Justice Denied - A Harper Ross Legal Thriller

by Rachel Sinclair

  “Hey,” she said, picking me up at my house. “I wanted to give you this. For luck and strength.” She handed me a crystal and I held it in my hand. I wanted to believe that the crystal had some kind of magical powers, but I just couldn’t. My brain was always too logical to believe things like that. Nevertheless, I clutched it tightly and smiled at her.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. This crystal has been blessed by a very powerful psychic. I’ve also been lighting candles for you every night. I’m telling you, I’m worried about you, sis. Everybody is.”

  I sighed and felt tears coming to my eyes. I didn’t tell Albany about representing Michael. She probably would have brained me. She didn’t know that I had been raped. I didn’t tell her or anybody else, because I didn’t want to deal with my family nagging me to go to the cops. There wasn’t any way that I was going to do that, so I just kept quiet.

  “What does this crystal represent?”

  “Strength and luck, just like I told you. When you hold it in your hand, your holding the power of Mischka Wilson, who is my own personal psychic. You might laugh, but she’s told me things that came true, right on the money. She’s the real deal.”

  “I’m not laughing.”

  “You’re holding it in, I can tell.”

  She was right about that. I wanted to laugh out loud, but I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, so I had to stifle it. “No, I’m not.”

  “Yes you are, but that’s okay.” She reached her hand towards mine. “I’m glad you’re getting back to your therapy. I think that it did you good before. I’m a firm believer that everybody should have regular therapy if they can afford it.”

  “Me too. Especially people in my profession. I admit, it takes a lot out of me.”

  She nodded. “How is your new murder case going?”

  I swallowed hard, wanting to tell her the truth, but holding back. “It’s going fine, I guess. I’m doing some of the preliminary investigatory work, as the cops aren’t investigating anymore. They were under a lot of pressure to make a quick arrest, so they arrested my client. I don’t believe that he did it, though.”

  “Well, even if he did do it, you’re still going to go balls to walls to represent him, as you always do. No judgments, but how do you do that, sis, and look at yourself in the mirror every night?”

  Good question. “No judgment? That sounds like a judgmental question to me.”

  She shrugged. “It’s not meant to be, but I can never understand representing guilty people. Plead them out, get them off the streets, but don’t try to walk them.”

  I looked out the window, thinking of John Robinson and Gina and the two girls. I shuddered a little. “Maybe I’ll plead this one out if I find out he did it.”

  She headed to the parking lot of my therapist’s building and parked the car. “Let’s go,” she said. “I’ll be waiting for you in the waiting room when you get out of there. I have a feeling that you’re going to have a lot to say to your therapist. I don’t know why I have that feeling, but I do.”

  We went up the elevator and we found the door to my therapist. Her name was Dr. Teresa Rosen. She was a 30ish woman who dressed modestly in sweaters and slacks, and usually wore her blonde hair up in tight bun. She was attractive and fit and extremely easy to talk to.

  “Harper,” she said, coming out of her office and giving me a hug. “I haven’t seen you in so long. I’m very happy that you’re back, though. I actually was thinking about you before you called for an appointment. I see your name in the papers from time to time, and I’ve always wondered how you’ve been holding up.”

  I hugged her back. “Are you ready for me?” I asked her.

  “I am. Hello, Albany,” she said, giving Albany a hug as well. “It’s very nice to see you, too. It’s always good for my clients to have a support system.”

  I followed Dr. Rosen back to her office. She went over to her fish tank, which sported all manner of saltwater fish, and put a pinch of food into it.

  I was always fascinated with her fish tank, because she kept some of the most beautiful fish I had ever seen. There were enormous fish that were blue with bright yellow fins, and coral reefs swaying in the water. There were vibrant clown fish, with their distinctive orange and white patterns, and delicate sea horses which bobbled alongside fish that were brilliantly striped.

