Irrefutable (20 page)

“You won’t believe me.”

“Try us.” Martin said. Terrence Martin was a large, intimidating presence. He’d been a star linebacker for the Gators, with aspirations of an NFL career. He was known for his vicious hits on opposing quarterbacks. He played with the intensity of a runaway freight train, until a dirty hit took out his left knee.

“Have you watched my interview with Mr. Dupree, the suspect in the first two cases?” Alex said.

Phelps shook his head. “I haven’t seen it yet.”

“I saw the first half. It’s a slam dunk.” Martin said. “Fucker’s guilty as hell.”

“He claims that Janet Freeman, the SANE nurse, set him up.” Alex let out a long breath.

“Do you believe him?” Phelps leaned back in the chair and crossed his legs.

“I didn’t, but now I’m not sure.”

“Just how the hell did she do that?” Martin asked.

“Evidently they were seeing each other and he broke it off and she got pissed.” Alex paused, looking a Phelps for several moments. “She’s setting me up too.”

“How?”

Alex leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms and let out a sigh. “A little over a month ago, I went to The Loft for a few drinks.”

“What’s the loft?” Martin said.

“You know, that little club out by The Gardens. Anyway, I’m sitting at the bar minding my own business and Janet sits down beside me. We started talking and after a few drinks, we ended up at her place.”

“So…what, did she like save a condom or something?” Phelps said.

“I don’t think so. Not then anyway.”

“Why would she want to frame you?”

“After that night, I saw her a few more times, but I started feeling guilty, like I was cheating on my wife, so I broke it off.”

“And she wasn’t ready to end it?” Martin said.

“That’s an understatement.” Alex leaned forward and picked at the edge of the laminate table top with his thumbnail. “I mean, she has some issues, but I never thought she would go this far.”

“You do realize, if you can prove the setup, it’ll allow Dupree to walk.” Phelps said. “It’s automatic reasonable doubt. The DA wouldn’t even try the case.”

“You don’t think I’ve thought of that?”

“Where were you the night Ms. Blackwell was attacked?” Martin said.

“I was at home. The pager woke me up.”

“Can you verify that?”

“My daughter was there but she was asleep,” Alex said. “I left her a note telling her I had a call.”

“So she wouldn’t be able to say for sure what time you left.”

“No. But the attack was captured on video,” Alex said. “The images aren’t very clear, but I think you can easily see it’s not me.”

“How can you tell that?” Martin said.

“Tracy Blackwell is only like five foot five. The video shows the attacker to be only an inch or two taller.” Alex stood up. “I’m six-four. I think it would be obvious if you look at the video.”

“The video has been sent to the state crime lab.” Phelps said. “I’m not sure how long it will be before we get it back.”

“Okay, as far as the DNA, can you prove that Ms. Freeman planted it?” Martin said.

“I guess that would be difficult to prove, wouldn’t it?” Alex sighed. “But, you have two people in the same situation, saying they’re being set up.” Alex looked back and forth from Phelps to Martin. “Come on. You guys know me. You know I didn’t do this.”

Phelps nodded. “I know. But, until we can prove the evidence was planted, we have to go on what we do have.” Phelps looked down at the table. “I’m sorry Alex, but my hands are tied.”

_________

The cell was cold and lonely. Alex had never been claustrophobic, but the longer he sat, the closer the walls came to each other. The total dependence on others was the hardest part to deal with. He was no longer in control. These were unfamiliar circumstances.

The cell was cold and empty, except for the thin, stained mattress and wool blanket that had seen better days. The cinderblock walls offered little in the way of atmosphere. Alex looked at his wrist, but he didn’t have his watch. All of his jewelry had been taken, even his wedding ring. His belt, socks and shoes were taken from him. He paced, walking back and forth in the water soaked shower slippers that made a disgusting squishing sound with every step. He had nothing but his own thoughts. He wished the jailers could take them, but they were the only things he was allowed to keep.

He tried stay strong, but without success. Each positive, constructive thought was pushed out by visions of Carmen and Rachel, once again consoling each other. Telling each other how they would get through this.

At nine o’clock the cell went dark. Alex stretched out on the uncomfortable mattress and tried to push everything out of his head. He wanted sleep, to escape for a few hours, but sleep would not come, not tonight.

_________

The darkness of Alex’s cell was suddenly replaced by a blinding glare. “Detective, you have a visitor.” The voice was almost lost in the groan of the heavy cell door as it swung open.

