“Yeah, that’s right … I guess.”
“What do you mean ‘you guess’? Lady’s either pregnant or she’s not. You’re either agreeing of your own accord or not. Which is it?”
“I’m agreeing. Let’s get on with it.”
“You were Senator Wells’s driver at the time of her death. Right?”
“Yes.”
“You had been her driver then for some time. Right?”
“Yes.”
“You would drive her in connection with her responsibilities as a U.S. senator?”
“Yes.”
“Did you ever drive her in connection with her personal activities?”
“Sometimes.”
“To your knowledge, was the senator socially active?”
“What do you mean by ‘socially active’?”
“I mean she was recently widowed. Did she date a lot?”
“I don’t know if she dated a lot. I don’t know what ‘a lot’ means. My wife and I have been married forty-five years. I don’t date. I don’t know what’s a lot, Detective.”
“Mr. Grant, please just tell me what you know about the senator’s dating habits.”
“Well, she did some dating. On occasion, I would drive her to meet a date for dinner. Things like that.”
“Did she entertain dates at her townhouse?”
“I don’t have any personal knowledge about that. I was never present in her townhouse when she was … ‘entertaining,’ as you put it.”
“Did she ever talk to you about any of her dates?”
“Not really. Sometimes she would tell me she had a date coming up or she would tell me that a recent date was or was not that great.”
“Did the senator ever tell you what she did on her dates?”
“Detective, that’s out of line. Other than the fact that I did drive her to meet some dates at restaurants, I have no idea what she did on her dates. And I wouldn’t tell you if I did.”
“Sorry, Mr. Grant, I have no choice. I have to find out what you’ve got. Do you know the names of any of the senator’s dates around the time of her death?”
“She never mentioned the names of any of her dates to me. Hmm, wait a minute. What I said is correct. She never said the name of any of her dates to me, but I do think I know the name of one of her dates. Actually, I do know one of her dates, not just his name.”
“Who’s that?”
“His name’s Peter Foster. He’s the executive director of the NAIB. That’s the National Association of Investment Bankers. He’s a prominent lobbyist up on the Hill. He lives in the same townhouse complex the senator did. I know this because I used to drive him on occasion before I was working for the senator full time.”
“How do you know Wells was dating Foster?”
“Sometimes she would mention something to me about a date. But never any names. She was always very private about that. One day when I was driving her home, just a couple of days before she was murdered, the senator mentioned she was having dinner with someone that night. I asked her if she needed me to drive her. She said that wouldn’t be necessary because her date was someone who lived in her complex. A lobbyist with whom she worked up on the Hill. She just mentioned this in passing. I don’t think she had any idea that I might know who that was.
“Somewhat on autopilot, without really thinking about her penchant for privacy, I asked her if she was referring to Pete Foster. She was startled to hear me refer to Foster. Kind of a mixture of embarrassed and angry. Angry at herself. She was definitely not happy that I had made the connection. She said this information was to go no further. And it never did. Until now. Thanks for nothing, Lotello.”
“Do you know how often the senator and Foster dated?”
“I have no idea, but …”
“What?”
“Well … Foster’s married.”
“I see. Do you have any other information for me, Mr. Grant?”
“No, Detective, I don’t think so. I feel really bad that you’ve forced me to talk to you about this stuff. I hope it helps you. But I hope it doesn’t harm the senator’s reputation. Or even Foster’s, for that matter. I don’t have any respect for Foster. But his wife also has a reputation.”
“If it’s any consolation, I don’t think anything you’ve told me today is going to harm the senator’s reputation. And I’ll try to keep you out of this as well. To keep you from having to talk about this again. I can’t guarantee anything, but I’ll try. Thank you for your cooperation.” Lotello turned off the tape recorder and put it in his pocket.
“We’re done for now, Mr. Grant. I really do appreciate your help.”
“You didn’t make any friends today, Detective. I’ve driven a lot of important people in this town. What happens in my car, and what I hear in my car, has always stayed there. This makes me feel like I can’t be trusted. But, hey, I guess you’re just doing your job. Bully for you. I hope you can live with yourself.” Grant turned and walked away.
Lotello knew he had a job to do. And people to protect. Innocent people. Certainly more innocent than Wells and Foster. Somehow that was of little comfort to him right now. It didn’t soften the sting of Grant’s remarks. Or the fact that this was not one of his prouder moments. I know, Beth. You don’t have to tell me.
CHAPTER 86
Monday, August 3, 12:45 p.m.
AP Online News
Rachel Santana
NORMAN TRIAL FINALLY UNDERWAY SURPRISES CONTINUE TO MOUNT
AFTER A SURPRISING—AND still unexplained—one-week delay, the murder and rape trial of Cliff Norman is finally now getting underway, but not without at least one more stunning development this morning.
