Played: “Sometimes you never know who is playing who, until the damage is done." (36 page)

Bradley & Chelsea Cools Residence.

We could spend our weekends planning vacations and making babies. I could get a management job at a security firm working nine to five, and Chelsea could be waiting for me when I get home.

Suddenly he remembers a plaque he’d seen above the adjacent booth. He stands, leans over, and reads the passage.

“Better is it to be in a bar, thinking of home—than sitting there, wishing of here.”

He doesn’t agree. He leaves immediately for Chelsea’s apartment.

.

Chapter Fifty-Four

J
udge Cooper receives a phone call informing her that everything is set and ready to go. She double-checks her hair and marches like a soldier toward the front lines. Outside the rear of the courtroom, she situates herself at the judge’s entrance. Adjacent to the door, there’s a touch screen keypad. She types in her number, pushes confirm, and from inside the courtroom, she can hear the muffled voice of her court clerk saying, “All rise.” Judge Cooper makes her entrance and finds everything just as she expected—William and Joshua are sitting pretty, wearing masks of innocence; the reporters are lined tightly against the back wall; and there’s not a vacant seat in the house—all being equal of the previous two days, only with subtle differences. The jurors are dressed similarly but wearing different clothes; the reporters, the same, except now in differing positions; and the bailiff standing next to Joshua with his Taser is still eager to use it, but he himself is new. The only real difference is the mood. The unmistakable restlessness within the courtroom’s atmosphere tells her, per her experience, that today will be momentous, remembered.

“You may be seated.”

Milkowski lets out a dramatic cough then asks for a shortened, or even an excused, day due to his unexpected illness. In actuality it’s to buy more time for the forensics team, so they can determine if the dead woman in the woods is his missing link. Next Judge Cooper listens to a concise argument from William reminding the court of his client’s right to a speedy trial. Milkowski’s request is denied. He has no choice but to state that he’s presented his case and turn it over to the defense.

William rises to his feet, looking very prepared, and says, “Your Honor, I would like to submit into evidence a video surveillance disc in addition to an audio recording.”

“Objection.” Milkowski jumps up fretfully. “Your Honor, my office was not made aware of these recordings, and I ask that they are not allowed in due to discovery procedure.”

“I would like both of you to approach the bench.”

William quickly crowds a prized position in front of Judge Cooper and, in a quieted tone, states the facts—that he was fired then only rehired as of less than a week ago, and Milkowski has curiously missed some of his calls. Judge Cooper gives Milkowski a smart glance as William continues his reasoning. “Your Honor, these discs are a record of the first interaction my client had in this case with Detective Cools on the day of his arrest. And I believe that in the new light of the investigating detectives’ conflicting statements yesterday concerning
when
the video surveillance monitor was broken, and the fact that there’s an accusation of coerced interrogation, that these discs should be allowed in, so we can get to the bottom of it now instead of on appeal.”

“What do you have to say, prosecutor?”

“Judge, this is ridiculous. I was not made aware of them, and need I mention that Detective Cools is not on trial here.”

Judge Cooper turns back to William, asking, “Why weren’t these discs turned in as discovery?”

“Your Honor, I myself did not know of them until late last night when I had my investigator go to my client’s home, and this is what he found.”

“And I assume your investigator is here today to testify to this?”

“Yes, Your Honor, he is.”

“Okay, I’m going to allow it this one time—and one time only. Do I make myself clear?”

“Thank you, Your Honor,” he says, followed by turning around and hurling a stern theatrical glare toward Captain Jackson and his entourage in blue and making sure the jurors see him challenging them.

Judge Cooper reports to the court that she’ll be allowing the new evidence and hands them over to the bailiff. Everyone’s eyes follow them like a UFO sighting on a clear night.

Then William amusingly calls his first witness. “I would like to call Professor Seth Johansen.” All attention moves to a small man with long, dark hair and glasses as he makes his way to the front. He seats himself comfortably, and William stands in front of him and begins questioning. “Professor Johansen, would you tell the members of the jury where you are employed?”

