“A trial date?” Connors asked rhetorically. “How long will we need?”
“Six to eight weeks,” Vanderbeck replied.
“Not a chance,” Connors said to him. “Four at most. Get your act together. Marc?”
“I’m thinking three to four,” he quickly agreed just to stay on the judge’s good side.
“Okay, we’ll schedule it for four and be prepared to take testimony evenings and weekends if necessary. I’m not going to keep the jury sequestered any longer than necessary.” Connors looked at the calendar on his desk then said, “Monday, January twenty-sixth.”
“I’m okay with that,” Marc said.
“I have a conflict,” Vanderbeck said. “I was planning a vacation then.”
“Where are you going?” Connors affably asked.
“Florida to visit friends,” Vanderbeck lied.
“Have a good time. I’m sure Ms. Hart can handle things until you get back. Get your discovery done. I don’t want to hear any excuses. All motions to be completed by the twenty-fourth.”
“Have you decided where we’re going to pick the jury?” Danica Hart asked.
“Yes, and it’s in the process of being arranged. How much notice will you need?”
“We’ll be starting jury selection on January twenty-sixth?”
“Yes,” the judge answered.
“When can we get a list of the jury pool?” Vanderbeck asked.
“The twenty-fourth. In fact, let’s schedule another conference for that day for any last minute problems, motions or whatever needs to be done.”
“That’s not enough time with the jury pool,” Vanderbeck objected.
“How about we just take the first twelve people through the door?” Marc challenged.
“Seriously?” Hart asked. “I’m tempted.” She said with a twinkle in her eye and a mischievous smile.
“Don’t be silly,” Vanderbeck practically barked.
“Anything else?” Connors asked. “No? Good. I’ll have an order out in the next couple of days. If I don’t see you before then, have a Merry Christmas.”
The three lawyers went into the courtroom to leave and found it almost full of media people. The horde rose as one when the attorneys passed by and exited through the hallway doors. When they got out into the hallway, several of them went after the state’s attorneys while others stayed with Marc. Vanderbeck was only a few feet away and Marc could hear him piously informing them that they would have no comment since their policy is and always will be to not try cases through the media.
Gabriela Shriqui had squeezed through the crowd to stand directly in front of Marc. Smiling directly at her he told them the hearing was no big deal. It was just a conference to discuss and resolve some routine issues. Gabriella was the first to ask specifics. Despite the fact that Marc suspected she was the main recipient of leaks from the sheriff, he couldn’t help liking her. She was just doing her job.
“Nice try, Gabriella,” Marc said as he turned and walked away.
When Vanderbeck and Hart reached the exterior doors leading out to the parking lot, Vanderbeck said to her, “Get the car and pull it up in the circle. I have a call to make.”
Hart gave him a nasty look and said, “You’re quite the gentleman, Lowell.”
Ignoring her and stepping away, he placed the phone to his ear. A moment later, Sheriff Cale answered. The two of them had a brief exchange then Vanderbeck turned to wait for Hart and at the same time Cale called Stu Doyle into his office.
FORTY-ONE
When Marc left the courthouse, he drove straight to the Rileys’ house to give them an update. Although she was not strictly confined to the house by the terms of her bail release, Brittany Riley did not like to go out in public. The few times she did, people immediately recognized her. A couple of times someone would make a nasty comment but mostly they would stare then move away as if she might be contagious. Brittany tried her best not to show the hurt those actions caused. Bad enough she had lost her baby so cruelly but to be tried, convicted and treated like a leper by the public was immensely painful.
Marc had not bothered to call ahead. They knew about the conference he was coming from and would be waiting for him. Although Floyd was back to work, Barbara had been granted a leave of absence and could take as long as she wanted. Even so, rather than hang around the house, she went into work two or three times a week anyway. The tension, stress and depression, with which everyone in the family had to deal, needed to be relieved. Barbara, Floyd and Tim could at least go to work where there were friendly, supportive people. Brittany was stuck.
