Stephen Penner - Presumption of Innocence

"That's not true," she asserted.

"We found your fingerprint on the note," McCall shrugged. "So that's already one place he forgot."

Holly's frown deepened. She looked down with wide eyes, clearly trying to decide whether to talk. So Chen hit her again.

"Whose DNA are we going to find under her fingernails, Holly?"

She looked up. "What?"

"DNA," Chen repeated. "Under her fingernails. They always take fingernail clippings and send them to the crime lab."

"And there's always DNA under the fingernails from their attacker," McCall added. "People always resist. They push and pull, and skin cells get under the fingernails. If she touched you, your DNA is on its way to the crime lab."

Holly looked at the junior detective.

He made sure she understood. "You're fucked."

"There's a way out, though," offered Chen.

Holly glared at him, her suspicion clear in her eyes.

"Look, Holly," Chen leaned onto the table, "we know this wasn't your idea. We know you never would have done this on your own."

"It's called duress," McCall explained. "And it's a complete defense. If somebody else makes you do something, you can't be held responsible for it."

Holly frowned and her eyebrows knit together. She looked down for a few moments. Then she looked up again. "What if didn't exactly make me, but he kinda made me feel like I had to?"

"Well, uh, it's kind of a sliding scale," Chen stammered.

"Yeah, kinda depends," McCall added.

Holly's eyes widened. Her mouth shrank into a tight line.

Oh, for God's sake , thought Brunelle. He tapped on the mirror.

Chen and McCall turned around. Brunelle tapped again.

"Uh, hold on a sec, Holly." Chen stood up. "I'll be right back."

Chen stepped into the attached observation room. "Oh, Dave. You made it."

"Yeah, for all the good it's doing," Brunelle said. "Sliding scale?"

Chen rubbed the back of neck and grimaced. "Yeah, sorry. Wasn't ready for her question."

Brunelle tapped his chin for a moment. "Tell her Washington is a death penalty state."

Chen frowned. "She's a juvenile. She can't get the death penalty."

"I bet she doesn't know that," Brunelle replied. "And anyway, it's true. It is a death penalty state. But, Christ, Chen. If somebody got her to do that, he must have threatened her with a lot worse than a sliding scale. As long as she thinks what he'll do to her is worse than what you'll do to her, she'll never talk."

Chen rubbed his chin and frowned. After a moment, he nodded. "Okay, you're right. Whoever did this to her must be pretty bad news. It's worth a shot."

He slapped Brunelle on the shoulder and headed back into the interview room. He pulled out the small chair and slammed himself down onto the table.

"Holly," he started in his most sincere voice, "that was the prosecutor who's gonna handle your case. He wanted me to make sure you know Washington is a death penalty state."

Her jaw dropped almost as far as Brunelle's. He couldn't believe he told her the prosecutor was watching.

"We've been playing nice up 'til now," Chen went on. "But this is kind of it. We have other stuff to do on this case so we can't sit here all day while you try to decide what to do. I think this other guy forced you into helping him. If that's right, then you should tell us now, because no one's going to believe you later if you didn't take this opportunity to tell us now."

Holly looked from Chen to McCall. "Is this really a death penalty state?"

"I'm afraid so, Holly," McCall answered solemnly. He got what Chen was doing. "This may be your last chance."

Holly set her jaw. Her eyes narrowed. For the first time, she placed her hands on the table and folded them. She was making her decision. Brunelle hoped it was the right one. For them.

She dropped her head into her hands. "It was Arpad."

"Our pad?" asked Chen. "Whose pad? Where is-?"

"No. Arpad." Holly looked up again. This time her eyes were red rimmed. She wasn't crying yet, but almost. "A-R-P-A-D. That's his name. It's Hungarian or something. He said he was Hungarian royalty, descended from counts or something."

Brunelle winced. This wasn't good.

Chen nodded. "Okay, got it. Arpad. What's Arpad's last name?"

Holly hesitated.

"Come on, Holly," said McCall. "You've come this far."

She nodded. "All right. Karpati. Arpad Karpati." She spelled it for them.

"Do you know his birthday?" McCall asked as he scribbled the name down on his notepad. "Or at least how old he is."

"Twenty," answered Holly. "He's twenty."

Brunelle grinned. Now it was a death penalty case.

McCall hurried out of the room to get the suspect information out to the detectives working the case.

"Tell me what Arpad did," Chen said.

"What he did to her?" Holly asked, as her eyes finally released a tear. "Or what he did to me?"

Brunelle leaned forward. This might turn out to be more than just a death penalty case. Holly was fifteen. Karpati was twenty. And since they were more than forty eight months apart… but he decided to stop his suppositions, and wait to see what she actually said.

"What did he do to you, Holly?" Chen asked. If he wasn't sincerely concerned for her, he sure sounded like he was.

"He, well, that is." She put a hand up to her eyes. "It's just that. Well, see, he was my boyfriend, and…"

"Understood," said Chen. "Did he force you to have sex?"

Holly nodded, but couldn't manage any words.

"Okay, Holly, why don't we come back to that?" It was interesting and important-and criminal even without force-but if she wasn't really ready to talk about it, it could end up derailing the entire interrogation. "Let's talk about Emily. Tell me what Arpad did to the girl."

Holly nodded. Then she did. The whole story. Brunelle listened intently. Chen and he both wanted the information, but it had very different value to each of them. Everything she told Chen could be used against Karpati to make the case against him and justify his arrest. And everything she told Chen would be completely inadmissible against Karpati at trial because it would be hearsay.

Unless Holly went from defendant to witness. Which meant explaining to those parents why the girl who helped murder their daughter and hang her from the balcony was getting a sweetheart deal to turn State's evidence and walk away with a slap on the wrist.

Holly had met Karpati at a club. He was older and cool and dark and edgy. He chatted her up. They danced, they drank, they fucked. She thought he was the best thing ever. He seemed to be able to tolerate her. His disdain just made her want him more. She wanted to know all his secrets. He told her she didn't want that, she couldn't handle it. She insisted. He told her he was descended from vampires. He didn't need blood like real vampires. Not every day. But he did need it sometimes. And it had to be pure blood. Girl's blood. Virgin's blood.

That had hurt her. She wasn't a virgin. Hadn't been since some boy in seventh grade. She couldn't help him. But then again, maybe she could. She had friends. Girls she'd met here and there. Most had lived lives like her, but there were a few, the snooty girls with the rich parents she met through the church where her probation officer said she could do her community service hours. Girls like Emily Montgomery.

So she told Karpati about Emily and they hatched a plan. Holly chatted her up and made friends. Waited for her to mention a time she'd be home alone. It didn't take long and soon enough they had a day picked out. They parked in Karpati's car down the street, lights dimmed, and waited for Emily's parents to leave. Then they drove up and parked a few houses away. Holly knocked and Emily opened the door. Of course she did. She knew Holly.