As promised, whatever reward comes in will be split up between everyone. Being the brains of our coalition forces, our firm will take the usual lawyer’s thirty percent and the rest will be divided evenly between everyone else. According to the newspapers, the robbery gang averaged almost three hundred thousand from each of the five jobs, making the total somewhere in the neighborhood of a million and a half. If the reward is ten percent, our group will be cutting up one hundred fifty thousand, and my third should get me the yellow Hummer that Budget Renta-Car is now trying to get rid of.
We turn on the evening news and see ourselves on camera. The story is not only on the local news, it makes the network broadcasts too. The wonderful saga about a group of civilians helping the FBI break up a bank robbery gang is just too juicy an item for them to ignore. And we see that my strategy paid off. Whenever Agent Snell is interviewed, he’s always asked about the contribution that the concerned citizens made to help him break the case and true to my plan, he answers “Yes, they did a fine job of surveillance and putting things together for us
– things that our budget wouldn’t allow us to do. We owe them a debt of gratitude for giving us the information that led to the arrest of this gang.” Those remarks of his are also probably intended to help the FBI’s next budget request.
The party starts to wind down after an hour or so, and before going to Laverne’s houseboat to pay my debt, I can’t help but ask myself what we really accomplished today. Sure, the bank robbery gang was caught and we’ve got some reward money coming, but does it really help me out with my questions about the Drago and Blitzstien cases? Not by a long shot. I still think that everything’s tied together and solving the robberies is just the first step in completing the whole puzzle.
There’s nothing like the brig ht southern California sunshine to clear your head and let you face the new day with a new outlook. As usual, Laverne left early in the morning and I’m now finishing the greasy French toast she left out for me. Today I plan on looking at the security tapes from the hospital again. Maybe there’s something I missed. I intend to view all the tapes - not just the one cassette with the murder on it.
After hours and hours of viewing the tapes, I finally see something that probably is just a defect on the tape, but just to make sure, I call the lab and tell them the frame I’d like an enlargement of.
Modern technology is great. In the old days, which in technospeak is about three years ago, to get the enlargement I want would take up to a week, taking the process and mails into consideration. Now, the picture is waiting for me in my incoming email folder and the kid’s photo-quality printer will have it ready for me in about fifteen seconds.
Looking at the picture, I see something I absolutely cannot figure out. The shot depicts Harold with his back to the camera standing next to Drago’s bed, which has a privacy curtain blocking any view from the room’s open door. This point in time is before Harold used the pillow to smother Drago. What catches my attention is something in the hallway, low down near the floor. It’s slightly blurred but I’m amazed at what I think it is. It looks like the white tip of something furry – like a tail.
I have to sit down for a minute. This can’t be what I think it is because they don’t allow animals in the hospital… or do they? Just to satisfy my curiosity, I press the button on our electric can opener
– the one that’s used every day to open the large can of dog food that my associate eats. Hearing the whirr of the can opener brings the Saint Bernard running from the forward stateroom and I have a chance to see his tail. The rear portion of it is white.
Not wanting to see a look of disappoint on that huge face of his, I toss him a dog biscuit. He’s been paid for his trip, so he retreats. I sit down with my head in my hands. I know that the kid does her dog act at the hospital, and I also know that the children’s ward is on the same floor that Drago got killed. Does this mean that the kid and the dog walked by Drago’s room while the murderer was in there? It’s possible, if that’s the dog’s tail. And anywhere that the dog was, the kid was too.
I have to get some facts in order, so I call Jack Bibberman and tell him to check with the hospital for the exact days and hours that Suzi was at the hospital doing her volunteer turn at the various wards there. I know that if I try to speak to her, the conversation on her part will probably be extremely brief, so I want to know what I’m talking about before trying to ask her any questions.
It took Jack B. only two hours to get the requested info together and just as I suspected, the timeline fits. The dog was on Drago’s floor at the time of the murder. Does this do me any good? I really don’t want to get the kid involved in this case, especially because she’s not a truly independent witness – counsel for the defense is her legal guardian.
Putting Suzi on the witness stand would also be a terrible situation for Myra, who would then be forced to aggressively cross-examine her and try to destroy the credibility of a little girl she’s really fond of.
Even if she did walk by the room while Harold was in there, I can’t imagine anything she could have seen that could possibly help me with this case. Even though the door to Drago’s room was open, Harold did his smothering work behind a privacy curtain so that whatever he was doing wouldn’t be visible to someone walking by out in the hall. There was no window next to Drago’s bed, so Harold’s actions didn’t form any visible silhouette on the curtain.
I’m going to leave this alone. It was a pure fluke that I happened to notice the tip of what I’m sure is the dog’s tail in that picture. Anyone else looking at the footage probably wouldn’t spot it - and even if they did, they’d never be able to figure out what it was. Case closed. She’s not being brought into this.
All this does is l eave me with more questions than answers and Harold’s trial is coming up soon. I still have absolutely no strategy for his defense but I’ve got to keep working on the case, so I figure that another visit to him couldn’t hurt.
