A murmur of shock rippled through the courtroom. Brunelle looked at Yamata, eyebrow raised. She raised both of hers in return.
"I will tell you now, Mr. Karpati will not testify. He doesn't have to and he doesn't need to." Welles raised a hand and pointed at all the jurors. "And shame on every one of you who just thought that must mean he's guilty. The judge has told you before and she will tell you again: you may not hold my client's right to remain silent against him in any way. Now I know, it's human nature. We expect someone to deny the charges against him. But when the burden is on the State to prove the charges and they fail to do so, then a defendant not only may stand mute, he should. He must. And so he will.
"But you will hear from a witness. A witness who will respond to this allegation that Mr. Karpati is a vampire—or thinks he's one. Dr. Russell Orbst. He will explain, quite simply and without any doubt, that if you believe Ms. Thompson, the bartender, then you will also be required to return a verdict of not guilty."
Brunelle looked over at Yamata to offer a 'can you believe this?' eye roll, but she avoided his gaze. Instead she was looking at Welles, smiling. A big smile.
"For you see, ladies and gentleman, gone are the days when friends and family of crime victims banded together to bring vigilante justice to suspected wrongdoers. How many innocent lives were destroyed by such barbaric practices? No, we have a system now. A system with checks and balances. A system designed to vindicate the victim and protect the accused. A system designed, ultimately, to effectuate that highest of human ideals. And so, ladies and gentleman, after you hear all the evidence, you will not be convinced beyond any and all reasonable doubt that my client committed this murder. And you will acquit him, as you are supposed to.
"And when you do, it will mean one thing: Justice.
"Thank you."
Welles returned to his seat. Karpati clasped his arm and nodded an obvious thanks. Then the judge excused the jury for a brief recess before starting testimony. Once they were safely inside their sound proof room, Brunelle looked over at Welles.
"NGRI?" he asked. "Really? You want your guy to go the mental hospital instead of prison?"
Welles smiled. "No, I want him to walk out the door tonight. But short of that, I'll take the mental hospital. Their goal will be to cure him as quickly as possible, upon which event he shall be released. And," Welles' grin darkened, "I expect a speedy recovery."
Brunelle's own half-smile faded fully. He nodded with begrudging understanding, then turned back to his trial partner. While his smile was gone, hers was still in full blossom.
"What are you smiling at?" Brunelle asked.
"Russell Orbst," she answered in a low voice. "I know him from my days in civil practice. He's a total whore. He'll say whatever Welles tells him to say."
"That hardly seems like something to smile about," Brunelle observed.
Yamata's eyes twinkled. "It's not. But I know why he's doing criminal cases now. The civil bar figured him out."
"Figured him out?" Brunelle cocked his head.
"Yep," Yamata practically laughed. "You're gonna have fun with him on cross."
Brunelle looked over at Welles, all smug and glad-handling his murderous client.
He looked back to Yamata, his smile returning. "Well, good. I could use a little fun right about now."
Chapter 41
"Russell Orbst, Ph.D."
He looked every bit the expert professor. Neatly trimmed beard, and eyeglasses that Brunelle suspected had a prescription of zero. And he was clearly comfortable testifying. He responded to the questions from the lawyer by turning to the jury to deliver the answers.
"Could you please tell the jury your qualifications?" Welles invited.
Brunelle sat back and listened to the list of universities, degrees, and awards.
"Approximately how many times have you testified as an expert witness?"
"More than I can count," was the smug reply.
"But less than you used to," Yamata whispered to Brunelle.
The introductions out of the way, Welles moved directly to the heart of the matter. "Doctor, have you had a chance to review this case?"
"Yes," he looked to the jurors. "I have."
"And was that done at my request?" Welles clarified.
"Yes, it was."
"Specifically," Welles continued, "did I ask you to form an opinion regarding vampires?"
Russell laughed casually at the obvious ridiculousness of the question. "Yes, you did."