In what legal experts unanimously agree was an unprecedented and surprising decision in the course of deciding a number of pretrial motions, Judge Cyrus Brooks ruled that Norman would be permitted to present a defense of justifiable homicide. The announcement was met with such an outburst in the courtroom that Brooks threatened to clear the gallery for the remainder of the trial. While such a threat is constitutionally hollow, Brooks was visibly annoyed by the on-site reaction to his ruling.
According to legal experts interviewed by this reporter, the defense of justifiable homicide is generally reserved to circumstances where an accused is protecting himself or his family from an immediate physical threat; for example, when a property owner kills a burglar caught breaking into his home and threatening the property owner’s immediate family with a brandished weapon.
Norman’s attorney, Leah Klein, presented the argument that such a defense should be legally available to Norman on the grounds he was striking down political officials posing similar threats to the public at large by dereliction of duty—if not outright graft—in not policing conduct on the part of Wall Street that caused the current economic downturn across the country. Klein argued, by analogy, that Norman should be permitted to extend the argument to grave financial threat as a result of violation of public trust, and to the ‘family-of-man’ public at large.
At the earlier final status conference in the case, Brooks showed no interest in expanding the doctrine. This writer cannot help but wonder if his reversal of position is somehow related to the as yet unexplained one-week delay in getting the trial underway.
Political leaders across the board either declined comment or were highly critical of the Brooks ruling. Of course, there’s no surprise in that. Brooks’s ruling declares open season on all of our political leaders, who are now likely to be as much on trial as Norman.
A White House spokesperson refused to comment. “It would be inappropriate for the White House to comment on any matter currently in the courts.”
House Speaker Nancy Jamison was more outspoken. “Judge Brooks’s ruling is an affront to every one of our dedicated, hardworking public servants. It just goes to show what is happening in our judicial system these days.”
When the news of Brooks’s ruling was announced over speakers to the assembled and growi
ng crowd maintaining a daily watch in front of the courthouse for almost a week now, the reaction was quite the opposite to that of the country’s shaken political leaders. The instant and raucous cheers were heard for blocks in all directions: “Shoot them all!”
It remains to be seen how far Brooks intends to allow the doctrine of justifiable homicide to be exploited in this case, but fasten your seat belts—this case promises to be quite a circus.
CHAPTER 87
Monday, August 3, 1:30–4:15 p.m.
BROOK’S ADMINISTRATIVE CLERK KNOCKED on his chambers door. “Judge?”
“Enter. Are we ready to go?”
“There were three stragglers from the jury pool, but they’re all here now. I reminded them what you said. Hopefully, they’ll take it more to heart going forward.”
“Okay, then. Time to get this show on the road.”
Moments later, Brooks had donned his judicial robes, made the short march from his chambers to the bench, and was addressing the jury pool. “Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. As I told you before lunch, we are going to see if we can get through our voir dire process and seat our twelve jurors and two alternates this afternoon. That’s an ambitious schedule, but our new fast-track rules require it. Unfortunately, we’re already fifteen minutes behind because three of our juror candidates were late returning from lunch. We all have schedules and things to do. But it’s really important that each one of us honors the regimen and the schedule. We cannot proceed when even one of you is not here. I know the process can be a bit daunting. Particularly on the first day. Starting tomorrow morning, please make sure you’re here on time.
“This case is fairly simple. No weapon, no fingerprints, no DNA, no other scientific evidence. If we can all stay on time from now on, I hope to complete the trial and deliver the case to the jury for deliberations by this Friday.
“Each of you has already completed and returned a jury questionnaire. I have them. So does counsel for each side. We won’t need to cover that ground again.
“On the blackboard to my right you’ll see a list of eight voir dire topics that I want each of you to answer out loud for all to hear. One at a time. These are basic background questions designed to determine whether any of you might be conflicted as potential jurors in this case. In ‘packets’ of six, we’ll start with the person on the far rear left and move in sequence from there.”
The first juror candidate stood and began to speak. Brooks interrupted. “Sir. You’re welcome to stand if you wish. But that’s not necessary.”
The candidate sat. Stating his name, he then continued: “I’m not married. I have no children. I live alone. I’m a mechanical engineer. I am a registered Democrat. I have a few traffic citations but have never been convicted of a felony. I have health insurance through my employer. I haven’t had any problems with the insurance company. I don’t expect much of our political representatives. So I guess I don’t have much feeling whether they’ve been doing their job properly. I was called for jury duty once before but was dismissed without serving.”
“Thank you,” Brooks replied. “I hate to say it, but I’ve had a few traffic citations myself. I tried to talk my way out of a couple of them. No luck. I guess I wasn’t very persuasive. Next, please.”
It was two fifteen p.m. when the first six members of the jury pool had finished their presentations. The attorneys were then allowed to question the first six-pack of candidates. Reilly was invited by Brooks to go first.
Respectfully addressing the fourth candidate by his name, Reilly began. “You mentioned that you’ve had difficulties obtaining benefits from your health care provider for your wife?”
“Yes.”
“Who’s your provider?”
“Blue Cross. Actually, I think it changed its name to Anthem.”
