The Insanity Plea (35 page)

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Authors: Larry D. Thompson

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“I’m going to have to sustain that
one, Mr. Little. Please move on. The jury is instructed to disregard Mr. Little’s
question and the answer.”

Duke smiled as he looked at the jury.
Many of them were clearly confused about this whole concept of insanity and how
it could vary from state to state. Kate’s objection had emphasized the point
that a defendant could be put to death in one state and face only psychiatric
care in another.
What a system,
he
thought. As for the judge’s instruction, he knew they would not disregard the
testimony.

“Now, Dr. Parke, let’s talk about
this comment you made that Dan wouldn’t have taken the bracelet if a cop had
been watching.”

Wayne walked over to the evidence table
and picked through the videos until he found the right one. Pacing up and down
in front of the jury, holding disc in his hand, he continued. “Now, I’m pretty
good with videos. If you can tell me the approximate time that the digital
clock recorded that comment, I’ll fast-forward to it.”

Parke twisted uncomfortably in his
chair. “I’m afraid it’s not there. That’s part of the interview I accidentally
erased during the interview. I apologize.”

Although he anticipated Parke’s
answer Wayne looked at the jury with astonishment. “So, when you said that
there was nothing important on that missing section, you’re saying that wasn’t
an important admission by my brother?”

“Sir, I was in error. It was an
important admission.”

“What you’re saying is the jury is
just going to have to take your word for it.”

“Ladies…” Dr. Parke started to reply
as he faced the jury, but was stopped when Wayne pitched the DVD about five
feet to the evidence table where it landed with a whack and, shaking his head
in disgust, he returned to his seat.

On the front row of the audience,
Rita gasped audibly when she heard Parke say ‘Ladies’and momentarily hyperventilated,
causing several of the jurors to look at her with concern. Rita took a few deep
breaths, steadied herself and grabbed her legal pad as she scribbled something.
She ripped the page from the pad, got up and walked to the defense counsel table.
Every eye in the courtroom followed her. Wayne saw her coming and reached back
to take the note. Instead, she handed it to Dan. Dan opened it and read,
Don’t let Wayne finish with Parke today. We
must have him back on Monday. Act crazy if you need to.

 
Dan folded the paper and put it in his pocket,
then turned to Rita and nodded his understanding. Rita walked back to the first
bench, picked up her purse and motioned for Claudia to follow her.

CHAPTER 72

 

 

When the elevator door opened, the
two women found it empty. As they descended, Claudia demanded to know what they
were doing. Rita remained silent until they passed the security check point and
left the courthouse on the way to the parking garage. Then she explained her
theory and what they had to do. “Listen, Claudia, I think it was Parke who
tried to kill me. He may have also murdered Debbie Robinson.”

“Rita, you may be the one who’s
insane. All of this stress is getting to you. Dr. Parke is one of the most
respected professionals in his field. He’s devoted his life to catching serial
killers.”

“No, Claudia, listen to me. When he
said ‘ladies’ and Wayne cut him off by throwing that video, it suddenly hit me.
It took me back to my attack. I can’t explain it. Call it woman’s intuition
honed by years of doing investigations. Call it a hunch. Call it whatever you
want. Look, I may be completely wrong, but we have to try to prove it.”

“Rita, the trial is almost over. You
don’t have time to prove anything.”

 
“You’re wrong. They found blood under my fingernails
after the attack on me, remember? It was never identified. Then after Debbie’s
murder, they found the blood on that key. My hunch is it’s the same person and
that person is Frederick Parke. If it turns out to be him, we’ll get Dan off.” A
look of determination came over her face. “If I’m right, I want that guy to fry
for what he did to me and Debbie and for what he’s trying to do to Dan. We’ve
got about three hours before court adjourns and he returns to his room. We’ve
got to get there first. We’re going after Parke’s DNA.”

“Wait just a damn minute. Breaking
and entering is against the law, or maybe you forgot that little point,”
Claudia almost yelled.

“Claudia, calm down. You don’t need
to announce it to everyone in three blocks. Besides, it won’t be the first time
I’ve gone somewhere I shouldn’t have. When I was an investigator, I did
whatever it took to gather evidence. That’s what we’re going to do now, and
we’ve got to do it by no later than five this afternoon. Look, we’re only going
after a few DNA samples, nothing worth a dime. If we got caught, it’d be a
misdemeanor and a fine. If you don’t want to join me, just say the word.”

Claudia gazed out the window while
she thought. “Are you suggesting that Parke may be The Runner?”

Rita pondered the question before she
replied. “Can’t even think about that right now. I barely have time to deal
with what we’re about to do. I want to focus on Debbie’s death and my attack.”

There was silence for several moments
before Claudia spoke. “Okay, I’m in. It’s Dan’s life on the line. I’ll deal
with the state bar if I have to.”

