Stephen Penner - Presumption of Innocence

"Sorry," said Kat. "Couldn't resist. By all means, overwhelm me with honesty and candor."

Brunelle sipped again, then got right to it. "I have two defendants. One confessed, but basically implicated the other. And the other lawyered up."

"Yeah, I already knew all that."

Brunelle screwed up his face. "You did?"

"Well, I read the paper. And besides," she took a long drink of her coffee, "everybody's talking about how Welles kicked your ass in court."

"He did not kick my ass!"

The other patrons turned to look at Brunelle. He started to blush. Kat burst out laughing.

"Oh, you are fun, David Brunelle."

"He did not kick my ass," Brunelle repeated in a lower voice. "I still got ten mil on his client. But yes, his client is the one who lawyered up. The girl wants a dismissal, and I want to know if there's anything forensically that supports the fact that Welles' client was the killer."

Kat's radiant smile finally faded as she pursed her lips in thought. But her eyes still sparkled and Brunelle wondered if she could tell just how glad he was to be with her right then, no matter how grisly the conversation.

"We did fingernail clippings," Kat considered. "DNA might have linked him, but the crime lab said the only profile was hers."

"Anything from the autopsy to support a larger person, a man, versus, say, a fifteen year old girl?"

Kat gave a noncommittal shrug. "Maybe. The bindings on the wrists were tight, the flesh was pressed in very deep. That suggests strength. Then there's the whole issue of pulling a 100 pound body up off the ground and tying it off on the balcony."

"She was only one hundred pounds?"

"Yeah she was a small little thing."

That reminded him of something else he needed to ask. Something that would corroborate, to a degree anyway, Holly's claims. But he wasn't entirely sure how to ask it.

"Um. How thorough are your autopsies?"

Kat cocked her head. "Very thorough. Of course. That's the whole point."

Brunelle nodded. "Right, right." He took a nervous sip of his coffee. "Look, I need to ask a question, and it's fine if you don't know the answer. I don't imagine it's something you check usually. But I just want you to know there's a reason I'm asking and please don't shout out the question back to me in this crowded, already suspicious of me coffee house."

Kat listened intently, then laughed again. Brunelle really liked how her mouth looked when she laughed. "Okay, David. Wow. I promise. Now you've got me curious. What piece of information do you want to know from my examination of a dead thirteen year old girl's body?"

Brunelle took a bracing sip of his coffee. "Was she a virgin?"

Kat pursed her lips and took another long drag from her coffee. "Please tell me you're not a pervert."

Before Brunelle could respond, Kat added, "Well, at least not that kind of pervert."

Brunelle was pretty sure he blushed, although he wasn't exactly sure whether it was because of what he had asked or what she had suggested. "No, not that kind of pervert."

He explained what Holly had said about Karpati needing a virgin for a victim.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Kat said. "He thinks he's a vampire?"

Brunelle shrugged. "That's what the girl said."

"Does he sparkle?" Kat laughed.

"No, he's old school. Transylvanian royalty and all that."

Kat drank again. "Well, Mr. Pervert. I guess I can help after all. Yes, she was a virgin. We checked for evidence of sexual assault. There were no signs of trauma, and her hymen was in tact."

Brunelle nodded and sipped at his coffee.

"Happy now?" Kat asked.

Brunelle frowned. "Not really. She's still dead."

Kat's usual smile faded a bit. "She was dead before you got involved, David. You can't change that. You can just try to bring her and her family some justice."

Brunelle nodded and managed a faint grin. "Thanks, Kat."

He looked at his watch. "I better get back to the office."

"Aww," pouted Kat. "I haven't finished my coffee."

Then she tipped her head back and downed the rest of her drink all at once. "Okay, that's better. Thanks for the date, David."

They both stood up. "We'll have to do this again sometime," Brunelle said casually.

"Great," Kat slipped an arm through his. "When?"

Brunelle was taken aback. But he was used to thinking on his feet. And taking advantage of a beneficial statement.

"How's next Friday?" suggested Brunelle. "Dinner maybe. I'll even let you buy."

Kat laughed as they stepped out of the door. "Oh, how kind of you. But you'd owe me."

"Right. That was the plan."

Then Kat slapped her forehead. "Wait, next Friday? No I can't. My daughter has a recital that night."

"Ahh," said Brunelle, but what he meant was 'Ohh, you have kids.'

"Yes, I am divorced and I have a daughter, Mr. Brunelle," Kat replied. "A wonderful fourteen-year-old daughter named Lizzy, who has a ballet recital next Friday night. Is that gonna be a problem?"

"Not for me," Brunelle answered. "But she's probably gonna be upset that you're missing her recital."

Kat laughed. "How about the Friday after that? She'll be visiting her dad in Portland that weekend."

"Oh yeah?" Brunelle asked.

"Oh, yeah," purred Kat.

Brunelle smiled. "It's a date."

Yamata's briefs were, in fact, exquisite.

Welles was a lying sack of crap. Brunelle knew it, but Yamata reduced it to writing.

"Very nice," Brunelle said to her over the pleadings as he finished. "Let's get these filed today."

He looked at the last page. It was prepared for his signature. "One change though. Make these for your signature."

"Oh," said Yamata. "I just figured, since you're lead…"

"I'm co," corrected Brunelle. "And you wrote them, so you get to sign them."

Yamata shifted in her seat.

"You're not at a private firm anymore, Michelle. And I'm not some partner looking for an ego massage."

He immediately regretted the 'massage' reference, but figured she knew what he meant.

"That's nice to know, Mr. Bru-, er, Dave. But there's something else. What if they're no good."

Brunelle smiled. "No worries there. They're great. In fact," he leaned forward, "why don't you argue it?"

Yamata choked. "Me? You're lead."

"Co. And yes, you. You wrote the briefs. You know it better than I do. It'll lose something in the translation."

"Uh, okay. Great. Thanks, Mr. Br-, uh, Dave."

"Now," Brunelle stood up. "Ready to meet the parents?"

Yamata stood up too and put a hand to her stomach. "Ugh. Wow, really? No. I'm not sure I could ever be ready for that."

Brunelle smiled. "That's exactly the right answer. Now come on, this time you can let me do the talking."

Yamata exhaled loudly. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. May I have another?"

Brunelle glanced at her. She smiled and curtsied.

"Glad you're enjoying yourself," Brunelle laughed. "Because this next part is going to suck."

***

Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery were already in the conference room, along with Tammy Gardner of the victims and witnesses support division. Mr. Montgomery stood up as Brunelle and Yamata walked in. Mrs. Montgomery remained seated next to Tammy, who patted her shoulder supportively.

"Mr. Brunelle." Montgomery stuck out his hand. "Good to see you again. Tammy told us you filed the death notice. Thank you."

Despite Brunelle's job, it still seemed like a strange thing to thank someone for. But he had stopped a long time ago trying to understand or anticipate the emotions of murder victim families.

"It's well warranted," Brunelle answered as he shook Montgomery's hand. "Let me introduce Michelle Yamata, the other prosecutor on the case."

Yamata extended her hand too, but Mr. Montgomery ignored it. "You need two prosecutors? Why? Is there a problem with the case?"