“Do you feel Anthem was within its rights in denying coverage?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Why do you feel that way?”
“Because I’ve paid all of my premiums when they were due. They accepted my money without ever telling me they would treat me this way.”
“How did you react?”
“I didn’t react. What could I do? From what I read, most of these insurance companies are all the same.”
“Have you ever complained about this to any of your elected representatives?”
“It never occurred to me that I could do that.”
“Now that I have mentioned this idea to you, what do you think of it?”
“Not much. Probably would have been a waste of time.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Insurance companies have powerful lobbies working for them. My elected representative isn’t going to give me the time of day.”
“Do you think such behavior would entitle you to strike back at these insurance companies or your elected officials?”
“You mean physically?”
“Yes.”
“No, of course not. I think I have the right to speak out, but that’s all.”
Reilly finished and turned the floor over to Klein. She questioned a few of the first six juror candidates.
Brooks asked counsel if either of them wanted to move to strike any of the first candidates for cause. When they both nodded affirmatively, he summoned them up to the bench. Brooks whispered, “Let’s hear your motions. Quietly. The reporter’s microphone will pick up what you have to say for possible appeal.”
Arguments heard, Brooks made quick work of denying their respective motions to dismiss certain juror candidates for cause. “I’m not going to insult these possible jurors over such frivolous positions. Step back.
“Okay, counsel, does either of you choose to preemptively dismiss any of the first six candidates as a matter of right? Without need for cause. Or my approval.”
Reilly declined, deciding to save his limited number of six preemptive dismissals for potentially more serious problems. Klein acted. “Your Honor, with thanks for his good service, the defense dismisses Mr. Simon.”
Brooks glanced at the reaction on Simon’s face and knew Klein had preempted wisely: the man would never have bought into a defense of justifiable homicide if Lotello didn’t come up with some tangible evidence. Which Klein didn’t have so far. “Mr. Simon,” Brooks announced, “you are dismissed. Please return to the jury service room. They will give you a form stating that you have done your duty for the next year. Thank you.”
At 3:20, with three six-packs concluded and nine jurors seated, Brooks announced the afternoon break. He admonished the jurors to be back at three thirty-five sharp.
The process resumed on time. The number of jurors seated was now twelve. Brooks looked at the clock. It was almost ten minutes to four. There was no way he was going to bring back in eighteen additional candidates in the morning just to get two alternate jurors. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have ten minutes more this afternoon. We still need to pick our two alternate jurors. You can see how it hurt not to have started this afternoon until one forty-five. I don’t really like to do this, but we’re going to go through the next six-pack right now and see if we can’t get our two alternates this afternoon. Hopefully, we’ll be out of here by four fifteen.”
Twenty minutes later, the questioning of the latest six-pack was finished. Brooks stared at counsel, daring them to ask any questions or to make any motions for cause. Five minutes and four preemptive dismissals later, the two alternate jurors were selected and the remaining jury pool members were dismissed. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for your hard work today. Have a good evening. We’ll convene in the morning for opening statements at eight thirty sharp. Please be on time.”
* * *
PAIGE NORMAN SAT IN the courtroom gallery in her reserved first-row seat behind Cliff Norman. She thought about the jurors who had just been seated. As was always the case with any trial party, she wished they had a couple of the jurors that Reilly had knocked out. But she thought that Klein had done a good job.
She
was staring unconsciously at the back of her husband’s head. Almost as if on cue, Norman turned around and glanced at his wife. A fleeting, almost conspiratorial, smile crossed his face. It vanished just as quickly as it had appeared. So did Norman, as the bailiff escorted him out of the courtroom and back to his jailhouse home.
* * *
KLEIN WAS DEEP IN thought as she exited the courtroom. She thought that Brooks had hammered her unfairly on several of her motions to dismiss for cause. It was almost as if Brooks were having second thoughts about his justifiable homicide ruling. Blaming her for the ruling. She would have liked to give Brooks a piece of her mind, but she couldn’t lose sight of the almost unlimited power a trial court judge has to influence the jury.
CHAPTER 88
Monday, August 3, 2:30 p.m.
GRANT HAD TRIGGERED SOMETHING in Lotello’s mind. He knew that he had to confront Foster. But not until he first checked out something in his undisclosed copy of Wells’s little black book.
From his meeting with Grant, he went straight to where he had it stashed. There they were: two identical entries. Just as he had remembered them. The first was on February 3, two days before Wells was murdered. The second was on February 5, the very day she was murdered. On each of those nights, the calendar contained the notation “PF.”
Grant had solved part of the puzzle for Lotello. At least now he knew what PF meant: Peter Foster. However, this only made things more complicated: Lotello had just gone from two unconnected suspects—Hollister and Thomas—to three unconnected suspects—Hollister, Thomas, and Foster. All part of the D.C. political scene. If Foster was stepping out on his wife with Wells, he might well have had reason to do her in. And according to her calendar, it looked like Foster was with Wells on the night of her death.
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