The DA asked a few more questions, and then indicated he had nothing further for the witness. The judge gave Nick the opportunity to cross-examine.
“With pleasure, Your Honor.” Nick smiled confidently as he stood up. He looked at Dickerson, his disgust barely veiled. “Sergeant Dickerson—it is sergeant, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“You say that Randy Curtis told you her husband kicked her out?”
“Yes.”
“And yet, Sinclair paid her half of the rent. Isn’t that true?”
“Well, I don’t know. It was my sister’s apartment…”
“If it was her apartment, why were you there seemingly all the time?”
“Objection!” Cruz yelled. “Sergeant Dickerson’s presence at the apartment hasn’t been established.”
“Sustained,” the judge said. Nick nodded.
“Okay, how often would you say you were at your sister’s apartment?”
“About once a week, until Randy moved in.”
“And then?”
“All the time. I wanted to see her.”
“How did you know that Randy was Sergeant Joseph Sinclair’s wife?”
Dickerson paused, looking blank. “I… um… my sister told me, I think.”
“You didn’t know before that?”
“No.”
“So you didn’t see her name on the academy roster you received in a memo two weeks before Randy Curtis-Sinclair began the academy?”
“What memo?” Dickerson said, but he had started to perspire.
Nick walked over to the table and opened a folder, producing a document and holding it up for Dickerson. “I have here a copy of a memo addressed to you, as well as other speakers at the San Diego Police Department’s hundred and tenth academy class schedule. It contains a roster. I believe this is Ms. Curtis-Sinclair’s name listed, just below your sister’s, isn’t it?”
“Objection!” Cruz howled. “We weren’t made aware of this memo in discovery!”
Nick calmly looked at the judge. “San Diego PD has a pretty heavy workload and a large shortage in their clerical staff. It took until just this morning to receive a copy of this memo.”
The judge looked long and hard at Nick, but the lawyer’s face revealed nothing. “Objection overruled. I take it, Mr. Kopanke, that you have copies for the prosecution? Or couldn’t the overloaded clerical staff make copies either?” The judge’s voice was wry, but it was a pointed way of saying that Nick better not pull too many more rabbits out of his hat.
“Of course I have copies, Your Honor. Made them myself, as a matter of fact.” Nick’s grin was wide, and some of the audience chuckled.
He handed a copy to the prosecution and then one to Dickerson. “Do you recognize this memo?”
“I get a lot of these. I don’t read them anymore,” Dickerson said wearily.
“I see,” Nick said. “Isn’t it mandated by your department that you read all memos directed to you?”
“I don’t know that it’s a mandate…”
“Sergeant, I can produce a manual section that says it is.”
Dickerson hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
“So, did you read this memo?”
“I probably did.”
“And you didn’t notice Randy Curtis-Sinclair’s name listed just below your sister’s?”
“I probably noticed it, yes, but I didn’t know her.”
“But you got to know her, didn’t you?”
“Objection!” Cruz yelled.
“I withdraw the question,” Nick said, his eyes firmly on Dickerson. “Now, Sergeant, you said that Randy told you she didn’t want to leave the marriage without anything. Is that correct?”
“Yeah, she said that Joe wouldn’t give her anything in the divorce settlement.”
“So the Sinclairs were getting a divorce?”
“Yeah. Why do you think Randy was worried? She was going to lose all those millions.”
“Are you aware, Sergeant, that divorce papers were never filed for Joseph and Randissi Sinclair?”
“No.” Dickerson paled just slightly. “I guess I assumed that Joe was filing…”
“Yes, I’m sure you did. Now, Sergeant, you said that Randy wanted to have you pick a fight with her husband. Is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“And you said she wanted you to cause Sergeant Sinclair to ‘draw down’ on you?”
“Yes.”
“What does that mean, to ‘draw down’ on someone?”
“Well, basically it means to draw your weapon and point it at someone.”
