"Objection. Leading the witness."
"Sustained."
"Nothing further." Hallowell sat down again, looking disgusted. Nina thought he had not gotten far.
"Call your next witness."
"Brenda Angelis." A tall, thin girl with a gamine haircut and deep red lips took the stand. She wore a tight jacket and skirt of blue denim, black stockings, and black high heels.
"Is it Miss Angelis?"
"Yeah."
"Where are you employed?"
"Prize’s. I’m a cocktail waitress."
"And did you know the defendant in April?"
"Sure. We worked together." Miss Angelis was looking around, enjoying the attention.
"On Monday evening, April thirtieth, were you and Mrs. Patterson working at Prize’s?"
"You got it."
"What, if anything, did Mrs. Patterson tell you about her husband?"
"She said they had a helluva fight the Thursday before. She said he was trying to rape her, and beating on her, and she went nuts and bonked him over the head with a statue. And then she said he disappeared and she thought he was going to ambush her or that he was dead or something. And she was moving to a motel till things cooled down."
It was a sensational statement. Brenda Angelis knew it, and she basked in the limelight.
"Did she give any details?"
"She said he was drunk, and he smelled bad."
"Anything else?"
She thought, then shrugged.
"No?"
"No."
"Did she state anything about the reason for the fight with her husband?"
"Oh, yeah. Right. Uh, he wasn’t going to spring for her therapy anymore. She was seeing a shrink—we should all be so lucky—and she didn’t want to quit."
"Thank you, Miss Angelis." The witness looked disappointed. Hallowell turned to Nina, muted triumph in his eyes. "Your witness."
Nina had decided to be very careful with this girl. "You say Mrs. Patterson beat her husband over the head?"
"Yeah."
"How many times?"
"Excuse me?"
"Did she tell you how many times she hit him?"
"No. I got the impression once was enough. Now I come to find out—"
"So she never stated she hit him more than once?"
The witness thought for a minute, then said, "I guess not."
"And then she said he disappeared?"
"Yeah."
"Anything about taking him out on a boat?"
"No, nothing like that."
"Did she seem to think he was alive?"
"She was scared shitless he was. Excuse me."
"Nothing further," Nina said. She hoped she had contained some of the damage, but Brenda had hurt more than any of the previous witnesses. Her testimony had a vitality and immediacy that let the jury see Michelle striking Anthony. The barmaid, wearing something similar to Miss Angelis’s outfit today, something tight and cheap, came home, picked a fight, and hefted that bear to sculpt Anthony Patterson’s skull. Anyone could now see that.
After the mid-afternoon break, Peter La Russa, Anthony’s friend and coconspirator, took the stand, but he wasn’t alone. Jeffrey Riesner walked up the aisle with him. "I represent Mr. La Russa," he said. "I request to stay by the witness box in the event my counsel is needed."
So La Russa might take the Fifth! And Riesner had insinuated himself into the trial after all.
"Any objection, Counsel?" Milne asked her and Hallowell. They shook their heads. Riesner had a right to be there.
"Mr. La Russa, during April you were a pit supervisor, commonly known as a pit boss, at Prize’s, is that correct?" Hallowell asked.
"Yes." La Russa sounded nervous, torn away from his stomping grounds.
"Did you know Anthony Patterson?"
"Yes."
"Were you friendly with him?"
"Somewhat."
"And you worked with him?"
"He worked Security. He was around."
"And did you know the defendant?"
"She brought drinks to the tables."
"Did Mr. Patterson ever discuss his marriage?"
"Objection, calls for hearsay," Nina said. Where was this going?
"Overruled."
"Yes, he did."
"Did you ever watch the two of them together?"
"Many times."
"And what, if anything, did you observe with regard to their relationship?"
"She hated the guy," La Russa said.
"What specifically did you observe in that regard?"
"She avoided him. Whenever he touched her, she looked disgusted. She never smiled at him or showed him any respect or love. She slept around on him."
"Thank you, Mr. La Russa," Hallowell said, showing his happiness with the testimony in a smug smile.
