“So, I’m not one of the ladies that needs to be escorted out?” Maddy said giving him an evil look.
“You walked right into that one,” Tony said.
“Actually I was hoping you’d escort me out,” Marc said. “We’ll go out front then I’ll sneak back to my car, okay?”
Marc, with Madeline next to him, held an impromptu press conference in the second floor hallway. He politely answered a few questions, mostly reminding them the trial was far from over. When the press was satisfied, they melted away and Marc went back into the courtroom to sneak out the back to where his car was parked.
Maddy went down the stairs to the first floor. She was striding toward the front door when Gabriella Shriqui, without a camera operator, approached her.
“Hi, um, you’re Madeline Rivers aren’t you?”
Maddy recognized her and cautiously replied, “Yes.”
“Hi, I’m Gabriella Shriqui,” she said and extended her hand to Maddy. They shook hands and Gabriella said, “I see you with Marc, Mr. Kadella, a lot so I found out who you are and what you do and decided I wanted to meet you.”
“I’m not sure I want to talk to the media right…”
“I’m sorry,” Gabriella interrupted. “No camera, no microphone, nothing at all, totally off the record. But…”
“Yes,” Maddy flashed her best, most dazzling smile. “Here comes the ‘but’”.
“You’re right,” Gabriella laughed. “But, I would love to interview you. There aren’t too many gorgeous women private investigators and, from what I’ve heard, you’d make a great interview.”
“I don’t know,” Maddy said with noticeable skepticism.
“You don’t trust us and…”
“With the way the media is covering this case and how you people have treated Brittany, can you blame me?”
“No, I don’t,” Gabriella admitted. “It hasn’t been our finest hour. And, between you and me, I’m a little ashamed to be a part of it. Tell you what,” Gabriella continued. “Talk to Marc. Ask him about me and see what he thinks. Here’s my card. If you change your mind, give me a call. I promise I’ll play it straight. Plus, I’d be okay with you getting some good publicity out of it.”
“That wouldn’t hurt my business,” Madeline admitted. “I’ll talk to Marc and see what he says,” Maddy replied, starting to lower her guard a bit.
“If nothing else, I’m glad I got to meet you,” Gabriella said extending her hand to Maddy again.
“Me too,” Maddy smiled. “I’ve seen you around too and Marc usually has nice things to say about you.”
Marc made the connection from Highway 61 onto 494 westbound and decided he needed a night off. He was about as prepared for the upcoming witnesses as he was going to be and another evening in the office probably would not add much.
He considered calling Margaret and spending the night with her but decided against it. With morning rush hour, the drive from her house to the court in Hastings would take an extra hour. The idea of a quiet evening at home sounded very appealing.
“That’s interesting,” he said out loud to himself. “I must be getting old. There was a time when I would have crawled out of bed at 3:00 A.M. and gone out into a blizzard to get laid. Now, I’m looking forward to a quiet evening at home in front of the television. It’s kind of sad, pathetic even.”
Marc stopped at a grocery store a couple of blocks from his apartment. Needing a decent meal, he splurged and bought a nice New York sirloin, shocked at the price. He also got a potato to bake and a bag of salad. It was a good, quick and easy single man’s meal. On his way out he grabbed a copy of that morning’s Star Tribune and headed home.
While waiting for the baker in the oven, he hated microwaved food, he kicked back on the couch to read the paper. Marc turned the television on to check out the national news broadcasts. All of them had a one or two minute segment on the mini-riot by the protestors. Only one, CNN, showed the film of him getting hit by the angry woman. The anchor for each took a moment to make pious proclamations scolding the people involved. Of course, each of them went on to wonder how anyone could be driven to such behavior and where could it possibly come from. He sipped at a beer and read the paper’s take on the previous day’s testimony. On the whole, the article was reasonably accurate. He found three or four things he would disagree with but, not as bad as usual.
At 6:15 the local news broadcast went to a commercial break and after two minutes, just before the weather report, Melinda Pace appeared on the screen to do a promotional spot for her 6:30 show. Marc made a mental note to watch it, went back to the sports section of the paper and two minutes later his cell phone rang.
He spent the next several minutes talking to Maddy about the proposed interview with Gabriella. Marc assured her it would be okay, that Gabriella would be straight and the publicity would do her business some good.
“I have to go,” Marc said. “Melinda Pace is coming on and I want to watch it.”
“Really? You’re going to watch that bitch after the way she has treated you and Brittany?”
“I get a call from her almost every day to come on her show.”
“You’re not going to are you?”
“Probably not until after the trial. We’ll see. Here she comes. Gotta go.” And he ended the call.
“Good evening and welcome to the Court Reporter. I’m Melinda Pace and my lone guest this evening is former federal prosecutor, Steven Farben. Good evening, Steve.
“Interesting day in the Brittany Riley trial, wouldn’t you say Steve?”
“I agree Melinda,” Farben said, “and not a good day for Brittany Riley. She’s quite the little party girl.”
