Tattered Justice

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Tattered Justice Page 18

by John Foxjohn


  Kayla smiled, too. “Ms. Pate, I believe you testified that Michelle McCrery stated on the phone, ‘Loren, is that you? Why are you in my house?’ Is that correct?”

  She nodded, and then remembered she needed to speak. “It is.”

  “If a manuscript came across your desk with those words in it, what kind of grammatical punctuation would you expect after Loren, is that you?”

  She blinked and frowned as if Kayla asked her a trick question. “A—question mark.”

  Kayla leaned forward. “Why would you expect a question mark? Wasn’t she sure who had come into her house?”

  Proctor began to rise, but sat. Kayla knew he couldn’t afford to object to the question. It would make the jury believe he tried to keep something from them.

  Michelle shook her head. “I’m not sure I understand the question.”

  “Okay. Fair enough. Did Michelle know who had come into her house?”

  Kayla expected Proctor to object to that question and she wasn’t disappointed. “Your Honor. There’s no way the witness can know what the victim thought at the time.”

  “Sustained. Ms. Nugent, rephrase your question, please.”

  “Ms. Pate, did the way Michelle McCrery make that statement lead you to believe she didn’t know who had come into her house?”

  Proctor rose as if he had gotten tired of playing with children. “Your honor, I have the same objection to this question, too.”

  “Well, Mr. Proctor I don’t have the same ruling. Overruled. The witness may answer the question.”

  Stephanie glanced from Proctor to Ballard, and then to Kayla. “My impression from what she said was that she didn’t know who entered her house.”

  Kayla nodded. “Thank you, Stephanie. I’m sorry to have to put you through that. I pass the witness.”

  Proctor cocked his head and glanced at his notes. He wanted to ask more questions to counter what Kayla had done, but it didn’t appear he knew what he could ask without getting himself in trouble. He must have decided that Kayla hadn’t done any damage because he did what Kayla would have done in his place. He released the witness.

  Proctor rose. “Your honor, the state would like to call Devin Earnests.”

  The bailiff left and moments later, escorted a uniformed police officer to the stand. He stepped up to the witness stand and the judge issued the oath.

  As Proctor got him to state his name and job, Kayla turned to his name in her legal pad. She didn’t have a single question prepared for him. Loren glanced at the pad and frowned.

  Proctor led the officer through the time he’d received the call and what he’d done when he arrived on the scene, asked a bunch of questions that had no relevance at all, then passed the witness.

  Kayla glanced up. “Officer, I have just one or two questions of you. Who killed the victim?”

  His eyes widened. “Ma’am I have no way of knowing that.”

  “Why is that?”

  “I wasn’t there at the time she died.”

  Kayla turned to the judge. “I have no further questions for this witness.”

  Proctor leaned back in his seat with that irritating smirk on his face. “You say you don’t know who killed her because you weren’t there. Was it your job to figure out who killed her?”

  “No, sir. My job was to call the ambulance, notify my supervisor, and seal off the crime scene. I did that.”

  “Thank you, officer.” He turned to Kayla. “I pass this witness.”

  Kayla put her pen down. Of course, that was his job and she didn’t know why Proctor called him in the first place. More than likely showboating for the cameras. “No questions, Your Honor.”

  Kayla leaned over to Loren. “I didn’t have any questions because he couldn’t help us or hurt us.”

  The judge announced that the court would take a thirty-minute break. When the jury exited, Kayla strolled out of the courtroom. Several reporters attempted to interview her, but she waved them off. She didn’t like having cameras and microphones shoved in her face at every opportunity. Nor did she like having the cameras in the courtroom hanging on every word, mannerism, gesture, or expression.

  She’d read that more people across the country watched and followed this trial than the O.J. one. It had become a circus and she didn’t want to participate in it.

  She greeted several people outside with a smile or nod—some returned them and others, like the victim’s family, only glared. In murder trials, there never was just one victim. Families had to live with their grief and sense of revenge.

