Bill Harvey Collection

by Peter O'Mahoney

  “That’s not true…”

  “Isn’t it? Her statement said that it isn’t the first time you hit her. Her statement said that you hit her repeatedly over a number of years. The incident that led to this statement was the worst. You hit her three times, leaving her with a brutal black eye.”

  Bud didn’t reply.

  Picking up the police photos off the table, Harvey circulated the report and photos to the Judge, Miss Valentine, and the jury. They all recoiled in disgust as they viewed the pictures of Jessica Lempare’s blackened eye.

  “Did you hit her, Mr. Morgan?”

  “There were no charges laid,” he whispered his response, still avoiding eye contact.

  “That wasn’t my question, Mr. Morgan. My question was if you physically struck Jessica Lempare. You haven’t told us what happened that day.”

  “She fell.”

  “After you hit her?” Harvey could tell that his line of questioning was starting to grate Bud Morgan and he was playing right into his hands. Harvey’s approach was a textbook character attack, and he was going to keep prodding until he got the result that he wanted.

  “There were no charges laid against me. I’ve never been charged with hitting anyone.”

  “But that is also not entirely accurate, is it, Mr. Morgan?”

  “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I have never been charged with any criminal offense in my life. You can check my police file. It should all be there—or not there—because there is nothing to find. You can’t just start accusing me of criminal behavior when I’m not a criminal. I’ve never been charged with anything criminal in my life.”

  “If I check your police file, I won’t find any criminal charges. That’s correct.” Harvey took a long pause, looking over the papers on his desk. “But why don’t you tell the court why you were discharged from the army?”

  Bud’s face went pale.

  “Mr. Morgan?” Harvey questioned.

  He didn’t answer.

  “Is it true that you were discharged from the army because you hit a female nurse across the face? She was trying to help you, Mr. Morgan, and you hit her.”

  Bud looked at his hands as his darkest moment was revealed to the court.

  The pain of his most humiliating moment was being relived. Bud Morgan had suppressed that memory for as long as he could, but he could no longer avoid it.

  “You see things in war…” he muttered. “Things that people should never have to see. I didn’t… I didn’t have control…”

  Harvey’s heart sunk for him. The men and women that served their country had his utmost respect. “Go on.”

  “I couldn’t help the way I reacted. I had just seen… children… women…” His eyes glazed over, looking to a far away place. “I saw things that weren’t right. I was in shock. And this nurse… I didn’t mean to hit her. I didn’t mean to do that. It was just how my body reacted. I couldn’t control it. Something inside of me snapped.”

  “Is that what happened when you hit Jessica?” Harvey asked softly.

  “Jessica?” he questioned. “No. I spent a lot of time with Norman Chester, Anna’s grandfather. He was the first one who helped me. He introduced me to other men that had been through the same thing. It was sort of like an unofficial support group. That’s why I started the Recovering Veterans charity. I wanted to help people the way that Norman helped me. I’d be dead if it weren’t for Norman. That’s when I first met Frank Matthews as well. He helped me too. He was a part of that support group. I spent years in therapy trying to recover from the shock. I recovered from my post-traumatic stress disorder with their help, both Frank and Norman, and my support group.”

  “You recovered?”

  “Yes. I owe those men everything. I would be dead if it weren’t for them. Sometimes I get angry, but they’re always there for me. I owe them everything and I would do anything for them. Anything. That’s who I was having a drink with the afternoon that I saw Anna in the bar, my support group. They are my support network. Without them, I would be nothing.”

  A thought grew in Harvey’s head, and he stalled for a moment, letting the thought develop.

  “Was Frank Matthews at the bar that night?”

  “He was. He’s one of my strongest supporters.”

  Bill Harvey’s mind raced back to his conversation with Jessica Lempare.

  “Did you serve with Frank Matthews?”

  “No. He served at a different time.”

  “Did anyone in your support group serve with Frank Matthews?”