Marc turned the corner to drive down the street to the Rileys’. He had not been here for almost a week and what he saw shocked him. There was only one TV van parked across the street looking cold and forlorn. And there wasn’t a single protestor marching up and down. Apparently Old Man Winter had tested their commitment and resolve and found them wanting.
He parked in their empty driveway and as he strolled up the walkway to the front door, he couldn’t resist waving at whoever was in the van, probably filming him. Floyd opened the door before he could knock and they greeted each other as Marc stepped into the house.
The four took seats in the living room and Marc explained what happened in court. Brittany was not looking well at all. The bags under her eyes, the disheveled, apathetic look of a very pretty young woman were certain indications of the stress she was under. When Marc told her about the trial date, she became visibly more alert. The news that the case had a finite time limit had a very positive effect.
“I need to talk to Brittany alone about something,” Marc said to her parents. Barbara had heard this so many times by now it no longer annoyed her, especially since she knew she could get out of Brittany what they talked about once Marc left.
“Let’s go in the dining room,” Brittany said.
They looked at each other across the dining room table. Marc reached forward, took her hand and said, “You’re not looking well. You’re not eating, sleeping or taking care of yourself. You’re depressed and you need to be in therapy.”
“I know,” Brittany said with a weak smile as she squeezed his hand.
Marc released her hand and sat back in his chair while saying, “I have a psychiatrist I want you to see. We need to have a plausible explanation for the jury of why you took so long to call the cops and report Becky missing.”
“You know why,” Brittany bitterly replied as she turned to look at the living room where her mother waited.
“I need to have you see a professional, an expert we can call at trial. Plus, the prosecution will want to have an expert to talk to you if we do. It’s very important.”
“Okay, if you think it will help. Whatever you say, Marc,” Brittany agreed. “When?”
“Tomorrow. She has set aside two hours tomorrow afternoon. Two o’clock.” Marc handed her a business card with the doctor’s name and address on it.
“She’s in Eagan?” Brittany asked rhetorically after reading the card. “My mother will want to sit in.”
“I’ve already warned Lorraine about that. She’ll let Barbara sit in for a while but then ask her to leave. She’s an M.D. which means she can write prescriptions. Ask her for something to help you sleep.”
Marc took a few minutes to tell her about the plea offer from Vanderbeck. He barely got the words out before Brittany was emphatically telling him no. She would never say she hurt Becky, even if she went to prison for the rest of her life.
Marc turned his head toward the back of the house. He looked past the drawn curtains, through the patio doors and out at the snow covered patio. With a curious expression, he stood and walked to the patio doors and looked over the backyard.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” Brittany asked as she came up behind him.
“Get your dad for me please.”
While Brittany went to retrieve Floyd, Marc continued to look at the patio area, especially the wall around it.
“What’s up?” Floyd asked when he arrived at the window with Brittany and Barbara trailing.
“How many bricks did it take to build that wall?” Marc asked.
“Oh, geez, I don’t remember. It’s been what,” he turned to look at Barbara, “three years ago last summer when we built it?”
“Yes, it was,” Barbara agreed.
“And you had a few of the cinder blocks left over when you finished?”
“That’s right,” Floyd agreed. “I don’t remember how many. Maybe five or six. I shoved them under the shelves in the garage and haven’t looked at them since. Not till the cops were here.”
“We need to figure it out. We need to know if one of them is missing. Did you give any of them to anyone…?”
“No, uh uh,” Floyd said with certainty.
“…for any reason? Where did you get them?”
“Menards.”
“Did you pay cash or use a card?”
“I have a Menards card that I use there,” Floyd answered.
“Would you still have the receipt?” Marc asked Barbara.
“I doubt it,” she answered shaking her head. “I’ll look but I don’t usually keep them that long.”
Marc sat down in the same chair at the dining room table. He placed his left elbow on the table and his hand cupped over his mouth while he stared at the opposite wall. After a minute or so he removed his hand and looked at the three Rileys.
