"Now Officer Colson, how did you come to be on that particular street corner at that particular time?"
"In discussing the investigation with Detectives Killian and Ross it came out that Pratt had in the past taken criminal action against other women or girls in the same area."
"So the site was selected with Pratt in mind?"
"Yes," she said, hoping she was telling it properly. Killian had told her not to worry, to simply to testify to the truth. He had been comfortable telling her that since she had been shielded from knowing anything shouldn't.
"Your purpose was to flag down Pratt?"
"No. Simply to sell flowers. It was up to him to pull in or not."
Good girl, Springman thought. Burgoyne continued, rising from his chair, crossing in front of the expanse of dark wood table. "What did you wear that day?"
"Well, I dressed myself like the flower girls I had seen and the one we replaced that day on the corner. Sandals, white shorts and top... oh, and a straw hat. It was pretty hot." Colson bit her lower lip.
"What kind of shorts were they?"
Springman rose to his feet. "Your Honor, I object to this line of questioning. Mr. Burgoyne has already established what the officer was wearing."
“Yes," Burgoyne replied, "but I believe it is important to know exactly what she wore and that is the reason for this line of questioning."
"Objection overruled, proceed Mr. Burgoyne."
The lawyer repeated the question.
"Well, just shorts. White."
"Close fitting?"
"Not at all. The electronic gear was in them."
"Why was the gear not in your blouse?"
Springman thought to object but Mortenson had already made it clear that he wished to know more precisely what the officer had been wearing.
"Well, I'm not certain, it wasn't my decision."
Burgoyne changed tact. "Would the gear have fit?"
"Uhh, no, not really."
"Why not?"
"Well... there wasn't enough room."
"In other words your top was so skimpy that even a tiny bit of hardware which comfortably fit inside your shorts wouldn't fit within your top?"
"Not very comfortably."
"What?"
"It didn't fit inside my shorts very comfortably."
"Officer, could that gear fit inside the blouse you are wearing today?"
"Yes."
"But not inside the top you wore the day of the arrest?"
"No."
"Your Honor, I object. Council has already asked that question."
"Sustained. I heard the answer the first time, Mr. Burgoyne."
"Describe the top in more detail if you would?" And Burgoyne was off and running. By the end of Colson's testimony there was no doubt but that she had worn a skimpy halter.
Ross testified uneventfully, mostly concerning his tailing and the entry into Pratt’s cottage when they had arrested him. Since Killian had already gone in first though, his entry was not really at issue.
Killian was not called until late the first day. Wary and weary, he swore his oath to tell, before God, the absolute truth. Burgoyne's questioning centered around two key issues. Why did Killian suspect Pratt and why did he force entry into the cottage? The testimony was drab and boring. Killian required that Burgoyne repeat any question longer than four words and in the end Burgoyne resorted to having the court reporter read the questions back from his tape. Every answer was preceded by a five second delay. And when they came they were most often simply “yes” or “no” even when elaboration appeared compelled.
Burgoyne literally had to pull the words out of the officer. Yet Killian did it without once appearing uncooperative. He came across as wishing to be precise and correct. Nevertheless his replies were presented in a dull monotone that nearly put him to sleep.
The end result was simply that Pratt was a suspect because his P.O. had called his name in and based on his previous conduct, the operation had been set up in his established territory. There had been nothing illegal about that. Burgoyne had chosen never once to ask just what crime in which Pratt was a suspect. There was no point in rubbing the judge’s nose in it. As for the entry, Killian had merely responded to an officer's life and death need for assistance. There had been no time to give Pratt a chance to answer the door and no time to obtain a warrant.
Day two moved quickly to the oral arguments concerning the admissibility of the tape recording. Shortly before noon Judge Mortenson ruled in Springman's favor. The court would hear the tape. He could always rule the tape out for the trial. A Sony recorder was attached to the court's P.A. system and the cassette Ross had taken in his car was laid in place.
A hush fell over the spectators as the tape began.
"This is Phoenix Police Department Officer Rachel Colson, August 14, four-sixteen in the afternoon." Silence. The vague sounds of cars. Then a whisper, "This is it."
Rachel sitting in the audience was shocked to hear that. She did not recall saying it.
"Hi, mister. Wanna buy some flowers?"
"Yeah. What's those?" The tape was surprisingly clear. Colson's voice was only a little louder than Jared's.
"Carnations. They're three dollars."
"You got nice tits." A car drove passed then a second. "Real nice tits. Are they for sale too?" Snicker.
"No, they're not and I'm not either." She sounded frightened.
Noise, then, "Get in! Get in or I'll kill you, whore! Get in! Now!"
Rustling cloth and loud sounds of feet on asphalt. A door was banged shut. Then, "Down! Get down!"
