Presumption of Innocence (David Brunelle Legal Thriller Series Book 1)

by Stephen Penner

  All the professionals in the room knew Orbst would never get hired again. Too bad for him.

  "He tied her hands behind her back, hoisted her upside down, and slit her artery to drain her blood, right?"

  Another pause. Orbst still didn't look at the jury. "Right."

  "And he did it because he wanted people to think he was a vampire, correct?"

  Orbst looked up at Brunelle defiantly. "He did it because he is mentally ill and not responsible for his actions."

  Brunelle frowned. One question too far, that was the danger in cross. But he'd needed to ask that question. Having done so, he had to clean up Orbst's answer. Or at least scare the hell out of the jury so they would never consider walking Karpati.

  "Mentally ill?" Brunelle confirmed.

  "Yes," Orbst sneered. "It is my expert opinion that Mr. Karpati suffers from vampirism and therefore does not appreciate the wrongfulness of his conduct. He believes it necessary for his survival, and therefore acts under the influence of an irresistible impulse."

  Brunelle nodded. "Irresistible impulse?"

  "Oh yes."

  "So given the opportunity, he'd do it again?"

  "Absolutely," Orbst crossed his arms. "And when he did, it would prove I'm right."

  Brunelle nodded. There was so much more he could ask, but he was done.

  "No further questions."

  "Redirect examination, Mr. Welles?"

  All eyes turned to the defense attorney. He was in a heated whisper exchange with his client. Whatever Karpati was saying, he was angry and emphatic. Welles was shaking his head and tapping the legal pad with his pen for emphasis.

  "Mr. Welles?"

  Welles stood up. "No further questions, Your Honor. Thank you. At this time the defense would suggest we adjourn until Monday. My client and I have some matters to discuss."

  The judge shrugged and looked at Brunelle and Yamata. "Any objection?"

  Brunelle looked to Yamata, but she waved her hand back to him. His call. It had been a long week. And it was a good way to leave it with the jury.

  "No objection, Your Honor."

  "Court is adjourned," the judge quickly declared. "We will reconvene Monday morning at nine."

  The clerk hit the gavel, the bailiff led out the jurors, and the guards took Karpati away. Brunelle expected a smarmy comment from Welles, but the defense attorney was busy packing his things. He avoided Brunelle's gaze.

  "That was awesome!" Yamata yanked Brunelle's face to hers. "I could kiss you right now."

  Brunelle stared at her for a second, then shook his head. "How the hell did you win a sexual harassment suit against your old firm? You're the most flirtatious lawyer I've ever had the pleasure to try a case with."

  Yamata cocked her head, then let out a belly laugh, just making her even hotter somehow. "Is that what everyone thinks? No wonder no one will talk to me. Not 'sexual harassment,' dummy. 'Sexual discrimination.' As in 'gender discrimination.' As in one of the old-boy partners got caught saying he'd never make a woman a partner. Thought he'd hung up his phone but it was on speaker. Hello, payday, and goodbye, law firm. Finally could pay off my student loans and take a kick-ass prosecutor job for half the money."

  Brunelle was stunned. That was a lot of unexpected information all at once. He latched onto the last bit. "Half?"

  Yamata laughed again, a deep purr of a laugh. "Okay, a third." Then she thought for a second and laughed again. "Hey, don't tell anybody, okay? I kinda like everyone being scared of me."

  Brunelle shrugged. "I won't tell, but Welles probably heard and I can't speak for—"

  He turned to the defense table, but Welles had slipped away without so much as a goodbye. That wasn't like him.

  Brunelle should have known it meant trouble.

  Chapter 42

  "And then he says," Brunelle swallowed his bite and pointed at Kat with his fork, "No, my opinion is based on my education, the police reports, and.... my interview of Mr. Karpati!"

  Kat nodded. "Okay, sounds reasonable."

  Brunelle shook his head. "No, no. The point is, we didn't know he'd done that interview. Defense doesn't have to share that with us. I mean, not unless they're gonna use it at trial. Welles probably should've given it to me, but I never would have known if Orbst hadn't let it slip."

  "Ah," Kat nodded. "Well, lucky break for you."

  "Luck?" Brunelle scoffed. "More like scathing cross examination."

  Kat just raised an eyebrow.

