Chapter 23
Sabre, Bob, and JP finished their lunch at Pho’s and walked out to the parking lot.
“I’ve got to run,” Sabre said. “I have a trial this afternoon. Later, guys.”
JP watched as Sabre walked to her car.
“Why don’t you just ask her out?” Bob said.
“What are you talking about?” JP said.
“You’re ogling like a pimply-faced teenage boy in the girls’ locker room.”
“I’m not ogling.”
Sabre pulled out of her parking space and drove past where JP and Bob were standing. She rolled down her window and said, “See you tonight, JP.”
Bob slapped him on the shoulder. “You dog.”
“Yeah, she invited me to her house to watch a video.”
“So she had to take the first step. What’s the matter with you? Well, it’s about time anyway. Now, don’t screw it up.”
“Let it go, Bob. I’m going to her house to watch the security video on the Copley case. It’s not a date.” JP turned to walk away, then stopped and said, “By the way, my cow died last night, so I don’t need your bull.” He walked toward his car.
Bob laughed and then yelled after him. “I can’t believe you already screwed up the date before you got a chance to have one, McCloud.”
JP shook his head. I never should’ve told him about DuBois and the “McCloud” story. He gets a hold of something and he doesn’t let go.
***
Sabre had the flash drive in the computer and ready to go when JP arrived. He was feeling a little uncomfortable because he kept thinking about what Bob had said. He did care for Sabre, but that didn’t mean he could do anything about it. What would she want with this old cowboy?
“Would you like something to drink? Water, tea, coffee, beer?”
“A beer. Thanks.”
“Coors Light okay?”
“Is there any other kind?” He wondered if it was a coincidence or if she knew what kind of beer he drank. Of course she didn’t.
JP sat down on the sofa in front of Sabre’s laptop. Sabre returned with a beer and handed it to JP.
“Just push Enter and the video will start,” Sabre said.
“Have you watched it yet?”
“No, I haven’t had a chance.” Sabre picked up a keychain flash drive shaped like an airplane and handed it to JP. “I made you a copy in case you want to watch it again later.”
JP looked at the object. “An airplane?”
Sabre pointed to the side of it. “See, it says Boeing on the side. A friend of mine works for Boeing and he got them for me. It was some promotional thing.” She wrinkled up her face. “Sorry, it’s the only flash drive I could find in the house except for a Sylvester and a Tweety Bird. I thought you’d prefer the plane. Next time I’ll try to get you a boot or a cowboy hat, or perhaps a pistol shape.”
“That’s all right, the plane is fine. I just never saw one before. And I’m glad you didn’t go with the Tweety Bird. If Bob saw it, he’d never let me hear the end of it.”
Sabre took a seat mid-sofa next to JP.
“How about we fast forward it until we see Sister Maria and then we can work backward from there?” JP suggested.
“Good idea,” Sabre said as she reached for the mouse, accidentally brushing JP’s leg as she did. “Sorry.”
He moved his leg. “No problem.” He tried to control his breathing that suddenly seemed heavy to him. He removed his hat and set it on the end table, just to have something to do.
Sabre fast-forwarded the video. “Watch for Sister Maria.”
“I am.” JP watched attentively. “Stop. There she is. She just stepped into the line to check out. Back it up just a bit.”
Sabre backed up the video.
“There’s a man in a baseball cap and sunglasses in front of the nun, but I can’t tell if it’s Irving or not.”
“I don’t see anyone with him,” Sabre said as the video moved forward. “Oh no, there is a kid with him.” The kid’s back was to the camera, but his dark, curly hair stood out and he was about the right height for Tray.
The man in the baseball cap reached for the boy’s arm. He caressed his bicep but stopped at his elbow, where he gripped a little tighter. Then he moved the boy closer to him. She hit Pause and Rewind and replayed the video from the time the nun came into sight.
“It could be them, but I can’t be certain. Keep it rolling so we can see if there is a clearer shot of either of their faces.”
JP and Sabre both moved to the edge of their seats as they watched the security video. The man in the baseball cap turned toward the camera, but his face was shadowed from the hat. Sabre stopped the video and zoomed in on his face and upper body.
“It sure looks like Irving,” JP said. “And see that shirt he’s wearing. Look.” He reached for the mouse. “May I?”
“Sure,” Sabre said.
JP zoomed in on the logo on the shirt. “There’s the faded In-N-Out logo on his shirt, just like the crime scene photos.”
“If that’s not Irving, someone went to a lot of trouble.”
“To do what, Sabre? Frame Tray? That doesn’t seem very likely.”
“I know he didn’t do it.”
“Or maybe he did.”
“Roll the video,” Sabre barked, a little harsher than she intended.
JP looked directly at her and said softly, “I know you’re madder’n a mule chewin’ on bumblebees, but I think you’d better start considering the possibility that he did do it.”
His comment made her chuckle. She took a deep breath and said, “I apologize. You’re probably right. Besides, I don’t need to take it out on you. I’m just frustrated.”
“When you have me investigate, you always tell me you want the truth, no matter what it is.”