  Marvin leaned against the wall close to her as Kayla took a drink from the fountain. “Think they are getting ready to bring in the big guns?” he asked.

  She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Yeah, probably the lead detective. This one will be here awhile.”

  Kayla checked her messages and had several, but two caught her attention. She called Darren back first and spoke to him for a few minutes, but he still hadn’t found what she’d asked him to look for, nor had he located the laptop Kayla thought someone stole from Michelle McCrery’s home.

  It surprised her that John Sutherland had called. When she returned his, he’d only say he needed to talk to her immediately. As they announced the trial about to start, she told him to come by her office at five-thirty.

  Inside the courtroom, Proctor threw the first surprise at them. “The state calls Ms. Gladys Carmichael.”

  Kayla and Marvin exchanged a “what would he do that for” expression. “Why’d he call her before the detectives?” Marvin asked.

  Kayla shrugged and scratched her ear. She’d have let the detectives explain how they found her before she called the eyewitness.

  “Who is she?” Loren asked.

  Kayla flipped in her legal pad where she had a paper clip gathering all the questions she had for this witness. She half turned and whispered. “She’s the eyewitness that puts you at the scene of the crime.”

  “Is that important?”

  Kayla hesitated before answering. She cupped her hand. “This is the most important witness the state has. Without her, they can’t convict you. She places you at the murder scene and at the time it occurred.”

  As the woman had a seat, Loren shook her head. “If she says she saw me there, she is lying. You will make her say she is lying?”

  The witness took the stand and glanced at the picture of Michelle McCrery that Proctor left displayed on the screen.

  Kayla didn’t say anything as Proctor began his questions. She wished she could make her say she had lied, but didn’t think she could trip this witness up. Sure couldn’t discredit her. Kayla also didn’t believe this woman had lied. She may be mistaken, but she definitely saw someone, and for whatever reason, believed the person she saw was Loren.

  If Loren had told her the truth, the woman saw someone else. It wouldn’t be the first time she had a client lie to her, and she had more reason to believe the other clients than Loren Estes.

  “Ms. Carmichael, would you explain where you live in relationship with the victim?”

  “Ah-uh, I live in the condo next to hers. Both our front doors face the sidewalk.”

  “Isn’t it true that your condo is the exact same as Ms. McCrery’s?”

  “Yes, both are two stories with the living areas and kitchen on the bottom and the bedrooms and office on the top.”

  “At the time of Ms. McCrery’s death, where were you?”

  Kayla rose. “Your honor, I object. The prosecutor is asking about a fact not in evidence.”

  “Your honor,” Proctor said, “the state intends to have the time of death placed into evidence for the court.”

  “Mr. Proctor, you may plan to, but you haven’t. Ms. Nugent is quite correct. Objection sustained.”

  “Ms. Carmichael, let me ask you the question another way. When did you become aware that something might be wrong at your next door neighbor’s home?”

  “I heard something that sounded to me like a gunshot.”


  “Could you tell where the shot came from?”

  Kayla almost rose again to object to the word shot used by Proctor because the prosecutor had not placed into evidence anything about a gun, bullet, or shot fired. She didn’t because Proctor would, and she couldn’t afford to object to every little thing.

  Gladys Carmichael smoothed her hair from her cheek. “No, not really. It sounded close, but I couldn’t tell.”

  Proctor made a note on his legal pad as Kayla leaned over to Marvin. “She said something a little different when I talked to her.”

  “Ms. Carmichael,” Proctor said, “what did you do when you heard what you thought was a shot?”

  Kayla had readied herself to object again and for the same reason, but Proctor must have anticipated it, and didn’t make the same mistake as he had on the first.

  “I hurried to the window that overlooked the front of my condo. I wasn’t sure where the shot came from, but thought I might see something.”

  “What did you see when you looked out your window?”

  Gladys Carmichael hesitated a moment and glanced at Loren, then back to the jury. “I saw a person walking away. They stopped and half-turned to face the front of our condos.”