“I’m a tenured Professor at Washington State University, where I teach signing.”

“And what is
signing
exactly?”

“It is a language in which instead of using vocalized sound patterns, we use visually transmitted sign patterns to communicate.”

“So you teach sign language for the deaf?”

“Yes.”

“And do you teach any other classes?”

“Yes, I teach an advanced class that includes speechreading.”

“Tell me about speechreading. Can anybody do it?”

“Well, yes, anyone can learn. It’s better known as lipreading; it is the technique of learning speech by visually interpreting the movements of the tongue, facial muscles, posturing of the lips, and then simply converting the physical information into context, or language.”

“Can you read everyone’s lips?”

“Well, yes and no…It depends much on the person. Some I can read with one hundred percent accuracy, while there are a few people who pose more of a challenge.” William nods for him to explain in more detail. The professor continues. “One example would be a man who has a bushy mustache; another would be what we call a
dead cell
—a person who speaks using little or no emotion.”

With that William grins and faces the jurors, turning his back on the professor, and declares loudly to the courtroom, “I believe Professor Seth Johansen to be a liar and a fraud!” Everyone seems confused. The witness seems oblivious. Then he again places himself directly in the professor’s sight and asks, “Professor Johansen, are you yourself deaf?”

“Yes, I am.”

The crowd is impressed, and some commotion begins until William speaks over them. “And how well were you able to read the person on the disc I sent you?”

“Quite well. In fact, I—”

“Objection.” Milkowski stands up fast, holding out a hand to halt the witnesses’ testimony. “Your Honor, I thought these discs were found just late last night?”

“Overruled,” Judge Cooper sighs, giving Milkowski a look that says “We all know William’s full of shit, and we both know it’s next to impossible to deny any evidence in a high-profile, circumstantial murder trial.” Besides that, she herself is curious as to where all this is headed.

William presses forward, asking the question again. “Professor Johansen, are you able to read with one hundred percent accuracy the person on the disc?”

He looks to Judge Cooper, who says, “You are allowed to answer the question, professor.”

“Yes,” he declares proudly. “The person on the disc is quite easy to read. Actually, his speech is very timed and concise, and his delivery is full of emotion— anger, actually, the easiest of all emotions to read. When people are angry, they tend to use extremely precise facial expressions, not to mention the fact that I went over it many times to make certain of my testimony today.”

Milkowski wears a mocking exterior for William and his witness; however, on the inside he’s screaming. What in God’s good name did you do, Cools? What the fuck did you say?

William smiles wide to the jurors, none of whom return the gesture. Then he very politely asks the bailiff to hold in the air the disc titled “Video,” as he emphasizes, “This is exhibit A. It’s a home surveillance recording that was taken the first morning Detective Cools came to my client’s home. In it you will see the two of them engaging in a conversation in the driveway. And Professor Johansen will explain to you word for word what Detective Cools is saying.” Then he asks the bailiff to play the disc.

Judge Cooper gives him a nod, and he leaves the courtroom, returning shortly with a television on a rolling stand. Next he hands over the remote to the witness.

Professor Johansen pivots toward the jury to set things up. “Ladies and gentlemen, I have speech-read the person on this video clip, and I can tell you every word he says. But don’t just take my word for it; I’ll show you. What I’ve done is written down all the words he used and put them to a musical scale, so I will be reciting what he says in synch with his movements; and you will see for yourself exactly what he is saying.”

Then he adjusts his paper in front of him. He presses the play button and, when cued, begins to narrate. “I have to let you go for now, but first…I do not like you—you sick fuck!” Then the jury can clearly see Detective Cools eyeball his gun and flash it around. And again the professor recites, “These things accidentally go off some times, punk. It’s rare, but it happens. Next time…next fucking time!”

