everyone in the room was aware that Maria was one of the sexiest women they had ever seen. Men wanted her while women envied and despised her.

Judge Adams looked at his watch. “It’s 4:15. Court will reconvene tomorrow morning at 9:00 a.m. Jurors, once again I admonish you not to discuss the facts of this case with anyone. Do not read about it in the media or watch reports about it on television. Court is adjourned.” He banged his gavel, stood, and walked back to his chambers.

Brian and Jordan left the courthouse at the same time. “Oh my God,” Jordan said as he looked at the crowd of reporters.

Before they could close the courthouse doors, microphones were thrust in their faces. “Mr. Meeks, is it true Maria got four million dollars? Mr. Kramer, did you know that Ralph Martin was in love with Maria? Mr. Meeks, did Maria kill Jeffrey so she could get the money?”

And so it went. They both said no comment and pushed their way through the crowd of reporters as they made their way to the parking lot. The street was lined with vans belonging to the local television stations. Not only was Maria being tried in a court of law, she was also being tried by the media.

As soon as Brian got home, he walked into the den and poured himself a drink. The television was on and every channel was showing shots of Brian and Jordan leaving the courthouse and sketches from artists depicting the various witnesses who had testified that day.     Even CNN got in on the action. They interviewed a well-known criminal attorney. He said how damning it was that Jeffrey was paid four million dollars when he was fired by Moore Labs. Killing a victim for financial gain is a very common motive in many murder cases, he went on to say. He wondered how the defense could possibly overcome that, in addition to the fact that Maria had fled the country, and changed her name. He went on to say if he was sitting on the jury, he’d find Maria guilty because she certainly had motives for killing Jeffrey.

“Brian, I was watching before you came home. It’s been like this for an hour. The media is having a feeding frenzy with this. Are you going to be able to get her acquitted?” his wife asked, standing behind him and rubbing his shoulders.

“I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

CHAPTER 36

The next morning it looked like Marsha hadn’t even bothered to change her clothes or else she had a whole wardrobe of nondescript suits. The difference between Maria and Marsha was startling. Neither wore make-up, but one of them didn’t need any to look beautiful and the other one was so plain that no amount of make-up could have helped her.

“Detective Lawrence, the death of Jeffrey Brooks was your case. Is that correct?” Marsha asked the first witness of the day.

“Yes. I received a call from the dispatcher after Mr. Martin called 911.”

“Would you tell the court what you found when you got to the Blue Coyote Motel?”

“Ralph Martin told me that there was a body in the basement laboratory and he assumed it was Jeffrey Brooks. I determined that the body was, in fact, him. He had suffered a single gunshot wound to the chest. I found a large butcher knife on the floor next to him. I had a fingerprint specialist come and dust for fingerprints.”

“Did the specialist find any fingerprints, and if so, whose were they?”

“Yes. There were numerous prints of Jeffrey Brooks on the knife. Those were the only prints we found.”

“Did you determine that Jeffrey died from the gunshot wound?”

“Yes. The autopsy confirmed it.”

“Based on everything you knew about the case, what conclusions did you draw?”

“I believe that Maria Brooks shot and killed her husband. The gun was never found. We discovered she left the country the very evening Jeffrey Brooks died. We followed her to Marseille, France. After that he trail went cold.”

“When did you find out that Maria was returning to California?”

“I was contacted by Jordan Kramer, a detective from the Los Angeles Police Department who works in their Art Theft Division. He called me a couple of weeks before she arrived to tell me she was coming back to California.”

“Detective, since you didn’t find the gun, the murder weapon, and Maria left the country that night, do you assume she was the one who killed Jeffrey.”

“Objection,” Brian said, rising to his feet. “Leading the witness.”

“Sustained,” Judge Adams said.

“No further questions, Your Honor.”

* * * * *

“Detective Lawrence, thank you for your service to our state. I’d like to show you a butcher knife and ask you if you can identify it,” Brian said, as he handed the detective a large butcher knife which was contained in a clear plastic evidence bag.

Detective Lawrence removed the knife from the evidence bag and said, “Yes, this is the knife that I found lying next to the body of Jeffrey Brooks on the day I investigated the murder of Mr. Brooks at the Blue Coyote Motel. After the knife was photographed in the exact place where I found it, wearing latex gloves, I picked the knife up and bagged it in this plastic evidence bag, signed my name on it and sealed it. It has remained sealed and in police custody ever since I bagged it.”

“Your Honor, I would request that the knife be admitted in evidence and marked as defendant’s Exhibit ‘A’.”    

“It will be admitted into evidence and marked as defendant’s Exhibit ‘A’,” the judge said.

“Detective, you are quite certain that this is the knife that was found next to the body of Jeffrey Brooks? Is that correct?”

“Yes, absolutely. I have a clear independent recollection of exactly what the knife looked like when I discovered it next to the decedent’s body and it has not been out of police custody since the time I bagged it as evidence to be used in the investigation of the case.”