"Now, doctor," Welles became more serious in response to Orbst's laugh, "are you familiar with any cases of individuals actually believing they are vampires?"
Orbst nodded thoughtfully, trading his bemused smile for a clinical scowl. "Yes, I'm afraid I am. Such cases are more common than one might think. In fact, there is actually a clinical diagnosis for it."
"Is that right?" Welles asked as if he didn't already know.
"Yes," replied Orbst. "It's called, appropriately enough, vampirism."
"And what are the symptoms of vampirism?"
"There are several symptoms," Orbst began, "but not all of them need to be present for the diagnosis to apply. The main symptoms are delusions, paranoia, narcissism, and often insomnia. There are also documented cases of auditory and visual hallucinations. One also often sees a deep sense of persecution."
"Are you referring to individuals who want to be vampires?" Welles clarified, "Or who already believe they are vampires?"
"Well, both types exist of course," Orbst turned to direct his response to the jurors, "but the diagnosis I was referring to applies to those who actually believe they are in fact vampires."
"Do such people ever act upon this belief?" Welles asked.
"Do you mean do they bite people in the neck?" Again a comfortable look at the jury.
"Perhaps not the neck," Welles replied, "but yes, is there an attempt to drink human blood?"
Orbst frowned at the jurors. "Unfortunately, yes. Believe it or not, there are actually advocacy group for vampires. They fight what they consider misinformation about vampires. But even they claim a need for human blood. They just assert that the blood is obtained consensually by people who understand and support these true vampires."
"I imagine," Welles posited, "that such understanding blood-donors are rare."
"I would think so," chuckled Orbst. "Hence the neck-biting."
"Now these people who believe they are vampires," Welles steered the topic slightly, "they aren't really vampires, are they?"
"Umm, no." Orbst smiled at the jurors. "There are no such things as vampires."
"And believing yourself to be a vampire doesn't make you a vampire?"
"Believing yourself to be a vampire makes you mentally ill."
Welles smiled. "Would you go as far as to say that it would make you insane?"
Orbst pretended to think about the question. "Yes," he answered after a moment. "I would agree with that.
Welles took a moment to let the jurors get interested again. "Could you explain to the jury just what is meant by the word 'insane'?"
This time when Orbst turned to look at the jury, he opened his palms and took on a truly professorial affect. "People use the word 'insane' everyday, and they use the word 'crazy' and more colorful terms like 'nuts' and 'wacko.' In day-to-day speech, that's fine. We all understand it simply means something strange or out of the ordinary. But in the legal field, in a courtroom setting, insane has a very specific definition."
"And what is that definition?" Welles was practically salivating as he asked the question.
"A person is legally insane if he doesn't appreciate the wrongfulness of his conduct, if he is unable to distinguish right from wrong."
Welles nodded. "So why would someone who believes he's a vampire be considered legally insane?"
"If someone truly believed he was a vampire," Orbst explained, "then he would truly believe he needed human blood to survive. There is a principal in the law called necessi
ty. There are times when it is lawful to kill someone. One of those times is when it's necessary to save your own life. A person who truly believed he was a vampire might truly believe he needed to kill another person in order to preserve his own life. He would be wrong, but he would still believe it. And that would make him insane."
Welles turned away from Orbst for a moment. When his back was fully to the jury he gave Brunelle a wink.
"Now, doctor, I'd like you to imagine the following hypothetical." Welles turned back to his witness. "A man who truly believes he's a vampire, and truly believes he needs the blood of young girls to survive, goes and murders a young girl to drink her blood. Would that person be insane?"
Again a pause for fake consideration. "Yes. Yes, that person would be insane."
"And if a person commits a crime because they're insane, can that person be found guilty of the crime?"
"No," Orbst turned and instructed the jury. "That person would be not guilty by reason of insanity."
"Thank you, doctor." Welles looked up to the judge. "No further questions. Your Honor."