Rita nodded her understanding with a
smile. She backed out of the space and roared down three levels, barely slowed
and turned onto 19
th
Street toward Broadway. Claudia tightened her
seat belt as she continued. “I presume that somewhere in that private
investigator’s mind, you’ve already come up with a plan. Since you’re about to
put me in danger of going to jail, not to mention losing my law license, you
care to fill me in?”

“I got friends in low places,” Rita
smiled as she turned onto Broadway and ran a light that was turning from yellow
to red. “Just kidding. Only, I’ve got an uncle here. My mother’s brother, Luis
Rodriquez. Owns
Lou’s Locks and Keys
out on 61
st
. He’s not above doing something slightly questionable. Besides,
I’m his favorite niece.”

The light changed and Rita burned
rubber when she floored the gas pedal. “Rita, we may not live to get there if
you don’t take it easy.”

Rita ignored the comment and weaved
through the traffic on Broadway. At the intersection of 42
nd
she was
forced to stop at the light behind a red pickup. When the light changed and the
pickup hadn’t moved in a split second, Rita pounded the horn. The pickup driver
pulled slowly away, his left hand out the window in a middle finger salute.

At 61
st
, the left turn
light was showing green. Rita wheeled around the corner, careening off the curb.
For a moment Claudia thought that Rita was going to wrap her side of the Lexus
around a utility pole. Three blocks later, Claudia spotted an old strip center
that probably once contained a convenience store. Now, sandwiched between two
bait shops was a smaller shop, maybe fifteen feet across with a sign
proclaiming
Lou’s Locks and Keys.
Rita
parked in the one place in front of her uncle’s store and leaped from the car. “Come
on, Claudia. Move your ass. We have work to do.”

Claudia hurried to unbelt herself and
followed. When they entered the shop, she saw rows of keys on one wall. The
other displayed locks of varying shapes and sizes. Toward the back was a
counter with an old fashioned cash register and a key duplicating machine. The
place was deserted.

“Rita, your uncle’s not here.”

“Don’t worry,” Rita smiled. “If the
door’s open, he’s here. This just means he’s out on the back porch, fishing in
Galveston Bay. Come on.” Rita went through a screen door with Claudia trailing
her. They found themselves on a small porch, weathered and unpainted. Several
fishing rods lined the porch rail. Behind it were two old metal chairs and a
bait bucket. Lou was seated on one of the chairs, holding one rod and carefully
watching the others as he sipped a beer.

“Hey, Uncle Lou.”

“Quiet, Rita. You want to scare the
damn fish away? You know I taught you better.” Lou was about seventy with a
full head of white hair, a dark complexion and a face wrinkled by fifty years
of smoking Marlboros. Sipping from a Budweiser, he asked, “You and your friend
want a beer?”

Before they could reply, he leaped to
his feet and grabbed one of the rods. Jerking it to set the hook, he began
reeling and soon reached down to net a redfish. He gently removed the hook and
pulled up a stringer. As he threaded it through the fish’s gills, Rita replied.
“No, Uncle Lou. We need to get in a room and only have a few hours. We need
your help.”

Rita outlined her plan. Lou was
already reeling in his fishing lines and placing the rods on racks behind him. When
Rita paused, he spoke. “I know that old hotel. They still use keys, not those
new-fangled magnetic cards. I’m over there all the time, changing locks and
making keys. Know most everyone who works there.”

Lou walked back into his shop and
rummaged around in a closet until he found two pairs of coveralls with his shop
name on the back. “Here, put these on. And, by the way, you might want to
introduce me to your friend.”

Rita introduced Claudia while they
pulled the coveralls on over their dresses and buttoned the fronts.

“Now, take off all that make-up. Working
women don’t look like they stepped out of the beauty parlor. And we’ve got to
get you some different shoes. High heels don’t fit the image either. Give me
those shoes. They’ll be flats in thirty seconds.”

Both women handed him their shoes and
he grabbed a big knife that he used to clean his fish.

“Wait, what’s he doing?” Claudia
exclaimed. “Those are my Monolo Blahneks. I paid five hundred dollars for them.”

Lou ignored her and with four whacks,
Rita and Claudia now had flats. “Still a little fancy, but maybe nobody will
notice. Let me grab some tools and we’ll be on our way.”

Rita and Claudia put on their shoes. As
Claudia did so, she complained, “These shoes aren’t made for walking without
heels.”

“Relax,” Rita replied. “We’ll be
mainly riding. You can walk a few hundred feet. And I’ll make Wayne buy you a
new pair when this is over.

“Wait, Lou, one more thing. I need a
few plastic baggies and some kind of small brush. What do you have around
here?”

