DB01 - Presumption of Innocence

by Stephen Penner

  “You know… There is one thing we could do,” she said. “But we would never do it without your permission.”

  “What is it?” Mr. Montgomery spun from the window.

  Yamata looked to Brunelle to explain. He was nodding and tapping his lips. “Well, like I said, the girl isn’t facing much anyway. If we cut her some kind of deal. Some sort of reduction. Nothing too big. But on the condition she testify. Well, I suppose, we wouldn’t lose all that much on her, since she wasn’t facing much anyway. But then we’d have the best damn witness we could against the twenty-year-old.”

  The Montgomerys just stared at him.

  “If we did that, we could get him.” Then Brunelle drove the point home, “And we can kill him.”

  “Do it,” said Mr. Montgomery. “Do whatever you have to do in order to hold that bastard fully responsible for Emily’s murder.”

  Brunelle looked at the mother. “Mrs. Montgomery?”

  She stared down for several moments. Then her shoulders dropped and she looked away. “Yes. Do it. Do whatever you have to do.”

  Chapter 12

  “All rise!” The judicial assistant banged the gavel as Judge Caruthers took the bench. “The King County Superior Court, Juvenile Division is now in session.”

  The judge nodded and Brunelle and Yamata took their seats at the prosecutor’s table. Edwards sat opposite them at the defense table.

  “Are the parties ready on the matter of the State of Washington versus Holly Sandholm?” the judge asked even as he fiddled with the computer monitor on the bench.

  “Yes, Your Honor,” Brunelle answered.

  “I believe so,” Edwards responded.

  “And this is a plea to amended charges, is that right?” asked the judge.

  “Yes, Your Honor,” Brunelle stood up to explain. “The State is amending the charges to residential burglary, in exchange for which, Ms. Sandholm is agreeing to plead guilty to the amended charge.”

  “Have you gone over the guilty plea form with your client, Ms. Edwards?” Judge Caruthers asked.

  “I have, Your Honor,” Edwards answered. “I am confident she understands it.”

  The judge looked over to the guards. “Bring in Ms. Sandholm.”

  The guards unlocked the door and yelled, “Sandholm!” into the holding area. After a moment, Holly stepped through the door and sat down next to her lawyer.

  Brunelle was struck by how much better she looked than that day in the interview room. She had put on at least five pounds and was clean. Even in the jail jammies, she was definitely in better shape than on the outside.

  Brunelle saw Sandholm whisper something into Edwards’ ear and noticed Edwards’ eyebrows shoot up.

  Edwards raised a hand toward the bench. “Uh, may I have a moment to speak with my client, Your Honor?”

  “Of course, counsel,” Judge Caruthers replied without looking away from his computer, his mouse clicking periodically. The rumor in the courthouse was he played solitaire all day while just ratifying whatever the attorneys had agreed to. Not that that was necessarily a bad thing. Sometimes it’s good to know a judge won’t go sideways on a plea bargain. But Brunelle wasn’t worried about the judge going sideways.

  “Is there a problem, Jess?” he whispered to Edwards. Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery were in the gallery behind him.

  Edwards didn’t reply audibly, but waved him away while she was whispering with Holly.

  Brunelle looked at Yamata and shrugged. She shrugged back. They waited, Brunelle’s anxiety rising with each second. Finally, Edwards nodded at Holly, then stood up to address the judge.

  “My client has changed her mind, Your Honor,” she announced. “She does not want to plead guilty.”

  Brunelle heard the outraged “What?” from Mr. Montgomery behind him. Mrs. Montgomery said something too, but he couldn’t quite make it out. It wasn’t anything good though, he knew. Brunelle stood up as well. “May I have a moment to speak to counsel, Your Honor?”

  “Of course,” replied the judge. Brunelle wondered if he’d gotten all the aces yet.

  “What the hell’s going on, Jess?” he whispered to his counterpart.

  “She changed her mind, Dave,” Edwards whispered back. “She doesn’t want to plead.”

  Brunelle clenched her jaw. “Is she holding out for the rendering criminal assistance charge? You told me she’d plead to burglary.”