Brunelle watched Welles take his seat at the defense table. Welles didn't wear his usual smug grin—not in front of the jury. But he didn't have to. His direct had been perfect. It planted the seed of doubt generally, without ever actually admitting Karpati committed the murder or really thought he was a vampire.
So it was Brunelle's turn to cast doubt on the doubt.
"Good morning, doctor. It is doctor, right?"
Not really, Brunelle thought.
"Yes," Orbst replied. He was undoubtedly used to the question, so kept his testiness in check, but Brunelle knew it still bugged him. "I have a PhD in psychology."
"Okay, but you're not a medical doctor?"
"I don't need to be. I have five years of advanced studies in human psychology and behavior. Knowing how to perform ankle surgery wouldn't make me any more qualified."
So, not too testy, but definitely close to the surface. Yamata was right. Good.
"Do you have a practice then?" Brunelle asked. "Patients you see on a regular basis?"
Orbst turned again to deliver his answer to the jury. "My expertise is forensic psychology, not clinical. I conduct research, write articles, and of course, testify in court. I don't maintain a list of clinical clients on top of that."
"So you make your living testifying?"
Orbst took a moment to reply, wisely considering the question. "I make my living as a forensic psychologist. Testifying is just one of the aspects of that."
Brunelle nodded. Then he gestured toward Orbst. "Nice jacket."
Orbst seemed taken aback. "Er, thank you."
"Is that Lauren?"
"Uh, no," stammered Orbst. "It's an Antoni."
"Antoni," repeated Brunelle. "Is that a nice brand?"
Orbst shrugged. "Pretty nice."
Brunelle peered over the little wall in front of the witness stand. "Nice shoes, too. Are those also Antoni?"
"Antoni doesn't make shoes," Orbst replied.
"Your Honor," Welles stood up. "I'm going to object. I don't see how Mr. Orbst's fashion choices are relevant to the case at bar."
"I'm getting to that," Brunelle replied.
"Get to it quick, Mr. Brunelle," the judge warned. "Or move on."
Brunelle turned back to Orbst. "Your shoes are scuffed."
Orbst looked down. "Are they?"
"Well, more like the sole is paper-thin. And your jacket is fraying at the end of the sleeve."
Orbst raised an arm to examine the unwinding threads.
"Your practice or whatever has seen better days, I take it?"
"I don't have a clinical practice," Orbst reminded him. "And my forensic psychology business is doing fine, thank you."
"You don't get paid much for those articles you write, do you?"
"I get royalties."
"You can't live on the royalties."
"Well, no. Not exclusively."
"In fact, you make the majority of your income from testifying, isn't that true?"
"I am paid for my time." The standard answer. Time, not the opinion. Really.
"In fact," Brunelle pressed, "you'll say whatever you're paid to say, isn't that right?"
Brunelle knew it was too soon to ask that question. Orbst had heard it a thousand times and would knock it down easily. But then Orbst would think he'd won the exchange and relax.
"Of course not. I am a professional and have a reputation to maintain. A psychologist who would just say anything would soon lose all credibility."
Brunelle nodded, hand to his chin. "Good point, good point. I mean, you want to be the kind of witness who gets hired again and again, right?"
"Consulted, not hired," Orbst corrected. "And yes, exactly."
"You haven't been testifying in criminal cases very long, have you?"
Brunelle saw Orbst tense up at the question. He hoped the jury noticed it too.
"I've testified in criminal cases for some time now," Orbst answered coldly.
"But before that," Brunelle continued, "you mostly testified in civil cases, isn't that right? Lawsuits, malpractice, divorce and child custody? Stuff like that?"
Orbst nodded carefully. "Yes, stuff like that."
"And in that kind of a setting, you might get hired by either side to testify, correct? Husband or wife? Patient or hospital?"
"Correct."
"And then you screwed up, didn't you?"
Orbst's face hardened. "I didn't screw up. I testified honestly and the judge made a decision."