The audience listened to the car's engine. "Stay down bitch or I'll kill you."
"Please don't hurt me." She was begging and for a reason Rachel could not understand she was ashamed. Across the room Viola was deathly white, Herbert bright red.
"Shut up or I'll kill you!"
Six long minutes passed. All that could be heard was the car as Jared pounded it through its gears. Suddenly the engine was cut off. "Out cunt! Get out! Careful or I'll cut you bad!"
Feet on dirt, a door open then shut. The rustle of plastic. It sounded like Jared was talking to himself but nothing came over the tape clearly. Cloth tearing. "Nice tits." Rachel could be heard whimpering. A long minute passed. Plastic again. Rachel emitted a moan of despair. Then, "Nice tits."
There was a sudden slam and Killian heard his own voice, loud, threatening, "Freeze, mother fucker!" Then hardly a second later, "Freeze asshole or you're dead!" In back somebody applauded and the judge rendered a scathing glare of rebuke. Another loud noise. "Hands up, asshole!" It was Ross. The tape continued running and before the bailiff cut it the audience heard distinctly, "Are you alright?"
"Just hold me. Just hold me." Rachel was sobbing. The tape was stopped.
A lady in blue hair was sitting just behind Rachel. She leaned forward and said, "You're a very brave girl honey." Her friend beside her whispered loudly, "Don't they make a darling couple."
It was quiet. No one quite knew what to say. Burgoyne finally decided that the silence was doing him no good at all. He rose to his feet and without discussing the tape at all moved on to the next portion of his Motion to Suppress.
But it was really all over. After lunch Judge Mortenson took final arguments. Springman could not help but think how devastating the tape had been. If only he could get it in front of a jury.
Judge Mortenson indicated that he would be taking the Motion to Suppress under advisement. "Are there any other motions?" he asked before adjourning court. The trial was due to begin in two days.
"Your Honor," Burgoyne began, rising to his feet, "I have here a motion to have my client committed to the Arizona State Hospital for psychiatric examination. In reviewing the earlier psychiatric reports I have reached the inescapable conclusion that further examination is required and that it should be done while the defendant is under observation."
Springman objected. This matter had been decided already, he argued. T
he court would be covering the same ground and delaying the trial needlessly. Burgoyne responded that caution was dictated in such a sensitive issue and the professionals at the state hospital might well be able to determine once and for all the defendant's true mental state, especially when considering the confusing and contradictory reports obtained earlier. The final persuader, he said firmly, was his client’s obvious diminished mental capacity since those reports had been prepared.
The end came at four-fifty two. Judge Mortenson ruled that Pratt be committed to the Arizona State Hospital for a period not to exceed ninety days for the purpose of observation. The time was excluded from the statutory limits.
The trial had been delayed still again.
Late the following afternoon Judge Mortenson denied Burgoyne's Motion to Suppress without elaboration.
~
Two days had passed since Judge Mortenson ordered Pratt transported across town to the state hospital. This had no direct effect on the probation matter now before Judge Vaughn. He was free to proceed if he wished and that was exactly what he wished. Pratt, however, was not in court. The deputies had not transported him for the hearing. Judge Vaughn held his anger and rescheduled the hearing for that afternoon.
To make the situation even more irritating was the absence of Burgoyne. The lawyer should have been there.
Burgoyne was surprised when Virginia informed him that he was expected in Judge Vaughn's court for the sentencing of Pratt that afternoon although he should not have been. Burgoyne fumed a few minutes then called Ferguson into his office.
"I want you to take Pratt probation sentencing today. Tell the judge I'm too ill to come. I want it continued until after the hospital examination is completed. That's a reasonable enough request that even he should be willing to grant."
The young associate nodded. "Alright. I'll do what I can."
Burgoyne shot him a look as if to say, you'd better just do it, but he said nothing.
Jared arrived for the afternoon hearing, hands cuffed before him, escorted by a single deputy. Worthington strolled over from his office, curious if Vaughn would proceed even though Pratt mental condition was under examination in another criminal matter.
Strictly speaking Judge Vaughn was well within his rights to sentence but in practice few judges would have. Springman preferred that the court wait. He feared that if prison were imposed Burgoyne would have an excellent issue with which to have that commitment over turned at a later date, particularly if the hospital kept Pratt. But the prosecutor did not intend to take an active role in court. He would state his position if asked. It would not, in Springman's opinion, be wise for the prosecutor to be in favor of any delay in any criminal proceeding involving Pratt.
The court was called to order at three-fourteen and an unsmiling Judge Vaughn entered amid a flourish of black. Springman saw the set of the jurist’s jaw and knew what the sentence would be.
As a last thought Ferguson had called the Pratt’s residence. Viola had come to the hearing though she had not been able to reach Herbert. Nothing was supposed to happen anyway.
