Mark Gimenez - Accused

"What kind of man does that? What kind of man gives cocaine to a seventeen-year-old kid? Every time they were together, now she wants it all the time. What would you do if a grown man gave your girls cocaine?"

Kill him.

"My Billie Jean, she's a good kid, I'm trying to raise her right, but since her mama died, I don't know how to help her understand things… a girl needs a mama when she gets that age, a woman to talk to her about boys and what they'll say to get what they want… all I know is golfing and hunting… I've been lost since her mama died… We both have."

He put his face in his hands and sobbed. The judge called a fifteen-minute recess.

Scott-and Louis-went to the restroom. Scott opened the door and came face to face with Pete Puckett. He had obviously just washed his face.

"I'm sorry, Pete."

"Fuck you. You're a goddamn lawyer, don't give a shit about no one or nothing except getting your wife off."

He stormed down the corridor. Scott looked after him and sighed.

"Ex-wife."

When the trial resumed, Pete Puckett had gathered himself.

"Mr. Puckett, you went to Trey's house that day to kill him?"

"Yes."

"But you didn't?"

"No."

"You dragged Billie Jean out of the house, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"We know Trey was not killed until after midnight. We know you went to the Galvez with your daughter and checked into a suite. We know you were enraged and in town. We know you left the hotel after midnight. Did you return to Trey's house?"

"Yes."

"To kill him?"

"Yes."

"You put on gloves, didn't you?"

"No."

"You went up the back stairs again, didn't you?"

"No."

"You entered the bedroom and found Trey and Rebecca sleeping, passed out."

"No."

"You went back into the kitchen and you got a knife this time, a butcher knife."

"No."

"You went back into the bedroom and over to the bed."

"No."

"You stood over Trey."

"No."

"You raised the knife over Trey."

"No."

"And you stabbed the knife into Trey Rawlins' chest."

"No!"

Pete cried again.

"I wanted to. God knows I wanted to kill him for what he did to my Billie Jean."

"Did you?"

"No."

"What did you do?"

"Sat outside in the car, trying to work up the courage. But I couldn't do it."

"Why not?"

"Because I heard Dottie Lynn's voice. She told me, 'Pete, don't do it. You'll go to prison. And Billie Jean will be all alone.' "

Trey Rawlins had brought out the worst in Pete Puckett, father of Billie Jean. But Pete's dead wife had saved him from life in prison.

"That was unexpected," Bobby said through a mouthful of fried shrimp.

The others had gone back to the house for lunch. Scott and Bobby had gone to the seawall. They were sitting on the same stools at Benno's eating lunch. But Scott couldn't eat.

"Sad, ain't it?" Bobby said. "Billie Jean."

"She needed a mother."

"I hope she can get clean."

"I might've killed Trey myself, if he'd given cocaine to Boo or Pajamae."

"I might've helped you."

After the lunch break, Hank Kowalski stopped Scott again on his way into the courtroom.

"Hank, I didn't throw that guy out the bathroom window."

"Never figured you did." He cut his eyes toward Louis sitting in the spectator pews. "And I know he's one of the goons who beat you up on the beach. Way I figure, all's well that ends well."

Hank reached into his coat pocket and removed the baggie with the four miniature bourbon bottles from the plane.

"Got these prints back. They match the ones on Trey's mirror in the closet."

"Shit."

"So who do they belong to?"

"You don't want to know." Scott tried to think it through. "Hank, hold on to those bottles and hang around. I'm going to call you to testify next."

Hank shrugged. "I'll be here."

Hank left, and Scott called Karen on his cell phone. She was breast-feeding little Scotty, but she answered.

"Karen, when you checked into the judge, did you find out where she was the night Trey was killed?"

"Santa Fe, speaking at a continuing legal education program. Didn't come back until Saturday."

Judge Shelby Morgan was neither a witness nor a suspect. But she had been in Trey's closet. She had probably had sex with Trey. What was Scott supposed to do now? What was his ethical duty? He could bring that fact up and obtain an immediate mistrial. If he did, would the D.A. take Rebecca to trial again? If he did, would she get a fairer trial with another judge? Was Rebecca better off seeing this trial through? Was this her best shot at acquittal? Could Scott hold the judge's relationship with Trey in his pocket like an ace in the hole? If he did, was he risking his own law license? Or something more valuable, like his conscience?

Scott stood and said, "Defense calls Hank Kowalski."

Hank took the oath and sat.

"Mr. Kowalski, after the police department referred this case to the district attorney's office, you were responsible for all the evidence?"

"Yes, sir, I was."

"Mr. Deeks, the criminologist, testified that he found three sets of unidentified prints in the Rawlins house-one on the kitchen counter, one on the headboard of the bed in the crime scene, and one on the full-length mirror in the victim's closet, is that correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"And he testified that he handed those prints over to you?"

"Yes, sir."

"And you subsequently determined that the set on the kitchen counter belonged to Pete Puckett?"

"Yes, sir."

"And how did you do that?"

"You gave me a number of items bearing fingerprints of possible suspects. I ran all those prints, including an item with prints on it which you said were Mr. Puckett's. I ran the prints and they matched those on the counter."

"Did you subsequently determine to whom the set of prints on the headboard belong?"

"Yes, sir."

"And how did you do that?"

"On a hunch, I obtained the subject's fingerprints and ran them. They matched."

"And who was this subject?"

"Renee Ramirez."

The courtroom audience gasped. It hadn't been Hank's hunch. After Scott's meeting with Renee at the Hotel Galvez pool bar, he had taken her Mimosa glass and given it to the D.A. for prints. Renee had interviewed Trey at his house only a few weeks before his death. She had given him more than a nice profile on the news.

"Renee Ramirez's fingerprints were found on the headboard of Trey Rawlins' bed?"

"Yes, sir."

"Interesting."

"I thought so."

Unlike in federal court where the lawyers must stand at a podium to question witnesses, in state court counsel may stand next to the witness, if they so chose. Scott walked over and stood next to Hank but faced the judge.

"And what about the last set-the prints on the mirror in Trey's closet?"

"Yes, I've identified those as well."

The judge's eyes came up.

"And to whom do they belong?"

"Well, Mr. Fenney, you're gonna have to tell me that."

"Why is that?"

"Because all I know is that the prints on the mirror match the prints on the bourbon bottles."

The judge interrupted. "Bourbon bottles? What bourbon bottles?"

Hank reached into his coat and removed the baggie with the miniature bourbon bottles. "These bourbon bottles. Kind they give you on airplane flights."

Hank handed them up to the judge. She looked closely at them, and when her face came up, Scott knew she had recognized them.

"Are these in evidence?"

"No, Your Honor, they're not. Not yet, anyway."

"And what is the point of this testimony?"

"If I may, Your Honor, that will become evident." Scott turned back to the witness. "Mr. Kowalski, where did you get those bottles?"

"From you."