  Bud looked at Harvey confused. “No, I don’t think so.”

  “And who is set to gain the most from the passing of Jessica Lempare?” Harvey became lost in his own thoughts.

  “Anna. She’ll receive half the funds, and the Recovering Veterans charity will receive the other half,” Bud stated, a little confused. “And her ex-partner, Frank Matthews, inherited what little she had.”

  As Harvey stood in the courtroom, staring at the respected veteran, he had a moment of clarity.

  Bud was innocent. He had no doubt about that now.

  But that reduced his list of killer options…

  CHAPTER 22

  Bill Harvey quietly sat down behind his table, his mind a blur of connecting thoughts. He gazed into the distance; barely hearing Judge Wilmot call to adjourn the court for the evening.

  “Harvey.” Investigator Jack Grayson tapped him on the shoulder as the crowd started to file out from the courtroom. “Bill?”

  “Jack…” Harvey slowly turned around. “I need you to do something for me.”

  “What’s going on?” Anna interrupted, a desperate tone in her voice.

  He looked across to Joanne Valentine’s table and saw that they were all listening intently to Bill Harvey’s next move. He offered Valentine a smile, gathered his files, put them into his briefcase, and stood up proudly.

  Valentine offered a smile back to him. “Bill, you’re the only man I know that could take on this case, and still look confident, but I must say that your confidence is misplaced. You can’t win the case from here. If your client would like to negotiate a deal, then we can still listen.”

  Valentine closed her laptop before sliding the thin computer into her bag.

  “That’s the difference between you and me, Joanne.”

  “What’s that?” Valentine asked, confused by his statement.

  “You rely on the punching of a keyboard to guide your case. Your case is built on formality and process. Our case is not. Our case is built on intuitive feeling. You won’t see a computer on my desk. You’ll see handwritten notes that encourage thought, rather than typed words that follow a process.”

  Valentine sighed. “Each to their own. Regardless, intuition won’t get you out of this corner.”

  Turning back to Anna, Harvey smiled. He leaned closer to her, whispering, “It isn’t time to run yet, Anna. Go home and rest. Tomorrow is going to be a big day.”

  She nodded, having complete faith in the man defending her. His resilient confidence soothed her nerves.

  Nodding for Jack Grayson to follow him out the door of the courtroom, Harvey stopped after they had left the room and reached a quiet corner of the courthouse. When the passing crowd had moved by, and he was left alone with Jack, he turned to him, looking him in the eye.

  “Your play didn’t go to plan,” Jack stated. “You made Bud look even more innocent than he already is. The jury is going to have no choice but to find Anna guilty at the end of this case. Right now, it looks like she’s going away for a very long time.”

  “And if she’s guilty of murdering her aunt, then that’s justice,” Harvey replied. “She deserves to go to prison if she has committed a murder.”

  “But it’s not exactly doing the best thing for your client.”

  “Maybe,” Harvey said. “And maybe it is. If she did kill her aunt, then prison will teach her to control her anger. Prison may rehabilitate her before she kills someone else
with that rage.”

  “Do you really think she’s guilty?”

  “I’m not sure, but I’m quickly running out of options.”

  Jack spotted the prosecution team walking close by and stalled their conversation as they passed. The prosecution team unconsciously leaned closer to Jack, trying to listen for any hint they could gather. Although they were in front regarding the case, they were wary of Harvey’s reputation.

  Once they had passed through the corridor, Jack returned his attention to Harvey. “How many options do you have left?”

  “Two.” Harvey thought about the days ahead. “And I don’t want to get to the last option.”

  “I guess your last option is Anna. If you look at all the evidence, then it does point to Anna. She was there at the murder scene, she was angry, and she had the motive to strangle her aunt. If we step back and look at the bigger picture, then she does look guilty.”

