Harper Ross Legal Thrillers vol. 1-3
Page 90
I went to the witness stand and Mick got up and uncertainly went to the stand. “Please raise your right hand,” I said.
Mick raised it.
“Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”
“I do.”
“Please be seated.”
Jack sat down.
“Please state your name for the record.”
“Jack Richard Calhoun.”
I closed my eyes, seeing that the clock read exactly 9:10.
When I opened them, Jack was staring into the audience. Just staring intently.
I didn’t even have to turn around. I knew what he was staring at.
And, before my eyes, Mick’s expression changed.
I had a feeling that I was finally going to meet Eli.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Jack narrowed his eyes and, all at once, his posture changed completely. He leaned back in his chair, looking, for all the world, like he wanted to light up a cigarette right then and there. He put his right arm casually on the side of the table, on the railing that bounded the witness stand. He nodded his head and raised his eyebrow.
I took a deep breath as the man in front of me, who might have been Eli or Sam or alter-to-be-named-later, sized me up. I prayed that he didn’t start babbling about something. I prayed that he didn’t state his name. I had a feeling, however, that he knew the score. He knew that he was going to have to play along. Especially if he was Eli – Eli was Jack’s protector. I hoped that his instinct was still that – to protect Jack at all costs. That would mean not saying anything that would give Judge Greene reason to suspect that the man looking at me from the witness stand wasn’t Jack.
“Mr. Calhoun,” I said. “Take me back the afternoon of April 19 of this year. What were you doing?”
“Well,” he said, his cadence tough, his voice sounding like he was talking with a mouth full of marbles. Like Marlon Brando in The Godfather. “I was talking with Father Kennedy, like, you know, minding my own damned business.” His head started to jut to and fro and his posture got even more casual. He leaned back further in his chair and he reached for a pencil that was on the desk in front of him and put it in his mouth like a cigarette. It dangled from his lips, and then he put it down.
I felt a sense of relief. This was the alter who knew what happened! This was him!
“You were talking with Father Kennedy,” I said. “What were you talking about?”
“You know, life, whatnot. I’m not going to go into all that, ‘cause, you know, that’s secret and all, but, yeah, I was talking to him. There’s this dude named Mick who had the hots for him, and I knew that, and Mick’s a good friend of mine and all and I just wanted to, you know, tell Father Kennedy that he needed to tell Mick to chill out.” He nodded his head. “That’s what I was talking to him about.”
He winked at me and smiled and I started to relax. If this was Eli, he wasn’t so bad. He kind of had the affect of a fifties hood with a heart of gold – like one of the T-Birds in Grease. Danny Zuko and Kennecke came to my mind. I wondered if that was how Jack formed this personality – he based him upon the movies he knew. But, maybe not – Grease didn’t come on the screen until four years after Jack was sprung from that house.
“So, you were talking to Father Kennedy about this friend of yours named Mick, right?”
“Right. So, yeah, we were in there, in that house, shooting the breeze and stuff when this man came in.” He shook his head. “This dude came in. He looked just like that other priest, that Father Mathews guy, but he wasn’t him. It looked like him, though.”
I furrowed my brow. “A guy came in. What guy? Did he say who he was?”
“Nah. He just came right on in, and he said that he knew me.” Eli – I was assuming this was Eli – shrugged. “He told me that he knew that I was crazy, loony tunes, although I have no idea how he came up with that, because I didn’t know this guy from Adam.” Eli shook his head.
“He told you that he knew that you were crazy and-“
“Yeah. He accused me of murdering his little brother. Man, this dude was one crazy…” He looked over at the jury and shrugged. “He was one crazy cat, put it that way.”
This was gold, and it wasn’t hearsay, because Raymond Mathews was available to testify and cross-examine about this. I turned around and saw Vince, who was watching me warily and then he stood up. “Your honor, I would like to object to this testimony. Unless Ms. Ross can show me that this mystery man who came into this rectory is going to be available to cross-examine, I would like this entire testimony to be stricken as inadmissible hearsay.”
