William Bernhardt - Capitol offence

Just for the sake of courtesy, Ben crossed the aisle and greeted his opponents. He shook hands with both attorneys. He could tell Patterson was staring at his face.

"Does it show?" Ben asked.

Patterson almost jumped. "Oh-well-I'm sorry. Didn't mean to stare."

"It's all right. A scar is a scar."

"That was a horrible day for Oklahoma," Patterson said. "And the nation. But I admired the way you handled yourself afterward."

"Well… thank you." Ben turned his attention to the boss. "David. How have you been? Haven't seen you for ages."

"'Cause you've been hiding out in Washington. Glad you're back home where you belong. Saw your press conference, by the way." He was a handsome man, dark-haired with just enough gray at the temples, telegenic-which was essential when the district attorney was an elected official. "Very dynamic."

"Saw yours, too," Ben replied. "Guess you're hoping for an all-redneck jury?"

"And you're hoping for the liberal bleeding hearts. The result will be somewhere in the middle." He pulled Ben a little closer. "I may have a plea offer for you later today."

"I'm glad," Ben said, "but I doubt my client will accept anything."

"Ten to twenty on a cop killing. It's like a Christmas present."

"Not if you're innocent."

"Don't you mean not if you're insane?" Guillerman smiled, a broad, toothy smile. It was hard not to like him. "And you would have to be to turn this down. Honestly, I'm just trying to save us both a lot of trouble and heartache. You don't know this, Ben, but I've tracked your career for many years. I'm actually a big fan. And I know how surprisingly effective you can be in the courtroom."

Ben maintained a straight face. Surprisingly?

"But this is a loser for you. A dead cop. A family man. And so much evidence of planning and deliberation. Clarence Darrow couldn't win this one."

And you're no Clarence Darrow. The message was so clear Guillerman didn't have to say it. "I'll take any offers to my client. But I don't think it's going to happen."

Guillerman shook his head. "That's a shame. We're both coming up for reelection soon. We really don't need a messy case like this one. No one wins."

"Since you feel so certain you're going to win, why don't you let my bail request go unopposed?"

"Can't do that."

"He's an English teacher, David. What can he do?"

"Look what he's already done." Guillerman smiled. "Can't do it, Ben. The press would crucify me. And I've got a major fund-raiser tonight."

"So long before the election?"

Guillerman shrugged. "It takes a lot of money to mount a campaign these days."

Ben would be appalled at his reducing a criminal trial to politics-if everything he said weren't so true. "I'll wait for your call on that plea."

He returned to his own table. He could see Christina was looking at him eagerly, wondering what they'd talked about. He shook his head. No news.

Judge Leland McPartland was one of the senior members of the Tulsa County judiciary, said to be about three years away from retirement. He was generally considered a competent if uninspired jurist. He was known to be old-school in his approach to the law and conservative in his approach to politics. Ben could just imagine what he thought of this purported cop killer. Or what he would think of the idea of temporary insanity.

The bailiff brought the room to their feet and introduced the judge, who sailed in behind him while he was speaking.

"You may be seated."

The room obliged.

"Is the defendant present?"

Ben rose to his feet. "Benjamin Kincaid for the defense, your honor."

"A pleasure to see our distinguished senator back in the courtroom," McPartland said straight-faced. Ben wasn't sure how to take it. "Are you prepared to proceed?"

"We are. Waive reading. Enter a plea of not guilty."

The judge hesitated for only the tiniest moment. "Not guilty?"

"Yes, your honor. And we will assert the affirmative defense of temporary insanity."

There was an audible reaction from the gallery. The two prosecutors looked at one another with weary eyes.

"Temporary insanity." Judge McPartland made tiny notes on a legal pad, despite the fact that the court reporter was taking down every word anyone said. "Will there be anything else?"

"Yes, your honor. Although it will be tried in another court, you should be aware that there is a parallel civil suit accusing the police department of gross misconduct and seeking damages."

"I am already aware of that, counsel." His voice lowered a notch. "I do read the papers."

"Your honor," Guillerman said, rising, "we all know the police have legal immunity for actions performed in the course of duty."

"That doesn't excuse gross negligence or misconduct," Ben responded. "Or the intentional infliction of emotional distress."

"It's not misconduct to follow the rules. Detective Sentz-"

Judge McPartland held up his hands. "All right, gentlemen. We don't need to have this debate here. Save it for the civil courts. Will there be anything else?"

"Yes, your honor. We request that bail be set."

Guillerman rose again. "Out of the question, your honor. This man killed a police officer. In cold blood."

"I'm sorry," Ben said. "Has a verdict already been rendered? I thought we were just getting started."

"I do not believe it is ever the practice of this court to grant bail in capital cases," Guillerman continued, "and I certainly don't think this is the time to make a change. There can be no leniency when it comes to the execution of duly appointed officers of the law. Our boys in blue. The heroes of 9/11."

Ben was pretty sure Detective Sentz had nothing to do with 9/11, but he let it slide. "I notice, your honor, that the distinguished district attorney has said absolutely nothing relevant to whether my client should be granted bail. The standard is whether he presents a flight risk or any potential harm to society. There is no flight risk. Dennis Thomas has lived in Tulsa all his life except for a few years in college and has no criminal record whatsoever. He has a teaching job at the University of Tulsa and he owns a home in Skiatook. And frankly, his face has been so showcased by the television media that I doubt there's anywhere he could go without being recognized. He has no desire to run. Only to clear his name and see justice done."

"The man is a murderer," Guillerman said. "Case closed."

"Furthermore," Ben continued, "there is no reason to believe he poses any risk to society. Even if you accept the blather the DA has been peddling, my client acted out of grief in retaliation against the man he believed responsible for his wife's death. She's gone now, dead, so there's no chance of those circumstances arising again."

"If a man is dangerous enough to strike once, he can strike again," Guillerman said.

"You could use that argument to preclude anyone ever getting bail," Ben replied.

"Which would be just fine with me. How do we know this man's vendetta is over? Maybe he wants to take out the whole police department."

"That's ridiculous."

"Says who?" Guillerman turned to face Ben. "You yourself said the man was crazy."

"I said we plead the affirmative defense of temporary insanity. Emphasis on the 'temporary.' It's over."

"How convenient." Guillerman turned to face the judge. "You honor, how long are we going to allow this gamesmanship to continue? We all know what happened here. The facts are not in dispute, not to any appreciable degree. This nonsense about temporary insanity is nothing but a cynical attempt to let a man get away with murder."

"Excuse me," Ben said, taking a step toward the bench, "but I thought we were arguing bail, not making closing arguments. There is nothing cynical about this plea. My client poses no flight risk or danger to society. That is a fact. And not even the distinguished DA can bury the facts, no matter how hard he may try."