Alex sat up and tried to focus. He could see the figure standing in the opening but couldn’t make out details. He stood slowly and followed the man to the interview room, his shoes making the squishing sound all the way.

Rachel sat at the small table. Her face was pale and her eyes were red, as if she’d been crying. “I know you don’t want to, but I think you need to see this.”

She slid a newspaper toward him as he sat down.

Alex turned the paper toward him. On the front page were two pictures: One, a distinguished looking man in a Dress Blue uniform with two medals around his neck, the other, a dejected, shame filled man with his name spelled out in plastic letters on a small black plaque. The headline was simple, only two words in letters over an inch tall,

Fallen Hero.

Below the headline was the slightly smaller, yet bold print that told the story.

Decorated detective charged in rape case as DNA evidence links him to victim.

Alex stared at the photos. His heart sank deeper than he had ever imagined possible. “Has Carmen seen this?”

“Not yet. She was asleep when I left her this morning.” Rachel looked down at the table. “But, it’s only a matter of time.”

Both sat, saying nothing. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead. He’d always been a private person. Now all his dirty laundry was in full public view, and it wasn’t even his laundry. He stared into space, biting his thumbnail.

“I’m worried about Carmen.” Rachel said as a tear rolled down her right cheek. “What will she have to endure at school? You know other kids won’t just let this go.”

“Let her stay out until this blows over.”

“Alex, this isn’t just going to blow over.” Rachel leaned toward Alex, “Even if you can prove your innocence, your image is going to be forever tarnished.”

Alex didn’t respond.

“You may be cleared of the charges, but you still put yourself in the position to be set up by sleeping with that lunatic.”

“Well, I don’t suppose there’s anything I can do about that now,” Alex said, looking down at the table. “I need to focus on things I
can
do something about.” He looked up at Rachel. “Have you talked to anyone yet?”

Rachel sat quietly for a moment, picking at the nail of her right thumb. “I’ve tried to talk to several attorneys. I haven’t had much luck. It’s like when they see me coming, they run the other way.” She didn’t look at Alex.

“I don’t suppose you could represent me?”

“Alex, I’m a prosecutor, not a defense attorney. Besides, even if I wanted to, there’s no way the DA would let me. I would have to resign my position. Then, after the case is over, I’d have to go into private practice and starve while I tried to build up a client list.”

“So, the answer is no?”

Rachel tried to smile at his attempt at humor. “I did find one person who’s willing to look at your case.”

“Who’s that?”

“His name is Peyton Mitchell. He’s young, but ambitious. He’s been waiting for a shot in a high profile case.”

“Do you trust him? I mean, is he good?”

“I’ve lost a couple of minor cases to him in the past.” Rachel tried to smile, “He needs to look good. He’ll do you right.”

“When will he see me?”

“First thing in the morning. He goes to church on Sundays. He doesn’t believe in working.” Rachel picked at a small chip on the edge of the table.

“Will you come with him?” Alex looked in her eyes, hoping to see his answer.

“It may be a conflict of interest, but I’ll ask.”

There was a long period of silence before Alex spoke. “How is Carmen holding up?”

“As well as can be expected, given the circumstances.”

“Have you talked to her?”

“What do you think?” Rachel said. “Of course I’ve talked to her. I told her that it’s all a big mistake and you will be cleared.”

“Did she believe it?”

“I don’t know. I hope so.”

“Do you believe it?” Alex said.

Rachel looked him in the eye, “I have to, don’t I?”

Chapter Twenty-Six

He had blue eyes, blonde hair and was unnaturally tan. To Alex, he looked like he should be on a surfboard. He couldn’t be more that a couple of years out of law school.
This is him? This is my only lifeline?
Alex felt his heart sink.

“Peyton Mitchell.” He offered his hand to Alex. It was soft and well manicured, but it did have a firm grip.

“Alex Mendez.” Alex returned the squeeze.

“I’m sure you were expecting someone a little older,” Peyton said, “But, what I lack in years, I make up for in enthusiasm.” He sat across the small table from Alex, opened his briefcase and produced a thin file folder. “This is the evidence against you.”

Alex looked at the folder then back at Peyton, but said nothing.

“It’s pretty thin, isn’t it?” He smiled at Alex, “Literally and figuratively.”

“What’s in there?” Alex knew but he wanted to hear it from the young man.

“This is one sheet of paper. It’s the DNA report on evidence taken from a Ms. Tracy Blackwell.” Peyton held up the paper. “Do you know her?”

“I met her in the exam room the night she was attacked.” Alex said, “I never saw her before or after that night.”

