The Third Victim

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The Third Victim Page 20

by Phillip Margolin


  “Whose there?” Meredith asked anxiously.

  “It’s Harry, and I’ve got great news.”

  Harry heard the locks spring open. Then Meredith was standing in the doorway. Harry smiled as he held out the bouquet he’d purchased.

  “It’s over. Mason got a death sentence. You don’t have to worry anymore.”

  Meredith looked stunned. She stared at Harry for moment. Then she leaped into his arms.

  “Thank you, thank you.”

  Harry held the flowers at arm’s length while Meredith clung to him.

  “Watch it. You’ll crush the roses,” he said.

  Meredith stepped back and looked confused for a moment. Then she saw the bouquet.

  “Oh, Harry,” she said as she took it. “You’ve been so good to me.”

  Meredith stepped aside to let Harry in. When she turned toward him, she looked sad.

  “What’s wrong?” Harry asked. “You got him, Meredith. You identified Mason’s cabin and your testimony won the case. I thought you’d be happy.”

  “I know I said that I wanted Mason dead, but now that I know he really is going to die … I guess I’m just relieved, but I can’t take any joy in a human being’s death, even if he is a monster.”

  Harry sobered. “You’re right. But you should be more than just relieved. You can start living your life again.”

  Meredith looked away. “That’s the other reason I’m not happy. I’ve given this a lot of thought. I know how you feel about me and I know you’ve been by my side every step of the way. But … There’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to say it. I’m going away.”

  “What?”

  “I can’t stay in Oregon. Every place I go reminds me of what that man did to me.” She looked directly at Harry. “I really care about you, but every time I see you, I think about the hospital and the trial.” She paused. “I’ve got to get away from here and go someplace where I can start over. Where it looks different and smells different and—”

  Meredith broke off and looked away from Harry.

  “I love you,” he said.

  “I know you do, and that’s what makes this so hard. But you live near Whisper Lake. How could I live there?”

  “I could move.”

  Meredith shook her head. “Your home is in Oregon. So is your job.”

  “I could be a cop anywhere.”

  “Harry, it won’t work. When I look at you, it brings back horrible memories. I know it’s not your fault, but that’s what happens.”

  “Time will change all that,” Harry said.

  “We can’t know that and … Look, Harry, I’m damaged goods. Making love is part of a normal relationship, but I don’t know if I can ever have sex again without thinking about what that man did to me. I know you want to save me, but sooner or later you’d regret your decision and you’d blame me.”

  Meredith reached up and touched Harry’s cheek. “You’re a great guy and you’re going to meet some great girl who can love you in every way a woman should love a man. That girl is not me.”

  Harry’s chest heaved and he thought he might cry. He tried to speak, but he was too choked up. He took a deep breath.

  “Look,” he said. “Don’t write me off. Move where you want to. Put Oregon behind you. But keep in touch. Then, if someday you change your mind…”

  “I could never write you off. I would never have gotten through this without you.”

  “Then you’ll keep in touch?”

  “Yes, but promise me that you won’t ruin your life by waiting for me. Find someone, Harry. Find someone you love and who loves you back. That’s what will make me happy, Harry. That’s what will make me happy.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  Regina was too exhausted to go back to her office, so she went straight from the courthouse to her garage. When she was in the elevator, she looked at the panel with the floor buttons and couldn’t remember where she’d parked.

  Regina started to panic. It was happening again. There had been more and more of these incidents lately. In desperation, she stabbed the button for the top floor. She’d start there and walk down. There were only ten floors. She’d find her car soon enough. Then she froze. What kind of car did she drive?

  The door opened on ten and Regina stepped out of the elevator. She looked at the cars on her right and her left. None of them looked familiar. She felt sick. What if she couldn’t remember? But she would. She would see the car and she would know it was hers.

  Regina walked by all of the cars on the top floor. Then she wound her way down. None of the cars looked familiar and her fear grew as she drew blank after blank. Tears were trickling down her cheeks by the time she reached the bottom floor of the garage and she felt like she might throw up.

