The Advocate's Daughter (27 page)

Blake Hellstrom took his time. He stood slowly, buttoned his jacket, and gave Frank Pacini an extended glare. “Deputy Director Pacini, how long have you been in the FBI?”

“Twenty-five years.” If the goal was to downplay Pacini's role as a federal agent, he wasn't doing the prosecution any favors. He wore a crisp white shirt, spoke in clipped agent-speak, and sat up straight—he looked every bit the quintessential G-Man.

“And when Mr. Serrat phoned you that night, he called you because of your law enforcement expertise, not because you two were such good friends, right?”

“I'd say a little of both. We were certainly friendly, and our daughters were friends. He didn't know what to do.”

“You went to his daughter's apartment in the middle of the night?”

“Correct.”

“And when you got there, what did you find?”

“Someone had broken in. The place had been torn up pretty good.”

“Were you concerned for Ms. Serrat at that point?”

“When Mr. Serrat first called, I thought he might be overreacting. Girls in their twenties sometimes go away for a weekend and don't tell their parents. But the apartment changed things for me.”

“And you called in some agents?”

“Yes.”

“And you had Abby's phone tracked?”

“Yes.”

“So, even before you ever got to my client's home you were acting like an agent, isn't that right, Deputy Director?”

“I already said, I went as a friend.”

“Is it typical when you go on a social visit with friends to call for backup?”

A titter from the gallery. A glare from the judge. Hellstrom didn't wait for a response. “When you arrived at my client's home did you tell him you were with the FBI?”

“I don't remember, maybe.”

“So, you've called in your men and had them processing Ms. Serrat's apartment like a crime scene, you had the government trace her phone, yet when you arrived at Mr. Montgomery's home for the search you somehow didn't have your government hat on? Is that your position?”

Fallon started to stand, but the judge darted her a look.

Pacini didn't flinch. “I'm not a lawyer. But I'm telling you what was in my mind, and I was there as a friend. And it wouldn't have mattered either way, since your client gave us clear consent for the search.”

“Says you, Deputy Director, says you.”

No reaction from Pacini.

“Tell me, did the FBI ever connect my client to the break-in at Ms. Serrat's home?”

“No.”

“Has the FBI looked for
any
suspects in Ms. Serrat's murder other than Malik?”

Sean and Emily leaned in at this, but Fallon stood ready to object.

Before Fallon got out a word, Judge Chin said, “Not the time or place, Mr. Hellstrom, move on.”

“About the phone that was found in Mr. Montgomery's home,” Hellstrom said. “Are you aware that all the data was wiped from the phone?”

“Yes.”

“Wouldn't it require some computer expertise to wipe a phone that way?”

“I'm not assigned to the investigation, but, based on my general understanding, I assume it would require some experience with software. But that's hardly uncommon with the younger generation, and the Internet has instructions available.”

Hellstrom paused. He seemed to be debating whether to ask his next question. “You say you gave Mr. Montgomery his Miranda rights before speaking to him, is that right?”

“Yes, I did. I distinctly remember because he was insulted by it.”

“It's routine to have suspects sign a Miranda waiver before questioning them, isn't it? The FBI even uses a standardized form, right?”

“This wasn't a planned interview, and I—”

“It's routine to have a form signed before an interview, correct?”

“Yes.”

“And there's no signed form here, correct?”

“That's right, but as I said—”

“You mentioned the camera footage at the Supreme Court,” Hellstrom interrupted.

“Yes.”

“It showed Malik entering the building?”

“Yes.”

“What did it show after he entered the building?”

Pacini paused. He looked at Hellstrom and said, “It didn't show anything. The rest of the footage went blank.”

“Blank? What do you mean?”

“I mean the screen went blank. I understand they believe someone erased it.” Pacini looked toward Malik Montgomery as he said the last part.