“What I need from you is simply the truth about your involvement in this case.” Peyton closed the small file, interlocked his fingers and looked at Alex.

“I just told you my involvement. I interviewed her after the assault.”

“Was that before or after the physical evidence was collected?”

“After.”

“And you had no contact with her prior to the exam being done?”

“None.”

“I understand that there was another suspect in the first two attacks. Is that right?”

“Yes.”

“And you personally conducted an interview with him?”

“That’s right.”

“What did he tell you?”

“He told me that the evidence must have been planted.”

“And what was your initial reaction to that?”

Alex drew in a deep breath and let out a long sigh. “I told him it was a little difficult to believe.”

“And yet, here you are, telling me the exact same story.” Peyton cocked his head sideways and smiled. “You’ve got to love the irony in that?”

“Forgive me if I don’t see the humor.” Alex frowned.

“Relax. I was just trying to lighten the mood.”

“The true irony,” Alex said, “is that my trusted friend could only find some wet behind the ears law student to hang my entire future on.”

“I’m not actually a student anymore,” Peyton said, “I graduated three months ago.”

Alex smiled. “I’m sorry. Nothing personal, you just have to understand it from my point of view.”

“Oh, I do understand Mr. Mendez. What I understand is that Ms. Summers asked just about everyone with a license to practice law and I was the only taker.”

“Yea, so what does that say about me?” Alex leaned forward, propped his elbows on the table and rested his forehead on his hands.

“It tells me that people are afraid of what they might find,” Peyton said. “This is a high profile case Mr. Mendez. A lawyer’s reputation would be on the line. That’s why I jumped at the opportunity. I don’t have a reputation yet. I need one. I need people to see that I won’t back down from a case, no matter what kind of evidence there is or how high profile it may be.” Peyton leaned forward and looked at Alex for a moment.

“Every accused has the right to a vigorous defense.” He leaned back in his chair. “So, in a way, both our futures depend on the outcome.”

Alex relaxed and looked him in the eye. “So, where do we start?”

“How about at the beginning?” Peyton said. “Tell me about your relationship with Ms. Freeman.”

Alex drew in a deep breath and rubbed his forehead with one hand. “I’ve known her for a little over four years. She had just moved here from somewhere. I don’t remember where, but she had only been here for a couple of months when I met her in the ER. I was there for a rape victim. She was doing the exam. She seemed immediately drawn to me for some reason. She started flirting and making advances and I told her I was happily married and that she was making me uncomfortable.”

“How did she respond?”

“She took it okay, I guess. She was still friendly enough after that, but the advances stopped.”

“So how did your relationship go after that?”

“Relationship?”

“You still saw her while in the performance of your duties, right?”

“I did.” Alex nodded. “It was shortly after that, when a series of attacks began.”

“And you were both involved in the investigation of those attacks?”

“Yes.”

“How many victims were there?”

“Seven, one of which died.”

“And who ended up being convicted of those rapes?”

“It was one of our firefighters.”

“Interesting,” Peyton said.

“What’s that?”

“A public servant. A hero.” Peyton gestured toward Alex. “And now look. Another public servant. A bona fide hero.”

“Yea, interesting.”

“And do you remember how the suspect was identified?”

“I think we got an anonymous tip from crime stoppers,” Alex said.

“And how did you match him to the victims?”

“Through DNA.”

“Did he consent to his DNA being taken?”

“Yes, if I remember correctly.”

Peyton wrote something in a legal pad. “And did you consent to your DNA being taken?”

“It’s taken as a condition of employment from all detectives and forensic technicians.”

“And why is that?”

“It’s used to identify possible contamination of evidence.”

“What does that mean?” Peyton stopped writing and looked at Alex.

“We have our DNA taken and our profile is entered into a data base. In the event that a crime scene is contaminated, or multiple DNA profiles are found, the investigators can be identified and eliminated.”

“Give me an example of a contamination.”

“If an investigator has a cold they could cough or sneeze, it could contaminate evidence.”

“I see,” Peyton said. “So, tell me your theory of how your semen found its way to the victim.”

“I believe Janet Freeman planted it to get back at me.”

“For what?”

Alex drew in a deep breath. “You know about my wife, right?”

“Yes. I’m aware.”

“I had been faithful to her for the two years since her death. It was just me and my daughter, Carmen. I had no adult companionship. Janet had found a renewed interest in me and had once again, began making sexual advances. I gave in to weakness and we had a brief affair.”

“How long did that last?”

“A couple of weeks.”

“And
you
ended it?”