  I watched the fish, mesmerized, while Dr. Rosen sat down behind her desk. “You always did like watching the fish,” she said with a smile. “I bought some new ones since you were here last.”

  I nodded. “I worked in a pet store when I was 16, and the saltwater fish always fascinated me. But I know how hard it is to maintain this tank, so hats off to you.”

  She smiled. “It is a challenge, but once you get the hang of it, it’s not so bad.” She hesitated. “But I know that you didn’t come here to talk about the fish.”

  I sighed and hung my head. I was embarrassed to admit to her what was on my mind, even though I knew that I needed to tell her all about it. I needed to have somebody help me try to puzzle out what I was doing with Michael’s case. It certainly wasn’t coming to me.

  “No,” I said, “I didn’t come here to talk about the fish. But the fish certainly are a nice bonus.”

  “Of course.” She nodded her head. “Now, Harper, why don’t you tell me why you made this appointment. It’s been years since we last met. There must be something on your mind.”

  I nodded my head and swallowed hard. The words just weren’t coming to me, for whatever reason. I leaned back on the sofa and crossed my arms. My breathing was labored, and I felt like I was on the verge of tears. I guessed that telling Dr. Rosen what was on my mind was more difficult than I had ever imagined.

  “Um,” I began. I picked up the paperweight that was on the coffee table in front of me and I examined it. “I’m having problems processing a case. I’m…” I trailed off. Would she judge me for taking Michael on as a client? Would she judge me if I told her that I really wanted to sink him and make sure he ended up behind bars? She couldn’t go to the Missouri Bar and tell them the truth about my motivations on this case, because of professional confidentiality, so I didn’t have to worry that I could get into professional trouble for telling her the truth. Yet, I was having difficulties admitting it. I really had difficulties admitting failings to anyone, so how could I tell her that I was trying to deliberately fail on this case?

  “Go on,” she said. “You have a case that you’re working on, and you’re having problems processing it because…”

  I swallowed hard again and tried to control my shaking. “I’m having problems processing it because the defendant is Michael Reynolds.”

  She nodded her head. “I see. The man who raped you in the fraternity house.” Her face was impassive, which drove me crazy, because I couldn’t tell what she was thinking. She had quite a poker face. I didn’t like that.

  “Yes. The man who raped me in the fraternity house.”

  She leaned back and made notes. “Tell me about the case. What is he charged with?”

  “He’s charged with murdering his father-in-law, who also happens to be a judge.”

  “Yes,” she said. “Now I remember reading about this case in the paper. He came to you to ask you defend him. Why do you suppose that he would choose you for that?”

  I shrugged. “I’ve pondered that question myself. I don’t really know. He said it was because of my reputation and the fact that I’ve been able to win some impossible cases. I guess that’s true, because I have won some cases that seemed unwinnable at the outset.”

  “Well, I’m certain that’s true, but let’s try to unwind what you’re really thinking about why he would have chosen you, out of all the attorneys in the city, to represent him.”

  That was actually a question that I hadn’t really considered. I just took it on face value that he chose me because he felt that I was the best person for the job. “I don’t really know. Maybe he chose me because he
unconsciously wanted to make amends. He says that he does. Want to make amends, that is.”

  “Do you believe that?”

  “No. I don’t believe that.”

  “Then why do you believe that he chose you because he wants to make amends?”

  I shrugged. “I guess that was just the first answer that popped into my head. It’s probably wrong, though.”

  She made some more notes. “What are some other possibilities?”

  I pursed my lips and shook my head. “I don’t really know.”

  She nodded her head. “Well, let’s move on. I suspect that you’re really here because you’re questioning why you would take the case. I am correct about that?”

  “Yes,” I said. “That’s exactly why.”

  “Tell me your thoughts on it, and then I’ll give you my theory.”

  I took a deep breath. “I want him to fry. I desperately want him to go down in flames. I’m afraid that if a different attorney took his case, he’ll get away with killing the judge. If he’s guilty of the crime, I want to make sure that he doesn’t get out of it.”