He turned to look at Barbara and said, “Okay, Barbara, try to find the receipt or at least figure out when they were bought. If you can’t find the receipt we’ll subpoena Menards and see if they can pull it out of their computer. Let’s hope so.”
Robbie Nelson was on vacation. He was taking a few days off to visit his mother’s home in Rockford, Illinois for Christmas. This was a bit of a problem because that meant there was no one at the station to babysit Melinda. When he was absent, Melinda’s wine consumption during the day had a tendency to start earlier and last longer.
It was barely two o’clock and Melinda was about to finish what had been a full liter of Chardonnay. She and Cordelia Davis were reviewing all of the film for today’s show to make editing decisions. They were in one of the station’s edit rooms when they heard a light knock on the door. Cordelia opened it to find Gabriella Shriqui standing in the hall.
“Hey!” Cordelia said. “What’s up?”
“Is Robbie in there?” Gabriella asked as she peeked around Cordelia to look in the room.
“He’s on vacation for Christmas,” Cordelia said. “Come in,” she added as she stood back to allow Gabriella to enter.
Melinda turned to look at Gabriella standing in the doorway. “What do you have? Anything I can use?”
“Maybe,” Gabriella answered trying not to commit.
“What? Tell me.”
Gabriella stood silent for a few seconds deciding how much to tell her. “I got some information from a source about Brittany Riley. I have a meeting with Hunter now and I wanted Robbie to sit in.”
“What do you have? Can I use it?”
“That’s what I’m seeing Hunter about.” Gabriella answered. “Maybe Cordelia could…”
“No,” Melinda said as she stood and walked toward the door. “She can stay here and start editing. I’ll go with you.”
“That’s not necessary…”
“Yes, it is! Let’s go.”
The two women took chairs in front of the news director, Gabriella’s boss, Hunter Oswood.
“What do you need?” Oswood asked.
“I got a tip from a source over lunch,” Gabriella began. “There was a scheduling conference with the judge and lawyers this morning on the Riley case.”
“They set a trial date?” Oswood asked.
“January twenty-sixth.”
“That’s pretty quick,” Oswood said.
“Yeah, it is. That’s not what I wanted to talk to you about. My source claims Brittany’s lawyer, Marc Kadella, offered a plea deal. She would plead to second-degree murder if the judge would agree to a maximum sentence of twenty years.”
“That is huge! I want it for today’s show,” Melinda said practically jumping out of her chair.
“There’s more.” Gabriella turned away from Melinda and looked back at Oswood. “There’s a big deal going on about jury selection. They’re selecting the jury in a different venue. Kadella’s worried about all of the publicity. He believes his client has already been tried and convicted by the media,” she continued turning to look at Melinda who ignored the comment.
“One of the prosecutors suggested they simply take the first twelve people through the door to use as a jury. Kadella about had a fit that anyone would even suggest that. Finally, Kadella tried to get some evidence excluded but the judge turned him down.”
“I want it! I want to use all of it,” Melinda repeated.
Oswood held up a hand to quiet Melinda, then said to Gabriella, “You don’t seem quite as enthused about this as Melinda. Why not?”
Gabriella hesitated for a couple of seconds then said, “It doesn’t sound right to me. I know Marc Kadella a little bit and I’m just not sure I buy this. I’ve talked to him several times and he is adamant that Brittany is innocent. This sounds like bullshit coming from the prosecutors to taint the jury pool.”
“Oh, nonsense…” Melinda started to say but Oswood cut her off.
“Is there any way you can verify this?” Oswood asked.
“I could call Kadella,” Gabriella said.
“He’ll just deny it,” Melinda protested.
“She’s right. Anyone else?”
“I’ve tried talking to the prosecutors on other things. They just say ‘no comment’ then leak what they want through the sheriff,” Gabriella said.