The jurors gasp. Newspaper reporters turn off their recorders and rush out. Milkowski leaps from his seat, trying to argue but to no avail. People start whispering, even the jurors, and then begin talking less discretely. Joshua lifts his hands up and down, encouraging an uproar, and the courtroom becomes louder with every passing second. Judge Cooper slams her gavel down hard. “Order! Order in the court!” she bellows, motioning Milkowski to sit down, since they both know there’s nothing he can say or do anyway. He returns to his seat as she addresses the jurors, in her now quieted courtroom, stating, “This is all evidence you will be taking into consideration at the proper time—that is, at the end of the trial—and not one moment sooner.” The fear of her, in their eyes, tells her they understand. She then turns back to William, asking, “Are you done with this witness?”

“Yes, I am, Your Honor. And now I would like to recall Detective Cools to the stand.”

“Very well,” she replies, still eyeing each and every person in her court. “Bailiff, please bring in Detective Cools.” Again the bailiff leaves as everyone waits with much anticipation, watching William and Joshua joke back and forth privately.

Cools walks in and right away knows something has happened. He senses them evaluating him. Joshua stares at him, smiling, and lets out a subdued laugh of victory. Cools returns a glare. The tension between them is clear to everyone.

William then adds to Cools’s annoyance by flashing a wink and asking in a smartass tone, “Detective, do you now remember the conversation you had with Mr. Siconolfi in front of his house on the twenty-ninth of December?”

“No, I do not,” he replies to the jury, realizing that they don’t seem to believe him.

“Do you now remember when you threatened Mr. Siconolfi to make a statement?”

“No, I never did any such thing!”

“Then how about the threats you made the day of his arrest?”

“No! I read him his Miranda rights, and that is all.”

William raises his eyebrow. “And is that all?”

Feeling the need to add more, he says, “I may have told him how much he disgusted me, and that I would prove he killed his wife, Kimberly.”

“Anything else ring a bell, detective? And I would like to remind you that you are under oath.”

Cools perceives he’s missing something and is growing increasingly agitated. Milkowski waves a finger, catching his attention, swaying him to slow down, while attempting to lend the sense that everything is going to be fine. But Milkowski, as well as everyone else in the room, can see that Detective Bradley Cools is going down in flames.

For an extended moment, he reflects on the morning in question and subsequently answers as calmly as he can, “No, I do not recall any other conversation.”

William then spins nimbly on his heels, offering exhibit B and requesting the bailiff to play the compact disc. And while the bailiff is cueing it up, he explains to the jury that the night prior to Joshua’s arrest, he’d accidentally left the audio recording system on in his living room music studio. Suddenly it begins to play over the very same speakers brought in two days before by the prosecutor, Milkowski. First they can hear Joshua.

“You’ve made a big mistake, top cop!”

“And how’s that?”

William pauses the CD and asks Cools if this is his voice.

Immediately he remembers some of the things he said and contests it, stating, “It doesn’t sound like my voice…and he could’ve dubbed it in with all his studio equipment.”

“That’s fine,” William exclaims neatly. “I’ll be bringing in a voice analysis expert who will confirm that indeed it is.” Then he plays the CD again, turning up the volume.

The jury strains to hear a kind of whisper.

“The devil comes, the devil does, and the devil goes; and I bet you think the blood on the yacht is Kimberly’s.”

“Listen here, you freak. I’m tired of hearing your bullshit. I don’t need her blood. I will find her body. And now that I have you, I have your DNA. And I don’t care how careful you think you are, asshole; I will plant your hair, your blood, even your semen if I have too.”

The rumbling in the courtroom starts up again; however, Judge Cooper is expedient with her gavel. “Quiet down! Quiet down now!”

And as she’s dealing with an ever angrier crowd, William skips back and plays once more, even louder: “I don’t care how careful you think you are, asshole; I will plant your hair, your blood, even your semen if I have too.”

The excitement mounts as it plays a second time, burning the unforgiving words into their ears, burning vengeful passions into their hearts.

“Order in the court! And sit down William. Do not play that again!” He obeys, although most of the press ignores her as they discuss the implications. She slams her gavel repeatedly. “I said order in the court! I will have you removed…” They finally submit and begin to quiet down, and all eyes move back to Cools. No one has any doubts that his career is over. Some suffer feelings of sympathy, while others hold utter contempt. Nonetheless, they all expect a reaction.