Up to this point Riesner hadn’t made a peep. He just stood there. Nina hoped she could get through her cross-exam without setting him off.
"You don’t like the defendant, do you, Mr. La Russa?"
"No. I don’t like her."
"Would you like to see her convicted of killing your buddy?"
"If she did it."
"You were fired from Prize’s, is that right?"
"That is under litigation," La Russa said. Riesner began to uncoil.
"Why were you fired?" Nina asked.
"Objection. Irrelevant," Hallowell said.
Milne didn’t seem to know what to do with the objection. He, too, was watching Riesner. "Overruled," he said finally. "You may answer."
La Russa nodded. "I refuse to answer on grounds that it may tend to incriminate me."
"You’re taking the Fifth Amendment?"
"That’s what he said," Riesner interposed.
"Okay, Mr. La Russa, isn’t it true that you and Mr. Patterson had a business relationship independent of the casino?"
"I refuse to answer on grounds it may tend to criminate— I mean incriminate me."
"And wasn’t your business to conspire to defraud the casino by permitting a known card counter to gamble there, against policy, and then splitting the profits?"
"I refuse to answer on grounds it may incriminate me."
Nina was enjoying herself. "And didn’t you yourself have a falling out with Mr. Patterson because he wanted a larger share of the profits?"
La Russa wanted to say no, but Riesner was shaking his head. "I refuse to answer on grounds it may tend to incriminate me."
"Perhaps you murdered him?" Nina said. She felt possessed by some wicked force that was saying, push it to the limit. Riesner glared at her.
"Hey, wait a second! Not me," La Russa said loudly.
"How can we know that, if you won’t even talk about the deal?"
"Objection. Counsel’s arguing with the witness."
"Sustained."
"Anthony was jealous of his wife’s relationships, isn’t that so?"
"Very jealous. He had reason."
"Did he threaten or harm any of the men he was jealous of?"
"I wouldn’t know about that," La Russa said.
"Isn’t it true that on the day Anthony Patterson died, you presented him with a Security videotape taken when he was off shift?"
La Russa knew exactly what she was talking about. "Yes."
"And what was on that tape?"
"The casino boss, Stephen Rossmoor, and her saying good-bye in front of his suite, that’s what."
"She was coming out of the suite?"
"Yes."
"And she was showing some affection?"
"She had her hand clamped on his balls and her tongue down his throat," La Russa said loudly, looking pleased with himself.
"What was Mr. Patterson’s reaction?"
La Russa gave a small laugh. "I didn’t stay for the whole show."
"Did he threaten Mr. Rossmoor?"
La Russa had finally seen where she was going. He made haste to head her off. "Not really."
"Did you consider, when yo
u gave him that tape, that you might be putting Mr. Patterson’s life in danger?"
"No! It was the other way around. Rossmoor’s, maybe."
"You mean Mr. Patterson might go after Mr. Rossmoor? Did you stop to think Mr. Rossmoor might then decide to remove Mr. Patterson as a threat?" She waited for the objection.
"Calls for speculation," Collier said. "There’s no evidence ..."
"Counsel, do you want to approach the bench?"
"It’s all right, Your Honor. I withdraw the question," Nina said, leaving the jury with rich new lines of thought to ponder that evening.
"Oh. By the way, Mr. La Russa. What kind of cigarettes did Mr. Patterson smoke, if any?"
"Camels. No filter."
"Thank you, sir."
La Russa and Jeffrey Riesner walked down the aisle together in their suits like ushers at a wedding, Riesner casting a condescending look at Nina as he walked by, a look that said, you can’t even keep me out of your trial.
"It’s drawing near the close of the day," Milne said. "I’d like to meet with counsel at eight-thirty tomorrow. Court is adjourned until nine o’clock tomorrow."
Nina gathered up her papers. The adrenaline stopped propping her up and she felt faint with exhaustion. Paul and Michelle helped her pack up and carry her files to the Bronco.
"See you tonight?" Paul said.