Judge Greene nodded and called both of us to the bench. “Ms. Ross,” Judge Greene whispered. “Is this man that your witness is referring to going to be made available?”
“He is, your honor. My client is talking about Raymond Mathews, who is on my witness list.”
“Okay, then. Have him establish that this man that he’s talking about is Raymond Mathews and I’ll allow it. Otherwise, I have to agree that your client’s testimony about this man should be stricken.”
“Thank you, your honor.”
I went back to questioning Eli. “Now, did you get this guy’s name?”
“Nah,” he said. “He didn’t tell me his name, but I recognized him anyhow. He’s the brother of that other dude, that other penguin, Father Mathews. I seen him around after that day, and I figured out he was named Raymond Mathews.”
I let out a sigh of relief. I had no idea if Eli was telling the truth about how he figured out that this guy was Raymond Mathews, but it was out there and gave a positive ID, so that was all good.
“Raymond Mathews,” I said. “And what happened next? He burst into the rectory, said that you were crazy, accused you of murdering his little brother, and then what happened?”
“Well, he started saying some crazy stuff to that Father Kennedy. He accused the Father of covering up for his brother’s killer, which made me kind of go ‘I thought I was your brother’s killer,’ you know?’” He shrugged. “He couldn’t make up his mind about who he was going to kill first, me or Father Kennedy. He said that we both were going to go down for the death of his brother, but then he said something about making me suffer by going into the nut house, because I was crazy, and he said that he knew that when I saw what was about to happen that I was going to go loony tunes. Which I guess I did.”
“So, Raymond Mathews appeared in the rectory, and threatened the life of both you and Father Kennedy. Is that what you’re telling the jury?”
“That’s what I’m saying, yo. That’s how it went down.” He nodded his head to and fro. “And then this dude got out this hunting knife. Oh, and yeah, he was completely bald too, man. Not a damned hair on his head. But he had this hunting knife, and he was wearing these latex gloves and he plunged that knife right in that poor penguin’s heart.”
I looked at the jury and wondered if Eli was believable. He was being so callous about all of this. I knew why he was being callous, too – after what he had seen at Jackson Heaney’s house, nothing probably fazed him. I hoped that the jury didn’t think that he was unbelievable, though, because of his demeanor.
I nodded my head. “And what happened next?”
Eli shrugged. “Man, he did some kind of hypnosis shit on me.” He put his hand over his mouth and looked over at the judge. “Oops, sorry. I didn’t mean to say that.” Then he turned to me. “He did some hypnosis spell on me, and, next thing I know, I’m in the squad car.” He shook his head. “That was some trifling nonsense right there, man.”
Hypnosis! That was what happened! I wondered if Raymond was trained for that. I really should have looked into his background better. I was certainly going to have to ask him about that.
I was also happy that Eli relayed that he woke up in the squad car. I knew that he didn’t; Jack was the one who woke up in the squad car. But Eli put that in there to make the whole thing more believable.
Good going, Eli!
I didn’t want to go further. I didn’t know how much Eli knew about what came next, and I didn’t want him to try to testify about things that he didn’t know about. Vince would be able to exploit that for sure.
“I have nothing further,” I said.
“Mr. Malloy,” Judge Greene said. “Your witness.”
Vince looked annoyed and I knew why. I basically had sprung an 11th hour witness on him, because he wasn’t prepared to cross Eli. He was prepared to cross Mick, who Vince knew had no knowledge of the killing. But this Eli was somebody new and I think that Eli’s testimony put Vince off balance.
“Um,” Vince said, looking at his notes. “How did you find out that this mystery man, who came into the rectory, was Father Mathews’ brother Raymond?”
Eli thought on his feet. “My lawyer showed me a picture of Raymond Mathews, after I told her what had happened, and I told her that the dude looked just like Father Mathews, and I said ‘that’s him. That’s him.’”