  She nodded her head. “But only if he’s guilty of the crime? What if he’s not guilty of the crime? How will you feel when you secure his freedom? And how will you know for sure that he is guilty or not guilty? That question can never be known beyond a shadow of a doubt, unless the person actually confesses to you. How are you untangling those questions in your head?”

  I looked out the window. “I want him to be guilty,” I said softly. “So I can make sure he gets the justice that is coming to him. I want him to die in prison.” I hung my head. “I’m his attorney and I want him to die in prison. I’m having a hard time squaring that desire with the ethics that I practice under and with the oath that I took when I was sworn into the Missouri Bar. I know that I’m bound to represent him zealously, no matter if he’s guilty or not, but, in truth, I’m trying to find a way to make sure he goes to prison for life.”

  Dr. Rosen was correct about one thing – I never would know if Michael was guilty or not guilty. I could only find evidence that would point one way or another, but, unless he came right out and told me he did it, it would be impossible to prove with 100% certainty. Juries convicted on the preponderance of the evidence, which means that the evidence would show, beyond a reasonable doubt, that the person did the crime. The term reasonable doubt, however, didn’t mean 100% certainty. It simply meant that the evidence showed that the defendant most likely committed the crime.

  She cleared her throat. “Here is my suspicion on why you took this case. I believe that you took it because seeing justice given to Michael will help you finally move on. I know that what he did to you has led to some deep-seated issues that you and I have tried to work through, but, as of yet, we have not been successful in working through them together. When you stopped our therapy before, you told me it was because you felt that you weren’t making progress. I wonder if you took this case so that you could get closure on your feelings about the rape.”

  “Yes,” I said. “I think that you’re right about that.”

  “I am worried, however, about what will happen if he is found not guilty. I worry that such an outcome will cause you to regress even further.”

  I sighed. “I’ve considered that possibility.”

  She nodded her head. “You might consider that you might have to withdraw from his case,” she said. “For the sake of your mental health. You’re gambling that the outcome isn’t going to be the outcome that you want. I think that you need to think about the possibility that you will never see that Michael has the justice that you want for him.”

  I bowed my head and felt hot tears coming down my cheeks. “I know,” I said softly. “And I might never have a decent relationship. I still can’t bring myself to even think about being intimate with a man. I have a man now, a man who says that he loves me and will wait for me, but he won’t wait forever. I’m afraid that if Michael is found not guilty and he walks away, I might never get to the point where I can be free. Where I can feel safe. Where I can feel that the unjust will be punished.”

  She nodded her head. “And how do you feel knowing that, in your past, you have defended guilty people and that some of them have gone free? How does that fit into that dynamic?”

  I blinked my eyes, seeing that she was getting at the crux of the matter. She was stabbing at the heart of why I was feeling so loathsome about myself. I was raped and my rapist was still walking around free. Nothing happened to him – in fact, he apparently went on to rape multiple other women. Yet I defended criminals. I celebrated when I got a not guilty verdict for them, even if the person was actually guilty. I liked to think that most of my clients who went free through my efforts were actually innocent, but I knew that wasn’t always the case. John Robinson was one example, but I was sure that there were others.

  I was willfully blind and I had to be to do my job. I had to always imagine, no matter how much my gut was telling me otherwise, that my client was innocent. Factually innocent. If I didn’t do that, if I didn’t tell myself that, then I couldn’t do what I did. I couldn’t put all my effort into somebody who I knew to be guilty, even though I needed to do just that. I was ethically bound to do just that.

  Was I a whore? I went to the highest bidder and took cases in a mercenary fashion – if they could pay my bill, I gave them representation, come Hell or high water.

  John Robinson was the one exception to my willful blindness notion. I knew him to be guilty, and I gave him my all. And look what happened there. He murdered Gina Caldwell, and now her girls were in my custody. I was going to adopt Gina’s girls, and I loved them, but they really needed to be with their mother. They couldn’t be, because I did my job too damned well.