"I’m sorry...."
"Okay, get your rest," he said. "It only gets harder. I enjoyed the show today."
"How’m I doing, Paul?"
"Hallowell’s case is a mess," Paul said.
"Yeah, but the confession’s going to come in tomorrow."
"You’ll think of something," he said, hopping in his van and taking off.
Michelle was fitting herself stomach-first into her own car. "This baby wants to go beddy-bye," she said. "So I’ll be getting on back to the shelter."
"See you tomorrow," Nina said.
Michelle spoke over her shoulder. "I wish you hadn’t trashed Steve like that."
"I had to."
Michelle drove away.
29
NINA WOKE UP slowly. Pressure and lack of sleep had saddled her with a massive headache. Three aspirins and a cup of coffee later, she trundled her files through the courtroom halls.
Until now, she had not carried the burden of going forward in the trial. Hallowell had set the scenes, built the framework, taken all the responsibility. Her job had been merely to limit the damage.
Today Collier Hallowell would rest his case.
Now the defense would step forward to persuade the jury not to convict. She was going to give Hallowell the confession.
The prosecution already had enough evidence to take the case to a jury with a good chance of a murder conviction. Dr. Clauson’s testimony that an hour had elapsed before the second blow was struck added up to a possible verdict of premeditated murder—life in prison for Michelle.
Michelle had told Oskel and Higuera that she couldn’t remember what happened after going into the kitchen. The jury was unlikely to buy this statement.
Yet Nina could not explain Michelle’s statement without going into Michelle’s mental state that night. And the Court of Appeals had ruled that Bruno’s tape could then be used by the prosecution to rebut her explanation.
If Michelle was convicted of murder after Nina allowed the tape to come in, Nina knew she would be publicly condemned as completely incompetent. She would have to pack up and skulk away; she wouldn’t be able to pay somebody to be her client. The prudent thing to do was not to make a bad situation worse.
But she had decided to take the risk. There was no other way to introduce doubt into the minds of the jurors. Maybe if the jury knew everything she had learned, they would believe Michelle. If not, maybe they would decide Anthony had been killed in the heat of passion, and Michelle would then be convicted of manslaughter, not murder.
The defense strategy was so dicey, Nina wished with all her heart she had not had to make the choice. But Michelle agreed with it. "Let it all come out," she had said. So they would embrace the facts, not hide them; trust the jurors, and hope they would be just.
Milne had called the lawyers in early. The only people in the courtroom were Milne, the clerk and stenographer, the bailiff, Hallowell, herself, and oh, she had hoped yesterday was his last day here, Jeffrey Riesner, bathed in musky aftershave. She would gag for the rest of her life whenever she smelled it. What was he up to now? She didn’t think she could handle one more complication.
Riesner was staring at her again. He was like the school bully who comes right up to the new kid and pokes him in the eye. He couldn’t leave her alone.
Some people she liked on sight. Some she had to get to know first. A few, like Jeffrey Riesner, aroused a chemical antipathy in her. It wasn’t just the physical intimidation of his big, ropy body, his coarse-featured face and heavy jaw. No, he riled the primitive female in her just by being him. Strange how the same chemistry that repelled her seemed to arouse an irresistible need in him to engage and defeat her. He would have hit on her, crudely, if she met him in a bar, and would have called her a bad name when she rejected him. Here in the courtroom, hemmed in by the rules, unable to approach her directly, he still sent out waves of hostile aggression.
Milne was talking. She focused her thoughts on him with difficulty.
"All right, Counsel, we have several matters on the record before the jury comes in this morning. Ms. Reilly, I understand you have a motion to dismiss this case. We have to talk about how this confession will be brought in. We should go over the witnesses the defense now knows it intends to produce. That’s if you still intend to rest your case, Collier."
Hallowell nodded. "As soon as the jury comes in." He looked fresh and confident. It was his turn to take potshots.
"Let’s do the motion to dismiss. Ms. Reilly?"
