William Bernhardt - Capitol Offense

“I am aware of your position, Mr. Kincaid. And I do not doubt that you genuinely believe it. But we have rules and procedures in this justice system of ours. Surely you must realize-”

“I’ve been down this road before,” Ben said firmly. “Trying to get someone out of the clutches of the criminal justice system when I knew he was not guilty. Seeing a good man rot away in prison because the wheels of justice turn so slowly.”

“I admit the system is flawed-”

“But no one ever wants to do anything about it. That’s why so many trials go bad. That’s why more than a hundred people have been released from death row because DNA evidence proved the criminal justice system totally screwed up. That’s why-”

Behind him, Ben felt Christina tugging at the back of his coat. He coughed into his hand. “But I digress…”

Since Dennis Thomas’s conviction, Ben had alternated between halfheartedly planning an appeal and mostly wallowing in his own guilt. He should’ve done this, he should’ve done that. Nothing made him feel better. Despite Christina’s best efforts to bring him out of his funk, all he could think about was the fact that there was a man in prison-a man on death row, no less-because he’d let himself be outmaneuvered by a sharp district attorney positioning himself for reelection.

Then he got the call from Loving. Mike, actually, on behalf of Loving. Slowly he was able to put the pieces together. Within twenty-four hours, he was back in front of this court with a motion to set aside judgment based upon newly discovered evidence. Ben presented an affidavit from Loving in which he described in detail everything that Shaw had told him. The intentional killing of Joslyn Thomas. The deliberate refusal to investigate. The drugging of Dennis Thomas. The cesium black market operation that lay behind the whole complex drama.

His motion was denied. The judge took it all into consideration, but he noted that the standard for setting aside a jury verdict was very high, and rightly so. Otherwise there would never be any finality in any case. He noted that the affidavit had been sworn out by someone who worked for the defense attorney, which of course went to its credibility. He also noted that it was all hearsay, a form of evidence disfavored by the courts, and that Loving had recently been drugged and was suffering bouts of memory loss as a result.

A week later, Ben was back with another motion. This time he had an affidavit from Mike detailing the entire police investigation, not only of the death of Christopher Sentz but also of Joslyn Thomas. A subsequent, more intensive investigation at the crime scene revealed evidence that Joslyn’s accident had been engineered, then covered up, by a third party-Christopher Sentz. He also detailed the investigation into the cesium robberies and how they related to the Thomas case, and noted that Peter Shaw had perjured himself at trial and others might have done so as well.

The judge admitted that he was impressed. He admitted that it appeared the whole truth had not come out at trial. But he saw no clear indication of anything that likely would have altered the jury’s verdict. Mike was unable to explain what had happened in that hotel room. Motion denied.

Dennis had sat beside Ben for both hearings. Ben had warned him that this was a difficult business and that he should not get his hopes elevated. But how could he not? He was a human being. How could he help but hope that this would be the time he finally found justice? But it never happened. Ben let him down again, just as he had done at the trial.

And every time, Dennis looked a little older, a little more tired, a little more beaten. It had only been three months, but his hair was already grayer. His eyes sagged. His skin was pale, almost translucent. This was not a man who needed to be in prison. Or who, Ben suspected, would survive long there.

“The point of this third appearance, your honor, is that we have even more newly discovered evidence. And this time it’s being provided by the district attorney’s office.”

Judge McPartland raised an eyebrow. He looked over at the prosecution table. “Is this true?”

Guillerman nodded. He didn’t look happy about it. Truth was, Mike had orchestrated the whole thing, and it had taken a long time. He had to get the cooperation of a host of law enforcement officials, both state and federal. Eventually he brokered a deal. Shaw received a reduced sentence-and his sister was guaranteed medical treatment. In exchange, he agreed to testify at this hearing. Once Mike had the whole matter arranged, Guillerman had little choice but to go along with it.

“Very well then. Mr. Kincaid, please call your witness.”

“I see now that my head was all messed up. I couldn’t think straight. I wasn’t sleeping well. Drinking too much. Taking pills to help me stay calm. You got to understand-I’ve never been married. I have no children. My sister is my whole world. The one who was always there for me. The one who stood beside me when the rest of the world couldn’t care less. I could not watch her die because we couldn’t afford the health care she needed!”

Shaw, like Dennis, had also changed much in the three months since the trial. He’d lost a good deal of weight. He’d shaved his goatee. His skull was stubbly. Ben knew he had spent most of that time incarcerated at the Tulsa County Jail. Perhaps he did not have access to the usual grooming tools.

But Ben also sensed a certain calm about him. A rectitude, perhaps. As if, now that all the secrets were out, he didn’t have to hide anymore, and he was relieved about it. Better to bask in a harsh sun than to cower in shadows.

“I was horrified when I heard what Chris had done. Driving that poor woman off the road like that. Covering it up. She never did anything to anyone. She spent her days trying to help the sick and dying. And this was her reward? Just because Dr. Sentz was sloppy? It wasn’t right.”

Ben felt Dennis flinch each time Shaw talked about the horrors that had been visited upon his wife, but somehow he managed to keep it together. Ben didn’t know how. Perhaps Dennis had also acquired some strength during the intervening months.

“I knew Chris was stonewalling the investigation. I thought it was a mistake. Better to seem to cooperate than to create suspicion. But he didn’t see it that way. He was afraid she might still be alive-which was correct, as it turned out-and he didn’t want her found anytime soon. That’s why he was so upset when he found out what Officer Torres had done. He was afraid he would be found out. Didn’t happen. He overreacted. And his overreaction set the whole drama into motion.

“After the body of Parsons was discovered, dead from radiation poisoning, the Tulsa police began an investigation into the murder, and then later into the cesium smuggling operation. Unfortunately, since Sentz was in charge of that one, too, it never got anywhere. He figured the safest way to make sure the cops never got close to him was to run the investigation himself. The stakeout at the Marriott was a big smokescreen based upon faked nonevidence. The irony was, we were the smugglers we were supposedly hunting.”

Behind him, Ben saw reporters scribbling furiously. The clickety-clack of laptops had been deemed too distracting, so they were forced to resort to pen and paper, which for many of them, Ben suspected, was a new and strange experience.

“I totally used Dennis Thomas. Dr. Sentz knew his stupid guilt-ridden brother had to be eliminated, but he was too weak to do it himself. He just made little hints, you know? Basically hoping someone else would do it, so he wouldn’t have to come face-to-face with what he was-the kind of monster who could contemplate killing his own brother. So I drugged Dennis Thomas. He was our patsy. He took the fall, and covered up our whole operation in the process.”