  “Could you tell if this person was a man or woman before she turned to face you?”

  She shook her head. “No, I couldn’t, but when she turned to face me, I could tell she was a woman.”

  Proctor leaned forward in his seat and made a note on his pad. He glanced up, “Ms. Carmichael, I want you to think carefully about this next question. Do you see the person in this courtroom that you viewed outside of Michelle McCrery’s home moments after you heard a shot?”

  She nodded several times and pointed at Loren. “That’s her.”

  Murmurs ran through the courtroom causing Ballard to glare at the spectators.

  Proctor pointed at Loren with his pen. “Are you indicating the woman who is sitting to my left wearing the black clothes?”

  When the witnessed affirmed that she’d seen Loren, Proctor asked the court to indicate in the record that the witness had identified the defendant.

  Fourteen gazes locked on Loren from the jurors’ box. They didn’t have a doubt in their minds that this woman told the truth. Kayla looked away. Some things in Proctor’s case she could explain away. If she didn’t figure a way to discredit, or do something with this witness, this trial was over before it even started.

  When Ballard nodded, Proctor continued. “Ms. Carmichael, approximately how far was the person you saw from you when she turned?”

  The witness tapped on her cheek with an index finger a moment. “It’s hard to say, but not too far.” She looked around and her eyes widened. “About from me to the rear door of the courtroom.”

  Kayla unclipped her questions for this witness and glanced over them while Proctor, anticipating what she might ask, cut all of Kayla’s questions to shreds. Kayla almost twirled her pen, but stopped herself. This woman’s testimony killed her case, and she had known it would.

  The testimony didn’t sound near as bad on paper as it did listening to it in court.

  They had two months to prepare for this, and they still weren’t ready for Gladys Carmichael. Kayla had two pressing questions—would they ever be ready, and why was this woman so sure she saw Loren Estes outside that condo moments after the shot?

  She looked up when Proctor passed the witness. Kayla closed her eyes a moment, taking a deep breath. “Your honor, the defense has no questions for this witness at the moment, but we plan to call her back as a witness for the defense.”

  It took a couple of minutes for the judge to quiet the courtroom. When he did, he threatened to clear the room if they could not control themselves.

  With the cameras in the back of the room, they focused on the back of Kayla’s head, but they had no problems picking up Loren’s head snapping around, or the murderous look she shot at Kayla.

  TWENTY-ONE

  When the judge dismissed the court for the day, Loren stormed out the front of the building to all the waiting cameras. She hadn’t spoken to them until now.

  One woman thrust a microphone at her. “Ms. Estes—are you guilty of this murder?”

  Through tight lips, Loren responded, “The only thing I’m guilty of is bad judgment.”

  Another person shouted over the others, “So you were the woman the witness saw?”

  “No, she is lying. I have never been to Michelle McCrery’s house or to my knowledge, close to it.”

  “What bad judgment are you guilty of?”

  Her eyes blazed into the camera. “You figure it out. It happened after the police started investigating me.” With that, she marched away while questions poured at her.

  Later, Kayla and Marvin sat in her office watching Loren on the breaking news story. The anchorperson paraphrased Loren with, “Estes admits bad judgment in the attorney she hired to defend her.”

  They followed this up with the shot of Loren in the courtroom glaring at Kayla, then what she’d said.

  Marvin slammed his hand on the desk. “That ungrateful—uh—woman. Is she that stupid?”

  Kayla leaned back and massaged her temples, eyes closed. Many adjectives could describe Loren Estes and most would be true, but she only cared for one person—herself.

  When Marvin left, Kayla let the TV remain on as Inside the Courtroom with Peter Crawford came on. He again had the two professors from Harvard and Georgetown, but this time, Crawford had added Carolyn Spencer, law professor from Stanford University, to bash her.

  She didn’t know why she’d bothered to listen to the junk.

  She half listened as the two male professors clobbered her up one wall and down the other. They began with her objection, raved about Kayla not giving an opening statement, and called her actions criminal by not cross-examining the witness.

