Steven Gore - Act of Deceit

“And did these have the result of restoring him to competence?”

“As you well know, his attorney obtained an order preventing his further involuntary medication.”

Blaine glanced at Donnally, then at Perkins, and finally back at Sherwyn.

“Doesn’t that suggest that the defense wanted to ensure that Mr. Brown would remain incompetent so he’d never have to face trial for the murder of Anna Keenan?”

“Objection!”

“I ’m reminding you again, Ms. Perkins, please stop trying to bootstrap his mental history into an argument for his current competency.”

Studying Perkins from where he sat behind Blaine, Donnally realized that she’d been quicker than the judge and she already had. But he wasn’t sure why.

“I gave you a great deal of latitude in examining Dr. Sherwyn,” Nanston continued, “but they’re separate issues.”

Perkins glanced down at Charles Brown sitting next to her at the counsel table, then back up at Nanston.

“The problem we’re facing is that my client has refused to cooperate with the psychiatrist we hired to evaluate him. We’re in a Catch-22. She can’t even determine whether his refusal to speak to her is an indication of his incompetence.”

Judge Nanston paused for a moment, then said, “If the only evidence you have is historical, then you may need to forgo this competency hearing altogether, proceed to trial, and put on an insanity defense.”

Blaine reached his hand behind his back and flashed Donnally a thumbs-up. It seemed to Donnally that it was too soon to celebrate. Perkins hadn’t made partner at SSB by failing to get what she wanted.

Perkins shook her head. “That’s impossible at this point.”

“Why?”

“There’s no way to recreate the defendant’s mental state leading up to the time of the homicide. Very few of his psych records prior to that date still exist.”

Nanston leaned forward. “Excuse me, Counsel?”

“The county hospital records have long been purged and just a few moldy fragments remain of the file that traveled with him from Atascadero to the various developmental centers. The only complete report that exists is Dr. Sherwyn’s and it contains almost no history.”

Nanston looked toward the prosecutor, brows furrowed, eyes accusing.

“Did you know about this, Mr. Blaine?”

Blaine rose.

“We informed the defense as soon as we discovered the records were missing.” He looked at the defense table, then smiled. “At this point I believe that the most complete record of the defendant’s mental history is contained in the public defender’s file Ms. Perkins received when she entered the case.”

Perkins glared at Blaine, then held up a few handwritten pages and almost unreadable fragments from the Elsa’s Home for Men file Donnally had passed on to Blaine.

“This is all we have, Counselor.”

Nanston’s voice turned harsh. “Ms. Perkins, please direct your comments to the court.”

Perkins looked up at the bench.

“I’m sorry, Your Honor. But I resent the district attorney’s implication that this burden falls to the defense. After all, it was his office that didn’t bother to preserve these records.”

“Your Honor,” Blaine said, “I hardly-”

Nanston held up her palm. “Just a moment, Mr. Blaine.”

The judge turned her gaze toward her law clerk sitting in the jury box taking notes. He didn’t look up, unaware that all eyes in the courtroom bored down on him.

“Let’s take a ten-minute recess.”

Nanston rose and walked down the two steps from the bench and into her chambers, followed by her staff.

Blaine stepped toward the low barrier behind which Donnally stood.

“What’s she doing?” Donnally asked.

“I don’t know, but I sure hate it when judges get ideas on their own. They just screw things up and make unnecessary work for both sides.”

They looked over at Perkins to gauge whether she’d divined what the judge was thinking. She rolled her eyes and walked over.

“What wheel is the judge trying to reinvent this time?” Perkins asked.

“I haven’t the slightest idea,” Blaine said, then looked back and forth between Perkins and Donnally. “You two know each other?”

“No,” Donnally said, reaching out his hand. It annoyed him that she seemed so likable.

Perkins gave it a firm shake, then asked, “What brought you into this?”

Donnally shrugged and flipped the question back. “I was wondering the same thing about you.”

“I’m surprised to be here.” Perkins smiled. “The Albert Hale Foundation’s choice in causes is sometimes rather bizarre.”

Donnally smiled back. “I take it you got your fee up front?”

“We gave them a discount rate. Half price. A case this big fulfills most of the firm’s pro bono obligations for the year.” She glanced over at her two legal assistants sitting at the defense table. “And it gives the kids some experience.”

“I don’t understand why Albert Hale picked Brown,” Donnally said. “I did some research. On crime issues, the foundation is usually on the other side.”

“I think you may be looking at this backwards. It may not be about Brown being some kind of victim, but”-Perkins glanced at Blaine-“more about embarrassing the prosecution. The theme that runs through most of their causes is government incompetence and weakness.”

Blaine smirked. “So they try to prove their point by helping a murderer go free? Hale must be nuts.”

“I know it’s crazy,” Perkins said. “We tried to explain it to him-”

“To Hale personally?” Blaine asked.

Perkins shook her head. “I’m not sure anyone has actually seen Hale in years. He put millions of dollars into the foundation, then disappeared from public view.”

“But you think he remains the invisible hand?”

Perkins nodded. “The president of the foundation says Hale is on a mission he’s not sure even Hale comprehends.” She looked at Donnally. “Did you see that environmentalist on television the other day, the idiot who said he’d give his life to save a damn tree frog?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “That’s Hale, except his tree frog today is a lunatic.”

Donnally rotated his thumb toward Brown sitting hunched over and rocking back and forth at the defense table.

“You sure you want to refer to your client as a lunatic?”

Perkins smiled again. “As often as I can.” She winked. “Maybe I’ll even convince myself.”

The bailiff’s “All rise” stifled the courtroom conversations.

Donnally returned to his seat while Blaine and Perkins walked back to the counsel tables.

Judge Nanston was on the bench when Donnally looked up.

Nanston’s gaze shifted back and forth between Perkins and Blaine, then she took off her reading glasses.

“Ms. Perkins, would you outline for me the materials the prosecutor has given to you in discovery?”

Perkins squinted up at Nanston. “I’m not sure why you want-”

“You don’t have to be sure why I want to know.”

Perkins turned to her cocounsel, Doris Tevenian, who searched through a banker’s box, then handed her a list. Perkins showed it to Blaine, then read off the items.

“We have the original crime scene reports, witness statements, and forensic analyses. A two-page psych report from Dr. Sherwyn when the defendant was taken for the evaluation on the day of his arrest. We have the reports of the psychiatrists from his first competency hearing-”

“Do those address his mental history?” Nanston asked.

“Only tangentially, Your Honor.”

“Have you contacted the doctors to determine whether they retained the defendant’s records?”