“Maybe this time I don’t.” She sighed. “Besides, even if that is Irving, it doesn’t mean it’s Tray.”
“You’re right.”
JP started the video again. The man was paying for the items and the young boy turned towards the nun, showing a good three-quarters of his face. When he did, Sabre gasped. “Oh, no!”
JP pushed Pause and Tray’s sweet face illuminated the screen. Sabre’s eyes looked wet and she swallowed. JP wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her, but instead he reached across and put his hand on her shoulder. “We’re going to figure this out.”
Chapter 24
“Tray, we need to talk about the evidence the DA has against you,” Sabre said as she sat in the interview room once again at juvenile hall with Tray. “There are some things that we need to clarify.”
“Like what?”
Sabre removed some photos she had printed from the still shots of the security video. She showed Tray a photo of the young man in the store.
“Do you know who this is?”
Tray looked at her with a wrinkled brow. “That’s me.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah, those are my clothes. Where did you get the picture?”
“This photo is from the security camera at Albertsons. It was taken the day that Irving died.”
“No, it’s not,” Tray argued. “I wasn’t there. Why don’t you believe me?”
“So, this isn’t you?”
“I guess not.” His voice grew stronger and louder. “It can’t be ‘cuz I wasn’t there.”
Tray was so adamant about it not being him that Sabre started to wonder if there was another kid running around this town who looked just like him. But that made no sense either. Another kid with Tray’s clothes? There had to be another explanation.
“We’re going to figure this out.” Sabre found herself repeating what JP had recently said to her. She hoped she was more convincing than he had been.
Sabre showed him another photo. This one was of the man in the store. “Do you recognize him?”
He glanced at the picture, quickly turning his head away from it. “Was that Irving?”
“I don’
t know. Do you think it was?”
“I think so.”
The next photo was of the nun. “What about her?”
“I don’t know who that is.”
“Does she look familiar at all?”
“No. I’ve never seen her before.”
The same thing happened when Sabre showed him a photo of the clerk. He denied any recognition of her.
Sabre watched as Tray became more frustrated and eventually started to cry. “You don’t believe me, do you?” he said.
“Tray, I’m sorry you have to go through this, but I need to find out what happened. If you killed Irving, I’m sure it was in self-defense.”
“But I didn’t. You have to believe me,” he pleaded.
“I believe you don’t remember anything about what happened. I think maybe you blacked out and you’ve repressed what happened. That’s why you can’t remember being at Albertsons.”
“But I was at Dr. Bell’s office and then the skatepark. I remember being there. Ask Dr. Bell and Drew. It must be someone who looks just like me.”
“Maybe it is,” Sabre said. She didn’t want to remind him that Dr. Bell already said Tray wasn’t at the therapy session. He was too distraught already. Perhaps Dr. Bell has an explanation. I’ll go see him right after I have lunch with Bob.
***
Bob and Sabre sat in Pho’s eating their #124s, a dish of rice noodles with pork.
“You’re quiet today,” Bob said. “Is something wrong with my little SOB?”
“I’m struggling with Tray’s case. I don’t think any jury would convict him if we could show self-defense. But I don’t think we can provide evidence on the required elements.”
“And the elements of self-defense are what?” Sabre started to respond, but Bob said, “No, don’t tell me. I think I remember these from law school. There are three of them, right?”
“Right.”
“You would have to prove that Tray was in imminent danger of suffering bodily injury.”
“That’s correct, but it could also be of being touched unlawfully, which is more likely in this case. And the second element?”
“He would have to reasonably believe that the immediate use of force was necessary to defend himself against that danger. And third, that he used no more force than was reasonably necessary.”
“How can you remember that stuff from law school? I barely remember taking my tests, much less what was on them.”
Bob pointed to his head with his index finger. “It’s all up here. Sometimes it’s just a little harder to find it.” He wrinkled his brow. “So how can you show that it was self-defense if Tray claims he wasn’t even there?”
“That’s the problem, of course. If Tray would tell me what happened, I’d bet we could make a case for self-defense.”
“And if you presented evidence on each element, that would shift the burden to the prosecutor to prove that it wasn’t self-defense,” Bob added.
Sabre shook her head. “You’re amazing. Have you ever done a case claiming self-defense?”
“I’ve never handled any criminal case, except for one DUI, but we settled that.”
“Then how do you remember those things?”
“Beats me. My mind is filled with useless information.” He smiled. “You have been so adamant that Tray was innocent. Do you now think he may have killed him?”
“I don’t believe he murdered him, but he may have been protecting himself—although, I can’t for the life of me figure out how he could have ever been alone with him. There’s something wrong and I’m beginning to think that Tray is telling the truth as he remembers it.”
Chapter 25
Sabre asked Siri for directions to Dr. Bell’s office and then drove directly there. There was no receptionist, and the door to the office was closed. She waited in the small waiting area until he had finished with his patient, which was only about ten minutes. The doctor’s office door opened and a tall, thin woman came out and exited through the main door. The doctor could see Sabre once the door was open and he came right out.