  “I don’t defend rapists,” I said, knowing that was a weak excuse. No, I didn’t defend rapists, but I defended murderers, arsonists and people charged with assault. I defended people who got behind the wheel, blind drunk, and killed multiple people with their car. I defended drug dealers who dealt drugs to children. I defended all manner of loathsome scumbags, and I did it all without really examining why. Why I would be so willing to be a part of these people being returned to the streets?

  She nodded. “Michael is a proxy. Have you ever thought about that possibility?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You were victimized by Michael. You’re in a profession where you defend people who have hurt others, as Michael hurt you. I wonder if you want to make sure that Michael gets a long prison sentence not just because you want to see justice done in his case, but also because you secretly feel guilty for all the other clients you have managed to set free. Clients who you suspect, if not known for sure, were guilty of the crimes for which they were charged. In that way, Michael is a proxy for all the other clients who you have managed to set free.”

  I pondered her words. They made sense. Maybe she had a point. Maybe I secretly felt shame for working so hard to set criminals free, so I put all my shame onto Michael. Let Michael pay for what he did, and maybe I could assuage my guilt for all those other clients who went on to walk the streets after I took their case and secured not guilty verdicts for them.

  “Maybe,” I said.

  She nodded her head. “Again, I want you to imagine how you are going to feel if Michael goes free and you’re a part of the reason why. If he goes free and then goes on to hurt somebody else, as he hurt you. How will you feel if that happens?”

  I felt a knot in my chest as I thought about that possibility. It was a cold knot, bound up in fear and loathing and anger. My heart started to pound and I felt nauseated.

  I finally took a deep breath and looked Dr. Rosen directly in the eye. “I will feel like Hell, but I’ll really feel like Hell if I withdraw from the case and find out that another lawyer makes sure that he walks free. I think that this case is better in my hands.”

  She nodded. “It sounds like you have your mind made up.”

  “I
do. But you’re right. I will be devastated if he walks free.”

  We talked for the rest of the hour about what had been going on in my life. I told her about John Robinson and the girls and how I felt about all of that. I never got over what had happened there, although I was somewhat mollified by the fact that I had the girls at my house. I would rather that Gina be alive, however. I was quite sure that the girls felt the same.

  After our session was over, I walked out of the office feeling slightly better, but only slightly. I was still going to walk into the lion’s den and represent the scumbag Michael. I was playing with fire. I knew that.

  But if it all worked out, it might be the first step to freeing me.

  Thirteen

  The next day was the day of the autopsy. I was down at the Medical Examiner’s Office, as was the prosecutor in the case. April Todd was an experienced prosecutor with 20 years under her belt, but I had felt, and so did many others, that she was rapidly burning out. That worried me. I needed her on the top of her game if I was going to make sure that Michael got his just desserts.

  “Okay, Harper,” she said, joining me by sitting next to me on the chairs just outside the ME office. “Why don’t we exchange some dates on when we can get our discovery into one another. I just got a notice from the trial court, and this trial is set for February 10 of next year. I would like to close discovery by January 15. Would you be able to do that as well?”

  “I would. Do you have an offer on this case?”

  She shook her head. “I haven’t been authorized to give an offer just yet. As of now, my boss isn’t backing off asking for the death penalty. She might never back off that, either. Unfortunately, Judge Sanders was a close friend of hers, so I think that she’s taking it personally. Looks like we’re going to try this thing no matter what.”

  I sighed. I was hoping for a plea bargain. One that was decent, which meant that I had the possibility of talking Michael into taking it. I certainly didn’t anticipate that there wouldn’t be any plea bargain possibility at all. “That’s rather unprofessional, isn’t it? That your boss won’t authorize you giving a plea offer on this case just because she was friends with the victim?”