The Insanity Plea (22 page)

Sent: May 24, 2013 8:30 a.m.

From: Dan Little

To: Rita Contreras

Subject: Operation Freedom

Hi, Rita. I’ve heard all about your ordeal. Thank God for the Rice
football players! Wayne tells me you’ve made a good recovery. I hope he’s not
holding anything back. I don’t think that your attack was a coincidence. I see
the media have started calling that guy “The Runner.” I’ll use that name, too. Good
as any. It may be that you’re The Runner’s first targeted victim. The sixty
four thousand dollar question now is “why you?” Does The Runner know that we
are the ones who began to put all this together? Does he have a friend
somewhere in law enforcement that told him about your involvement in the
investigation? Somehow, he had to know that you were a morning jogger. Do you
recall any strangers on any of your morning runs? Well, maybe that’s a stupid
question.
Obviously you don’t know everyone in Hermann
Park. Lots of questions with no answers. Still, I believe it was not a random
attack. The Runner wanted to kill you that morning.

Dan

Sent: May 24, 2013 10:12 a.m.

From: Rita Contreras

To: Dan Little

Subject: Operation Freedom

Dan, I’m doing fine now. There’s nothing for Wayne to hold back. I’ve got
a scar on my neck. For now, I don’t plan to even have it touched up by a
plastic surgeon. I’ll see it every morning in the mirror, and it’ll remind me
that someone tried to kill me and I better watch my step. It gives
me
chills to think about it, but you’re right. I was the target and The
Runner knows he didn’t get the job done. The biggest residual is that I’m
having nightmares. I lie awake at night certain that every sound is the killer
coming back for me. I’ll be looking over my shoulder every time I leave this
complex. I’ve got a gun, but I let my license to carry expire years ago. I’m
signed up to re-take the class to get that permit back. I won’t hesitate to
shoot first and ask questions later. Thanks for thinking about me. Now, let’s
go back to our mission, particularly since both of us now have a personal
reason for catching The Runner.

As to your questions, I don’t have a clue as to why he would target me. Maybe
you’re right about his knowing someone in law enforcement. Could even be that
he is in some law enforcement agency, not necessarily a local one since he
travels around the country.

Did you see that there were three more victims near the The Breakers, a
fancy resort just north of Miami? If it’s him, he seems to be breaking from his
pattern (if that’s the right word).

Rita

Sent: May 24, 2013 10:30 a.m.

From: Dan Little

To: Rita Contreras

Subject: Operation Freedom

Yeah, I saw those on the internet when I got to the library this morning.
From my reading about serial killers, the longer they go, the bolder some of
them get. It may mean he’s thinking he’s untouchable. Hopefully, that means
he’ll make a mistake sometime soon. We’re only a few weeks from my trial. I
sympathize with your nightmare problem. Sometimes I think I go the entire night
just staring at the ceiling. We’ve got to catch this guy. I damn
sure
don’t want to put my fate in the hands of
twelve strangers.

Dan

After Jimmy Ray left the sports bar,
Wayne stayed, sipping his beer and thinking. Just what the hell is going on? As
far as he knew Harry Klein was generally a straight arrow. Kate was a different
story. He had to assume she would do anything to win. But this? The United
States Supreme Court had mandated years ago that the prosecution had a duty to
disclose any exculpatory evidence to defense counsel. Was this exculpatory? Was
it relevant? Duke was his criminal law expert. Might as well get his ass out of
bed and come up with a game plan.

Wayne dropped a twenty on the table,
took one last sip of beer and headed to his truck. After he fastened his seat
belt, he speed dialed Duke’s home number. The phone rang seven times before
Duke finally picked it up.

“This better be damn important, bro,”
the sleepy voice said. “Man needs his sleep. You woke Claudia, too.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know it’s a little late.
Only I’m not going to sleep all night until we make a decision on some new
information in Dan’s case. I’m on the Gulf Freeway. Put a pot of coffee on and
I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

Wayne was hitting close to ninety as
he weaved in and out of light traffic. He slowed to sixty on the Pierce Elevated
through downtown, slowed again to take the Memorial exit, waited for the light
to change to green and was soon westbound on Memorial. As he approached
Memorial Park, he turned left on a side street and entered the driveway to
Memorial Gardens, the high rise condo where Duke and Claudia had a residence on
the fourteenth floor. Wayne pulled into a space marked, “Reserved for
Delivery,” got out of his Nissan and soon was standing at the front desk of the
building, manned by one college student, working the night shift.

