Presumption of Guilt

by Marti Green

“I’m here for a favor.”

  “Spill. If I can help, I will.”

  Dani told him about the anonymous letters, the discovery of an offshore account opened by Joe Singer and Quince Michaels, and the results of their forensic accountant’s investigation.

  “Shouldn’t this go to the DA’s office in Hudson County?”

  “We don’t know who else was on the take. We’re suspicious of the county executive. For all we know, the DA or a top assistant in that office was part of the scheme as well.”

  “Then how about the state attorney general?”

  “I suppose. But the state did an audit of the jail finances and okayed it. I’m worried that they’d be embarrassed that they missed what really went on. Or, worse, that someone in that department deliberately covered it up.”

  Josh glanced over the documents Dani had given him. “Hold on. Let me check something.” He turned to his computer and punched a few keys, then read the chart on the screen. After a few more clicks, he turned back to Dani. “You’re in luck. The federal government had a grant program between 1997 and 2002 for construction of local jails and prisons. New York State received some of that grant money, and it looks like a piece of it was allocated to Hudson County when it built its jail. Since they used money from the federal government, we have jurisdiction to investigate any funny business. I’ll assign someone to look into this. I can’t promise that we’ll have something for you quickly, but I’ll keep you in the loop if we find anything.”

  “Thanks, Josh. You’re a prince. Just one other thing.”

  Josh raised his eyebrows.

  “It’s important your inquiry remain secret. The others, the ones who stole money as well—they can’t know we’re sniffing around until we know for sure who they are.”

  “Understood.”

  Before leaving the building, Dani made the rounds of the other offices to say hello to her former colleagues. She then headed back to HIPP, ready to start work on a motion for a new hearing for Molly Singer—the first step in her quest for freedom.

  CHAPTER

  29

  Dani and Melanie had spent the week putting together the motion papers. When they were satisfied with their product, it was electronically filed with the County Court in Hudson County and a copy was served on the district attorney’s office. Now they needed to wait for the court to assign a hearing date.

  Dani decided to leave the office early. It had been only three weeks since she’d come out of her coma. Although her ribs were healing, fatigue hit her each day as the hours wore on. She retrieved her car from the parking lot, then headed east to pick up the FDR Drive northbound. She exited for the Triboro Bridge toward the Bronx, the route she took to her home in Bronxville, a leafy Westchester County suburb an easy commute from Manhattan. She meant to get off the Sprain Brook Parkway at her exit, but somehow she drifted past it and kept driving until she realized she was near the Bedford Hills Correctional Facility. She left the highway and drove over to the prison, showed her attorney’s credentials, then waited. Before long, she was escorted to an interview room.

  “I didn’t expect you today,” Molly said when she was brought into the room.

  Dani smiled. “I didn’t expect to be here today. But I was nearby and thought I’d drop in to see how you’re doing.”

  Suddenly, tears welled up and some escaped down Molly’s cheeks.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Noth-nothing. “She wiped the drops away with the back of her hand. “I’m happy, really, I am.”

  “Tell me, what’s going on?”

  “Sophie came to visit me.”

  Now Dani understood. Molly had to feel overwhelmed by conflicting emotions. Joy at seeing her daughter, heartsick at her absence.

  “She’s so beautiful,” Molly continued. “And she seemed so sad. I wanted to put my arms around her and hug her, but of course I couldn’t. I couldn’t even hold her hand.” Molly began crying, copiously now. Dani searched through her purse and handed her a tissue.

  “Th-thank you,” she said between sobs.

  When she’d finally cried herself out, Dani asked, “Why did she come? I mean, she hasn’t seen you since she was a toddler.”

  “Finn brought her. Oh, it was horrible. I thought it was the right thing to give her up, let Kim be her mother. Wasn’t that better than having a mother in prison? But she told me things Kim said to her that were so mean. I hate that woman.”

  “I’m sorry. Can you speak to Finn about it?”

  “If Finn cared, he would have come himself.”

  “Maybe he brought Sophie here because he does care.”

  “Maybe. There’s no way for me to know. I’m so cut off from everyone and everything. I’ve gotten used to it. I go about my work and don’t bother anyone. I stopped wanting more a long time ago. But now, with you here and trying to open my case, with Sophie so unhappy, it’s changed. I want to be free. I want to have a life. I want my daughter.”

  Driving home, Dani understood why she’d absentmindedly drifted toward the women’s prison. Ever since leaving the US Attorney’s Office, her workplace for so many years, she’d pushed aside gnawing feelings of regret. If, once she’d returned to work after her years at home with Jonah, she’d gone back to that office, she’d be in a senior position now. She’d have all the resources of the United States government at her disposal. She’d prosecute criminals that wreaked havoc on the populace, and she’d have automatic respect in courtrooms and among friends and acquaintances. As a lawyer for HIPP, she was often held in disrepute. She was a lawyer trying to free criminals, putting them back on the street to kill and rape and pillage once again. No matter how often she tried to explain that she represented people she believed to be innocent, whom further investigation or DNA proved were innocent, beyond any doubt, there lingered a sense that she relied on legal technicalities to overturn convictions. Police didn’t make mistakes. And if they did, jurors corrected those mistakes. Twelve men and women who found guilt beyond a reasonable doubt couldn’t be wrong.

