Read Trial Junkies (A Thriller) Online
Authors: Robert Gregory Browne
Tags: #Mystery, #detective, #Murder, #Crime, #Suspense, #Thriller
But why limit this guessing game to men? What about the woman who sat directly across from Hutch and defined the word battle-ax? She was overdressed and wore too much make-up, neither of which disguised the fact that she had a face that looked as if it had been smashed by a quite few frying pans. Her frown was so unyielding, the crease between her brows seemed to have been tattooed in place.
Why was
she
here? Could she be the killer, enjoying the spectacle of her handiwork? She certainly looked as if she could wield a knife with the best of them.
Or what about Jenny's father, Nathaniel Keating? He had come here every day without fail, sitting not in the front row but in the far right corner, his face stony and humorless as he watched the proceedings. He had never once acknowledged Hutch's presence here, but Hutch wasn't surprised. They had only met twice, and the old man had never liked him. Keating was the kind of guy who needed to control everyone around him and had considered Hutch a bad influence on his child. Jenny and her father had argued many times when she'd failed to take his advice, and Hutch knew that she had always been a little afraid of him.
But was it possible he had killed his own daughter?
That didn't seem likely.
Then there was Hutch's new friend Gus. He was also sitting in back today, looking like the harmless old coot he seemed to be. But then millions of television viewers thought Jack Van Parkes was a harmless old coot, and Hutch knew that wasn't true. Jack Van Parkes was a horn dog of the highest magnitude who had a thing for high school girls, and had spent a considerable amount of his residuals paying off angry parents.
So was Gus also hiding something? Hutch barely knew him, so anything was possible.
And what about his old friend Andy McKenna? Sitting just two seats over, watching Meyer testify with rapt attention. On the night of Jenny's funeral, Matt had mentioned that Andy had a thing for her, and everyone had gotten a good laugh out of it.
But what if it wasn't all that funny to Andy? What if he had propositioned Jenny and been turned down?
Was he capable of slicing her up in retaliation?
Hutch sighed, wishing he had a cigarette, letting his focus return to Meyer, who was now telling the jury about his visit to Jenny's law firm, and the questioning of Jenny's secretary that had led him to pull the phone records detailing Ronnie's calls.
"And the records showed that these calls came from Ms. Baldacci?" Abernathy asked.
"Not all of them. Several originated through a hotel switchboard, indicating that a house phone was used."
"Which hotel?"
"The Dumont, which is directly across the street from the victim's office building."
Abernathy nodded. "How did you establish that they came from the defendant?"
"During the witness interview. Ms. Keating's secretary told us that Baldacci identified herself and insisted on being connected to Ms. Keating's line. The secretary made a notation on her calendar each time the defendant called."
"Did she give you any indication as to why Ms. Baldacci was trying to contact the victim?"
"She told us that the defendant's husband had filed for sole custody of their son and that the firm was representing him. She said that Baldacci was under the mistaken impression that the victim was one of the attorneys involved."
"And was she?"
"Objection," Waverly said from her chair behind the defense table. "I'm curious to know who exactly is testifying here—Ms. Keating's secretary or Detective Meyer?"
"Your Honor," Abernathy said patiently, "Detective Meyer is simply trying to recount the investigation for us, and part of any good investigation involves questioning those who may have pertinent information. We fully intend to put Ms. Keating's secretary on the stand, and defense counsel will be free to cross-examine either of these witnesses as she sees fit."
The judge mulled this over for all of two milliseconds, then nodded. "Overruled."
Abernathy continued on as if there had never been an interruption. "So
was
Ms. Keating one of the attorney's involved in this custody case?"
"No," Meyer told him. "The husband was represented by an attorney in another department."
"I see," Abernathy said. “So these phone calls were largely a waste of time.”
"It appears that way."
"And how many of them were there?"
“Nineteen.”
Abernathy's eyebrows went up. “Nineteen? Over what time period?”
“Throughout the month of April," Meyer said. "The number of calls escalated toward the last week.”
“Meaning what?”
“That most of the calls were made a day or two prior to the attack on Ms. Keating. And the majority of
those
came from the Dumont.”
“And did you find this significant?”
Meyer nodded. “It indicated to us that the defendant may have been stalking Ms. Keating and the sudden increase in volume seemed to suggest that Baldacci was growing more and more—"
"Objection," Waverly said, getting to her feet this time. "I think we can all see where this is going, Your Honor, and I doubt very seriously that there's any significant correlation between the frequency of phone calls and the caller's emotional state. Any testimony of that nature would be purely speculative and highly prejudicial, especially in light of the fact that Detective Meyer is neither a mind reader nor an expert in psychology."
"Sustained," the judge said immediately.
Waverly gave Abernathy a tight smile, then sat back down.
It was a good move, Hutch thought, if a little late. It was obvious that the prosecutor was hoping to establish that Ronnie had grown more and more frantic in the days just prior to the murder, and while the logic didn't necessarily connect, that thought had already been planted in the minds of the jury. Had Waverly jumped in a handful of seconds earlier, she may have prevented this from happening.
It suddenly occurred to Hutch just how crucial the timing was in a trial of this kind. A tiny mistake like this could change the whole dynamic of the beast, and he hoped Waverly would be a little quicker on her feet in the future.
He and Matt exchanged a look and he knew that Matt was thinking the same thing.