Nina made her pitch. When the prosecution rested its case, the defense could ask that the case be thrown out on grounds that, as a matter of law, there was so little evidence that the case should not go to the jury. It was a formal motion, for the record on appeal. Milne was not going to take it upon himself to wrest this case from the jury. Ample evidence to convict Michelle existed, even without the confession. "Request the Court grant defendant’s motion. Thank you, Your Honor."
Hallowell stood up and ran through the main points he had made; Michelle had motive, opportunity, and means to commit the crime. Milne nodded his head.
"Motion denied," he announced in a perfunctory voice. "Now, Ms. Reilly, you have said in your opening statement that you are going to explain your client’s mental state at or near the time of the murder. As we all know, that opens the door to the taped statement. Have the two of you worked out when and how that’s going to come in? I don’t want any wrangling in front of the jury."
"We haven’t talked about it, Judge," Hallowell said. "I could wait until Ms. Reilly has put on all her witnesses and rested for the defense, make it part of my rebuttal. But it seems to me the easiest way to bring it in is on my cross-examination of Dr. Cervenka. I see he is listed as the first witness for the defense. He can authenticate the tape." His look at her was too personal, maybe hinting just slightly at pity. She faced the judge.
"Any problem with that?" Milne said.
"What about this? I’ll bring it in in my direct examination of Dr. Cervenka," Nina said.
"You’re willing to bring in your client’s confession as part of your case?" Milne said. He seemed to be trying to give her a chance to back away.
"Yes."
Hallowell gave her a quick, incredulous glance. Riesner smirked.
Milne pushed his glasses up on his nose and said, "So be it."
"Regarding defense witnesses, Your Honor, the Court and Counsel have our list, subject to rebuttal or some special circumstance," Nina said. The list wasn’t very long. Bruno, Barbara Tengstedt, and Dr. Greenspan, today and continuing into tomorrow; then Tom Clarke, Janine Clarke, Steve Rossmoor, Carl Tengstedt,
and Al Otis. She had not yet decided whether to put Michelle on the stand. "They have all been subpoenaed and told to report to court this morning. I expect I will ask some of them to be denominated hostile witnesses."
"You think you can get through your psychiatric expert today?" Hallowell asked.
"If your cross-examination is reasonable," she told him. "But it will be tight. We may well go into tomorrow with Dr. Greenspan."
"Very well," Milne said. "Now, Mr. Riesner, I see you have brought us some papers."
"Yes, Your Honor. I represent Dr. Frederick Greenspan, who is under subpoena to appear today. While I realize that because he is the treating doctor of the defendant, his testimony may be needed, I request that his testimony be strictly limited."
"In what manner?"
"Ms. Reilly’s defense is going to consist of slandering as many of these witnesses as possible. It is my information that she is going to attempt to impeach her own witness, Dr. Greenspan. She is going to accuse him of malpractice. That may or may not be actionable in a civil suit, since the testimony will be taken in court, but it is certainly preventable by the protective order we request."
"It wouldn’t be the first time that defense has been used," Milne said. "So. Ms. Reilly, do you intend to imply that Dr. Greenspan drove her to it? You wouldn’t be thinking he hypnotized her into murder?"
"No. I only ask that Dr. Greenspan tell the jury about her problems and how he attempted to treat them. I do intend to point out that he is not a qualified psychotherapist."
"See, Judge?’’ Riesner said. "She’s going to try to drag this respected physician through the dirt. She doesn’t care who she hurts so long as she gets the jury confused. If she goes after my client, she should know I’m going to go after her."
Milne looked unimpressed. He scanned the papers again, then said, "Okay. I’m going to order, Ms. Reilly, that you ask no question and elicit no answer that would tend to indicate some kind of malpractice by Dr. Greenspan. That includes implying things. You say you have no evidence, so no innuendos, is that understood?"
"Yes, Your Honor."
"However, I see no reason why the jury should not understand the doctor’s qualifications fully and fairly. I am not going to order that you refrain from discussing his qualifications."
"Thank you, Your Honor."
"All right. Let’s get moving."
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