  Brunelle laughed. "Okay, yeah, luck. But I got him to admit that Karpati had confessed to the murder."

  "Wow, how did he explain that away?"

  "He said Karpati was mentally ill and driven by an irresistible impulse. He'd do it again and that just proves he's not guilty by reason of insanity."

  Kat's face scrunched into a frown. "That logic is what's crazy."

  "I know," Brunelle laughed. "And so does the jury. No way they let him out."

  Then his cell phone vibrated. He looked down at it and shrugged. "I'm gonna ignore that, I think."

  "What if it's a new homicide?" Kat questioned.

  "Then you're probably the next person they'll call," Brunelle smiled. "We'll see if your phone goes off too."

  The persistent hum of Brunelle's phone was clearly audible over the voices of the restaurant.

  "You know," Kat leaned onto the table and gestured toward the phone on his hip. "That could be fun under the right circumstances.

  Brunelle smiled. "Hmm. Not sure I can text one-handed."

  Kat's eyes twinkled. "Maybe I'll do the texting. You can watch."

  Brunelle's eyebrows shot up. "Oh my." Then he scanned the restaurant. "Time for the check, I think."

  Kat laughed. "We're still on the appetizer, Romeo. Besides, Lizzy's at the house."

  "I have an apartment," Brunelle replied. "And we can hit the drive-thru on the way back to your place."

  "Great, walk in to see my daughter, still smelling like you and french fries. Mom of the Year."

  Brunelle's phone was still buzzing, or rather buzzing again.

  Kat nodded at it. "You better answer that."

  Brunelle frowned. "Yeah, you're probably right."

  He pulled the phone from its hip holder and pressed it to his ear. "Brunelle." Then. "Hey, Michelle. What's up? Kinda busy here."

  Kat waited and watched as Brunelle's face dropped.

  Then he lowered the phone. "Karpati posted bail. He's out."

  He thought for a moment then raised a haunted gaze to Kat. "Lizzy."

  "Lizzy?" she repeated quizzically. Then her voice hardened. "What about Lizzy?"

  "He knows it was her," Brunelle explained. "That she's the one I sent into the jail. He overheard us talking after you testified."

  Kat stared at him for just a moment, then screamed, "Damn you, David Brunelle!" and ran for the door.

  Brunelle only hesitated for a second before running after her, his hand digging the car keys out of his pocket as he went.

  Chapter 43

  The front door was kicked in, the door frame splintered by the deadbolt. No young accomplice to trick the girl inside into unlocking it.

  Brunelle stepped in carefully and scanned the scene, cursing himself for never buying that gun his detective friends kept telling him he needed, handling the cases he did. "Lizzy?"

  But Kat pushed past him. "I'll check the bedrooms, you check down here." She was practically to the top of stairs by the time she finished the sentence. A second later she was out of sight around the corner.

  Brunelle stepped through the house, trying to listen for a clue as to where they might be. There had clearly been a struggle. Drawers pulled open in the kitchen. Someone looking for a knife most likely. But had it been Lizzy for defense, or Karpati for...?

  He shook his head. He needed to stop analyzing it like a crime scene.

  This wasn't Emily; it was Lizzy.

  "Mmmph!"

  Downstairs. The family room. Brunelle dashed down the st
airs and pulled up short at the landing.

  Lizzy was on her stomach, her hands tied behind her, her mouth gagged with a towel. Karpati was kneeling on her back, a steak knife in his hand and a gleam in his eye.

  "Why, hello, Mr. Brunelle. Welcome to my acquittal."

  Brunelle swallowed hard. Even if he lunged, he could never reach Karpati before he sliced Lizzy's throat.

  "Acquittal?" Brunelle said. "Looks like count two to me. Attempted Murder."

  Karpati smiled broadly. "Didn't you hear Dr. Feelgood today? A second murder proves I'm insane. I get away with murder by committing a new murder. How crazy is that?"

  When Brunelle didn't respond, Karpati laughed again. "Get it? How crazy is that? Crazy. Get it?"

  Brunelle nodded. He looked at Lizzy. Her eyes pleaded the words her mouth couldn't. Karpati's knife was less than an inch from her own carotid artery. Karpati had dispensed with the formality of the bucket. It would be enough just to kill her.

