by Marti Green
“I’m not sure.”
“Take a guess.”
“Maybe seven hundred thousand.”
“So, you had a house worth seven hundred thousand, and bank accounts with at least two million, and you left the marriage with approximately half of that, isn’t that correct?”
“I suppose.”
“So who got the fourteen million in the Belize bank?”
“Quince.”
“Mrs. Michaels, you got half of everything else. Do you expect us to believe you walked away from seven million dollars?”
Ellen sat up straighter and narrowed her eyes at Murdoch. “I didn’t want any of that money.”
“Very noble of you. By the way, you’re very fond of Molly Singer, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“In fact, aren’t you her godmother?”
“Yes.”
“You’d like to see her free, wouldn’t you?”
“Of course. I don’t believe she killed her parents. But I’m not lying. Quince did have that back account.”
“So you say. No other questions. You can step down.”
“Call your next witness,” Judge Bryson said.
“I call Lisa Michaels.”
A court officer stationed by the back door opened it and called her name. Lisa Michaels sauntered into the courtroom. Her skintight black dress was in stark contrast to the matronly flowered dress worn by Quince’s first wife. Large gold hoops hung from her ears, and a gold necklace with a diamond pendant was draped around her neck. Dani saw Murdoch’s mouth drop open as Lisa sashayed by, and stifled a smile.
“State your name for the record please,” Dani said.
“Lisa Michaels.”
“And are you any relation to Quince Michaels?”
“I was his second wife and, as of six weeks ago, his widow.”
“When did you marry?”
“Seven years ago.”
“Where did you live when you married Mr. Michaels?”
“I moved into his house.”
“And where is that?”
“Miami Beach.”
“Would you describe that house?”
“Sure. Four bedrooms, four bathrooms, living room, dining room, media room, exercise room. Oh, and a kitchen.”
Dani smiled at the mention of a kitchen. She doubted that Lisa Michaels spent much time cooking meals. “Would you describe the plot of land it’s on?”
“A half acre on the intercoastal.”
“Do you know the value of the property?”
“I would guess seven or eight million.”
“Did Mr. Michaels ever discuss with you how he paid for it?”
As expected, Murdoch popped up with the same “hearsay” objection, and once again the judge reserved decision until after briefs were filed.
“I never questioned him about it, until a few weeks ago, after your investigator, Tom Noorland, met with him.” Lisa went on to describe her conversation with Quince and his admission that he and Joe defrauded Hudson County out of the money.
Dani marked a copy of the partnership agreement for MS Assets, as well as the bank records from Allegiance Bank in Belize, as exhibits and submitted them. “Were these records obtained from your husband’s file cabinets in your house?”
“Yes. After his death, I went through all his records.”
“Just one more question. How did your husband die?”
“He was murdered.”
Dani thanked Lisa Michaels then walked back to her table.
“Just a few questions,” Murdoch said as he stood and walked toward the witness. “You said that your husband was murdered. How did he die?”
“He was on his boat and it exploded.”
“Did the coast guard investigate that explosion?”
“Yes. They said that someone tampered with the gas line and that’s why it exploded.”
“And did their report conclude that it was a homicide?”
Lisa bent her head down, then said softly, “They said his death was suspicious. Because they couldn’t rule out he’d tampered with it himself.” She lifted her head and spoke with a firm voice. “But he wasn’t suicidal. Someone did this to kill him.”
“Was anyone arrested in connection with his death?”
“No.”
“Did you and your husband usually keep secrets from each other?”
“I didn’t have any secrets. And I never thought Quince did.”
“Prior to Mr. Noorland’s visit to your husband, did he ever tell you about this alleged theft?”
“No.”
“And wasn’t your husband Molly’s godfather?”
“I believe so.”
“Isn’t it possible that Mr. Noorland convinced him to make up this story to free Molly from prison?”
“I doubt it.”
“But you don’t know with absolute certainty, do you?”
Lisa looked directly into Murdoch’s eyes. With a clear voice, she answered, “What I know with absolute certainty is that my husband was frightened, and a week later he was dead.”
“Nonresponsive,” Murdoch muttered, then, “I have no further questions of this witness.” As Lisa left the witness chair Murdoch said, “Your Honor, I move to strike the testimony of the previous two witnesses. The State of New York did a thorough audit of the jail finances and found no wrongdoing. These witnesses have no direct knowledge other than what was purportedly told them by the defendant’s godfather. It’s not only hearsay, but this court must give deference to the findings of the State.”
Dani stood up. “I believe my next witness will answer the objections of Mr. Murdoch.”
Bryson nodded. “Go ahead and call him.”
“Saul Delinsky.”
Once again, the routine was followed. The court officer opened the door to the hallway and called his name. The sound of footsteps and conversations from outside intruded on the silence of the courtroom. Delinsky stepped inside, the door closed behind him, and quiet returned. He lumbered up to the witness chair and was sworn in.