“Evening, I’m Wayne Little.”

“Yes, sir. Mr. Romack has already
called and said for me to expect you. Go right on up. And tell Duke that the
Lakers won tonight. It was a late game and he may not have stayed up for it.”

Wayne pushed the “up” button for the
elevator and paced until one arrived.

When the doors on the fourteenth
floor opened, he was greeted by Duke, wearing a long red silk robe, handing him
a cup of coffee. “Donny, downstairs, called and said you were on the way up. Here’s
the coffee you ordered. Come on in.”

Wayne took the steaming black coffee.
He entered Duke’s apartment where he found Claudia, dressed in a robe that matched
Duke’s, sitting on a couch and gazing out to the Houston skyline. She rose and
Wayne gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“Okay, quit messing with my woman. Take
a seat and tell us why you called this midnight meeting.”

Wayne sat in an easy chair, sipped
his coffee and started with the call earlier that day from Jimmy Ray. When he
finished, he reached in his pocket and pitched the bag with the key on the
coffee table. Duke picked it up and said, “Didn’t know Detective Jefferies was
Dan’s high school friend. This DNA report match any of the other blood?”

“Jimmy Ray says that it doesn’t, but
we’ll need to check it.”

“I can do that,” Claudia said. “Rita
took careful notes when you guys viewed the evidence. She emailed the notes to
me.”

Claudia was already up, retrieving
her laptop from the bedroom that served as her home office. Setting it on the
coffee table, with a few clicks she found the notes from the evidence review in
Galveston. “Nope, doesn’t come close.”

“Okay, Duke,” Wayne said. “Your
call.”

“Shit, man, decision’s easy. We file
a Motion to Quash the Indictment on the basis that the state failed to turn
over potentially exculpatory evidence. If it’s anywhere close to helping us
defend Dan, Kate had to turn it over.”

Wayne smiled. “And we know that Felix
is not real happy with Kate.”

“Fucking A,” Duke agreed. “What about
Jimmy Ray? He’s gonna get some heat.”

“He’ll handle it. He told me to do
whatever I thought best. What are our chances?”

 
“About fifty-fifty, damn sure good enough to
give it a shot,” Duke replied.

“I’ll have the motion ready to go
tomorrow. We can file it on Friday,” Claudia said. “You guys ask for an
emergency hearing.”

Dan was brought into the courtroom
wearing handcuffs and escorted by two deputies. As he arrived at the counsel
table where Wayne and Duke awaited him, one of the deputies removed the cuffs
and the brothers embraced.

“What’s going on, Wayne? I didn’t
know we had a hearing this morning.”

Wayne filled him in. Jim Jefferies
came through the courtroom door, accompanied by the officer that found the key.
Both had solemn looks on their faces. When Kate entered the courtroom, Duke
stared at her, wishing his eyes were lasers so they could burn right through
her pompous ass. As usual, Kate spoke to no one.

The next player to enter was Harry
Klein. He walked down the middle aisle and through the swinging door. Taking a
seat beside Kate, he whispered, “What the hell’s going on? Felix’s clerk called
and said I best get here in ten minutes”

Kate handed him a copy of the motion
and her reply. Glancing through it, his eyes got big as his countenance
darkened.
 
“Is this motion accurate? What
the hell were you thinking? Can we get out of this?”

Before she could reply, the door to
the judge’s chambers flew open and Judge Fernandez mounted his bench. Before
any of the lawyers could even stand, he started talking. “Ms. Rasmussen, I’ve
read this motion and the reply. Has Mr. Little’s team correctly laid out the
facts?”

Kate rose with Klein beside her. “Judge,
the facts are mostly accurate. The critical error is the location of the key. It
was not a part of the crime scene.”