  “No, she’s not holding out. I specifically asked her that, and she said she wouldn’t plead to anything.”

  Brunelle tapped his hand on his leg. “Tell her I’ll give her the damn rendering, Jess. I need her to plead.”

  “I know, but she doesn’t want it. I’m telling you. Something changed since I talked to her yesterday. She was totally on board with the burglary and testifying. Now all she’ll say is ‘I’m not pleading and I’m not testifying.’”

  “Counsel?” the judge finally turned from his computer. Must have run out of moves. “Where are we?”

  “We need to strike the plea,” Edwards answered.

  Brunelle narrowed his eyes. “And schedule a motion to transfer the case to adult court.”

  “Come on, Dave,” Edwards whispered. “Give me a chance to work on her.”

  “Fuck her, Jess,” Brunelle whispered back. “She doesn’t want to testify against him, then she can sit next to him. I may not be able to have her executed, but she can spend the next three decades in prison.”

  ***

  “What the hell was that?” Brunelle demanded of Edwards once they were in the conference room between the courtroom and the hallway. The hallway where he knew the Montgomerys were waiting to yell at him.

  Edwards shrugged. “I told you. She doesn’t want any deals any more. She said she doesn’t even care if the case is transferred to adult court.”

  “Did you tell her she’ll die in prison?”

  “Oh yeah, she gets that.”

  “Well, good,” Yamata chimed in. “She deserves it anyway for what she did.”

  Brunelle winced. This was about negotiations and trying to get to the best possible result. It was also about long term professional relationships with defense attorneys you see again and again and again. It might also be about someone getting what they deserve, but you don’t say that out loud. Not to Jessica Edwards anyway.

  “What she deserves?” Edwards snapped. “A fifteen year-old-girl who was raped and controlled by a twenty-year-old man doesn’t deserve to spend her entire life in prison.”

  “A fifteen-year-old girl,” Yamata shot back, “who knocked on Emily Montgomery’s door knowing what that twenty-year-old man was gonna do to her? Who staked out the place and waited for her parents to leave? Who made the entire damn thing possible? Who didn’t come forward until she was arrested and even then hesitated to tell the truth? Yeah, she deserves to die in prison. She deserves worse.”

  Edwards’ face was turning red. But before she could respond, Yamata finished with, “Tell me what Emily Montgomery deserved?”

  Edwards glared at Brunelle, who just offered a pained smile and a shrug.

  “You just lost any chance at a deal, Dave,” Edwards hissed. “See you at the transfer hearing.”

  Edwards stormed out of the conference room, slamming the door behind her.

  “What a bitch,” Yamata growled.

  Brunelle shook his head. “Naw, Jessica’s all right. She’s just a true believer.”

  Yamata cocked her head. “A what?”

  “Jess thinks everybody is basically good and sometimes people make mistakes. She thinks cops lie and prosecutors only care about winning. Every one of her clients is being treated unfairly and it’s her job to protect them from the powerful government that’s trying to put them away for something they didn’t really do.”

  Yamata’s jaw dropped. “Does she really believe that?”

  “I think so,” Brunelle nodded. “Being a criminal defense attorney is a tough job. Defending people who’ve committed crimes takes a spec
ial mindset. A lot of people can’t look themselves in the mirror. It’s worse if you’re a public defender. If you’re a private attorney and some psychopath comes into your office, you can always say no. But Edwards gets a file on her desk and she has to represent that psychopath. And worse yet, the psychopath thinks she sucks because she’s a ‘public pretender,’ even though she’s probably tried twice as many cases as your typical private defense attorney.”

  Brunelle smiled as Yamata processed the information.

  “Just don’t bring up the victim,” Brunelle smiled. “She hates being reminded there’s a victim.”

  “But that’s the whole point of criminal law,” Yamata argued, “to vindicate the victim.”

  “Maybe,” Brunelle shrugged. “But you have to know when to bring it up with her. It tends to piss her off.”

  Yamata crossed her arms. “I can see that.”

  “So bring it up just before her closing argument,” Brunelle winked. “Totally fucks with her.”

  Yamata laughed out loud. “Oh, Mr. Brunelle, I like that.”