“Mr. Delinsky, please state your profession,” Dani said.
“I’m a forensic accountant.”
“By whom are you employed?”
“I’m semiretired now. I work for myself.”
“And before you retired?”
“I worked for the FBI for thirty years as a forensic accountant.”
“Please describe your duties.”
“I would go over accounting records and look for evidence of illegal financial activity. I worked as part of an investigation team. My specific expertise was in matters of fraud.”
“And during the course of your thirty years with the FBI, how many investigations were you part of?”
“Over three hundred.”
“Were you asked to review the financial records relating to the construction of the Hudson County jail?”
“Yes. By a member of your office.”
“And how did you obtain those records?”
“They were provided to me by the State of New York. They gave me copies of all the materials they had for their own audit of the jail finances.”
“And did you reach a conclusion as to whether there had been any illegal financial activity?”
“I did.” Delinsky went on to describe the methods used to overbill the county by $35.3 million.
“The state audit didn’t uncover any discrepancies. Can you explain that?”
“Their auditors aren’t trained in forensic accounting. And the perpetrators were extremely skillful in covering their fraud.”
“Thank you. I have no more questions. At this time, Your Honor, I’d like to submit as an exhibit Mr. Delinsky’s report.”
Murdoch stood up. “I have no questions of th
is witness, but I reserve the right to call him later.”
Dani wasn’t surprised. Delinsky’s credentials were impeccable and his report thorough. Murdoch would be hard pressed to find any holes in it.
“Counselors, this seems like a good time for a lunch break,” Judge Bryson said. “We’ll reconvene in ninety minutes.”
Dani and Melanie found a luncheonette a few doors away from the courthouse. “I think it’s going well,” Melanie said.
“I do, too. We got in everything we needed.” Dani surprised herself. Usually, she came away from court proceedings filled with doubt about the outcome. Now she was eager to get back in the afternoon and continue with her witnesses.
“What do you think he’ll do on the hearsay exception?”
“I don’t know. The law is on our side, and so far he’s seemed fair. Having heard the testimony, I think it’ll be hard for him to throw it out.”
They finished their lunch, the food more gourmet than they’d expected from the barren decor. Dani knew, though, that the Culinary Institute of America, which trained student chefs, wasn’t far away. She suspected the owner of the little restaurant was a graduate.
They strolled down the street, gazing into the storefront windows of antique and art shops until it was time to head back to the court. Their next witness was waiting for them in the courthouse lobby.
“You’ll be the first one up when we reconvene,” Dani told him. “I really appreciate you coming here.”
“I feel it’s my duty,” the white-haired man said. “I’ve been troubled by my role for twelve years.”
Dani patted his arm. “Then I’m glad you’ll have the chance to help.”
The three headed into the courtroom and waited for the judge to return. Once he retook the bench and told Dani to proceed, she called Tony Winslow to the witness chair.
After the preliminary questions—name, address, occupation—Dani asked, “Were you a juror for the trial of Molly Singer twelve years ago?”
Murdoch shot out of his seat and shouted, “Objection.”
“Grounds?” Bryson asked.
“Relevance. Anything a juror from Singer’s trial has to say bears no relation to whether there are grounds for a new trial.”
“On the contrary,” Dani said. “It’s directly on point as to whether the new evidence we submitted had the probability to change the outcome of that trial. Who better to answer that question than a juror from that trial?”
Bryson rubbed his chin. “This is a new one for me. I’ll allow the testimony subject to a ruling later on the objection.”
Dani turned back to the witness. “Please answer the question.”
“Yes, I was a juror.”
“Would you describe the deliberations in the jury room?”
“Well, on the first vote, it was eight guilty and four not guilty. I was one of the four. I voted that way because I thought we needed more discussion.”
“And did a discussion ensue?”
“More like an argument. Most of the jurors thought there was no need to go beyond the confession. I mean, why would someone confess to a crime they didn’t commit?”
“And did you feel that way?”
“I have to admit, that confession was pretty persuasive. But she was just a kid. That bothered me. And I didn’t really see any motive for her killing her parents.”
“How long did the deliberations last?”
“Five hellish days, pardon the language. By the end, everyone just wanted to get out of there. Finally, those of us still holding out—and it was down to three at that point—figured if she confessed, she was guilty of something. So we went along. It’s bothered me all these years, though, her being so young, and pregnant on top of that.”
“If you heard evidence that her father had defrauded the county out of seven million dollars, that others had done the same, for a total of thirty-five million dollars, and if you heard that Joe Singer had been thinking of telling the authorities about his and the others’ theft, would that have changed your vote?”
Winslow sat up straight in his seat. With a loud voice, he answered, “You bet it would have. That would be a powerful motive for someone to kill him, to shut him up. I never would have changed my vote if I’d heard about that.”