  Then she remembered Stanley. She could call Stanley and Stanley would save her. She took out her phone and speed-dialed his number.

  “Please Stanley, help me,” she sobbed when Justice Cloud answered.

  * * *

  The parking garage was next to a hotel, and Stanley Cloud found Regina sitting in the hotel lobby, her shoulders hunched and her eyes fixed on the floor. Regina ran to Stanley and threw herself into his arms.

  “Thank you, thank you. I didn’t know who else to call.”

  Stanley felt desperation in her tight embrace and he let her cling to him for a moment. Then he put Regina at arm’s length. Her cheeks were tear-stained and she looked lost.

  “Talk to me, Reggie. What’s going on here?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t know.”

  Stanley was shocked. Regina sounded terrified and pathetic—two emotions Stanley couldn’t imagine Regina Barrister experiencing.

  “Does this have something to do with the death sentence in Alex Mason’s case?”

  “No,” she said as she swung her head from side to side. “It’s … it’s my car.”

  “Your car?” he asked.

  “I don’t remember where I parked and I … I can’t remember my car.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I can’t remember the car I drive,” Regina sobbed. “I’ve tried and tried, but…”

  The lobby was fairly empty, but the desk clerk was casting troubled looks in their direction. There was a restaurant with a bar just off the lobby. Stanley led Regina inside and got a booth in the back.

  “Okay,” he said when they were seated. “Start at the beginning. What’s going on?”

  “It’s not the first time and it’s happening more frequently. I can’t remember things I should remember, like appointments or where I’ve put important things like my keys. I’m scared, Stanley. I’m really scared. And it might be affecting my work. I can’t trust the decisions I make and … And I’m getting funny looks from the people in the office.”

  “Funny looks?”

  “Things I say confuse them. I won’t know what they’re talking about when I should and…” She put her head in her hands. “There’s something wrong with me.”

  Stanley studied Regina, his thoughts spinning. His mother had spent the last years of her life in a nursing home. Toward the end, she had no idea who Stanley was. Her descent into mental oblivion had started with incidents very much like the ones Regina had just recounted.

  “You need to go to a doctor,” he said, trying to appear calm even though his thoughts and emotions were spinning out of control. He loved Regina with a passion he had never felt for anyone else and he knew he would lose her if he was right about her affliction.

  Regina saw the fear in Stanley’s eyes. “You think it’s…” Her stomach clenched and she could not say the words.

  “I don’t know. I’m not a doctor. That’s why you have to go to a professional.”

  Regina ran a hand across her face. Then she wept silently.

  “I’d have to resign from the bar, Stanley. The law is my life. I’d have nothing.”

  Stanley reached out and squeezed Regina’s hands. “You’d have me, Reggie.
I won’t desert you.”

  Regina looked at Stanley. “That’s what you say now. What will you do when I’ve lost my mind?”

  * * *

  Stanley found Regina’s car. He wrote down the floor and the number of the space and gave the paper to Regina. Then he drove her home in his car. Regina didn’t talk during the ride.

  “Come in with me,” she said when Stanley parked in her driveway. “I don’t want to be alone.”

  When they were inside, Regina gripped Stanley’s hand and led him upstairs. In bed, she was wild and desperate, as if she believed that this might be the last time they would make love. When she climaxed, Regina wept and clung to Stanley with a death grip. When she released him, she lay by his side, staring at the ceiling, her hand in his. After a while, Stanley felt Regina’s grip slacken and heard her breathing soften. He turned on his side and saw that she was sound asleep.

  Stanley tried to sleep, but it was impossible. He loved Regina desperately and he realized that he should have divorced his wife long ago. Was it too late? Would Regina descend into madness, her brilliant intellect fading until there was nothing left of her mind? That thought sapped him of all joy and left him filled with despair.