  Brunelle smirked. “I thought you might. And remember, it’s Dave.”

  “Right. Dave.” She saluted and offered a fabulous smile. “Don’t want you to feel old when you’re around me.”

  Brunelle wasn’t sure what to say, so he changed the subject. “Come on, let’s go get yelled at by the parents.”

  ***

  “What just happened?” Mr. Montgomery demanded as soon as they stepped into the hallway.

  “Change in plans,” Brunelle smiled. “But nothing we can’t deal with.”

  “I thought you said you needed her?” Mrs. Montgomery pointed out.

  “I did,” Brunelle conceded, “but part of my job—part of our job,” he gestured to Yamata, “is to be prepared for any contingency and move forward with the prosecution.”

  “Can you do that?” Mr. Montgomery questioned.

  “Definitely,” Brunelle asserted, although he wasn’t really sure how. Then he realized something. “Although not the rape of a child count. That will have to be dismissed without Holly’s testimony.”

  Mr. Montgomery shrugged. “Well, it hardly matters if he gets a death sentence. The jury will still hear about the sick pervert, right?”

  Brunelle shook his head. “I’m afraid not. Too prejudicial.”

  “But it’s the truth,” Mrs. Montgomery protested.

  “I wish this were about the truth,” Yamata said, “but it’s about evidence. If we get too close to the child rape allegation, it could result in a mistrial.”

  “Followed by a motion to dismiss,” Brunelle agreed, “for governmental misconduct. We’ll paint the picture. The jury should be able to connect the dots.”

  Mr. Montgomery looked at his wife, then back at the attorneys. “Well, I don’t really give a damn right now about what happened to Holly What’s-her-name. I care what happened to Emily. You’re sure the murder prosecution can go forward without her?”

  “I’m sure,” Brunelle lied.

  “Then that’s good enough for us,” Mr. Montgomery announced.

  “I do have a question,” Mrs. Montgomery said. “Do you know why she changed her mind?”

  “I don’t know,” Brunelle answered, “but I have a guess.”

  “What’s your guess?”

  “Karpati.”

  Chapter 13

  Brunelle and Yamata retreated to Brunelle’s office to regroup.

  “Now what?” Yamata asked, dropping her athletic frame into one of his guest chairs.

  Brunelle picked up the phone. “Now we order Holly’s jail calls. Somebody got to her.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because this is suicide,” Brunelle answered as he punched the extension for the jail communications officer. “She gave a full confession to a heinous murder. No way she doesn’t get convicted. And no way she doesn’t get life. It’s mandatory.”

  “Any chance she doesn’t get transferred to adult court,” Yamata asked, “since the penalty is so severe?”

  Brunelle frowned. That was a good point. Luckily the jail officer picked up. “Yeah, this is Dave Brunelle from the prosecutor’s office. I need to order some jail recordings.”

  When Brunelle hung up, he had ordered all calls coming into Holly’s dorm and all calls going out of Karpati’s holding tank. They were supposed to have individual caller identification codes, but inmates were always using somebody else’s code to try to be sneaky. It still amazed Brunelle how freely people would talk even after hearing the automated ‘This call will be recorded’ warning.

  “It’ll take them a couple days to get us the recordings,” Brunelle informed his co-counsel, “but we should have them before the transfer hearing.”

  “What about tomorrow’s bail hearing?” Yamata asked. “We won’t be able to tell the judge that Holly’s on board to testify.”

  Brunelle smiled. “Then I hope you do a good job arguing that brief you wrote.”

  Yamata slumped back in her chair. “Great.”

  Brunelle’s phone rang and he picked it up without even looking at the caller I.D. “Prosecutor’s office. Dave Brunelle.”

  “Hello, prosecutor’s-office-Dave-Brunelle,” sang the voice on the phone. “This is medical-examiner’s-office-Kat-Anderson. Can you talk?”

  Brunelle smiled. “For you? Of course.”

  Yamata leaned forward. “Do you want me to leave?” she whispered.

  Brunelle shook his head. He figured it was business. He was wrong.

  “So about Friday night,” Kat went on, “I have an idea.”

  Brunelle drew a blank, still in work mode. “Friday night?”

