Presumption of Guilt (30 page)

“When you confessed, did you believe you had murdered your parents?”

“I was so confused. They said they found the murder weapons, and my fingerprints were on them. They told me they found a spot of my parents’ blood on my pajamas. I began to believe they were right. That I’d killed them during a blackout.”

“Is that why you signed the confession?”

“Yes.”

“If you didn’t kill your parents, how were you able to put the details of the murder in your confession?”

“Detective Baxter told me what to write. And before he turned the video camera on, he told me what to say.”

“If you believed you’d murdered your parents, why did you recant later?”

“After they brought me to a cell and left me alone, I kept thinking about it. I couldn’t come up with any reason why I would murder them. I loved them both. The more I thought about it, the more I became convinced that it wasn’t me, no matter what evidence they had. So the next time a guard came around, I told her I wanted to take back the confession.”

“Did she let you?”

“No. It was only after my sister got a lawyer for me that I was able to officially recant.”

“Molly, you’ve heard testimony in court that your father was involved in a scheme to defraud the county. Did you know anything about that before the murders?”

“No. I remember my father being more irritable than usual, but I didn’t know why.”

“Were you aware that the state was investigating the cost overruns of the new county jail?”

“Only vaguely. I know the newspapers carried stories about it, but I only read the paper when I had to for a class. Sometimes my mother would bring it up at the dinner table, but my father would always shush her.”

“Did you ever overhear any conversations about it?”

“Never directly, but I do remember my father and Quince arguing in my father’s study more than once in the weeks before he died.”

“And this was unusual with them?”

“I’d never heard them that angry with each other before.”

“Thank you, Molly. I have no more questions.”

As Dani walked to the defense table, Murdoch stood up, then strode confidently to the witness box.

“Ms. Singer, you said you were all alone during your questioning. But you had been told you had a right to an attorney, isn’t that true?”

“Yes, but—”

“So, you could have had someone with you, correct?”

“I suppose, but—”

“And during your questioning—”

Dani stood up. “Objection, Your Honor. Mr. Murdoch is not allowing the witness to finish her answers.”

“The witness has answered the questions I’ve asked her,” Murdoch said. “I’m not allowing her to go on and answer questions I haven’t asked.”

“Objection sustained. Mr. Murdoch, repeat your questions and allow Ms. Singer to complete her answers.”

Murdoch sighed, then turned to the jury and rolled his eyes. “Ms. Singer, you could have had an attorney with you, isn’t that true?”

“I was seventeen years old and frightened. I didn’t think I’d done anything wrong and thought I was there to help the police find who murdered my parents. After they pounded at me for hours, I was too confused to even remember that I could ask for an attorney.”

“Did the officers ever tell you that you couldn’t leave the room until you confessed?”

“No.”

“Did they ever tell you that you had to put in your written confession the details they gave you?”

“No.”

“Did they physically abuse you in any way?”

“No.”

“So, let’s be clear now. You confessed voluntarily, without any abuse by the officers.”

“I confessed voluntarily because they’d lied to me and convinced me of something that wasn’t true.”

“So you say now.”

“Objection.”

“Sustained.”

“Now, you’ve testified that you tried to recant after you were brought to your cell, but weren’t allowed to. What’s the name of the guard you spoke to?”

“I don’t know.”

“So we only have your word that you tried to recant your confession to a guard.”

“But—”

“I haven’t asked my question yet, Ms. Singer. When you met with your attorney, didn’t he tell you to recant the confession?”

“He told me to recant it because I said I was innocent.”

“But your attorney did tell you to recant, right?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s go back to the night of the murders. When you came home, your parents were asleep, correct?”

“Yes.”

“So you were the last person to enter the house.”

“Yes.”

“Did you lock the doors behind you?”

“I think so.”

“You normally lock the doors when you’re last in the house, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Were any windows left open?”

“No. My mother was allergic to trees and grass. We always kept the windows closed.”