  Dani knew they were mistaken. Jurors only heard evidence that the prosecuting and defense attorneys offered and the judge permitted. Many times other evidence wasn’t known to the parties, or allowed by the judge. Like with Molly’s case. No one knew then that Joe Singer had stolen money from the jail project. No one knew that others wanted to keep him quiet about it. If jurors had heard about it, Dani felt certain they would have had reasonable doubt that Molly Singer, barely eighteen and pregnant, had ruthlessly murdered her parents.

  Sitting with Molly today, all her lingering regrets that she hadn’t returned to work at the US Attorney’s Office vanished, replaced with a renewed desire to grant this mother’s wish. Dani would do everything she could to free her from prison and reunite her with her daughter.

  CHAPTER

  30

  Dani and Melanie had been summoned to Bruce’s office. “We have a hearing date for the Singer case,” he told them when they arrived. “It’s in three weeks.”

  “Who’s the judge?” Dani asked.

  “Bryson. He’s the chief judge there. I don’t know whether he was next on rotation or he took it out of rotation.” In courts throughout the country, cases were typically assigned to judges on a rotating basis. However, the chief justice of the court always had the option to assign the case to a justice other than the one next up.

  “Is that good or bad?” Melanie asked.

  “He was the trial judge on Molly’s case,” Dani said. “Sometimes the trial judge will want to stick with a case that’s returned because he believes the defendant got a raw deal from the jury. Other times it’s because he wants to make sure the defendant remains behind bars.”

  Melanie looked over at Dani. “What do you think the case is with this judge?”

  “Well, he sentenced Molly to two consecutive life terms instead of concurrent terms
. That’s pretty unusual, especially with someone who has no criminal record. And many of his rulings went against Molly. So, I’m inclined to think he falls into the latter category.”

  “Ugh! That’s not good.”

  “Where’s the US attorney on this?” Bruce asked.

  “Nothing back from them yet. They’re trying to track down the owners of the three other companies. Whoever they are, they’ve set up quite a labyrinth. Each company is owned by several other companies. They haven’t gotten any further than that.”

  “Let them know the trial date,” Bruce said. “If we can learn something before then, it’ll be a big help. Your case is pretty skimpy so far.”

  “Well, skimpy for a trial on her guilt or innocence, maybe,” Dani said. “I think it’s pretty solid on showing grounds for a new trial.”

  “It’s suggestive, certainly. But you have to show that, had this evidence been introduced at her trial, there’s a probability that the verdict would have been different. I just don’t know that it rises to that level. Possibility—yes. Probability? I’m not sure.”

  “Why do you say that?” Melanie asked. “They had no real motive for Molly killing her parents. We’re presenting evidence of a powerful motive for someone else to have killed them.”

  Bruce leaned back in his seat and put his arms behind his head, a gesture he often made when he knew he was right. “Because of her confession. Jurors have a hard time overlooking a confession. Even when it’s recanted, it’s still out there.”

  “Five of our overturned convictions were based on false confessions,” Dani pointed out. “Why do you think this is different?”

  “Because we had DNA evidence in those cases that proved our client was innocent. I told you at the outset this would be a difficult case.”

  Dani knew Bruce was right. They had a huge hurdle to overcome. In the eyes of jurors, a confession trumped all other evidence, including lack of evidence. “I think I’ve got that aspect covered, but I just had another idea. I don’t know if it’ll work. I need to call Molly’s lawyer first.”

  Their meeting over, Dani headed back to her office and telephoned Bob McDonald. When he got on the phone, she asked, “Bob, how long were the jurors out on Molly’s case?”

  “If I remember correctly, it was quite a while. Hold on a sec. Let me grab her file.” A few minutes later, he returned to the phone. “Just what I thought. It took them five days to come back with a verdict.”

  “Did you poll the jurors afterwards?”

  “Sure. It was her confession that swayed them.”

  “But why, then, did it take them five days?”

  “There were four people on the jury who had a hard time believing this girl, who’d never been in trouble before, suddenly went psycho. They had teenagers themselves and knew that complaining about parents was common behavior. Gradually, they just got worn down by the others.”

  “Do you have the names of those four?”

  “Let me see.” Dani could hear pages in the file being turned. “Yep. Do you need them?”

  Dani felt a surge of excitement. If this panned out, it could be just the testimony she’d need to lock up her motion. “E-mail it to me, okay? And their addresses, too, if you have it.”

  “Consider it done.”

  Dani thanked him and got off the phone. Fifteen minutes later her in-box held the e-mail from Bob. She opened it up, then buzzed Tommy’s desk with her intercom.

  “What’s up, boss?”

  “I need you to try and track down four people. I’m forwarding an e-mail to you with their names.”

  “Got it.”

  Dani hung up, then smiled. Things were coming together nicely. She felt cautiously optimistic that she’d get a new trial for Molly Singer.