  “My daughter’s recital, remember?”

  “Ah yes. Right. Recital.” Brunelle laughed. “I was trying to forget the pain from you turning down my asking you out for that night.”

  Yamata stood up. “I’m gonna go now,” she whispered again.

  This time Brunelle nodded. “I’ll stop by later,” he whispered over the covered-up telephone receiver. “We can figure out how to tackle tomorrow.”

  “Is this a bad time?” Kat asked.

  “Hmm? Oh, no. Never a bad time for you, ma’am.”

  “Ma’am?” Kat laughed. “You’re way older than me.”

  Brunelle frowned. “I am not way older than you.”

  “I didn’t say too old,” Kat purred.

  Brunelle could feel himself blush a little, and was glad Yamata had excused herself.

  “So I have a solution,” Kat went on.

  “To what?” Brunelle wondered if she was back talking about the case.

  “To you being crushed by my remorseless rejection of you.”

  “Great,” Brunelle chuckled. “I’m all for not being remorselessly rejected.”

  “Good,” said Kat. “The recital starts at seven. Meet me in the lobby at quarter till.”

  “Uhhh,” Brunelle stammered. “Recital? Your daughter’s ballet recital?”

  “No, my dog’s violin recital,” Kat huffed. “Of course. It’s at the Roosevelt High School performing arts center on sixty-fifth. I have to drop her off by six-thirty, so I’ll meet you in the lobby at six-forty-five.”

  Brunelle hesitated, then was smart enough to say, “Uh, okay. Sounds great. Uh, what should I wear?”

  “Just come straight from work,” Kat said. “Wear your suit. Lizzy will be impressed.”

  “Your daughter?”

  “You are on top of it today, David,” Kat teased. “Yes. And if she likes you, maybe you can get ice cream with us afterwards.”

  “Ballet and ice cream,” Brunelle repeated. “Two of my favorite things.”

  Kat laughed. “You are so full of it.”

  Brunelle laughed too. “Well, I like ice cream.”

  Chapter 14

  “I understand you were unable to secure the cooperation of Miss Sandholm.” Welles’ smirk to his seated and handcuffed client confirmed for Brunelle that Karpati was respon
sible for convincing the girl not to turn State’s evidence.

  Brunelle smiled. “I just wanted your guy to have some company during the trial.”

  “I can’t imagine you could try them together,” Welles replied, “since you’ve charged him with raping her.”

  “Imagine me dumping that charge,” Brunelle replied just as Judge Quinn took the bench,

  “All rise!”

  Judge Quinn instructed everyone to be seated and asked whether the parties were ready for the bail hearing.

  “Absolutely, Your Honor,” gushed Welles.

  Brunelle didn’t say anything. He looked to Yamata seated next to him. She didn’t say anything either, so he nudged her.

  “Uh, y— yes, Your Honor,” Yamata stood up. “The State is ready.”

  Judge Quinn raised her eyebrow. “Will you be arguing this, Miss…?”

  “Yamata. Michelle Yamata. And yes, I wrote the brief, and I’ll be arguing it.”

  Brunelle heard Welles chuckle and saw him whisper something to his client. Karpati smiled as he leered at Yamata.

  “Very well,” Judge Quinn said. “Let’s start with the State then. Tell me what you want me to do, and why I should do it.”

  “May I interrupt?” Wells shot to his feet. “I believe there is some additional information of which the court ought to be informed before the State begins its argument.”

  Yamata scowled at him, but waited for the judge to say who could speak.

  “What is it, Mr. Welles?”

  “As you undoubtedly recall, Your Honor,” Welles rolled a hand for emphasis, “the State placed great reliance on their ability to persuade a young lady, whom they have charged with this murder, to agree to testify against my client. It is my understanding that this girl has declined offers to so testify, and therefore the representations made at the previous hearing by Mr. Brunelle were demonstrably false. I would ask the court not only to refuse to hear any motion for reconsideration of bail, but further to sanction Mr. Brunelle and the prosecutor’s office for misleading the tribunal and wasting my time. My fees and costs for being here today total over one thousand dollars. That is the minimum the court should impose on the prosecution. Thank you.”