Phillip Margolin - Lost Lake

Brendan walked down a narrow hallway that began at the reception desk and ended in a large open area that housed the workspaces of the deputy district attorneys and their staff. General Wingate was waiting in the conference room. Two Secret Service men were guarding the door. They searched Brendan and his briefcase before letting him in.

General Wingate’s pale blue eyes fixed on the prosecutor the moment the door opened. Seated beside him was Bryce McDermott, the General’s political adviser. Mr. McDermott had returned to the conference room as soon as Vanessa was through testifying, to brief the General on what Carl Rice and his daughter had said. At the end of the table was a compact, muscular man wearing a leather jacket that was open enough to give the deputy DA a clear view of a large handgun. The man’s eyes were on Kirkpatrick as soon as he entered the room.

The General still wore his gray-streaked hair in a military cut. He had on a white silk shirt, a solid maroon tie, and the slacks from a charcoal-gray suit. The suit jacket was folded neatly over the back of a chair.

Wingate looked upset. “Bryce tells me you were pretty rough on Vanessa.”

“It’s my job to win this bail hearing, but I can assure you that I didn’t enjoy myself.”

The General sighed. “I know you’re just doing your job, but I hurt whenever Vanessa hurts. Do you have children, Mr. Kirkpatrick?”

“No,” Brendan answered. His expression didn’t change but he felt an ache in his heart. He and his wife had started talking about a family shortly before she died.

“They’re amazing, but they play havoc with your emotions. Every little thing they do brings you either ecstasy or pain. Sadly for me, Vanessa’s actions over the years have brought me little pleasure. Still, I can’t stand to see her suffer.”

“Then I’m sorry to tell you that I need you to testify.”

“Surely that’s not necessary after the job you did examining Carl and Vanessa. What possible questions could the judge have about their sanity? He’s got to realize that Vanessa is too irrational to release on bail.”

“General Wingate, if there’s one thing I’ve learned in my years in practice it’s that you never assume a judge or jury is going to act in any particular way. I’ve seen the most bizarre decisions made in this courthouse, and the only thing I know for sure is that you always cover you ass.

“Besides, I need you to tell the judge why you had your daughter brought to your home and what happened when Rice broke in. And I think it’s essential that you deny Rice’s allegations about this secret army he claims you ran when you were with the AIDC.”

The General turned to McDermott. “What do you think, Bryce?”

“I agree with Brendan. The press is all over the courtroom. They took down every word Rice and your daughter said. We need to defuse this thing. If you don’t answer their accusations, the media is going to speculate about why you’re keeping mum. Let’s put this bullshit to rest, right now.”

Wingate sighed again. “You’re right. I’m just not happy about sitting across from my daughter and saying things that will reinforce her belief that I’m trying to destroy her life.”

“I understand completely, and I’ll try and make this experience as painless as possible,” Brendan said.

“I don’t suppose Mrs. Vergano shares your sentiments?”

“No, sir, I don’t believe she does.”

Brendan Kirkpatrick and General Wingate pushed through the courtroom doors surrounded by the General’s bodyguards and followed by Bryce McDermott. Suddenly, the back benches were flooded by the glare from the television lights and there was an explosion of sound from the corridor. Then the doors swung shut and the General walked to the witness box, back straight, eyes forward, as if he were on parade. When he drew even with his daughter, he paused to send a sad smile her way. Vanessa met the smile with a look of pure hatred. Wingate’s smile faded and he shook his head sadly.

As soon as the bailiff swore him in, the General took his seat in the witness box.

“Have you ever been married?” Kirkpatrick asked as soon as he had walked Wingate through his educational, military, and business history.

“Yes, to Charlotte Kohler, a wonderful woman.”

“What happened to her?”

Wingate dropped his eyes. “She died in a car accident.”

“When did this happen?”

“In the mid-sixties, when Vanessa was still in middle school. Her mother’s death hit her very hard.”

“You’re referring to the defendant, Vanessa Kohler?”

“Yes.”

“Is the defendant the only child of your marriage?”

“Yes.”

“How would you characterize your relationship with your daughter?”

“We were close until her mother died. Then she got it into her head somehow that I was responsible for the automobile accident that killed Charlotte. She was in her teens, a very vulnerable age. Our relationship became strained.”

The General looked up at the DA. “I take a lot of responsibility for that. Vanessa and I lived in California but I worked in Washington, D.C.”

“You were in charge of the Agency for Intelligence Data Coordination?”

“Yes. I should have been home more, but I couldn’t be, especially after Vietnam started. The workload was punishing.”

“Was there a specific event that further affected the relationship between you and Miss Kohler?”

Wingate nodded. “In 1985, Vanessa saw Carl Rice murder Eric Glass. It was a terrible murder-very gruesome. She had a breakdown and had to be hospitalized. I checked her into an exclusive private sanatorium where she would get the best care possible. She fought her hospitalization. She insisted that locking her away was part of some plot against her.”

Wingate paused and took a sip of water before continuing.

“Putting Vanessa in a mental hospital was very painful for me, Mr. Kirkpatrick, but sending her to Serenity Manor was absolutely essential for her mental health.” The General looked down. “After I had her committed, she refused to speak to me.”

“How long have you known Carl Rice?”

“I believe we first met at my home in California in 1969. It was the beginning of Vanessa’s senior year in high school. Carl was a classmate.”

“What was your initial impression of Mr. Rice?”

“I liked him. He was bright, articulate, and a serious student and athlete.”

“What was Mr. Rice’s sport?”

“Karate. He’d been studying since he was young and he was very good, a black belt.”

“You know that Mr. Rice has accused you of being the head of a secret army unit that recruited him during the Vietnam War.”

“Yes.”

“Are you aware that he alleges that this army unit committed illegal acts, including murder, at your command?”

“Yes.”

“Are you also aware that Mr. Rice has testified that you ordered him to torture Congressman Eric Glass to death in order to retrieve documents which your daughter took from your safe in California? These documents were supposed to prove the existence of this secret army.”

“I’ve heard about the testimony.”

“Did you order Carl Rice to kill the congressman?”

“No, absolutely not.”

“Did this secret army unit ever exist?”

“No. The Agency for Intelligence Data Coordination is an intelligence-gathering organization that works with data supplied by other intelligence agencies, like the CIA and the Defense Intelligence Agency. The agency’s charter does not permit it to have agents of its own.”

“What about these records that your daughter claims she took from your safe that prove the existence of this secret army-the records Mr. Rice said he took from Congressman Glass after torturing him? What do you have to say about them?”