Brunelle smiled. Yamata was right. Orbst still wasn't over it. "You testified that a man was mentally fit to raise his children, then he drowned his daughter in the bath tub."
"I testified honestly and accurately about a forensic psychological opinion. The court made a decision based on all of the evidence in the case, not just my testimony. That little girl's death is not on my head."
The force of his denial belied it.
"And after that," Brunelle went on, "no one in the civil law community wanted to hire you again, isn't that right?"
"That is not right. I continued to testify in child custody cases and all types of civil litigation."
"But word got out, and the phone stopped ringing and you needed to expand into criminal work to pay the bills?"
"I chose to expand into criminal work."
Brunelle nodded again. "But criminal work is different, isn't it? The prosecution, we have our own psychologists, right? The doctors at Western State Hospital, right? And they're paid a salary. We don't have to pay them anything. So the State never would retain a private psychologist like you, isn't that right?"
"I wouldn't say never," Orbst replied. "It does happen."
Brunelle smiled. "But you'd agree that it's very rare."
Orbst surrendered a shrug. "I suppose it is rare."
"Exactly. So if you're going to make a living testifying in criminal cases it's going to be by testifying for defense attorneys, isn't it?"
Orbst pulled himself up. "It's going to be by testifying truthfully."
"Sure, sure." Brunelle waved the answer away. "But you would agree with me that if every time you got hired by a defense attorney, you testified that the defendant was competent to stand trial and legally responsible for his actions, well, after a while, those defense attorneys would stop calling?"
"I, I don't know."
"But," Brunelle drew the word out and laid a hand on the witness partition, "if you testified in a notorious murder case—one with shock value from an innocent young girl and a crazy vampire-man—and the murderer got acquitted because of your testimony? Your phone would be ringing off the hook, wouldn't it?"
"I testified honestly," Orbst defended.
"Those shoes are really scuffed," Brunelle observed. "Have you bought a pair since Lindsey's dad drowned her in the tub?"
"Objection!"
"Do you think of that little girl when your finger catches on a loose th
read of your jacket?"
Welles objected again, but the judge wasn't ruling on them, so Brunelle pressed on.
"Exactly how many zeros is your so-called expert opinion based on?"
"My expert opinion is based on years of study and hard work, a thorough review of all the police reports, and an extended clinical interview with Mr. Karpati!"
Brunelle stopped. He turned to Yamata who raised an eyebrow to show her understanding. Welles' eyes flew wide, then dropped intently to his legal pad. The judge had the slightest curve buried in the corner of her mouth. The jury didn't get it. But they were about to.
"You spoke with Mr. Karpati?" Brunelle asked.
Orbst's face showed he realized it too, but it was too late.
Anything you say can and will be used against you.
When Orbst hesitated, Brunelle clarified, "You spoke with him about the murder?"
"Objection," Welles tried half-heartedly. "Calls for hearsay."
Weak. Every lawyer in the room knew a defendant's own statements were never hearsay when the prosecution elicited them.
"Overruled."
"Then another objection," Welles tried again. "Any communications between my client and his psychologist are privileged."
Weak too.
"He opened the door, your honor," Brunelle responded. "The witness mentioned the interview first, not me. I should be allowed to explore."
"Objection overruled. Proceed, Mr. Brunelle."
Brunelle mentally cracked his knuckles. He'd just wanted to rattle Orbst, make him look like the expert-for-hire he was. He hadn't expected this, but he wasn't going to waste it either. The temptation was to ask 'What did he say?' But this was cross examination. Lead the witness, make him agree with you.
"Karpati admitted he killed Emily Montgomery, didn't he?"
Orbst shifted uneasily in his chair. He absently fondled the worn cuff of his jacket. Finally, after the gears stopped turning, he looked away from the jury and admitted, "Yes."
Presumption of Innocence (David Brunelle Legal Thriller Series Book 1) Page 16