Hellstrom slowly turned his head following the imaginary dotted line from Pacini's eyes to his client. “So, Malik Montgomery, a Georgetown Law graduate, a Rhodes Scholar, a Supreme Court law clerk, had the wherewithal to sneak into the Supreme Court police station, somehow access the video recording of the night Abby Serrat was murdered, and erase the video, yet he somehow deleted everything
except
the footage incriminating himself? He took Abby Serrat's phone, wiped it clean, yet was foolish enough to hide the phone in his own home and leave the device on so it could be traced there? Is that what you think?”

They were similar to the points Hellstrom had made the day he visited Sean's office—questions that had rattled around in Sean's head since.

Before Pacini could answer the question, Hellstrom turned to the spectators in the courtroom and said, “I'm done with this witness.”

 

CHAPTER 72

After some whispering between Fallon and her colleagues, she informed the judge that the prosecution had no further witnesses. She must have assumed that the word of a respected FBI official was enough. And it probably was. It was unlikely the judge would throw out key evidence in a high-profile case absent compelling proof of government misconduct. So, with that, Judge Chin turned it over to Blake Hellstrom, who called Malik Montgomery to the stand, causing the spectator section to stir.

Malik was a handsome kid, which was always good for a defendant. An accused taking the stand, usually not so good. But Patti Fallon had correctly predicted that Hellstrom might take the risk. Sean turned and looked at the gallery and realized that Malik's testimony had nothing to do with suppressing evidence. Sure, Hellstrom wanted the phone, Malik's statements, and the surveillance video thrown out of the case. But eyeing the reporters taking notes, Sean understood that Malik's testimony wasn't about this motion at all. It was about the court of public opinion, adding fuel to the racial controversy over the prosecution.

Blake Hellstrom's suit jacket was tight over his belly and with a thumb and index finger he released the button. He stepped close to the witness box and gave his client a sympathetic nod. A fatherly gesture. “Malik, I want to ask you some questions about what happened the night the FBI and Mr. Serrat searched your home. But first, I have to ask: Did you murder Abby Serrat?”

Fallon stood, but before she got out a word, Malik definitively said, “No. I am one hundred percent innocent.”

“Your Honor,” Fallon said, a plea in her voice.

Judge Chin shot Hellstrom a look over the top of her glasses. “Don't try my patience, Mr. Hellstrom.”

Hellstrom nodded, but his eyes didn't stray from his client. “Let's start with the search, tell the judge what happened.”

Malik swallowed and turned his head slightly toward the judge, a doe-eyed gaze at Her Honor. He told her about his visitors in the middle of the night, that Pacini had shown his FBI badge, that Malik hadn't consented to the search.

“I felt compelled to let them in. I was kind of in shock and basically I just followed them around as they went room to room searching the place. I didn't want to be accused of obstruction of justice, so I just stayed out of the way.”

Hellstrom nodded and started to ask his next question when Malik interrupted. “Besides, I had nothing to hide. I wanted to help.” For the first time during the hearing, Sean thought Hellstrom's expression gave something away. Disapproval. His lips pressed tightly together and his eyes flashed for the briefest of moments. Malik had gone off script.

Hellstrom marched on. “And Mr. Serrat found his daughter's cell phone in your home?”

“Yes. Stuffed under a mattress in my spare bedroom. I told him that I had no idea how it got there.”

“So, how do you think it got there?”

“Someone must have plant—”

“Your Honor,” Patti Fallon spat. “This is beyond inappropriate, and Mr. Hellstrom knows it. He has no evidence that the phone was planted. And his motion doesn't argue the evidence was planted.”

The judge pulled off her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Last warning, Mr. Hellstrom. One more time and…” she finished the thought with a hard look.

Hellstrom gave a quizzical expression as if he'd played no role in Malik's suggestion of evidence tampering. “I apologize, Your Honor. And let me say, we're not suggesting that the Deputy Director or Mr. Serrat planted the telephone.” A pause. “We're suggesting the real killer did.”

“Your Honor!”
Fallon bellowed.