At that moment on the screen behind the set’s anchor desk where the two of them were seated, a photo of Brittany appeared. It was an enlarged photo of her standing on the bar displaying the trophy for winning the wet T-shirt contest. Brittany had a huge smile and was triumphantly holding the trophy above her head. In the interest of TV modesty, but in actuality to add to the titillation, the word CENSORED in red capital letters was superimposed across her breasts.
Melinda looked into the camera with an earnest, sober, stern expression and solemnly said, “It almost breaks my heart but I must point out the date stamped on this photo. Ladies and gentlemen, this was taken five days after her beautiful little girl, Becky, went missing and, five days before it was reported to the police. And, let me remind you, Brittany never did call the authorities. It was Brittany’s mother, Barbara Riley who called them. God only knows how long Brittany would have gone on partying.
“This is what came out in court today. And, there was plenty more of this behavior by Brittany that time does not allow us to show you.” All the while the photo of Brittany standing on the bar in her soaking wet T-shirt remained on the screen directly behind Melinda.
When she finished, the camera moved in for a close up of Melinda’s face centering on her eyes. As it did so, Robbie Nelson signaled Melinda and just as the camera focused on her watery, tear-filled eyes, Melinda lightly sobbed. “I’m sorry. I need to take a short break.”
They went to a commercial, Melinda smiled and asked Robbie, “How was that?”
Steven Farben laughed and Robbie sarcastically said, “Delightfully cynical, Melinda, one of your best.”
“Oh, screw you,” Melinda laughed. “It’s just show biz. Don’t take it so seriously.”
“I’m sorry folks. Sometimes these things can be a little hard to deal with,” Melinda said into the camera with a sad smile. Robbie standing beside the same camera rolled his eyes and shook his head. They were back from the commercial break and Brittany’s picture had been replaced by one of Becky. The images could not have been more starkly contrasting.
During the next several minutes, the two of them discussed Kristin Williams’ testimony. Carefully chosen clips of her actual testimony would be played and then Farber would give his opinion. Of course, as a former prosecutor his take was always
detrimental to Brittany. What they did not tell the audience was that the film clips and testimony they were shown was from detective Williams direct examination by Danica Hart.
“To be fair and balanced, as we always strive to be, I thought Brittany’s lawyer did a good job when he cross examined Williams,” Melinda said. “He scored a couple of good points for her defense.”
“Oh, not really,” Farben said staring into the camera with an obvious condescending attitude. “I mean I guess he did okay for someone with the level of experience he has. But,” at this point the wet T-shirt photo of Brittany went up behind them again, “he’s going to have a tough time overcoming the image of the uncensored version of this photo.”
“Before we go to break, there is a short clip you need to see,” Melinda said turning to look directly at the camera.
For the next one minute and twenty seconds, the audience watched a silent film of Brittany Riley seated at the defense table laughing. She was obviously whispering back and forth with Marc Kadella making light of something. It was made to appear as if Brittany was having a grand old time and the whole thing was quite amusing. What wasn’t shown or explained was that this exchange took place during a break. The judge, jury and most of the gallery were not in the courtroom. And, there was no sound to let the audience know exactly what it was about.
When the film of Brittany was finished, the camera was on a wide shot to show both Melinda and Farben at the anchor desk. They were solemnly looking at each other. Melinda lightly shook her head and asked, “What is wrong with her? Does she not know how serious this is?”
“Yeah, well,” Farben said raising his hands, palms up from the desktop and shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know.” He folded his hands on the desk and continued, “I’m not a psychiatrist but, you’d think her lawyer would make sure she knew how to behave in court, especially on trial for murder.”
“Well, it’s just amazing,” Melinda said then looked at the camera. “We’ll be right back.”
They wrapped up the show after the break by showing ninety seconds of the mini-riot centered around Marc Kadella. Three times they played the images of Marc being grabbed by the first man to get to him then Marc, swinging his briefcase and drilling the fool in the face and then the irate woman nailing Marc on the side of the head with her purse. This was followed by an edited version of the sheriff’s deputies hauling people away in handcuffs toward the jail. The camera stayed with one woman in particular who was being walked over to the jail. Gabriella Shriqui was walking with her and asking the woman over and over, “Why did you hit Brittany’s lawyer with your purse?” The short, somewhat plump middle aged woman whose hands were cuffed behind her back, was trying to shield her face from the camera. She refused to answer and eventually made it inside the jail.
“It’s shameful and I don’t understand what could possibly drive some people to act like this,” Melinda said.
When Robbie heard Melinda say this, he smiled and thought: Apparently the word irony is not in Melinda’s vocabulary.
“You’d think people would understand that everyone deserves to be represented by a lawyer,” Farben agreed. “I guarantee you that the woman who hit him with her purse has a lawyer by now.”
“I’m just glad no one was seriously injured,” Melinda said.
Farben had left and Melinda and Robbie were in her office by themselves. Robbie said, “I’ve been thinking, Melinda. What if Brittany is really innocent? You have practically declared her guilty and your audience agrees. What if she isn’t? Shouldn’t we try to be a little more even handed?”