“Thank you. You previously testified that fingerprints were found on the knife. Whose fingerprints were found?”

“Those belonging to Jeffrey Brooks.”

“Were any other fingerprints on the knife?”

“No. The only prints on the knife were those of Jeffrey Brooks.”

“Detective Lawrence, did you find any prescription medications for Jeffrey Brooks from a Dr. Herzog when you searched Jeffrey’s lab and the home behind the motel where he and Mrs. Brooks lived?”

“No. There were no prescription drugs for Jeffrey.”

“No more questions.”

* * * * *

“
Madame
Prudhomme, thank you for coming to the United States to testify in this case.”

“It is my pleasure. Please excuse my English. It is not perfect,” the small chubby white-haired woman said.

“That’s not a problem. The questions I’ll be asking you are very simple. You live in St. Victor la Coste, France, is that correct?”

“
Oui
, I mean yes.”

“That’s in the Provence area of France. Is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“Did you know Maria Brooks?”

“I knew a woman who looked exactly like her, but her name was Elena Johnson.”

“How did you know her?”

“It is a little village and everyone knows everyone else. We are very friendly.
Madame
Johnson came to the village and never made any, how you say, attempts to get to know us. Several of the women asked her to come to their homes for croissants and coffee, but she never would. She lived in a small cottage located on a hill above the village. We heard she was a widow and very rich. We didn’t understand why she went to work at Henri’s Bakery.”

“So all you knew about this woman was that she did not want to be friends with anyone and that she was a rich widow.”

“
Oui
, sorry, yes.”

“Tell me about Henri’s Bakery and what she was doing there.”

“Henri’s is a well-known restaurant located in the village. People come from miles away to eat there. The Michelin Guide gave it two stars, which is very good. She was the luncheon chef at Henri’s. We were very surprised that Henri hired her because he had turned many others down. Henri told several of the men that she was very beautiful and that was why he hired her. We always wondered what went on between them.”

“Objection,” Brian said.

“Sustained.”

“Did Elena or Maria, whichever name you prefer, ever entertain people in her cottage?”

“No one from the village was ever in her cottage, but the American spent nights there.”

“Tell me about that.”

“Maybe two months or so after
Madame
Johnson started working at Henri’s, an American came to the village. At first he stayed at an estate that had been converted to a bed and breakfast. It’s a few miles from the village, but after two days he moved into
Madame
Johnson’s cottage. We thought that was very fast, but we are French.”

“Thank you again for coming. No further questions.”

“I have no questions, your Honor,” Brian said.

* * * * *

As the next witness took the stand, Maria gasped and whispered to Brian, “That’s Luisa Ortega.”

“Well, I’m not surprised. This is not going to be pleasant. I’ll see what I can do. Just keep your composure.”

“
Senora
Ortega, thank you for coming all the way from Brazil to testify on the prosecution’s behalf.”

“It is my pleasure.”

“You and your husband stayed at the Blue Coyote Motel twice, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Please tell the court about your first visit to the motel.”

“Jorge and I arrived at the Blue Coyote Motel on our way from Phoenix to Laguna Beach, California. We were going to my sister’s wedding, but the air traffic controllers union had gone on strike and we couldn’t fly into Southern California. The only flight we could get was from Rio to Phoenix. We were exhausted so we stopped and spent the night at the Blue Coyote Motel.

“Our marriage had not been going well.  Jorge spent too much time in the Amazon at the family gold mines and he always came home tired and tense. I’d developed a nasty habit called bulimia. Food was the only thing in my life I felt I could control. However, after we spent the night at the Blue Coyote Motel, our lives turned around and changed for the better. Both of us felt happy and energized. In fact, our son Carlos was conceived there. We made a decision to move to California and Jorge began commuting to the Amazon, staying with Carlos and me for two weeks at our new home in Huntington Beach, and then going to our gold mines in the Amazon for the next two weeks. Then, everything fell apart. Carlos developed colic, Jorge had become angry and testy, and I was flirting with bulimia again.”

She stopped and took a drink of water. “Jorge and I felt we needed to go back to the Blue Coyote Motel. We thought it was a good luck charm and things would get better if we spent some time there. We went there during the Memorial Day weekend. Four other people had returned to the motel for the same reason.

“My husband, Jorge, and a psychologist by the name of Sean, thought it was strange we had all returned for more or less the same reasons. Sean had done a lot of work with people who were taking drugs and said that what we were all experiencing was similar to the classic symptoms of drug withdrawal. Sean had done some research and found out that Jeffrey Brooks was a scientist. He and Jorge talked and decided that if we were being drugged, it couldn’t be something in the water or food. They thought maybe something was in the air. Sean and Jorge went to Maria and told her we wanted a meeting with Jeffrey. She called him and he agreed to meet with us.”