  When the sun woke the chief justice, he heard the shower running. He lay in bed and waited for Regina to come out of the bathroom. He’d hoped that her deep sleep would give her new energy, but she looked broken.

  “How are you?” Stanley asked.

  “Not good. But I’ve reached a decision,” she said with great sadness. “I know what I have to do.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  Regina Barrister was usually surrounded by an aura of energy and self-confidence. When Robin walked into her boss’s office on Monday morning, Regina’s shoulders were slumped and she looked defeated.

  “Tell me about your interview with Mordessa Carpenter,” Regina said.

  “She told me that Arnold Prater handcuffed her to a bed, beat her, and burned her.”

  “And you think she was telling the truth?”

  “You didn’t see her. Mordessa Carpenter has been working as a prostitute for years. She’s hard as nails and she broke down twice.”

  “Do you really think that her testimony could have raised a reasonable doubt?”

  “I think what happened to Mordessa and what happened to Meredith Fenner could have been the work of one person, but I don’t have any trial experience. Jeff thought it would have been worth a try, but he’s not a trial lawyer, either.”

  Regina leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes.

  “I thought about what to do all weekend and I’ve decided that I did have a conflict and should have asked the judge to take me off of Mason’s case. A new lawyer might have been able to save him.”

  “What are you going to do?” Robin asked.

  Regina ran her hand across her face. She looked completely lost.

  “I’m going to do the only thing I can do and still live with myself.”

  * * *

  Regina Barrister had fearlessly faced down Supreme Court justices and rabid DAs and had always held her head high, but she could not look Martha Herrera in the eye when she walked into the judge’s chambers on Monday afternoon. With Regina were Robin Lockwood and a compact African-American man with salt-and-pepper hair, wire-rim glasses that framed serious light brown eyes, and thick lips that were set in a grim line. As soon as the man explained why he was accompanying Regina, the judge told her secretary to call the jail and Kyle Bergland.

  When Bergland entered her chambers, Herrera looked subdued.

  “Why are we here?” he asked.

  “Take a seat, Kyle. As soon as Mr. Mason comes down, I’ll answer that question.”

  The judge’s court reporter was setting up her machine when two jail guards escorted Alex Mason into Herrera’s chambers. The judge told him to take a seat on a sofa that was set against the wall.

  “This proceeding is being held at the request of Regina Barrister, Alex Mason’s attorney. Present are Mr. Mason, Miss Barrister, Miss Barrister’s associate, Robin Lockwood, the prosecutor in Mr. Mason’s case, Kyle Bergland, and Dr. Warren Guest. I’ll let Miss Barrister explain why we’re here.”

  Bergland turned toward Regina. His opponent was one of the most dynamic attorneys in the state bar, but today she looked used up.

  “This is very difficult for me,” Regina said so softly that Bergland had to strain to hear her. “Recently I’ve found that I have trouble remembering things. On Friday, after Mr. Mason was sentenced to death, I went to my garage, but I couldn’t remember where I had parked or what kind of car I drive. This wasn’t a onetime thing. It’s been going on for a while and other people have noticed.”

  Bergland’s brow furrowed. “What does this have to do with our case?”

  Regina pointed at the man who was sitting beside her. “This is Dr. Warren Guest. I went to see him Saturday and he gave me some tests.”

  Judge Herrera saw how difficult this was for Regina.

  “Why don’t you let the doctor tell everyone about your visit,” she said. Regina looked thankful that the burden of revealing her problem had been shifted to someone else.

  Dr. Guest was dressed in a dark suit that matched his somber mood.

  “I’m a neurologist. My specialty is diagnosing dementia.”

  Bergland shifted his gaze to Regina, but she was looking at the floor.

  “Regina came to my office on Saturday morning because she was worried that she might have Alzheimer’s. I conducted a series of tests and I’ve concluded that she is experiencing the early onset of the disease.”

  Bergland looked stunned. “I am so sorry, Regina. My God … I don’t know what to say.”

