William Bernhardt - Blind Justice

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Out of corporate life and on his own, lawyer Ben Kincaid sees the seamy side of the law every day. There's no glamour and little reward when it comes to defending the lowlifes who beat down his door. But when a friend is set up for murder, Ben has no choice but to enter the world of hardball litigation and face a judge who despises him in a trial he is guaranteed to lose. Apple-style-span BLIND JUSTICE

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And there’s nothing you can do to prove otherwise, Abshire said but did not say, unless you put the defendant on the stand, something no defense attorney ever wants to do. Having smoked out Ben’s Miranda argument during the preliminary hearing, Abshire and Moltke had put their heads together and figured out a clever way to salvage the evidence.

“No more questions, your honor,” Ben said regretfully. He returned to defendant’s table.

“Any redirect?”

“I don’t see the need,” Moltke said. Derek smiled back, obviously in agreement.

“Very well. Mr. Abshire, I thank you for your testimony.

You may step down. Mr. Prosecutor, call your next witness.”

35

“THE UNITED STATES CALLS Officer John Tompkins.”

Tompkins, the surprise witness from the preliminary hearing, took the stand in full uniform. If the jury had liked Abshire, Ben thought, they were going to love this guy. It would be difficult to imagine a straighter arrow.

Moltke introduced Tompkins and ran through his background, before and after he joined the police force. Eventually, they discussed the day Tompkins went to Christina’s apartment to assist the follow-up investigation of the breaking and entering. He described his initial conversation with Christina, the search of her apartment, and the discovery of cocaine in the Betty Boop doll.

“Was there any identification or marking on the drugs?”

“Yes. The top plastic Baggie contained a strip of paper with the word Lombardi written on it.”

“Officer Tompkins, based on your years of experience in matters of this sort, can you draw any conclusion from that strip of paper?”

“Well, the obvious conclusion is that these drugs were part of a shipment received by or intended for a man named Lombardi.”

“Do you have any idea how Ms. McCall might have obtained the drugs?”

“Objection,” Ben said. “Calls for speculation.”

“That’s all right,” Moltke said. “I’ll withdraw the question. I believe the jury is capable of putting two and two together.”

Yeah, Ben thought. Especially if you do the math for them.

“Now, how many days after Lombardi’s murder was this?”

“Just three, sir.”

“So three days after Lombardi was killed, Ms. McCall had the drugs that were probably delivered to him the night of the murder.” Good grief, Moltke, why don’t you just draw a diagram on the chalkboard for them. “Based upon your years of experience, Officer, would a person of average intelligence be able to dispose of these drugs?”

“Easily,” Tompkins replied. “I hate to admit it, but there are well-known drug drops all over Tulsa. We can’t possibly police them all. Anyone who wants to score some drugs could do so.”

“And would this cocaine be valuable?”

“Extremely so.”

“Now, you were in Ms. McCall’s apartment, Officer. Would you say she is a wealthy person?”

“Objection!” Ben said.

“Overruled.” Derek motioned to the witness. “Proceed.”

“No, I would not. All indications were of a relatively low income level.”

“Do you think a quantity of cocaine such as you discovered could significantly improve such a person’s lifestyle?”

“Again, your honor, I object!”

“I think you’ve made your point, Mr. Prosecutor,” Derek said.

“Very well, your honor. No more questions.”

Ben positioned himself for cross-examination. He knew he had to be careful. The jury didn’t want to see Tompkins taken apart; after all, he was just doing his job. Ben would have to impeach him without casting any aspersions on his character or competence.

“Officer Tompkins, you testified that the packet of drugs you allegedly found in Christina’s apartment bore a label with the word Lombardi written upon it, right?”

“That is correct.”

“Isn’t that rather unusual?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Well, drug smuggling is a criminal activity, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“People don’t normally go around posting signs saying THIS IS MY STASH OF ILLEGAL DRUGS, do they?”

“The label was probably affixed by the supplier.”

“And why would the supplier want to create identifying labels? Isn’t he just as subject to criminal liability?”

“Probably more so.”

“And if Lombardi gets caught, the supplier is likely to go down next, isn’t he?”

“It does often happen that way. But the fact that an activity might not be prudent doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. You have to realize we’re not discussing rocket scientists here. These are drug smugglers.”

Score one for Officer Tompkins. “Nonetheless, Officer, before this incident, had you ever seen a similar label?”

“No,” Tompkins admitted.

Hallelujah. “Now let’s talk about this cocaine in the stuffed doll. The doll was not intact when you found it, was it?”

“No. All of the dolls were damaged. A chunk of their midsections had been removed.”

“That’s strange. Why would anyone tear up a bunch of stuffed animals?”

“Possibly a rival member of Lombardi’s organization was searching for the stolen drugs.”

“And somehow that rival member knew to look for the drugs in the stuffed animals?”

“The entire apartment appeared to have been ransacked.”

“Tell me, Officer, if this rival knew to look for the drugs in the dolls, and ripped open the dolls while looking, why didn’t he find and take the drugs?”

There was a short pause. A line appeared between Tompkins’s brows. This question obviously had occurred to him before, and it troubled him.

Suddenly, Derek broke the silence. “Counsel, I think that question calls for speculation. Let’s move on.”

Ben turned slowly toward the bench. “Excuse me, your honor. Was there an objection?”

“No,” Derek said, casting a quick look at Moltke, “although the need was obvious. I’m sure the prosecutor was just being polite. The court, of course, has the inherent discretion to limit speculative testimony. Move on.”

Ben stared at him, speechless. Ben was finally making some headway, and Derek was shutting him down.

“I said, move on, counsel.”

Ben closed his trial notebook. “I have no more questions, your honor. Other than those the court has just forbidden.”

Derek looked at him sharply, but let it pass. Since there was no redirect, the witness stepped down.

“It’s been a long day,” Derek said, “and I don’t want to inundate the jury with too much information at once. We’ll resume tomorrow morning at nine o’clock with the prosecution’s next witness.”

He banged his gavel against the bench. “Court is adjourned.”

36

BEN WAITED UNTIL EVERYONE but the security guards had left. He was overdue at the office. He needed to prepare for the next day’s trial, he needed to see how Christina was holding up, and he needed to contact Wolf’s parents. But he was determined to talk to Derek first.

Derek was still puttering around in chambers—making phone calls and attending to administrative matters. Ben decided to give him time to unwind, take care of his business, and have a quick snort from the bottle of Scotch he’d removed from his bottom desk drawer.

Ben stood just outside the doorway and listened while Derek dialed the phone. “Hello, Louise?…Yeah, I’m still here.…I don’t know, I’ll probably be home in an hour or so.…Of course I’m working, I started a trial today, for God’s sake. Where else would I be?…Look, Louise, I don’t give a good goddamn what you suspect. I’ve been in court all day, and you can take it or leave it.…Yeah, well, the hell with you, too.”

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