“Hello, Ms. Brown,” Dr. Bell said with a smile.
“Hi, Doc. Do you have a minute? I need to talk to you about Tray.”
“Is he okay?”
“Yes, well…sort of.”
“Come into my office.” He led her inside.
“I’m sorry for just stopping in, but I didn’t know what else to do.”
“It’s fine,” Dr. Bell said. “I don’t have another session for an hour and a half. Have a seat and tell me what’s going on.”
Sabre informed the doctor about the security video and asked if Tray could have somehow blocked everything out.
“That’s very possible.”
Sabre suddenly had a bit of hope again. Not only did the doctor say it was possible, but very possible.
“However,” the doctor continued, “that defense is not without problems. I would be more than willing to testify that I believe that is what happened because, like you, I can’t believe that Tray could have killed Irving with malice aforethought. But if I remember from other self-defense testimony, there are a number of elements you must prove. Correct?”
“Yes, and it’s almost impossible without his testimony, and if he testifies, he’s going to say he never saw Irving and he didn’t kill him.”
Dr. Bell rubbed his chin, almost as if he were stroking a beard that was not there. “What can I do to help?”
“Don’t people often block out traumatic events?”
“Yes, it happens.”
“Let’s assume that Irving got Tray alone and attacked him. Let's also assume that Tray reacted and hit him with something that killed him. Couldn’t he have blocked it out?”
“Sure. He could have psychogenic amnesia.”
“And then he wouldn’t know that it happened, right?” Sabre asked.
“True. When a person has psychogenic amnesia they often can’t remember events leading up to the traumatic event, which would explain why he can’t recall the trip to Albertsons.”
“And couldn’t you testify to that?”
“I could, but….”
“No.” Sabre stood up, shaking her head. “I don’t want to hear a but.”
“I know.” The doctor tapped his pen on his desk. “I wish I could do more for him. I hate that he’s going through this. I could testify that he could very well have psychogenic amnesia and I could sound pretty convincing. However, Tray can account for his time, so instead of having a loss of memory, they will bring in an expert to dispute anything I say.”
“So, how do we make him remember?”
“Sometimes psychotherapy helps, but not always. I certainly wouldn’t recommend therapy for him at this point with a new therapist. If you can get a court order for me to continue, I will gladly go to the Hall to work with him. It’s not an ideal setting, but I’m willing to do anything I can to help.” He dropped his head down for just a second.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I just feel like I’ve failed Tray somehow.”
Chapter 26
Three months later…
Sabre and Bob sat outside Department Four waiting for their next hearing.
"If we don't get this case done before 9:30, can you cover it for me? I have the 707 hearing for Tray Copley."
"Sure, we're on the same side. You're just submitting on the recommendations, right?"
"That's it."
"So just how does the 707 work? I should know these things in case I ever decide to take delinquency cases or if I have to cover something for you."
"When a child is at least fourteen years old and has committed certain crimes, and murder is one of those, the prosecutor can bring a motion to have the case heard in adult court. The defense has to show why the child is fit to be tried as a juvenile. Deputy District Attorney Marge Benson brought the motion, and now Chris and I have to prove that Tray is fit to stand trial in juvenile court. We're prepared to put up a good fight. Ou
r biggest concern is Judge Palatini. Although we couldn't be certain, we knew we at least had a chance with Judge Trapnell. With this judge, anything could happen."
"How do you show Tray’s fit?"
"There are about five different criteria, and since he would do less time if he's tried in juvenile court, we must show that he could be rehabilitated by the end of his jurisdiction."
"Tray is a really good kid overall. He sounds like just the kind who should stay in juvenile. Besides, he's a little guy. He's going to have a really hard time if he goes to a facility with hardened criminals."
"I know. He's struggling to hold his own even at the Hall." Sabre sighed. "How's his mother doing?"
"She's back in rehab. She would’ve been here for the hearing, but she's in her first thirty days of sobriety and they don't like them leaving the rehab facility for any reason. She would’ve come anyway if it would make any difference."
"We'll inform the court, and hopefully the judge will be more impressed that she’s back in rehab. The foster parents are here and that looks good."
Sabre checked the time and stood up. "It's 9:25. I'm going to Department Three and see if they're ready. If I don't come back, start without me."
***
When Sabre walked into the delinquency courtroom, the bailiff said, "Right on time, Ms. Brown. I'll get your client."
A few minutes later, the bailiff seated Tray Copley at Sabre's right at the defense table. Attorney Chris Firmstone was to her left as they waited for Judge Thomas Palatini to take the bench. Neither Sabre nor Chris knew what to expect of this judge since he was new to juvenile court. When Judge Trapnell put in for a leave of absence, they brought Palatini in from trial court downtown.
Chris whispered to Sabre, "I hear he's a no-nonsense judge who doesn't like theatrics. He pays a lot of attention to the defendant's behavior, and he doesn't put up with bad attitudes."
"Then he should like Tray."
"I hope so."
A round-faced, short, bald man in his sixties took the bench. His robe covered the few extra pounds he was carrying.
The Advocate's Homicides Page 10