Ferguson argued for delay until the state hospital had finished its examination. Springman had no comment. Ferguson's request was denied. Ferguson moved that the proceedings be stopped and that
Judge Vaughn commit Pratt as Judge Mortenson had. Springman had no comment.
Ferguson's motion was denied.
Ferguson moved for a continuance so the defense would have additional time to prepare other motions. Springman had nothing to say.
Ferguson's motion was denied.
In the end it was obvious to all in the courtroom that Judge Vaughn would sentence Pratt that day and that nothing, absolutely nothing, would prevent it. Springman did not need to hear the words as the judge spoke to know what the sentence would be.
"Is there any legal cause why sentence should not now be pronounced?" the judge asked, a formality of the sentencing ritual.
Ferguson looked as though he was about to launch into another motion but he knew nothing he said would hold up. "For the reasons I have already stated," he said at last.
"Very well, the court will proceed. Mr. Pratt you have previously pled guilty to the crime of Aggravated Assault, a felony. A judgment of guilty has been entered and you were placed on
probation for a period of three years. The court has found that you violated that probation. Jared Pratt, you are hereby sentenced to the Arizona State Prison for not less than four years, three hundred sixty four days and not more than five years without credit for the time you have served heretofore. Your sentence begins this day."
The judge looked down upon the defendant. He had just imposed the maximum sentence permitted by law. "My only regret, Mr. Pratt, is that it is not within my power to lock you away forever." And with that court was adjourned.
Ferguson had no comment for the reporter nor for that matter did Springman. Viola stormed from the courtroom livid that Burgoyne had not even been present.
Well, the prosecutor thought, that's one.
~
Dr. Eugene Ardalan had absolutely no problem in deciding what to do about the new commitment from the Superior Court – Jared Pratt. It was his job to keep the state hospital beds available for the crazies who saw bugs on the walls and received messages from Mars. The state legislature had long been lax, indeed derelict in not providing proper funding to the courts for the evaluative commitments and Dr. Ardalan had no intention of demonstrating he could do the job without more money. Oh, if the man were actively psychotic the doctor might keep him but not now, not in the man's present condition. In short, there was no possibility in Dr. Ardalan's mind that Pratt would be discovered sufficiently mentally ill to avoid trial.
Within forty-six days, Dr. Ardalan had penned his terse report and returned Pratt to jail for the lawyers to fight over.
Burgoyne himself appeared at the final hearing before the trial once Dr. Ardalan's report was in but he knew he had nothing of substance to present, just some flash to set up the post-conviction appeals which he was now convinced would be his road to victory.
Burgoyne despised playing a trial from beginning to end with the state Supreme Court in mind but conviction was virtually certain unless he could find one juror willing hold out against the others.
Following Judge Mortenson's ruling that Pratt was mentally fit to proceed to trial, based this time on Dr. Ardalan's report the judge, informed the two attorneys that the trial would begin in two days – the absolute last day that was within the statutory time limits. Two days would bring Friday, hardly an auspicious beginning for any trial.
Burgoyne left the courtroom deeply disappointed that he had not managed to avoid a trial but the fight was hardly over.
Springman left the final hearing with a sense of satisfaction and of foreboding. He had successfully cleared all the hurdles Burgoyne had placed before him. He didn't know if there were more to come but he doubted it. All that remained was the trial itself and unless he fouled that up terribly he was reasonably certain he would get a conviction.
He was just straightening up from getting a drink at the fountain when he was surprised to see Burgoyne smiling earnestly down at him. There was, Springman estimated, nearly ten inches difference in their height.
"It's going to be quite a show, isn't it?" Burgoyne said before leaning down to wet his lips.
"I don't think of trials as shows," Springman replied. Actually that was a pretty apt description of what this on would be but he thought it best he play the eager, serious prosecutor. He knew what was coming.
"It occurs to me that maybe you wouldn't mind passing this one up."
"What do you mean?"
"If we go to trial and I win Pratt walks on this. That wouldn't look so good for you or your department. The paper has my client already convicted of every desert slaying since Winnie Ruth Judd chopped up her girlfriend and shipped the pieces to L.A. You know, an impartial jury might not be as easy to get as you think."
<
br /> "I'll take my chances."
"I can understand that." He hesitated. Then in a low conspiratorial voice, "But why go to trial and take any chance?"
"So what do you want?" Springman asked to end this.
"A plea bargain. You give a little. I give a little. We both come out ahead."
"What's your offer?"
"Timmy pleads no contest to count two, Aggravated Assault. You drop all of the others. Judge Mortenson sentences him to the same prison term Judge Vaughn already gave him. He's going to
prison regardless of the trial so why bother? This way you get your prison term."
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