Melinda stared at him for a moment then said, “Innocent? Look, it’s not our job to determine whether or not she’s guilty or innocent. Robert, dear, let me remind you, if you want to stay in this business you better accept the fact it is about two things: ratings and money. This is show business not a morality play. My pay and bonuses and yours are tied to ratings. Right now we are kicking ass. The trial will work itself out. People don’t want even handed, touchy feely bullshit. Hard opinions draw the audience. I know it’s cynical but we are giving them what they want.”
“Yeah, you’re right, it is cynical,” Robbie agreed
Marc pushed the power button on his television remote. He sat staring at the blank screen for ten or twelve seconds then finished his beer. He thought about what he had just watched, laughed a little bit and stood up to have his supper. He also needed to call Margaret to make plans for the weekend. He missed her and wanted to discuss the case with her and get some advice and input from her.
FIFTY FIVE
A cold front had moved in from Canada during the night dropping the air temperature to a brisk minus ten. Before Marc drove into the private parking lot behind the courthouse, he stopped his car next to a sheriff’s deputy. There were two of them standing guard at the lot’s entrance making sure no unauthorized cars parked back there.
Marc rolled down his window and the deputy said, “Morning, Mr. Kadella.”
“Morning, Carl. It’s a little cool today,” Marc answered. “Here take this,” he said as he handed the man a cardboard cup holder with two large hot coffees he had picked up for them at the Starbucks across the highway.
“Oh man! Thanks Mr. Kadella,” Carl said as he took the offering from Marc.
“There’s cream and sugar if you want it. I wasn’t sure. Oh and, please stop calling me Mr. Kadella. Marc is just fine. Enjoy.”
Marc parked his car and walked toward the building. It had snowed a little just before the cold came through and the snow was so frozen it crunched under his feet.
Brittany Riley removed her winter coat and hung it on the coat rack next to the defense table. She cupped her hands together and blew warm breath into them to warm them up.
Having seen Brittany come in, Marc turned around to say hello to Butch and Andy. The two men handed their coats to Brittany and she hung them up on the same coat rack.
“Good morning,” Marc said to his client.
“Hi,” Brittany said as she took her chair, “My Mom got a call this morning from them,” she said indicating the prosecutors who were just arriving. “They want her here after lunch.”
“Okay, that’s fine,” Marc said.
Marc turned toward Danica Hart and said good morning to her and she smiled and replied in kind. A deputy came through the gate, leaned over to whisper to Marc. “Um, some of the guys were wondering if Maddy Rivers was gonna be here today? The deputy asked.
“What’s that ring on your finger for?” Marc laughed.
“I may be married but I’m not blind,” the man said as he walked away.
The morning session was taken up with young men who had recently dated Brittany. The state had found four of them. There had been a significant amount of arguing over allowing them to testify at all. None of them had any personal knowledge of the crime and could offer nothing in the way of guilt or innocence. Marc had argued vehemently and unsuccessfully that their testimony was being offered for the sole purpose of making Brittany look like a promiscuous party girl. The prosecution argued their testimony was offered to bolster their claim of motive that Brittany was a young mother saddled with a child she didn’t want and eventually murdered her.
Vanderbeck would conduct the direct exam of each of these young men. Marc found this mildly amusing since the arrogant Lowell Vanderbeck was supposed to be first chair for the prosecution. Normally minor witnesses such as these would be handled by the second chair lawyer, Danica Hart.
First up was a young man named Nick Hanley. Nick was a twenty four year old attractive kid who had met Brittany at a party. He testified that they had dated for a couple of weeks. During the entire time, not once did Brittany tell him she had a child. He found out when she was digging through her wallet looking for something, he couldn’t remember what, while he watched. She opened it up and he saw a picture of a young blonde girl who looked a lot like Brittany. Nick said he asked her about the kid and she very reluctantly admitt
ed she had a daughter. A few days later, not ready to become a father, Nick broke it off with her.
Marc’s cross examination was very soft and only lasted about ten minutes. He got the witness to admit Brittany was a very pleasant, likeable young woman. Nick was noticeably uncomfortable and at one point even looked at Brittany and apologized to her.
He eagerly admitted he had no knowledge of the crime and could offer no testimony as to guilt or innocence.
“In your opinion, having gotten to know her, would you believe she could commit the crime she is charged with?”
This was a question that seemingly violated the cardinal rule of witness examination. Never ask a question unless you know the answer. Except, both Marc and Maddy had talked to all of this morning’s witnesses and he did know the answer.
“Objection!” Vanderbeck thundered. “This witness is hardly qualified as a medical professional.”
By this point Marc was standing ready to address the court.
“Mr. Kadella,” Connors said.
“Your Honor, the state is offering this testimony as proof of motive. As such, the witness can give his opinion as to whether or not he believes she would do such a thing. Plus, I am not claiming he is a trained psychologist. He’s an ex-boyfriend who got to know her.”
“I’ll allow it. Objection overruled. The witness will answer.”
“No! That’s nuts. The girl I knew wouldn’t do such a thing,” Nick said as Marc and Vanderbeck sat back down.
Marc passed the witness back to Vanderbeck for redirect. He stuttered around for a few minutes trying to undo the damage. He drew several objections from Marc for going over testimony he had elicited during the direct exam. All of the objections were sustained and Vanderbeck finally gave up.
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