“I see. And you said that you drew down on Sergeant Sinclair at one time?”
“Well…”
“I can have that part of the transcript read back to you, Sergeant, if you’d like, but as I recall, you were asked if you did as Ms. Curtis wanted and picked a fight with Sergeant Sinclair, to which you responded, and I quote, ‘I did one time, but I couldn’t do it,’ indicating that you could not kill another police officer. I ask again, is that correct?”
“Yes, it is,” Dickerson said, sounding flustered.
“What would you say if I told you I can produce witnesses from the apartment complex where Randy and your sister lived who will testify that it was you, and not Sergeant Sinclair, that drew his weapon first, and that Sergeant Sinclair could have easily shot you instead?”
Dickerson looked around at Cruz, his eyes worried now. “I… um… I don’t remember, to be honest with you. It all happened so fast.”
“I can call that witness and three or four more to refresh your memory, if you’d like.”
“How can they remember from so long ago? Maybe they’ve just made things up according to what the press has been saying?”
“There’s a police report on the occurrence, Sergeant.”
“There is?” Dickerson’s voice cracked ever so slightly.
“Yes. The apartment manager called the police during the occurrence, and she gave a statement as did a few other tenants, but nothing was ever done since they assumed it was police-related business. Let me ask you this, Sergeant. Do you recall Randy herself drawing Sergeant Sinclair’s own backup weapon and pointing it at you?”
A murmur went through the courtroom, and Dickerson started to look really nervous. “I… No, I don’t remember that.”
“The witnesses do.”
“Objection,” Cruz snapped. “Your Honor, why don’t we have a copy of the police report?”
The judge looked at Nick, who shrugged. “They should have it, sir. I listed it with all the other reports and information.”
Cruz turned pale. He started to look frantically through his paperwork. Nick had taken a chance that Cruz wouldn’t read the informal complaint, and he had been right. Cruz’s plate was so full, since he was campaigning to become the next DA, that he didn’t have time to be as thorough as he should be. Thoroughness hadn’t ever been his strong point anyway. Nick grinned as Cruz found the two-page report buried in the mass of discovery paperwork. Nick wasn’t even sure what all he had listed in discovery—he’d loaded it up with so much non-essential paperwork that he knew Cruz would miss a few things.
Nick turned to the judge and smiled. “See?”
The judge grinned. He had an idea what Nick was doing, but he’d liked the guy when he was in the DA’s office, and he still did now.
Nick turned back to Dickerson. “Now, Sergeant, you say you don’t remember Ms. Curtis pointing a gun at you?”
“No, I don’t remember.”
“If someone pointed a gun at me, I’d certainly remember.” Nick sounded surprised.
“People point guns at me all the time.”
“I see,” Nick said, so deadpan that another chuckle went around the courtroom.
“I’m a cop.”
“I’m aware of that,” Nick said, his expression still nonplussed. “Moving on. The incident with Lieutenant Chevalier. You said that Ms. Curtis did all the hitting?”
/> “I didn’t say that.”
“You said that she picked the fight and instructed you to hold Lieutenant Chevalier so she could ‘get her licks in’ when she was starting to lose. Nowhere in that statement do I read that you struck Lieutenant Chevalier. Did you?”
“Did I what?” Dickerson said, trying to evade the question.
“Did you strike Lieutenant Chevalier?”
“No.”
“Back to my original question. You said Ms. Curtis did all the hitting—is that correct?”
“Yes, I guess so.”
“You guess so?” Nick looked at Dickerson cynically. “Sergeant, if you didn’t hit Lieutenant Chevalier and Ms. Curtis was the only other person in the room, then it should be safe to say that Ms. Curtis did all the hitting.”
“Okay, fine, yes. Randy did all the hitting.”
“Okay.” Nick walked back over to his table and looked down at Randy as he opened his folder again. He gave her a slight smile, and she returned it. She was thoroughly enjoying watching Dickerson squirm.