“Thank you. I have no other questions.”
Murdoch walked slowly up to the witness.
“You said you’ve been bothered since the trial about your vote.”
“Sure have.”
“I’m sure all of us wish we had do-overs in life. Aren’t you here today to give yourself a do-over?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, isn’t it true that even if no other motive were presented, you’d still wish you’d voted differently?”
“I suppose that’s true.”
Murdoch turned to Judge Bryson. “Your Honor, I repeat my objection as to relevance. Many jurors regret their decision afterwards, both those who choose to convict and those who choose to acquit. It’s pure speculation for this juror to now say his position would have been different with new information about the jail. Faced with the defendant’s confession, it’s likely he would have done the same. I move to strike his testimony.”
“Your Honor,” Dani countered, “what greater proof can there be that had this evidence been available at trial, the result would have been more favorable to the defendant. It’s highly relevant.”
Judge Bryson looked at both advocates, scribbled something on a piece of paper, then said, “I have to agree with the State. The statute looks at what a reasonable person would think, not a specific juror. This witness brings baggage with him that may be clouding his judgment. His testimony is stricken.”
Dani fumed. How could the judge have dismissed the testimony so cavalierly? Shouldn’t she at least have been given the opportunity to brief the issue? “Preserve for appeal,” she muttered to the court reporter.
Murdoch smiled broadly, then moved closer to the bench. “It’s clear to me that, unless Ms. Trumball is prepared to offer definitive proof that a specific individual or individuals has committed the crime, everything we’ve heard so far is too nebulous to overcome the weight of the defendant’s confession. I move that the hearing be concluded and defendant’s motion denied.”
Dani turned from glaring at Murdoch to face the judge. “Your Honor, I’m not finished with my witnesses. I promise it won’t take much longer.”
Bryson sighed. “Go ahead, then.”
“I call Derek Deegan.”
The door to the hallway opened and a heavy man in his mid-forties, with coal-black hair and a handlebar mustache, slowly walked to the witness box.
“What is your profession Mr. Deegan?”
“I am a professor of law at Harvard Law School, where I teach criminal law. I have studied, and published numerous papers on, the issue of wrongful convictions. My research has included the phenomenon of false confessions.”
“Have you reviewed the files, including the confession, in Miss Singer’s case?”
“I have.”
“And have you reached any conclusions?”
“First, let me explain that since Ms. Singer’s conviction, a great deal has been learned about false confessions. Through examining those individuals whose convictions have been overturned as a result of DNA evidence, and who had confessed to the crime, studies have shown that the police telling a suspect false evidence exists is a common thread.”
“And was such a tactic used with Ms. Singer?”
“Yes. The police informed her that they had conclusive evidence tying her to the crime.”
“And that was sufficient to induce a false confession?”
“That’s the first step. The second is to provide the defendant with a reason why they don’t remember committing the crime. In Ms. Singer’s case, she had taken Ambie
n the night of the murders. The police convinced her that she didn’t remember murdering her parents because of the drug.”
“Ms. Singer recanted soon after. Is that common?”
“Yes, most defendants who have been persuaded to confess through the use of such tactics recant once they’re away from the interrogators.”
“Thank you, Mr. Deegan.” Dani turned to Murdoch. “Your witness.”
Murdoch stood but stayed by his table. “To your knowledge, do police often tell a defendant they have incriminating evidence when they don’t?”
“Yes, that’s fairly common.”
“And does that always result in the suspect admitting to a crime he didn’t commit?”
“Of course not.”
“And do criminals who confess to a crime and are truly guilty sometimes recant afterwards?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you. I have no further questions.”
“Is that it, Ms. Trumball?” Judge Bryson asked.
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“Mr. Murdoch, do you have any witnesses?” Judge Bryson asked.
“No, Your Honor. I’m satisfied that the defendant has failed to meet the heavy burden she has to show entitlement to a new trial.”
“Okay, then. Ms. Trumball, file your brief on why you think a hearsay exception applies by one week from today, and Mr. Murdoch, yours will be due a week after that. Include in your briefs any other arguments you wish to make about the evidence heard here today.”
“Yes, Your Honor,” they both said in unison. And with that, the hearing was over.
CHAPTER
32
By the time Melanie and Dani left the courthouse, it was dark. Daylight savings time had ended a week earlier and the cool chill signaled that winter wasn’t far away. They walked in silence to the municipal parking lot two blocks away, the only sounds the clicking of their heels on the sidewalk. The confidence Dani felt over lunch had dissipated. Left was an uneasy feeling that she had failed her client.
Judge Bryson hadn’t asked for a summation—a marshaling of the evidence that favored granting their client a new trial—at the end of the hearing. “Put it in your brief,” he’d said. Dani knew that was never as effective as standing before a judge and describing why all the evidence she’d presented led to only one conclusion. The written word didn’t carry the same emotional punch.