Oswood picked up his desk phone and dialed an extension. “I have Melinda and Gabriella in here. Could you come in and join us? I’d like your input.”
After replacing the phone, in less than a minute the station G.M., Madison Eyler came through the door. Instead of sitting down, she leaned against the window frame next to Oswood’s desk.
“Tell her,” Oswood said to Gabriella.
After repeating the story for Eyler, including her misgivings about the story’s veracity, Gabriella sat back and waited for a decision.
“I’m not real crazy about it,” Eyler said to Oswood. “It would be nice if we had another source for verification. Have you used this source before?” she asked Gabriella.
“Yes,” Gabriella nodded her head.
“And?”
“The information has always been good before,” Gabriella answered.
Eyler turned back to Oswood and said, “This is going to make her look really guilty.”
“I know,” Oswood agreed.
Eyler said to Melinda, “You want to run with this?”
“Hell yes. She is guilty for Christ’s sake. What’s the problem?”
“We’re going to have to put you on the air, Gabriella,” Eyler said.
“I know, how about if I say we have not been able to confirm this from any other source?” Gabriella answered.
“Good idea,” Eyler said.
“Bullshit!” Melinda yelled. “It’s still my show and…”
“You still work for this station. Have her say the disclaimer. Relax Melinda. The audience won’t even hear it. Do you have time to film the show again?”
“No, but we can do it live. I’ll lead with this and the rest of it I can do from the teleprompter.”
“Okay, we’ll go live on your show. Use a tape for the newscasts then promo your show to repeat at 6:30,” Eyler decreed.
Melinda’s show went on live at 4:00 and led with Melinda interviewing Gabriella reporting the leak. Gabriella was her normal, professional self and truthfully reported what she had been told and gave the ass-covering disclaimer.
Unfortunately, since Robbie was not around to monitor and curtail Melinda’s drinking problem, the effects of the three additional
glasses of wine she drank after leaving the meeting in Oswood’s office were kicking in about this time. Melinda completed the interview of Gabriella and after Gabriella left, she got through the scripted part of the remainder of the show just fine. Melinda decided to wrap up the show by proclaiming that Brittany must be guilty, otherwise, why offer to plead? Also, her lawyer is using every trick in the book to prevent the jury from seeing damning evidence.
“I hope you have a very Merry Christmas, Brittany. I hope the death of your beautiful little baby girl doesn’t prevent you from a joyous Christmas and a very Happy New Year. And folks, if you’re out and about on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day, be sure to stop by the Rileys’ and wish Brittany a very Merry Christmas.”
As bad as that was, her alcohol-addled mind decided it would be a good idea to read the Rileys’ address to the audience, which she proceeded to do three times.
Oswood and Eyler argued for a half hour about a rerun of the show at 6:30. Eyler, being Oswood’s boss, had the final say and the show was put on as scheduled. She did agree to cut out the part where Melinda gave the Rileys’ address. Too little, too late. The damage had been done.
Melinda was forced to take a vacation through New Year’s, a suspension that was rescinded the very next day when the overnight ratings came in. The four o’clock show was up almost fifteen percent and the 6:30 was up almost forty percent over the time slot’s normal audience. The viewing public had spoken loud and clear. Their voyeuristic appetite for the Brittany Riley reality show could not be sated.
Gabriella Shriqui called in sick the day after the broadcast and did not return to work until December twenty-ninth.
FORTY-TWO
Christmas Eve day was a balmy, sunny, wind-free thirty degrees. The winter had been prematurely harsh and the Cities had already received almost three feet of snow. This day was fairly mild and actually quite pleasant to be out, in fact, too much so.
They had started showing up on the Rileys’ street the day after Melinda’s grossly negligent broadcast. That day there had been almost two thousand of them lined up and down opposite their house. Many carried homemade signs of varying degrees of quality, none that were favorable on behalf of Brittany and many over the line and quite obscene.
Marc Kadella Legal Mysteries Vol 1-6 (Marc Kadella Series) Page 118
