“Yes, I believe so.”
“I’ve highlighted the part that reads account owner. Will you read the name to the jury?”
“Brittany Riley.”
“I’ve highlighted the date of this account statement, the period it covers. It is for July of last year, is it not?”
“Yes, it is.”
“That would be the same month Beck Riley disappeared, was it not?”
“Yes, it was.”
“In the lower right-hand corner on the first page, I’ve highlighted something. Would you tell the jury what this is, please?”
“It is the total amount in the account.”
“What is that total?”
“One hundred twenty-seven thousand six hundred thirty-eight dollars and seven cents.”
“In the upper right-hand corner is the statement date. What is that date, detective?”
“August third.”
“So, on August third of last year, a few days after Becky disappeared, Brittany Riley had one hundred twenty-seven thousand dollars in an investment account. Is that correct?”
“Objection, your Honor,” Vanderbeck foolishly said. “Where is the relevance?”
“Overruled,” Connors quickly said. “The witness will answer.”
“It appears so, yes.”
“Your office, the sheriff’s office subpoenaed these records, didn’t you?”
“Objection,” Vanderbeck tried again.
“He’s the lead investigator, your Honor. He knows.”
“Overruled”, Connors said.
“Um, yes, I believe we did.”
“You believe you did or you know so?” Marc asked still standing only a few feet from Anderson.
“Yes, we did.”
“And you received two years worth of account statements from Fidelity of the investment account of Brittany Riley including the one in your hand didn’t you?”
“Yes, we did,” Anderson admitted setting the document on the railing in front of him and leaning away from it as if it might bite him.
“Did you tell the jury that Brittany Riley had one hundred twenty-seven thousand dollars in this account when Becky was abducted?”
“No, we saw no need…”
“I didn’t ask if you saw a need. I asked if you told the jury this. Did you?”
“No, I did not.”
Marc walked back to his table and picked up another document, went back to Anderson and handed it to him.
“Detective Anderson, I have handed you another document. It is another account statement from the same Fidelity account, isn’t it?”
“It appears so,” Anderson said.
Marc picked up the one Anderson had set down, handed it back to him and said, “Please detective, compare the account numbers on both documents to be sure.”
Anderson did so then said, “Yes, they’re from the same account.”
Marc retrieved the first one then stepped back and said, “Please read the highlighted date range of the statement you are holding, the month it covers.”
Anderson read it to the jury.
“This is the same month that the life insurance policy was taken out on Becky Riley, correct?”
“Yes it is.”
“On page three, under the heading withdrawals, I have highlighted a date and an amount. Please read that to the jury.”
Anderson read them.
Marc walked over to the jury box and retrieved the life insurance policy Vanderbeck had given the jury to examine that was now on the rail in front of the jurors. He then walked to his table and picked up another document, walked back to the witness and handed both to Anderson.
“The date the insurance policy was signed is the exact same date as the day of the withdrawal from Brittany’s account that you just read to the jury, is it not?”
“Yes, it is.”
“The other document I just handed you is an account summary of the life insurance policy, state’s Exhibit 7 is it not? Please check and compare the policy number on both.”
Anderson did that and admitted they were the same.
“On the life insurance policy investment account summary, I have highlighted a deposit and the date of the deposit. Read those to the jury.”
Anderson read them to the jury.
“They are the exact same date and amount as the withdrawal from Brittany Rileys’ savings, aren’t they?”
“Yes, they are.”
Marc went back to his table and sat down. He looked at Anderson and said, “Detective, when you found the life insurance policy, state’s Exhibit 7, after you read it over, saw whose life it was on and who the beneficiary was, you immediately thought; Ah, ha! Got it! Motive! Here it is! Didn’t you?”
“Yes, I guess so,” Anderson answered almost flippantly.
“You guess so?”
“Well, motive would be up to the lawyers to determine…”
“I’m not asking them, detective. I’m asking you as a veteran investigator, did you not believe you had found motive when you saw the insurance policy?”
“Sure, I did,” Anderson admitted.
“You didn’t tell the jury that the same day the insurance policy was executed, Brittany Riley transferred thirty thousand dollars from her personal savings into the investment account of the insurance policy for her daughter, did you?”
Anderson visibly squirmed in his seat then said, “No, I didn’t.”