“Did your parents keep a key outside the house in case someone was locked out?”

“Yes.”

“Where was the key kept?”

“Under an antique milk can on the back porch.”

“So, it wasn’t by the front door, right?”

“Yes. But there was a door to the house on the back porch.”

“Did you ever tell anyone where the spare key was kept?”

“No.”

“To the best of your knowledge, did your parents ever tell someone where the key was kept?”

“No.”

“So, the doors were locked, you were the only other person in the house, and no windows were open, is that right?”

Molly looked down at her hands and answered softly, “Yes.”

“Thank you. I have no further questions.”

“You can step down,” Judge Silver said. “Any other witnesses?”

“No, Your Honor,” Dani answered.

“Then let’s end here. We’ll have closing statements tomorrow.”

C
HAPTER

51

D
ani stood before the jury box. “Ladies and gentlemen. A week ago, at the beginning of this trial, I told you this was a very simple case. And that it was simple because the prosecution had no evidence which proved Molly Singer murdered her parents. They had no murder weapons with Ms. Singer’s fingerprints. They had no blood from the crime scene on any of her clothing or shoes. They had no one who witnessed the crime.

“They had no answers, and so they latched onto a frightened seventeen-year-old girl who had just witnessed a horrific sight—her parents, brutally murdered. And then what did they do? They convinced this girl—barely out of childhood—that she was the one who’d killed them. Why did they do this? Because a detective thought she was too calm when he saw her at the house.

“We know so much about post-traumatic stress disorder now. We know that people can react to extreme stress by going into a state of unnatural calm. Instead of realizing that Molly was a traumatized teenager, they isolated her from everyone and systematically created a new reality—their own. Hour after hour they wore her down to the point where she began to believe the lies they told her. Until finally, she substituted their lies for her own truth and confessed to a crime she hadn’t committed.

“By rushing to judgment, the police failed to investigate others who might have had a motive to murder the Singers. We now know that Joe Singer was part of a group of men who swindled Hudson County out of more than thirty-five million dollars. Finn Reynolds testified that he overheard Judge Bryson say someone would shut him up if Finn’s father couldn’t keep him from talking. Molly told you that Joe’s partner, Quince Michaels, argued angrily with him within days of his death. Were they arguing about the jail fraud? We don’t know for sure because the police never investigated them. Could one of those men have killed Joe and Sarah Singer? Maybe. We do know that three of those men are now dead. Thirty-five million dollars is a powerful motive to kill.

“Remember, it is the prosecution’s job to prove Molly Singer’s guilt beyond a reasonable doubt. I’ve told you what evidence they didn’t have. Let’s look at what they do have.

“There was no evidence of a break-in, and Molly was the only other person in the house. That’s true. But Molly told you the family kept an emergency key outside the house, just like I’m sure many of you do. How long would it take for someone to check nearby each of the doors to the house and find that key? Not very long.

“The only other evidence the prosecution has is Molly’s confession. Molly told you why she confessed. Not because she remembered killing her parents but because the police convinced her she did it during a blackout caused by Ambien. As soon as she was away from their influence, she realized she never would have murdered the parents she loved. Derek Deegan told you that what happened with Molly was not uncommon. Under almost the exact same circumstances, there are many cases of people falsely confessing to crimes they didn’t commit.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, when you examine all the evidence, the only conclusion that can be reached is that the prosecution has utterly failed to meet its burden. Not only is there reasonable doubt, there is considerable doubt that Molly Singer murdered her parents. Thank you.”

As Dani sat down, Eric Murdoch stood and strode over to the jurors. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury. My esteemed colleague believes that if she throws enough red herrings at you, she can confuse you enough to return a not-guilty verdict. I have more faith in your intelligence.

“There are two basic facts that are irrefutable. The defendant was alone in the house with her parents, and there was no apparent break-in. Ms. Trumball wants you to believe that an intruder skulked around the property in search of a key, politely entered through the front door, murdered the Singers, took nothing from the home, then just as politely returned the key to its hiding place. She doesn’t explain, though, why no trace of fingerprints, other than family members, was found on the key.