He turned back to Dickerson. “I have here a report from the hospital that treated Lieutenant Chevalier.” He looked over at Cruz pointedly. “I trust, Deputy DA Cruz, that you have this report?”
Cruz shot him a nasty look and nodded.
“Good. Now, Sergeant, this report indicates that Lieutenant Chevalier sustained head trauma due to blunt force. It also indicates that her internal hemorrhaging resulted from the same. You’re saying that Ms. Curtis managed to inflict these wounds with her hands?”
“I guess so. I’m not exactly a doctor.”
“No.” Nick pulled another sheet of paper from his folder and glanced over at Cruz before turning back to Dickerson. “Now, this report was completed by San Diego Police Department’s crime scene investigators. They indicate a blood-spray pattern on the entryway wall to Lieutenant Chevalier’s home. How do you suppose that blood got there?”
“I don’t know.”
“Okay. The crime scene investigators indicated that Lieutenant Chevalier was thrown against the wall. It had her handprint on it, where she tried to stop her forward motion, and the pattern of blood and subsequent pooling indicated that she had hit the wall and slid to the ground, probably unconscious. I checked this with the medical examiner, and he indicated that it would be consistent with her injuries. What do you have to say about that?”
“I don’t know anything about any of that,” Dickerson said warily.
“Did Ms. Curtis throw Lieutenant Chevalier into the wall?”
“Maybe.”
Nick turned and looked at Randy, tilting his head to the side as if sizing her up. “My client looks like she might weigh a hundred and ten pounds soaking wet, and I’ve seen Lieutenant Chevalier—she’s maybe a little bit bigger, but she looks a whole lot stronger. You’ve seen Lieutenant Chevalier, Sergeant. Wouldn’t you say she’s probably a lot more solid than my client?”
“I don’t know,” Dickerson said, his voice noncommittal.
“We could get experts in here to compare the two women.”
“I guess so, yeah—Chevalier is probably more muscular. So? Randy was mad.”
“Yes, but you said you were holding Lieutenant Chevalier. If that’s so, how did Randy manage to throw the lieutenant against a wall?” Dickerson stared back at the attorney; he knew he’d been caught, and he was trying desperately to think of a way out. “You also stated that you had no idea that Randy planned to hurt the lieutenant that much, and yet you would allow her to throw the lieutenant against a wall?” Again, Dickerson didn’t answer. “What did you do when you realized that the lieutenant was unconscious? Did you call the paramedics?”
“No. I didn’t realize she was hurt that badly.”
“She was unconscious, Sergeant.” Nick’s voice indicated his distaste for Dickerson’s assessment of the situation.
“I… I guess I just panicked.”
“Panicked?”
“Yeah. I mean, I knew Randy’d get into a lot of trouble, and I was so worried about her and all that I just panicked, and we left.”
“So much for your love for your fellow officer—or is that just for the brother officers?” Again, a murmur started in the courtroom.
“No, I—” Dickerson started, but Nick cut him off.
“You said that Ms. Curtis gave you the security code to Sergeant Sinclair and her house. Is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“Did she write it down for you?”
“What?”
“Did she write it down?”
“Yes.”
“On what?”
“What?”
“What did she write it on?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Did she write it on a napkin, a piece of paper, the back of your hand—what?”
“I, uh… I don’t remember.”
“Okay. You said that you didn’t order the men who accosted Sergeant Sinclair to shoot him. Is that correct?”
“Right.”
“Do you know how Sergeant Sinclair was injured in the shoulder?”
“What?”
“Sergeant Sinclair was shot in the shoulder. He said you did it. Is that true?”
“No.”
“It’s not?”
“No.”
“Do you know how Sergeant Sinclair was injured in the abdomen?”
“No.”
“He was shot, Sergeant. What kind of weapon do you carry?”
“I, uh, I carry a forty-five caliber Ruger. Why?”