“Not true, Judge,” Duke said as he
stood, towering over Kate. “The cops at the scene thought it was relevant
enough to include in the evidence file.”

“Judge, as an officer of this court,
I have a duty to produce relevant, exculpatory evidence. Just because some
young officer picks up a beer cap off the street doesn’t mean it has a damn
thing to do with the crime,” Kate retorted.

“Okay, okay. Let’s get the officer up
here. Officer Keneshaw, please take the stand.”

The young officer had only been out
of training for six months and was clearly nervous about the whole proceeding. He
took the stand and his voice even broke when he said “I will” after the judge
gave him the oath.

“I’ll proceed, Your Honor,” Kate said
and started to ask a question.

“No, Ms. Rasmussen. I’ll handle this
one. You may even have to be a witness,” the judge interrupted. “Now, Officer
Keneshaw, you’ve been on the force only a few months?”

“Yes, sa, sir,” Keneshaw stuttered.

“How was it you were working the
crime scene?”

“Sir, my partner and I were the ones
who got the call and responded to that couple from Fort Worth. When the crime
scene detail got there, I was just hanging around, trying to understand how
they worked. They had marked off an area that ran from about twenty feet past
the seawall, out on the jetty toward the Gulf, and over to the curb on Seawall
Boulevard.”

“Did you find the key?” Fernandez
asked.

“Yes, sir, I did.” The witness was
growing more comfortable. “It was about three feet from the curb. I heard what Ms.
Rasmussen said. There were a couple of bottle tops and beer cans in the same
area. I didn’t bother to pick them up. I picked up the key, though, and saw what
looked like a little blood on the end of it. Thought I should at least show it
to the CSI guys. I understand there are no fingerprints on it. That’s probably
my fault. I probably smeared any other prints when I picked it up. I’m sorry
about that, Judge.”

“No, son. You did just right. What
did the CSI guy say?”

“He said it probably wasn’t related,
but since I found it, they would tag it and run tests.”

“Thank you, Officer. Mr. Romack, any
questions?”

“Just a couple, Judge. Officer, what
attracted you to this key in the midst of all the other junk there at the curb
was that it had blood on it, right?”

“Yes, Counselor. That was the main
thing. Only I wasn’t sure it was blood. Could have been, though.”

Judge Fernandez rose and stood at his
bench. “Heard enough. Ms. Rasmussen, you’re within a gnat’s eyelash of having
your case thrown clean out of court and me sanctioning you. Maybe even
reporting you to the grievance committee.”

Kate remained seated, wearing her
best poker face.

“Right now, I’m not going to rule on
this motion. I’ll carry it along with the case. We’ll deal with the issue of
whether the key comes into evidence at the appropriate time. That’s it. Harry,
I want to see you alone in my chambers.”

Felix took the two steps down from
his bench and was followed by Klein. When he shut the door, Fernandez walked
over to the window. Klein remained standing, saying nothing, until Felix turned
and said, “Harry, what the hell is going on with this case? I probably should
have granted that motion but didn’t out of respect for you.”

“Judge, we both know that Kate gets a
little zealous. That’s why she’s a damn fine prosecutor.”

Felix stripped off his robe and pitched
his revolver on the desk. “Look, Harry, I have a pretty good idea about what’s
driving this case. It’s the victim’s father, right?”

Harry loosened his tie and unbuttoned
his collar, claiming that the room was getting warm. “Judge, no doubt that Mr.
Robinson is interested in seeing his daughter’s murderer brought to justice.”

“Hold it right there, Harry. We’ve
got a defendant on trial, not a murderer, at least not yet,” Fernandez fumed as
he got in the D.A.’s face. “You’ve still got your prosecution. Just make damn
sure you keep your bulldog on a tight leash.”

Silence filled the Navigator as Wayne
and Duke headed back to Houston. Wayne was feeling bad because he had gotten
his brother’s hopes up only to have them shot down. Finally Duke spoke. “Look,
Wayne. This fight isn’t over. Felix may yet toss the case out after he hears
all the evidence. If not, I can tell you the books are full of appellate
rulings where the guys upstairs have slapped down prosecutors who tried to
deep-six evidence.”