“The second irrefutable fact is that the defendant confessed to the crime. You saw her videotaped confession. There were no marks on her, no one pointing at gun at her head. You even heard her say that she freely and voluntarily gave that confession. Ms. Trumball wants you to believe that she was tricked into believing she was guilty. Tell me, would any of you ever confess to a crime this heinous, not only murder, but murder of your parents, if you hadn’t done it? Of course not. The defense offers as proof that she didn’t mean it by pointing to her retraction a day later, after she’d met with her attorney and no doubt been told what trouble she was in as a result of her confession. Folks, I’ve lost count of the number of criminals who’ve tried to take back a confession when they realize how much jail time they’re facing. It occurs a thousand times more often than the rare false confession.

“No one else was in the house. Molly Singer confessed. You don’t need more than that to bring back a verdict of guilty. Thank you.”

Three full days had passed since the jury began their deliberations. Three nail-biting days spent in the Andersonville Holiday Inn. Dani and her team couldn’t return to the office—it was too far away to get back to court when the call came in that a verdict was reached.

“What’s taking them so long?” Melanie asked as they waited to order lunch in their now-favorite luncheon shop in Andersonville. “It should have been a slam dunk for them.”

Dani knew that nothing short of absolute proof that someone else committed the murders was a slam dunk. And it shouldn’t take this long for the verdict to be returned. The delay could only mean bad news for Molly. She’d been on the phone with her an hour the night before, trying to calm her nerves despite Dani’s own concern about the verdict. This was the part of her job she hated most—waiting for a decision, waiting for a verdict when she’d done all she could and it was out of her hands. It felt like tumbling endlessly down an abyss, those waits. An empty hole waiting to be filled with cheers or sobs. She always shared the joy or sorrow with her clients, celebrated or commiserated. But when the news was bad, and the tears had dried up, she went home to her family. Her clients went back to prison or, worse, to their execution.

Just as the waitress came over to take their order, Dani’s phone buzzed. She quickly answered it.

“Ms. Trumball, Judge Silver would like the attorneys and the defendant to come over to the court as soon as you can.”

“We’ll be right over,” she answered, then hung up. “That was the court. They want us back there.”

“The verdict’s in?” Melanie asked.

“Didn’t say. Just told me to come in with our client.” Dani turned to Tommy. “Would you go pick Molly up at her sister’s?”

“Sure. I’ll meet you over there.”

Dani apologized to the waitress, then grabbed a muffin on the way out. She and Melanie walked the two blocks to the courthouse, went through security, then walked up the two flights to the courtroom. Eric Murdoch was already inside.

“Is there a verdict?” Dani asked him.

“Don’t know. I was just told to come in. The court officer said to let him know when everyone’s here.”

Dani and Melanie sat down in front, at the defense table, and waited for Tommy to arrive with Molly. Twenty minutes later they walked in the door. Murdoch nodded at them, then stood up and walked to the door leading to the judge’s chambers. He knocked twice and a moment later the judge’s law clerk opened the door.

“Everyone here?” he asked.

“All accounted for,” Murdoch answered. “Is there a verdict?”

“The judge will be out in a moment.” The law clerk took his seat, and a minute later, Judge Silver entered the courtroom. The parties started to rise but he waved them back down.

“Counsel, it appears we have a hung jury.”

Dani gasped. This was one outcome she hadn’t imagined.

“I’ve urged them to keep deliberating, but I’m told they’re intransigent. I’m going to declare a mistrial.”

Murdoch stood up. “May I poll the jury?”

The judge nodded. “My court officer is bringing them in now.”

The door to the back hallway opened, and twelve bleary-eyed jurors marched into the seats in the jury box.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,” the judge said, “I’ll ask you one more time, do you think if you continue to deliberate you can reach a consensus?”