Before the judge could react, Hellstrom said, “I'll move on, Your Honor.” He turned back to Malik. “After they found the phone, what happened?”

“Mr. Serrat got really upset. He pushed me against the wall and started threatening me. I said I hadn't seen Abby since the night before. Then the Deputy Director started questioning me.”

“Did the Deputy Director read you your Miranda rights?”

“No.”

A blatant lie. Sean couldn't help but shake his head.

Malik continued, “You have to understand, this was crazy. I had Sean Serrat, a legend in the Supreme Court Bar, getting physical with me and the Deputy Director of the FBI suggesting I did something to Abby. My head was spinning.”

“What happened next?”

“Some other agents came to my house, and Mr. Serrat and the Deputy Director left. The agents took me to the FBI's field office for questioning. They kept me there all night.”

“Did you agree to the questioning?”

“I went with them, if that's what you mean. I didn't feel like I had a choice.”

“You heard Deputy Director Pacini mention that the video from the Supreme Court had been tampered with?”

Fallon broke in: “Your Honor, defendant's motion seeks to exclude the recording based on Fourth Amendment violations that allegedly took place at his home. Defendant's views about the tape itself are irrelevant.”

Blake Hellstrom furrowed his brow. “Your Honor, it's true that we are claiming that the tape is a fruit of the poisonous tree. But the recording, as the government's own witness acknowledged, was altered. They seemed to suggest it was altered by my client, so I think the court would benefit from hearing from him on this point.”

“Overruled.”

Hellstrom continued, “Did you alter the Supreme Court's surveillance video?”

“Of course not. I've never even been to the police office and certainly wouldn't have any idea how to delete something from their system.”

“Do you know anyone else who had access to the building that night?”

“The Supreme Court building was filled with people the night Abby was killed. There was a reception for the Rex Lee awards.”

“Could anyone else have access to the police office?”

“The building is like a small town with hundreds of employees, so any number of people could have gone there either the night Abby was killed or the next day before she was found.”

“But the video shows you entering the building?”

“Yes. Abby had gotten upset at dinner and stormed out. I picked her up on the street and gave her a ride. After I dropped her at the Supreme Court, I wanted to talk to her some more about things, so I parked and went to the library.”

“So why did you tell the Deputy Director otherwise?”

“I said no such thing.”

Another lie. Sean's jaw clenched.

“Did you see Abby in the library?”

Another thoughtful look from Malik. “Yes.”

The room filled with murmurs. The media had some new information. Malik Montgomery had just admitted to seeing Abby right before she was murdered. Emily tightened her grip on Sean's hand.

“Did you speak with her?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I went into the library and the lights were out. I walked toward the stacks. I didn't see anyone but I thought I heard someone in the back of the Reading Room.”

“And what happened?”

“I walked to the back where there's these two leather sofas. I didn't see Abby at first, but as I got closer I saw her.”

“What did you see?”

At this, the courtroom seemed to freeze. The spectators made no sound and the lawyers were statues. Even the judge was still, her eyes fixed on Malik. Sean couldn't seem to exhale.

“She was with a man. They were on the couch. He was on top of her. I couldn't see who he was or anything but the back of him. But it was obvious. They were having sex.”

 

CHAPTER 73

Judge Chin wacked her gavel at the ruckus that had erupted in the gallery. Patti Fallon was on her feet virtually yelling her objections as the U.S. marshals called for the spectator section to quiet.

“You two,” Judge Chin's voice cut through the melee. She pointed her gavel at Hellstrom and then Fallon. “My chambers.
Now.
”

The lawyers sheepishly followed the judge through the door in the rear of the courtroom. The court reporter gathered her gear and trailed behind. The buzz in the room grew louder as reporters and spectators milled out. Cecilia barged a path for Sean and Emily to leave.

For their part, the Serrats played stoic, in part out of shock, in part to not give the media a reaction. They followed Cecilia to an anteroom Patti Fallon had reserved for them.

“I'll be right outside if you need anything,” Cecilia said.