“Have you ever seen him before this happened?”
“Nah. I mean, I kinda knew Father Mathews. I had seen him around, but he never knew me. I just saw him around, you know. But that new dude, that dude that came in like that and started with that crazy talk, he looked just like Father Mathews.”
“And this Raymond Mathews hypnotized you? That’s your testimony?”
“Yeah. After he just stuck that hunting knife into poor Father Kennedy like that, well, I wasn’t ready to see something like that. I just looked at him and I was going to tackle him, because I’m figuring I’m next, you know. But he put his hands on my shoulders and started to talk to me about becoming somebody else and forgetting what had happened to Father Kennedy, and, I don’t know, I guess it worked because the next thing I know, I’m being taken downtown in the back of a cop car.”
Vince shook his head. I knew that he was off-balance and I kinda felt sorry for him. He usually did a decent job of cross-examining, but, today, with Jack, it was like he didn’t quite know what to say.
“I have nothing further.” He shot me a look like what the hell just happened?
I smiled. I had the one more witness, and that was Raymond.
And it was going to have to be really, really good.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
My heart pounded and my hands were shaking as I asked Eli to step down from the witness stand. I was nervous, so nervous, because I knew that Raymond Matthews was next. And I had no idea what he was going to say. I couldn’t know, as I was going to treat him as hostile and I had to have the element of surprise, so I didn’t depose him.
Never ask a question that you don’t know the answer to. That was Rule 101 for trial attorneys, because when you ask a question that you don’t know the answer to, AND you’re not certain that the witness is going to answer the way that you want to, then things go sideways. They go sideways and upside down, and, suddenly, you find yourself behind the eight-ball.
In this case, I was certain that Raymond Mathews killed Father Kennedy. I was fairly certain that he was never going to admit to it. What I wanted to do was to ask him these questions and see how he reacts. See his tone of voice, his body language, whatever. And I wanted the jury to see these things as well. That was key – even if the guy lies, unless he’s some kind of pathological liar or a sociopath, then he was going to give tell-tale signs that he was lying. My hope was that the jury could pick up these cues. That was always my hope.
I felt a bit more comfortable with this case, though, because Eli came out and he told the truth. At least, I thought it might be Eli. I still didn’t know. I was going to have to ask him after this trial was finished.
“Ms. Ross,” Judge Greene said. “Call your next witness.”
I nodded. “The defense calls Raymond Mathews.” My plan was to ask him questions, and then, if he proceeded to lie, I was going to treat him as hostile. If I treated him as hostile, then I would be able to ask leading questions and would be able to impeach him if I needed to do so.
At that, the bailiff went out into the hallway, where Raymond Mathews was sitting. I knew that he had no preparation for what I was going to ask him. He probably had no clue why I called him. He couldn’t possibly know that Jack had finally accessed the alter who had seen everything. I didn’t know how it was that Raymond knew that Jack had different personalities. I imagined that Father Mathews also told Raymond that Father Kennedy knew about Jackson Heaney and failed to do anything about it. It was good to know that he used a hypnosis technique to make Jack lose consciousness and forget about everything. He thought he was being clever.
He was wrong.
I would imagine that his plan, in the end, was that he relied upon me pleading Jack NGRI, or, barring that, showing that Jack was crazy, so he couldn’t be a reliable witness against him. Raymond knew that Jack clinically insane, and he was going to use that as his defense. Don’t rely on a word he says. That guy is crazy.
He couldn’t have imagined that I would be one step ahead of his thinking. An ordinary attorney would have had Jack evaluated, and probably would have tried for a NGRI plea, after looking into Jack’s background and discovering that he had DID. Raymond was counting on an ordinary attorney trying this case.
He wasn’t counting on me.
I was crazier than he was.
Raymond finally made it to the stand.