  Alex Mason jumped to his feet. “You kept representing me when you knew you were losing your mind!” he shouted before the guards could push him down

  “Control yourself, Mr. Mason. This is very serious and we’re going to approach this problem like adults.”

  “It’s my life on the line. You’re not going to be locked up in a cell and killed for something you didn’t do.”

  “That’s why I’m here, Alex,” Regina said. “That’s why I’m telling you and everyone else that I’m sick. I want Judge Herrera to set aside the guilty verdict and death sentence. I should have spoken up sooner. I … I should have gotten off the case as soon as I…”

  Regina choked up and tears streamed down her cheeks.

  “But you did a very good job,” Bergland protested. “I didn’t see anything that led me to believe you weren’t presenting a competent defense.”

  “There’s more to this. Mr. Mason did have a defense, but I couldn’t present it. I should have asked for a mistrial because of a conflict of interest, so Mr. Mason could have hired another lawyer who could have used the evidence in his trial, but I didn’t. Now I think my judgment was impaired.”

  “What kind of defense?” Judge Herrera asked.

  “I want Robin to outline the evidence she discovered,” Regina said.

  Everyone listened intently while Robin told Judge Herrera the manner in which Arnold Prater had tortured Mordessa Carpenter and what Mordessa knew about Prater’s treatment of Tonya Benson.

  “Your Honor,” Bergland said when Robin was through. “The evidence Miss Barrister wanted to use wouldn’t be admissible if she or another attorney tried to admit it.”

  “Why do you say that?” Herrera asked.

  “Our office had this come up recently in a misdemeanor case, so we researched the issue. I can send down for the memo, but the law is very clear. When a defendant wants to create reasonable doubt by pointing the finger of guilt at someone other than the defendant, he must show more than that this third party had a motive or opportunity to commit the charged crime. Miss Barrister would have had to prove with admissible evidence that there was substantial evidence tying the suspect to the actual commission of the murders and kidnappings.”

  “Arnold Prater tortured Tonya Benson in much t
he same way that it is alleged that she was tortured by Mr. Mason,” Robin argued.

  “Prater didn’t kill Benson or Carpenter. He let them loose after he beat them up. In Carpenter’s case, he knew she could send him to prison, but he let her go to New York after threatening her.

  “Another point: According to your witness, Prater used handcuffs, not duct tape, and burning a victim with cigarettes is certainly not unusual enough to establish a unique modus operandi. Then there’s the fact that Carpenter’s evidence about what Prater is supposed to have done to Benson is hearsay and inadmissible. But most important, our forensic experts have been over every inch of Mr. Mason’s Whisper Lake cabin and there is not one shred of evidence that Arnold Prater was ever there.”

  Robin started to speak, but the judge held up her hand. “I agree with Mr. Bergland. Unless you could have shown me admissible evidence that ties Mr. Prater to the incidents at the cabin, I would not have permitted Miss Carpenter to testify or granted Miss Barrister’s motion for mistrial. Can you do that?”

  Robin looked at Regina, who shook her head.

  “No, Judge. What we told you is what we have.”

  Judge Herrera turned to Dr. Guest. “I do find your conclusion that Miss Barrister may have tried this case with a mental impairment very troubling. As you know, Mr. Mason has been convicted of murdering two women and kidnapping another and he’s been sentenced to death. He has claimed he is innocent from the start. Countless hours have been put into prosecuting and defending this case, but I will have to set aside the verdicts and sentence if Regina was so impaired that she didn’t present a competent defense. Can you tell me—in your professional opinion—whether Miss Barrister, at this stage of her disease, is so impaired that she was incompetent to represent Mr. Mason?”

  Dr. Guest thought before responding. “I can’t answer your question. I didn’t see any part of the trial and I’m not a lawyer. I can say that Miss Barrister is in the earliest stages of the disease, but I didn’t see her when she was making decisions about how to proceed in Mr. Mason’s case.”

  “Would it help if you read the transcript of the trial?”

  “I don’t think so, but I’d be willing to read it.”

 

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