“Let me ask the questions, Sergeant. What would you say if I told you that the bullet wounds to Sergeant Sinclair’s shoulder and abdomen were a ballistic match for the bullets in your gun?”
“I’m sure I’m not the only person in the world to carry a forty-five Ruger,” Dickerson said haughtily.
“No, but are you saying a ballistics match isn’t proof?”
“I guess it is.”
“You said you loved Randy Curtis-Sinclair. Is that true?”
“Yes.”
“Do you still love her?”
“Not after all that’s happened, no.”
“But you loved her before?”
“Yes.”
“Would you have married her?”
“What?”
“If she’d gotten a divorce from her husband, would you have married her?”
“I don’t know.”
“But you loved her.”
“Yes.”
“And you didn’t know she wasn’t getting divorced?”
“No.”
“Even when she went back to her husband only two weeks after starting to date you?”
“I, well…” Dickerson’s voice trailed off again as he realized that what he’d been telling the press hadn’t convinced the important people. “I guess I kind of figured she wasn’t getting a divorce.”
“But Sergeant Sinclair was harassing her to stay away from you?”
“Yes.”
“Why would he need to do that if she was with him?”
“I guess he was afraid she loved me too.”
“Did she?”
“What?”
“Did she love you too?”
Dickerson looked over at Randy and saw the triumph in her eyes. “I thought so.”
“But she left you to go back to her husband.” Nick shook his head. “I have no further questions for this witness, Your Honor.”
He sat back down next to Randy and was summarily patted on the back by many members of FORS. Randy smiled at him, inclining her head by way of thanks. Nick was pretty satisfied with himself.
When it came time for the defense, Nick called the members of FORS up one by one. Each of them told him that Randy wasn’t the kind of person to go after Joe’s money, that they honestly believed she loved Joe very much and she had just lost her way a little bit, and she had found the wrong guy to travel that path with.
Nick called Richard Debenshire to the stand
. Rick looked very solemn as he sat in the witness chair. “Officer Debenshire, for the record, you’re married to Lieutenant Chevalier. Is that correct?”
Rick nodded. “Yes.”
“And it was your child that died in the incident with Sergeant Dickerson and Randy. Is that true?”
“Yes.” Rick’s eyes looked a little haunted.
“And who found the lieutenant?”
“Our three-year-old daughter did.” Murmurs raced around the courtroom once again.
“I know this is difficult for you, but can you tell me what happened?”
Rick’s eyes took on a distant look. “I had dropped our three-year-old daughter off at the house. She went into the bedroom and found her mother lying in a pool of her own blood. She called me, and when I got back to the house, I called the paramedics. Midnight was almost dead.” Rick swallowed and closed his eyes briefly as the memories came back.
“And you found the blood on the entryway wall. Is that correct?”
“Yes, and I called the crime scene team in.”
“Would you say your wife is strong, Officer Debenshire?”
“She can kick my ass if she’s mad enough,” Rick said, grinning. A laugh went up from the members of FORS.
“So you find it hard to believe that Randy could have inflicted the damage to your wife that she’s accused of?”
Rick looked over at Randy, and then back to Nick. “Even if Randy was capable of it mentally, she couldn’t take Midnight. Not many women can.”
“So you think that Sergeant Dickerson had something to do with it?”
“Objection!” Cruz yelled. “Sergeant Dickerson isn’t on trial here.”
“Oh, no, that’s next week—sorry.” Nick didn’t look the least bit apologetic. “I withdraw that question. Rick, do you think that Randy intended to kill your wife, at any time?”
“No.”
“What is your relationship with Sergeant Sinclair?”
“He’s been my best friend since I was five.”
“So you two are pretty close?”
Rick grinned. “That’s safe to say.”
“And do you think that Randy had any intention of having your best friend killed?”
“No. I think she ended up with the wrong people, and they made things look the way they wanted them to.”
“Do you think Sergeant Sinclair is gullible?”
Betrayals Stand (MidKnight Blue Book 5) Page 16