  “None of that proves her guilt. It makes it more likely that she’s guilty, but none of it proves that she killed her aunt. None of the evidence is definitive in saying that Anna is guilty. All we have to do is say that it is reasonable that someone else could have been there. Of course, that job is made easier if we can present someone as another reasonable choice.”

  “We’ve already lost two of the reasonable choices. So, who is left as a reasonable choice?”

  “Jack,” Harvey stated. “I want you to find out everything that you know about Frank Matthews.”

  “Frank Matthews? I’ve already gathered information about Frank. It’s all in the file. He’s a respected veteran, a former boyfriend of Jessica Lempare, and he works for the charity. He’s connected to this case in many ways, but none of that makes him a reasonable suspect.”

  “And thank you for compiling that file. It was exactly what I asked for at the time. But it’s all surface information. There was something about Frank Matthews that didn’t sit well with me when I first met him. There seemed to be something bubbling under the surface of his personality.”

  “What am I looking for?”

  “Anything suspicious. There was something about him that set alarm bells ringing the first time we met. I think he’s hiding something. And I think that he was trying to control Jessica—to make sure the money never went to Anna. I’m not sure why he would be doing that, but I think that if we figure it out, then we might give ourselves a stronger chance in this case.”

  “Sorry to burst your bubble, but some of the jury members reacted really well to Bud’s testimony. They obviously have a lot of respect for Bud and his war history. Frank Matthews would be the same. He’s another respected veteran.”

  “There was something about the way Frank avoided my question about the war… If I didn’t know better, I would say that he was lying.”

  “Are you saying that he was lying about being a veteran?”

  “I’m not sure what he was lying about. But when I asked Frank about the Gulf War, he displayed some of the tell-tale signs of lying. There were two key indicators that he did when I asked him about the war. One: he tried to dissipate some of the anxiety by grooming his immediate surrounds, and two: he had a very typical hand-to-face activity that indicated a lie.”

  “I’ll look into it.” Jack nodded. “And remind me to never lie around you.”

  “You’re like an open book. I don’t have to look that hard to know when you’re lying.” Harvey winked. “But sometimes it’s best to leave the little lies alone.”

  Jack laughed. “I’ll dig a bit deeper into Frank Matthews’ past and see what I turn up. What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to the Recovering Veterans office and having a chat with the man himself.”

  “This man could be a killer. If he killed for the sake of that estate, then I’m sure that he could kill again. Would you like me to come with you?”

  “I’m a big boy. I can look after myself.”

  “I know you can.” Jack patted his friend on the shoulder. “But my worry is that you seem to find trouble wherever you go.”

  “I always do my best to avoid trouble,” Harvey said with a cheeky grin.

  Yet both men knew that his statement was far from the truth.

  Trouble was a fundamental part of Bill Harvey’s life.

  CHAPTER 23

  The drive to the charity office was quick, giving Harvey little time to overthink the situation. He preferred it that way.

  When given the chance, he could think about the same situation one hundred times, running over the possibilities time and time again. When Bill Harvey went on his first date as an eighteen-year-old, he wrote down every possible outcome he could imagine. Despite the sixty-four pages of detailed notes, he didn’t plan that his blind date would be the daughter of a well-known gang leader. From that day forward, he had tried to control his need for overthinking.

  When he walked into the entrance of the Recovering Veterans charity office, the secretary sent him straight through to see Frank.

  As Harvey opened the tall glass door, Frank was seated behind the large corporate desk. He was hunched over, squinting at the documents, desperately trying to read the words.

  “Acting CEO today Frank?” Harvey quipped as he walked into the spacious, clean space.

  Frank Matthews looked up from the paperwork in front of him. The air in the office was cold, too cold for a sunny day in Los Angeles.

  “Not at all,” Frank replied. “We’re a team here. That’s what makes us so efficient as a charity. Please take a seat.” Frank pointed his open hand towards a chair opposite the desk. “I didn’t expect to see you here over the next couple of days. I expected that you would have been preoccupied with the trial.”