“I started to feel guilty.”

“And, how did Ms. Freeman react?”

“She was upset, angry, but she seemed to get over it quickly enough.”

“Even though she got over it, she still planted your semen to frame you for rape?”

“That’s the only way it could’ve gotten in the kit. She is the only one who had access.”

“Access to what?”

“To the evidence kit. There is a chain of custody form. The first signature line is to verify that the kit’s original seal is intact, that it’s un-opened. She gathers the evidence, places it in the kit and it is sealed. She signs it and when she transfers custody to me, I sign it.”

“And this seal remains unbroken until it’s processed by forensics?”

“Yes. The lab has a form for the kit. One of the checks is whether the seal is intact.”

“And I assume it was,” Peyton said. “What if it had been compromised?”

“The whole kit would’ve been discarded,” Alex said. “That’s the whole reason for the chain of custody.”

Peyton looked again at the DNA report. Two questions concerning the kit appeared at the top of the page:
is the chain of custody form completed?
And,
is the seal intact?
They were both marked ‘yes’.

“There were some questions from our forensic tech about the vaginal swab in that kit.” Alex said. “There was no victim DNA on the swab.”

“What’s the significance of that?”

“The swab was never placed inside the victim when the evidence was collected.” Alex explained.

“So I take it that normally it would’ve been?”

“Yes. After Sean, our tech, discovered it we called Ms. Freeman in to question her about it.”

“Was this discrepancy noticed before or after the original suspect claimed that the evidence was planted?”

“I’m not sure, but we talked to Janet…Ms. Freeman after Mr. Dupree made the accusations against her.”

“What did she have to say about the swab?”

“She told us that she saw a dried residue that she believed to be semen on the victim’s pubic area. She verified it under a black light and used a clean swab to obtain the sample.”

“Has anyone interviewed the victim about the exam?” Peyton asked.

“Not that I’m aware of. Why?”

“Well, it would stand to reason that if Ms. Freeman was telling the truth about the sample, the victim would recall the use of a black light during the exam,” Peyton said.

“I think they’re used pretty routinely during exams,” Alex said. “I know they are used in the field at crime scenes.”

“It was worth mentioning.” Peyton said as he stood. “I think that’s all I need for now. Do you have any questions for me?”

“I’m sure I’ll think of dozens after you leave.” Alex smiled. Maybe Alex had been too quick to judge. Peyton was asking all the right questions.

“Your arraignment will be today. The first thing I’ll do is request bail.”

“I guess I’ll be transported to the court and put on display for the media,” Alex said.

“No.” Peyton stood and placed his hands on the back of the chair and rested his weight on them. “Actually, I’ve requested that the judge come here,” he said, “And out of respect for you, he agreed.”

“I appreciate that,” Alex said.

“Hey, for a hero, it’s the least we could do.” He extended his hand to Alex. “Judge Harris will be here around three. I’ll see you then”

Alex shook his hand. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

Peyton walked to the door and turned to Alex. “You have another visitor.”

Alex saw Peyton and Rachel exchange words and handshakes outside the room before Rachel entered.

“So, what do you think?” she said as walked toward the table and sat in front of Alex.

“He seems like a smart kid. Still a little wet behind the ears, but I think he has good instincts.”

“That’s good,” Rachel said. She stared at the table for a long moment. “Carmen sends her love.”

“Tell her, I send mine back. How is she? Has she said anything about me?”

Rachel drew in a deep breath and looked down at the table then back at Alex. “She is a staunch supporter. She went to school today. I guess we’ll see how that goes.”

“What about the paper story?”

“She wasn’t surprised. She said if she didn’t stand up for you, who would?”

There was a moment of awkward silence as both stared at the table. Rachel finally spoke. “Do you need anything?”

“Fresh air and dry shoes would be nice.” Alex tried to smile. “Judge Harris is supposed to be here around three. Hopefully he’ll let me post bail.”

“I’ll be here to take you home.” She stood to leave. “In the mean time, I’ve got a few things to take care of.”

Alex stood and walked with her to the door. “Thank you.” He placed his hand on her back. “I’m sorry for turning your life upside down, you having to take care of Carmen and all.”

She turned to face him. “I don’t do it because I have to. I do it because I love her.” She knocked on the door and a jailer opened it for her to leave. “I’ll see you at three.” She looked him up and down, “Why don’t you get some rest? You look like hell.”

The guard returned Alex to his cell. It was ten o’clock. Judge Harris would be here in five hours. Alex stretched out on the lumpy mattress and tried to sleep.