“Please raise your right hand,” the bailiff ordered.
Raymond raised his right hand.
“Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?” The bailiff asked.
“I do.”
The bailiff took his seat, and I strode purposely over to the witness stand and stood right in front of Raymond. I didn’t say anything at first, but just stared at him for a full minute. I stared right into those brown eyes and I didn’t look away.
And then I turned my back, walked over to my table, where Eli was sitting and staring right at Raymond as well. I looked at Eli’s eyes and I saw him giving Raymond the death glare.
No doubt about it, Raymond knew that we knew. We were psyching him out, or, at least, that was my purpose.
It was quiet in the courtroom, so quiet that you could hear a pin drop. I looked at the jury, and every member of that jury had their eyes fixated on Raymond. They heard what Eli just said. They knew Eli’s testimony. Now, they were waiting to see what Raymond was going to say or do.
I smiled. I was happy that the jury was paying so close attention to Raymond. That way, when he lied, they were probably going to be able to pick up on it.
I finally spoke. “Could you please state your name for the record?”
“Raymond James Mathews.”
“Mr. Mathews, are you the brother of Father Mathews?”
“Yes. He is my brother.”
“Are you aware of the reason why I called you to testify in court today?”
He shook his head. “No. I don’t know why I was called to testify. I don’t know what I have to do with this case, except that my brother was the Associate Pastor serving Father Kennedy. That is the only reason why I believe I was called to testify today.”
I got right to it. “Did you once have an identical twin brother by the name of Ryan?”
Raymond shifted uncomfortable in his seat and loosened his collar and tie. “Yes,” he said softly.
“What happened to your little brother?”
“He was murdered 45 years ago.” He looked down at the witness stand. “He was abducted and murdered.”
I took a deep breath and pressed on. “Who abducted and murdered him?”
“A guy by the name of Steven Heaney.”
“Steven Heaney.” I looked over at the stands, where Steven was sitting. However, Raymond appeared not to recognize him. That didn’t surprise me – Steven was an old man, and, unlike Jack, Raymond didn’t spend a lot of time with him.
“Yes, Steven Heaney. Why is this important?”
“No.”
“Permission to treat the witness as hostile,” I said to the judge.
Judge Greene nodded. “Proceed, counselor.”
“Mr. Mathews, isn’t it true that Father Kennedy was Steven Heaney’s spiritual counselor?”
Raymond looked bewildered, but knew that he was going to have to answer that question truthfully. Yet, he didn’t. “I don’t know.”
“Isn’t it true that Father Kennedy heard the confessions of Steven Heaney, and he therefore knew that Steven was killing children, yet he did nothing to stop it?”
Raymond got quiet and crossed his arms in front of him. “You’ll have to ask him,” he said defiantly.
“He’s not here to ask. That’s why I’m asking you.” I paused. “Now, isn’t it true that you were recently made aware that Father Kennedy, back in 1972, knew that Steven Heaney was killing children and he did nothing about it?”
Raymond looked away. “That’s a goddamned horrible law,” he said. “If a priest knows that killing is going on, he should go to the authorities. If Father Kennedy had gone to the authorities when he first found out about Steven Heaney, my twin brother would be alive today.” He crossed his arms again and glared at me.
“Is it fair to say that you were angry with Father Kennedy for not going to the authorities when he first found out about Steven Heaney?”
“Listen, Father Kennedy knew about Steven Heaney right from the start. From the start. Steven Heaney confessed everything to him, and he confessed everything to him from the first murder. Steven Heaney kept abducting children and kept murdering them, and, every time he did that, he told Father Kennedy about it.” Raymond shook his head. “That was on his head. On his head. All those murdered kids were on his head. Every last one of them. If he would have called the police the first time Steven Heaney told him that he abducted and killed a kid, there would be at least 34 kids who wouldn’t have suffered and wouldn’t have been murdered. 34 families wouldn’t have been torn apart.”