Lou went to a drawer and found half a
dozen bags that he handed to Rita. Then, he turned to the key machine and
picked up a brush that he used to clean new keys.

When they left, Lou turned a sign
over that now said the shop was closed and locked the door. Rita was headed
toward her car when Lou stopped her. “No, Rita. You’re working for me now, remember?
Come around to the side.”

Rita and Claudia followed him to the
side of the building where they saw an old Ford panel truck, circa 1990 or so. “Claudia,”
Lou said, “since you’re the guest, you ride shotgun. Rita, you get the cushion
on the floor behind us.”

As they backtracked down Broadway,
Rita said, “Uncle Lou. I don’t know this guy’s room. Can you get the room
number for us?”

“You got two hundred dollars?” Lou
asked.

Rita fished around in her purse until
she found ten twenties and passed them forward.

Lou stuck the money in his coveralls
and continued. “For two hundred, I can get you the names and room numbers of
everybody in that hotel.”

“That’s okay. We only want the one
occupied by Dr. Frederick Parke.”

In the front seat Claudia remained silent.
What am I doing,
she thought.
My dad’s a minister. My mother’s a school
teacher. I’m a Phi Beta Kappa and a Harvard law graduate. I’ve only had two
traffic tickets in my entire life. Now I’m about to commit a burglary.
Then
she thought about what Dan faced and realized she had to put her faith in Rita.
For good measure she crossed herself even though she was Baptist.

Lou turned the old truck into the
alley behind the hotel and parked it close to the employee entrance. As he
expected, the door was propped open by an orange pylon. “You girls stay here. I’ll
be back in five minutes.” At the door, he stopped to visit with one of the
kitchen staff who had a garbage sack and was heading toward a dumpster. Then he
was inside.

Claudia turned to the back of the truck.
“Look, Rita. I’m really worried. Do you think we can pull this off?”

Rita patted her friend on the back. “We’ll
be fine. Just act like we’re part of Lou’s team and let him get us in the room.
Once inside, it shouldn’t take more than a couple of minutes.”

While they waited, Rita glanced
around the back of the truck and spotted two old gimme caps with
Lou’s Locks
on the front. “Here,
Claudia, put this on and stuff your hair underneath.”

Rita pushed her hair under the cap
and got to her knees to look in the rearview mirror. “Not bad. No make-up, and
these coveralls hide our boobs. Only a close look would reveal that we’re
women. Nice disguise for such short notice.”

Then Lou came out the door, a smile
on his face. He opened the sliding door to the truck, nodded his agreement to
the caps and reached for a tool box. “Follow me, guys. Just keep your mouths
shut. Your friend is in room 402. I know exactly where it is.”

Lou led the way, greeting everyone he
passed, even pausing to ask about wives or husbands and families. Rita mentally
encouraged him to hurry but kept her mouth shut, knowing that Lou had to do
what came naturally. Claudia kept turning her head from side to side, expecting
to see a security guard at any time until Rita motioned her to knock it off.

At the next corner, Claudia’s
nightmare came true. A security guard was leaning against the wall, talking to
a bellman
. Shit,
Claudia thought, as
she started to turn around and head for the alley. Rita grabbed her when Lou
walked up to the guard, shook his hand and said he had some work to do on the
fourth floor. Looking back at Rita and Claudia, he explained that he was
training a couple of new employees. They walked past the guard with Claudia
tugging on her cap and looking at the floor.

Lou pushed the button at the elevators.
A door opened and they entered a glass enclosed elevator, overlooking the
atrium lobby. In a matter of moments they were exiting onto the fourth floor
and following Lou to room 402. When they got there, Lou fished in his pocket
and pulled out a key which he inserted into the lock. “Damn,” he said. “My old
master key to this building isn’t working. No problem.”

He opened his tool box and pulled out
a ring of lock picking tools. In less than thirty seconds he had the door open,
smiled and bowed as he extended his hand for his two accomplices to enter.

Once the door was closed, Claudia
said, “Okay. Now, what’re we looking for? I want out of here.”

“DNA evidence,” Rita replied.

“You mean, blood, semen, that kind of
stuff?” Lou asked.

“No,” Rita said as she walked to the
bathroom. “That’s the old days. These days we need hair, skin cells. Hopefully,
Parke uses an electric razor.”

In the bathroom she found what she
hoped for, a Remington electric razor. She pulled a bag from her coveralls,
removed the top of the razor and was pleased to find it hadn’t been cleaned in
two or three days. Taking the key brush, she carefully swept the hair and other
debris, including skin cells, into the bag. Then she sealed it.

Next, she picked up a toothbrush and
placed it in another bag. She knew Parke would miss the toothbrush. With
nothing else missing, she concluded he would think that a maid accidentally
picked it up. Whatever he thought, she didn’t really care.

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