  "Look, Karpati," Brunelle raised his hands but made a point not to step toward him, lest he get spooked and slash Lizzy's throat right then and there. "This won't work. A second crime never excuses the first. We can charge them together, then they're cross-admissible. Even if we don't seek death, you're looking at twenty years mandatory minimum on each count, no good time. That's forty years. You're twenty already, so best case is you're sixty when you get out. But drop the knife and this is only an attempted murder."

  Karpati shook his head and actually pressed the knife against Lizzy's throat. She whimpered but couldn’t move away from the blade. "You're not listening, Brunelle. Murder to get away with murder." Then Karpati grinned. "And you know the best part?"

  Brunelle shook his head slowly. "No," he said. "What's the best part?"

  "You picked the victim for me," Karpati chimed. "This is the bitch you sent into the jail to trick me, right? Your girlfriend's daughter? Perfect. I mean, I would have been willing to kill any little bitch, but you— You helped me decide exactly which little bitch to filet."

  Brunelle swallowed again, this time against the bile rising in his throat. "Great."

  He decided to press on. Lizzy was still alive, that was something. "Listen, Karpati, really. You don't have to kill her. Let me explain. Dr. Feelgood said it was an irresistible urge. You being here proves that, right? So you don't actually have to kill her. I stopped you. The end. Attempted murder is as good as actual murder for that."

  Karpati nodded. "Okay, yeah. I see what you mean. Sure." He nodded some more and looked down at the helpless girl he was straddling. "There's just one problem."

  "What's that?"

  "I want to kill her." A rough laugh and another wide-eyed grin. "Say goodbye to your step-daughter, Brunelle."

  Two gunshots echoed off the walls. Karpati flew backwards off of Lizzy and Kat stepped out from behind Brunelle, a wisp of smoke trailing up from the muzzle of her .45 semi-auto.

  "God, you lawyers talk a lot."

  She stepped over and untied her daughter, who clasped her, sobbing.

  Brunelle stepped over to Karpati. One shot to the chest. Potentially survivable. The one that removed the top of his head, not so much.

  "Huh." Brunelle shoved his hands in pockets. He looked over to Kat and Lizzy, still embracing, then back at what was left of Arpad Karpati. "I guess I won't be giving that closing argument on Monday after all."

  Epilogue

  "Holly pled guilty, huh?"

  Chen was sprawled out in one of Brunelle's office chairs, gazing out the window at the sun setting over Elliot Bay.

  "Yep," Brunelle confirmed. "As soon as she heard Karpati was dead, she insisted on pleading. We actually reduced the charge to conspiracy to commit murder. Saved her some time."

  Chen turned back to Brunelle. "Why'd you do that?"

  Brunelle shrugged. "She was a victim too. No way she participates in that murder without Karpati controlling her. She seemed truly remorseful. In fact, she could barely get through the guilty plea because she was sobbing so hard."

  Chen nodded. "Well, that's probably a good thing."

  Brunelle returned the nod. "Yeah, she'll have to live with Emily's death for the rest of her life. There's more than one type of punishment."

  Chen frowned thoughtfully. "You think so?"

  Just then, there was a rap on Brunelle's door frame. It was Kat, dressed for a night on the town. "Ready for the ballet, David?"

  "Ballet?" Chen laughed.

  Brunelle shrugged. "I rest my case."

  THE END

  The following is an excerpt from the next David Brunelle legal thriller

  TRIBAL COURT

  A man is murdered in Seattle's Pioneer Square. The killer is caught just blocks away, blood still on his hands. When it's discovered that both killer and victim belong to the same Native American tribe, the tribe asserts jurisdiction and homicide D.A. Dave Brunelle has to prosecute the case in their Tribal Court. It's bad enough when the defense attorney claims the killing was justified under the ancient custom of "blood revenge." It gets worse when blood revenge turns into a blood feud. The bodies start piling up and it looks like Brunelle may be next. Can he stay alive long enough to win the case?

  Chapter 1

  "Don't you hate it when the victim kinda deserved it?"

  Seattle Police detective Larry Chen crossed his thick arms under his police-issue raincoat and looked to his friend for a reply. Dave Brunelle, King County homicide prosecutor, didn't look up from the dead body splayed at their feet. Instead he nodded and pushed his hands deeper into his own raincoat—thrown on at one in the morning when he got Chen's call.