  Frank stood and walked over to the cabinet at the right side of the room, opening the cabinet door to expose a large selection of expensive spirits. He took two glass cups in his left hand, placed them on the desk, and then poured two glasses of whiskey.

  Once poured, he handed one across to Harvey.

  “Thank you,” Harvey said, sitting down after taking the glass. “It’s funny that you should mention the court case. That’s the reason I’m here.”

  Frank cleared his throat with a deep cough, and sat on the edge of the desk, positioning himself in a more authoritative position than the defense lawyer.

  “Please, tell me how I can help.” Frank’s voice had a tone of mockery.

  Pausing to take a whiff of the whiskey, and then a sip, Harvey looked into Frank’s green eyes. “The murder trial is going as expected. This afternoon, we had John Morgan on the stand. He said a few interesting things when questioned about the situation. Tell me, how well do you know Bud?”

  “Very well.”

  “Do you care to elaborate on that relationship?”

  Frank drew a long breath and looked away from Harvey’s glare. “I first met Bud after he came to a support group for veterans who were struggling with their return to reality. He was in quite a bad way at that time. Over the next year or so, he got better and asked me if I would like to help other people like him. We got Norman Chester onboard as a sponsor, and he was just giving us money. Then Norman passed away, and we found that Norman had left money to the charity in his will. I have been beside Bud ever since then. He’s a good man. He suffered post-traumatic stress disorder, and that’s a horrible thing. It can ruin a person’s life from the inside out. You don’t want to see what that’s done to some of our great veterans. Great people have been turned in blubbering messes. It’s ruthless.”

  Just as Harvey went to respond, his phone buzzed in his pocket.

  “Excuse me,” he said to Frank. “This message might be important.”

  As Harvey read the text message from his investigator Jack Grayson, a smile carved across his face. Jack had confirmed what Harvey expected.

  “You served in the Gulf War, Frank?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “And who with?”

  “The army.” Frank stared hard at the ma
n opposite him.

  “That’s funny because there’s a record of your name serving in the army… but the only photo of you in the army doesn’t match your face. It’s a photo of someone else. Do you find that strange?”

  “No.” Frank chuckled as he stood up and walked behind the desk to sit down in the large office chair. “Back then, staying alive was more important than keeping records. It wasn’t like it is today—not everything was recorded every time. When you’re fighting in a war, keeping records become second place. They messed up the photo. That’s no big deal.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes.”

  Harvey took a deep breath. “Do you think that the men and women you served with would recognize you?”

  “Of course.”

  “And if we brought one of those people into the courtroom, they would say that under oath?”

  “What are you implying?” Frank raised his voice as his left fist clenched.

  “You didn’t serve in the Gulf War, did you?”

  “I don’t like your tone. I don’t like it at all. I don’t like what you’re saying.”

  “And Jessica found that out, didn’t she?”

  “I think it’s time for you to leave. I don’t have time to listen to fanciful stories.”

  “From our first interaction, it was clear that you weren’t a veteran. You don’t have the posture of a veteran. You don’t have rugged skin, your hair isn’t perfectly clipped, and your shirt is badly ironed. Now I could have accepted one of those mistakes. But all of them? No. It was clear to me that you have never served this country.”

  “Come now,” Frank said, calming down with a smile. He leaned back in his chair, full of confidence. “This story is a bit far-fetched. Clearly, you’re barking up the wrong tree. All you’re trying to do is deflect the attention away from Anna.”

  “That’s the thing, Frank. I’ve recently come across some evidence that changes this case,” Harvey said with a grin on his face.

  “Ha!” Frank laughed. “If you had evidence, then you wouldn’t be sitting here. You would be exposing that to the world. You don’t have evidence of anything. All you have is a theory. And you can take your little theory away from here now. I’m a busy man, and I don’t have time to listen to your stories. I don’t have time for this sort of stress. I have people to help.”