Harold looks worse than ever as he walks into the jail’s interview room. He looks at me with an angry glare. “You caught those bank robbers, huh?”
“I did have something to do with it, but the FBI made the arrests. All I did was point them in the right direction.”
Strangely enough, this looks like the start of our first real conversation. He’s finally talking to me but unfortunately it’s not about his case.
“You gonna get a reward for that?” That’s strange – his asking me about a reward. I’m starting to sense some other agenda on his mind, so I let him go on. “You think you got the whole gang of ‘em?”
“Yes Harold, it looks that way. They were all arrested together in a van shortly after finishing their last job. From what I see on the news, the feds found bags stuffed with money from all the other jobs when searching the house they all worked out of.”
“You didn’t tell me if you’re gonna get a reward.”
“I don’t know for sure. Usually in cases like this they pay something to people who help get their money back, but it remains to be seen if I’ll actually get anything out of it. I had a group of about seven people working on that case with me, so even if there is a reward, it’ll be cut up a lot of ways.”
He goes silent again, obviously thinking about something. Then he starts to question me again. “You think they’ll pay more money for information about others in the gang that ain’t been caught yet?”
So that’s what it is. He’s had his ears open while he’s been here in jail and must have heard some other inmates talking. As cold as it will sound, I have to ask the question. “Harold, let’s face the facts here. You’ve already admitted to me that you killed Drago. I even had to fight to get you to not plead guilty at the first arraignment. What’s the difference if they’ll pay more money for information on other gang members or not, you’ll have no need for any reward money – you’ll be in prison.
“Yeah, but my ex-wife and kids won’t, and they can use the money.”
Com
e to think of it, I remember that when the background checks came in on him and Drago, there was some mention of him having a family somewhere. “Where are they Harold?”
“They live in the high desert – between Palmdale and Lancaster.”
I get his family’s address and tell him that I’ll look further into whether there’s any more reward money to be had. He looks weak as he leaves the interview room. He’s a cold-blooded killer, but I still feel sorry for him.
Back at the boat, I call Agent Snell’s West Los Angeles FBI office and ask him about additional reward money for members of the gang not yet caught. He tells me that there is some more money available. They have an arrangement whereby the banks authorize them to pay out reward money on either a ‘head count’ or ‘dollars recovered’ basis. We’re already entitled to a pretty nice sum on the dollars recovered and now I learn that we can also collect on the head count basis for other members of the gang, but there’s a string attached. In order for someone to collect on gang members still at large, there must be proof that they also participated in the robberies that took place. Just being members of the gang who might pull off new jobs doesn’t qualify for reward money.
I now know the rules but I don’t know ho w it’ll help Harold in any way. Even if he gives me some information on the names of remaining gang members, I’m not going to spend a great deal of time and money putting together another master plan. I try to limit my hero playing to just once a year. Another reason I’m not inclined to get involved further is that if I decide to continue doing criminal defense work, it wouldn’t help my image to be looked at as the guy who sends people to jail, instead of getting them out.
I write a nice letter to Harold telling him that yes, there is more reward money available and that the best way to go would be for him to convey his information to the Feds and let them know that any reward is to be paid directly to his family.
Next time I visit with Harold he tells me that my idea stinks. First of all, he doesn’t want to be labeled as a ‘snitch.’ That can be very dangerous for a person serving time. Second, he doesn’t trust the authorities to pay the reward money out to his family… he wants me to do it. I tell him that I’ll think about it, but I can’t do anything about it until after his trial is over. He’s not too happy to hear this but that’s too bad. I’ve got to keep my priorities in order. First things first.
Only two days until Harold’s trial. I call the autopsy place to find out what’s holding things up. Victor Gutierrez, the main guy there, tells me that they had to re-schedule it twice because Myra’s coroner guy kept canceling out due to prior commitments. I tell him that the trial is in two days and I’ve got to have the information, so he should go ahead with it immediately. They’ve already got Drago’s body there, so it shouldn’t take too long. I get a message off to Myra letting her know that her guy flaked out on us twice and that the autopsy’s going on with or without him. She understands that anything she does to prolong this post-mortem might make her look like she’s interfering with the defendant’s right to a speedy trial, so she backs off and tells me to go ahead with it.
I spent yesterday and today preparing what will be done in vain – a closing argument. Fortunately there won’t be any jury in this case, so my embarrassment will be limited only to the people in the courtroom. The trial will go on tomorrow, as scheduled and I feel like a guy being walked to the gallows. The phone rings. My caller ID display shows 18002886779, which I recognize as the numeric equivalent of the Autopsy place, so I know who’s calling. I grab the phone “Yeah, Peter Sharp here, what have you got for me?”
It’s Victor Gutierrez, the autopsy place’s supervisor. “Hello Mister Sharp, it’s Victor here, at one eight hundred autopsy.”
“I know that Victor – have you got the results yet on Drago?”