They waited for Abernathy to continue, but the ADA glanced at his watch and said, "Your Honor, it'll be a while before I'm finished with this witness and I'm thinking now may be a good time to break for lunch."
Of course it would, Hutch thought. Leave the jurors mulling over those phone calls as they eat their Big Macs.
"You read my mind," Judge O'Donnell said, then turned to the jury. "Ladies and gentlemen, I want to remind you that you're not to discuss this case with anyone, including each other. You're also reminded not to read any newspapers or watch any news programs during the lunch hour. And I expect you all to be back in your seats and ready to proceed by one-thirty this afternoon. Understood?"
The jurors nodded, several saying, "Yes, Your Honor."
"Good," O'Donnell said. "We're adjourned for lunch."
— 22 —
"M
IND IF WE
join you? Or is this table pro-defense only?"
Hutch looked up, surprised to see Monica Clawson and Tom Brandt approaching their booth. He, Matt and Andy had taken one that faced the entrance of a crowded bar and grill called The Jury Box, which was located about a block from the courthouse. Matt had suggested the place, and Hutch figured it would be a nice change from his usual vending machine sandwich.
Over the last several days he had been reluctant to venture outside the courthouse at lunchtime, for fear he'd be hounded by aggressive reporters and their video cameras. But to his surprise—and relief—their interest in him seemed to have waned. He wasn't sure why, but figured there must be some other poor fool, much higher on the celebrity food chain than him, who had gotten himself in trouble and would be dominating the news tonight.
Probably some human train wreck vying for a reality show.
The Jury Box was nothing more than a glorified hamburger joint, but its close proximity to the courthouse—and its name, no doubt—made it the lunchtime hotspot for attorneys, trial watchers, jurors and even judges. With their booth facing the door, Hutch saw several people from the courtroom wander in, searching for a place to sit, but had somehow missed Tom and Monica.
"We promise not to bite," Monica continued, then smiled. "Unless you want us to."
"Speak for yourself," Tom said.
Andy, who was staring openly at Monica's chest, patted the spot next to him. "I've got no problem with it. Have a seat."
Matt didn't seemed too thrilled by this intrusion, but they had plenty of room and he said nothing as Monica slid in next to Andy, and Tom took the spot next to Hutch.
"When did you guys get here?" Hutch asked. "I didn't see you in the courtroom."
"We couldn't find a seat," Monica said. "Place was packed."
Andy's eyebrows went up. "And you stuck around anyway?"
"We hit a couple museums to kill some time. Figured we might be able to squeeze in after lunch." She looked at Hutch. "So is it true? You're back on Ronnie's team?"
"How did you know?"
Tom said, "We saw the three of you coming out of the courthouse together, so we figured you'd had a change of heart."
Hutch nodded.
"Mind telling us why?"
"Mostly because of Matt here," Hutch said. "He's seen the police reports first hand and the evidence is largely circumstantial and doesn't really hold up. But I think what really sealed the deal is when I realized how much of what the prosecution has been doing over the last four months is nothing but crass PR."
"What do you mean?" Monica asked.
"Think about it. It's as if they've been running a political campaign rather than looking for justice. Leaking just enough information to pique our interest, but always in control of the message. They painted the picture of Ronnie they wanted us to see and the media gobbled it whole like the careless bastards they are." He looked at Matt. "No offense."
Matt shook his head. "None taken."
"So," Hutch went on, "I had to step past all that and realize that, at her core, Ronnie will always be Ronnie and she just isn't capable of doing what was done to Jenny."
Andy nodded agreement. "She may be nuts, but she isn't
that
nuts."
They all looked at him.
"What? I can't say something nice once in a while?"
Hutch just shook his head. "Anyway, it's been a bit of a roller coaster, but I'm finally on steady ground."
Tom smiled. "It's funny, but you aren't the only one riding that roller coaster. You've pretty much summed up exactly the way
we've
been feeling."
Matt looked surprised. "Seriously?"
Monica said, "Do you know how many meals we've shared with Ronnie. How many times we've laughed together? Cried? So what if we haven't seen each other in a few years? She's still Ronnie and God knows she's never judged
me
." She paused. "I'm ashamed I ever doubted her."
They sat in silence a moment, then Hutch said, "So we're all in agreement now? That she didn't kill Jenny?"
Nods around the table.
"So then the question remains," he said. "Who the hell did?"
— 23 —
T
HEY SPENT THE
entire meal contemplating the question.
Hutch told them how he had sat in the courtroom, looking around at the faces of the spectators in the gallery, wondering if any of them could be the culprit—as Waverly had suggested.
The idea seemed pretty ludicrous on its surface, but it was an intriguing one.
Monica said, "I think Ronnie may have been right. That this was a random murder. Some slasher who saw Jenny and killed her to get his rocks off."
"Which makes it unlikely he'd be in the courtroom," Tom said. "Why would he bother?"
"Why else?" she snorted. "To get his rocks off again. Relive the moment. Trust me, I've been running a cam girls website long enough to see some pretty screwed up people."
They all thought about that, then Hutch said, "That's only one of the possibilities. Do any of you know if Jenny had any enemies?"
Matt shook his head. "Not that I can think of. But we weren't exactly bosom buddies anymore. What about you, Andy? You were probably the last one of us to talk to her."
Andy looked surprised. "You know about that?"
"Ronnie told us. Said Jenny told
her
."