  CHAPTER

  31

  The county court building in Andersonville was a plain brick building without any distinguishing features, sandwiched in between nondescript retail stores and restaurants. Dani and Melanie had already introduced themselves to Eric Murdoch, the assistant district attorney opposing their motion for a new trial, and were now seated at the defendant’s table in the front of the courtroom. Molly had been brought up from the state prison and sat in the prisoner’s box, an armed guard next to her. She remained in her orange jumpsuit, shackles still binding her hands and feet.

  The bailiff announced the entry of Chief Judge Alan Bryson. The parties stood as he walked, his shoulders thrust back and head erect, to his place behind the massive desk on a raised platform, then sat once the judge had taken his chair. Dani knew from her research that he was fifty-two, but he looked older, with his silver-white hair and deeply lined face. He couldn’t have been mistaken for someone’s jolly grandfather, though. His eyes were a steely gray that seemed to bore into her. There was no jury. It was solely Judge Bryson who would decide whether Molly’s conviction should be vacated.

  “The People of the State of New York versus Molly Singer,” called out the bailiff in a loud voice, even though he knew the only people in the courtroom were the ones assembled for that case.

  Dani stood up. “Dani Trumball for the defendant.”

  “Eric Murdoch for the State.”

  “I want to remind you, Ms. Trumball, that what you’re seeking under section 440 is extraordinary relief, and you have a high burden. I hope you’re not here to waste my time.”

  Okay, Dani thought. If she’d had any doubts, it was now clear he wasn’t going to be sympathetic to her defendant. “Understood, Your Honor. We believe a grave miscarriage of justice has occurred, and new evidence that only recently came to light will confirm that.”

  “Enough of the grandstanding. Call your first witness.”

  “I call Ellen Michaels to the stand.”

  Ellen Michaels walked slowly from the back of the courtroom, as though she were on a funeral march. Dani knew she was uncomfortable testifying about something that would subject her to humiliation in the community in which she’d grown up. But she loved Molly Singer. If her testimony helped Molly win a new trial, she would bear the embarrassment.

  After Ellen was seated in the witness chair and sworn in by the bailiff, Dani approached the witness box. “Would you state your relationship to Quince Michaels?”

  “He was my husband. We divorced eleven years ago.”

  “And how long were you married?”

  “Twenty-two years.”

  “Are you familiar with Molly Singer?”

  “Yes. Quince and Joe Singer were partners in a construction business. I’ve known Molly her whole life.”

  “What was the name of their business?”

  “Building Pros Inc.”

  “Was Building Pros awarded the jail construction project by Hudson County, about fourteen years ago?”

  “Objection, Your Honor,” Eric Murdoch said as he slowly arose from his chair. “I fail to see the relevance of this line of questioning.”

  “Ms. Trumball?” asked the judge.

  “It will become clear very soon, Your Honor. If you’ll indulge me just a bit more.”

  “Okay, but make your point soon.”

  Dani turned back to Ellen Michaels. “Please answer the question.”

  “Yes. They built the Hudson County jail.”

  “And did there come a time when you learned from your husband that he defrauded the county by overcharging for the jail?”

  Murdoch shot back out of his chair. “Objection! This witness can’t testify to something told her by her husband. It’s barred by marital privilege.”

  Dani turned to the judge. “Mr. Michaels is now deceased and so marital privilege is no longer applicable.”

  “My objection stands. It’s also hearsay.”

  Both attorneys looked to the judge for his ruling.

  “The marital privilege doesn’t apply here. I’ll rule on
the hearsay objection after I hear what she has to say.”

  Dani nodded at Ellen to answer.

  “Yes. I found a statement from a bank in Belize addressed to him. There was fourteen million dollars in the account. I confronted Quince, and he told me the money was from the jail.”

  “Did he say this was the profit he’d expected to earn from building the jail?”

  “No. He told me he’d deliberately overcharged the county.”

  Murdoch stood up. “I renew my objection to this testimony. It’s clearly hearsay. Mr. Michaels isn’t here to confirm he made these remarks and to be cross-examined on them.”

  “Your Honor, this falls within an exception to the hearsay rule. The—”

  Judge Bryson held up his hand. “Don’t waste time on arguments now. Both of you give me briefs on it, and I’ll decide after the hearing.”

  “Do you have a copy of that bank statement?”

  “No, when we divorced, Quince took all of his business records.”

  “Thank you. I have no further questions.”

  “Your witness,” Judge Bryson said to Murdoch.

  Murdoch stood up and strode over to the bench. Despite his small stature and loosely fitted suit, his deep voice lent him an air of authority.

  “Mrs. Michaels, upon your divorce, were the assets acquired during the marriage divided between you?”

  Ellen shifted in her seat. “What do you mean?”

  “The house, the cars, the bank accounts, the value of the construction business, anything else of any worth. Were they divided equally between you and Mr. Michaels?”

  “Well, I got the house and the BMW. Quince paid me five thousand a month for two years. And I got some money.”

  “How much money?”

  “Seven hundred and fifty thousand.”

  Murdoch walked closer to Ellen. “And excluding this alleged bank account in Belize, how much money did you and your husband have in all other bank accounts?”

  “Two million, maybe a little more.”

  “Now, you said you got the house. How much was that worth when you divorced?”