“Yes we do, Mister Sharp.” He stops talking.
“Well, what is this, a quiz game? What have you got? What’s the official cause of death? Asphyxiation?”
“Not exactly.”
“Not exactly? What are you telling me, that he wasn’t smothered to death by a pillow?”
“That’s what I said Mister Sharp, he died of natural causes.”
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mpossible. “Are you crazy Victor? I’ve got video footage that shows the murder actually taking place. Drago was lying in the hospital bed when my
client smothered him to death with a pillow.” “Well Mister Sharp, maybe someone pushed a pillow down on his face while he was laying in the bed, but the guy was smothering a dead man.” I have to stop for a minute. This is too much for me. My mind is racing. Could Harold be innocent of the murder? I don’t realize how long I’m quiet while Victor is waiting on the line.
“Mister Sharp, you still there?”
He shakes me back to the reality of our conversation. “Okay Victor, tell me what you think the actual cause of death was.”
“Mister Sharp, the deceased’s death was as a result of internal hemorrhaging, caused by a broken rib that punctured an arterial wall. The rib looks like it was broken shortly before his death, and there was constant internal bleeding that went undiagnosed. He finally died from his injuries before anyone pushed a pillow down on his face.”
“You’re serious about this?”
“Mister Sharp, we don’t joke about death… it’s our bread and butter.”
I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt and believe that he’s serious when he says that. I don’t know where to start, but I’ve still got some unanswered questions. “Victor, do you have any idea how long he was dead before the pillow incident?” “There’s really no way to tell, but it must have been less than a minute before the guy tried to smother him.”
“How the hell can you be so sure about such a short period of time?”
“Simple. He was hooked up to a monitoring device that sent a signal to the nurses’ station. As soon as his heart stopped, the device sent a flat-line signal and the rescue team ran into the room. It couldn’t have been more than a minute, because they started resuscitation procedures. If there was someone working him over with a pillow, he must have almost bumped into the medical team as they ran into the room.”
He’s right about that. Harold hid behind a screen, making his exit after the team was busy working on Drago. “Victor, the trial starts tomorrow. As we’ve already arranged, I want you on one-hour call, so when my defense case gets started, so you can be there with your report. Got it?”
“Yes sir, Mister Sharp. I’ll be there. I just want to remind you that the witness fee isn’t included in the autopsy price.”
“Yeah Victor, I know – there’s no free lunch.”
This is coming together too fast for me. So many thoughts are racing through my mind, but strangely enough the one that seems uppermost is that if I beat Myra on this case, we’re having dinner at the Lahaina Yacht Club and I’ll be back in the saddle again.
Boy, what a dog I am to be thinking of nailing Myra again, while I’m getting ready to go in on a capital murder case. Okay, back to business. There are some downsides to this too. In order to get her into the sack in Hawaii, I’ve got to destroy her in court, which will mean that by losing what looked like a slam-dunk case, she’ll probably have no chance of getting elected as District Attorney. That won’t make her happy and will probably turn our romantic weekend in Hawaii into a replay of our last couple of days cohabiting - just before she finally threw me out.
It looks like the only winner in this whole situation is a guy who can’t even murder someone in a timely fashion – Harold Blitzstien.
The bailiff calls the court to order and Judge Axelrod takes the bench. Once the case is called we each stand up and state our name and representation for the record. There are only a few members of the press sitting in the spectator seats. Myra seems very relaxed because she still thinks she’s going to win. She’s got a copy of the autopsy report because I told Victor to fax it to her, but she probably didn’t even take
the time to read it. Why should she? She’s still positive that Harold did it. Myra starts her opening statement. “Your Honor, the People intend to show that the Defendant entered the victim’s hospital room and smothered him to death with a pillow. This fact will be proven beyond a reasonable doubt by the introduction of videotape evidence that shows the defendant committing the crime.” She sits down. That was probably the shortest opening statement on a murder case in history. Now it’s my turn, and I hope that the paramedics are nearby because what I have to say may put Myra into shock. I’m not worried about how it’ll affect Harold because he’s sitting here like a zombie.
I stand up. “Your Honor, we intend to introduce evidence to the fact that the deceased died from natural causes as the result of a slip-and-fall accident that occurred a day earlier than the incident which is the subject matter of this trial. The Defendant, Harold Blitzstien, did in fact attempt to murder the deceased, but his efforts were wasted on a man who was already dead.” I sit down.
This statement is the shortest opening I’ve ever given, but it had the most impact. The judge is staring down at me with one of those ‘are you kidding?’ looks on his face.
Harold comes out of his trance with a questioning expression on his face. The few reporters in the room jump up and run out to the hallway, dialing on their cell phones as they run. Myra sits there silently looking at me, in a state of disbelief.
The judge breaks the silence. “Mister Sharp, in your opening statement, you alluded to the fact that you would be introducing evidence to support your contentions. Have you informed the prosecution about this?”
by Reason of Sanity Page 15