  One of them went so far to state that Kayla attempted to get her client convicted. “No attorney is that incompetent.”

  As they talked, Kayla brought out the folder she kept on the people who would testify. Proctor had to call Detective Cameron Satterwhite first thing in the morning. She tried to concentrate, but her attention snapped to the TV as the men stopped dominating the conversation, and let the woman professor have a say.

  “Professor Spencer, do you agree with your colleagues’ assessment?” asked Crawford.

  “I don’t agree with them at all. They talk as if Ms. Nugent isn’t going to have an opening statement or question the witness. They seem to forget that she didn’t refuse to, simply postponed it.”

  One of the men questioned Spencer. “Don’t you consider this against the normal? After all, courtroom procedures are there to protect clients.”

  She nodded. “I agree, but how many attorneys have gone up against this prosecutor going by your book, so to speak, and won? None. Maybe it is time to throw the book out and try unconventional methods.”

  She took a deep breath. “You’re condemning this attorney and you don’t know her strategy—what she has planned for this witness. I agree it may look bad from our perspective, but this will be a long trial. Before you attempt to have her disbarred, why don’t we give her a chance?”

  Crawford, with a satisfied smile, pointed to polling results that flashed on the screen. “We conducted this poll of people who are watching the trial. Ninety-four percent of the viewers believe Loren Estes is guilty of the murder. Ninety-eight percent believe the defense attorney is doing a poor job. What do you say about that?”

  Before the Stanford professor could respond, one of the men beat her to the punch. “This poll goes right along with what we have said. Even the public can see what a poor job Kayla Nugent is doing. It is obvious that she has compassion. She is friendly, and for all I know, gets along well with everyone. I’m going to tell you this, though. The courtroom isn’t a place for congeniality.”

  Professor Spencer chuckled. “If you two would get your noses out of the book, you’d see what s
he is doing. I think her strategy is brilliant. As far as polls go, only one counts. At the end of this trial, they will poll twelve people in that courtroom. Only their vote counts.”

  “Professor Spencer,” Crawford said, “You sound like you think Kayla Nugent will win this.”

  “If I sound like I think she’ll win, I have given the wrong impression. I know she is going to win it.”

  As the two men and Crawford ganged up on the poor professor who had guts enough to stand against them, Kayla punched off the TV. At least someone was on her side. She’d bet they didn’t have that professor on again. The Stanford professor might be right if Kayla had a plan other than delay and hope they came up with something.

  If Darren didn’t find what she needed and in a hurry, she might be in trouble.

  With a pounding headache, Kayla knew one thing for sure—her day couldn’t get any worse. When Mary Jane buzzed her to tell her that John Sutherland had arrived for his appointment, her head dropped forward and she groaned.

  * * * *

  Although he hadn’t witnessed the trial, Darren knew it hadn’t gone well. Lawrence Estes let him know it loud and clear as he almost burst Darren’s eardrums over the cell phone. He screamed that Darren had better do something in a hurry because his baby had a fucked-up attorney.

  He didn’t have a clue what more he could do. He’d spent all day looking for what Kayla had asked but came up empty. He knew how to do his job, and if he couldn’t find it, he didn’t think it existed.

  He didn’t pay much attention to Estes, who had a tendency to overstate and dramatize things, but the next call left him wondering. Marvin called to see if he’d found anything. When Darren asked about how it went, he heard the hesitation. When Marvin filled him in, Darren asked him if he’d have handled it the same way.

  “No, I wouldn’t have. Kayla’s taking a huge chance and it may backfire in her face.”

  To hear the doubt from Marvin, who revered Kayla, left a lasting impression.

  When he first met her and started talking to her, how she treated people around her impressed him. Was she too nice to handle a case like this? He had no doubt that Proctor would run over her like another bump in the road. He’d run into many Proctors in his life and people didn’t succeed with them by being nice, playing by the rules. He hoped Kayla knew that, too.

 

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