  "Just try not to say that on the stand," he said.

  The murder victim was a man, late forties, overweight, and most definitely dead. His blood glistened black in the cracks between the cobblestones of Founder's Park in Seattle's Pioneer Square district. He was on his back, arms sprawled, shirt cut away by the same paramedics who left behind the adhesive chest pads they'd used to attempt resuscitation despite the multiple stab wounds to his chest. The rain was coating his face in droplets that trickled into his ear and the folds of his neck. He lay at the base of the plaza's 56-foot totem pole, like an offering to the spirits represented in the carvings, their faces made all the more grotesque by the forensic team's floodlights and the red and blue strobe of the cop cars clogging the narrow streets surrounding the square.

  "So why did he deserve it?" Brunelle asked, more concerned with the potential jury nullification issues than the justness of the man's death. "Was it self defense?"

  "No," Chen was quick to answer. "Witnesses said there was an argument, but nothing physical until the killer pulled out the knife and stuck it into our guy's chest."

  Chen extracted his notebook from his damp pocket. "It's not what he did. It's who he was."

  Brunelle finally looked up from the corpse. "Who was he?"

  "George Traver," Chen read from the latest page of his running notebook. "Child molester. Registered sex offender. Failed to update his registration six months ago. Last known address was a trailer down near Tacoma. Had a warrant out for that, plus two more for shoplifting and drunk in public."

  "Ah," replied Brunelle, wiping some rain from his nose. "Still, not exactly worthy of a knife in the chest."

  "He was the suspect in two more child luring and indecent exposure cases."

  "Okay," Brunelle agreed. "That might do it. Kind of a community service killing, huh?"

  "Exactly," Chen confirmed.

  Brunelle peered around the plaza. It was almost closing time. Intoxicated gawkers stumbled past the crime scene tape trying to get a glimpse of what lay at the base of the totem pole. "So where was he living?"

  "He was homeless," Chen answered. "Sleeping on benches downtown mostly."

  "Probably why he didn't register," Brunelle observed.

  "Probably," Chen agreed, "although they're allowed to register as 'homeless.'"

  Brunelle frowned. "I always thought that w
as stupid. It kind of defeats the purpose"

  "Sure does."

  "So, who's our suspect?" Brunelle asked. He needed a suspect before he could get involved. Unsolved would mean no defendant to charge. "Another homeless guy?"

  "Nope, the homeless guys liked him," Chen answered. "I sent two patrol guys to interview some of them. Most scattered, but the few who stayed said ol' George here was a great guy. Salt of the earth."

  "I'm sure," Brunelle scoffed. "What's the suspect description?"

  Chen looked down at his notepad. "Male, twenty-something, Hispanic or Native."

  "Wow, not very helpful," Brunelle observed. "That describes about twenty-five percent of the people in Pioneer Square tonight."

  "Maybe," Chen shrugged, "if you include Hispanics. But if you limit it to Natives, then it's probably one, maybe two percent."

  It was Brunelle's turn to shrug. "And if we reduce it to Native men with one testicle and a prosthetic elbow, we can really start to narrow it down."

  Chen cocked his head at his friend. "One testicle?"

  Brunelle threw up his hands. "I'm just saying, you can always narrow it down. Why would you limit the description just to Natives if the witnesses said Native or Hispanic?"

  Chen looked down at the lifeless body before them. "Our victim is Native."

  Brunelle pursed his lips. "I don't see why that matters. It's not like murder stays in one race. If somebody killed you, I wouldn't assume the murderer was Chinese."

  Chen smirked. "You should. If I wind up murdered, you can be pretty sure it was my wife."

  "Oh yeah?" Brunelle laughed.

  "Yeah," Chen laughed too, but it faded and he shoved his hands in his pockets. He pushed a foot out toward the dead man splayed out at the base of the totem pole. "You gotta know someone to hate them enough to kill them."

  A set of fingernails dug into Brunelle's back. "Hey there, Mr. Brunelle," came a sweet female voice from behind him. Assistant Medical Examiner Kat Anderson had arrived. She pulled her nails down the length of Brunelle's back as she walked past him. "Long time, no call."