Marc narrowed his eyes, pursed his lips and glowered at Anderson for a full ten seconds. “You swore to tell the whole truth did you not?” he practically shouted.
“Objection!” Vanderbeck yelled as he jumped to his feet.
Marc slapped his hand on the table as he stood and yelled, “I object to the amount of information these people are trying to keep from this jury!”
“That’s it!” Connors said as he hammered his gavel. “Time out. I’ll see the lawyers in chambers, now!”
As Connors was leaving the bench Marc leaned down and whispered in Brittany’s ear, “I’m about to get my ass chewed but it was worth it.”
He turned around and saw the disappointed mother look on Madeline’s face and the smirk on Carvelli’s and winked at them both.
Marc joined everyone in the judge’s chambers in time to hear Vanderbeck demanding that Marc be sanctioned if not disbarred.
“Calm down,” Connors told Vanderbeck. “Maybe you should bring these things out on direct instead of letting him do it.”
“As for you,” he said turning to Marc. “I’m not even sure if what you did was wrong, but no more histrionics. Any more of it and I will have a large piece of your ass in the form of a check. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, your Honor,” Marc said without meaning it.
“It’s after four, your cross-exam is done and I don’t care if you don’t like it. We’re going to call it a day and give everyone a break. I’ve had enough.”
“Your Honor, I demand …” Vanderbeck started to say.
“Demand?” Connors said.
“Request, your Honor, an opportunity to redirect before we adjourn for the weekend,” Vanderbeck said while Hart looked at him with a horrified expression on her face.
“Really? You want to go back out there and go over everything he just did to your case again?” Connors asked.
“No, your Honor,” Hart interjected taking the opportunity to stop Vanderbeck from likely making things worse. Vanderbeck started to speak to her but she held up a hand and cut him off. “Lowell, we can’t unring the bell they just heard. Leave it alone.”
A furious Vanderbeck turned and stomped off and the rest of them followed him back into the courtroom.
While waiting for the gallery to empty, Brittany asked Marc what happened in chambers. Maddy had joined them at the table and listened while Marc answered her.
“No big deal. Connors told me to knock it off. But I got exactly what I wanted. I have no doubt they were counting on me to do a much longer cross of Stu Doyle this morning
so that their direct exam of Anderson would be the last thing done today. They wanted the jury to have that insurance policy to be the last thing they heard to think about over this weekend. Instead, the last thing they heard was my claim that the prosecution is trying to hide things from them. Let the jury think that over until Monday morning.”
FIFTY-SEVEN
Marc was planted on the couch in front of Margaret Tennant’s sixty-inch flat screen. They were flipping through the channels checking the 5:30 network and cable newscasts. Each of them had their own “legal expert” giving a one to two minute summary of the day’s testimony of the Riley trial. Almost all of them showed film of Paul Anderson testifying about the life insurance policy. This would be followed by a serious, somber opinion by their “legal expert” on how devastating the day’s testimony was for Brittany.
“You know, you’re getting your ass kicked, according to the news reports,” Margaret said.
“Think so?”
“Yes, I read both the Minneapolis and St. Paul papers every day and it doesn’t look good for you.”
“Should I be worried and when is dinner, I’m hungry?”
“No, you should not be worried. I saw your cross of the cop this afternoon, what’s-his-name?”
“Anderson.”
“And I thought you drilled him. We’ll eat in a few minutes.” She poked a finger into his ribs and in mock seriousness said, “You’d better not be too tired tonight.”
“I’ll do my best, ma’am.”
They finished their meal and Marc helped clean up afterward. It was almost 6:30 and Marc wanted to catch Melinda Pace’s show.
“Why do you torture yourself by watching this woman?” Margaret asked.
Marc thought it over for a moment then said, “Curiosity? I’m not sure. It’s like watching a car accident and taking some perverse delight in the scene. You know you shouldn’t but you just can’t look away.”
Marc hit the power button on the remote and a close up of Melinda came up on the screen. The show was starting and she was introducing herself and her two guests, the lawyers Steve Farben and Andrea Briscomb.
Melinda was seated in the middle of the anchor desk with Farben to her right and Briscomb to her left. She turned first to the former prosecutor Farben and said, “Interesting day at the Riley trial today, wouldn’t you say?”
“Definitely and another day of bad news for the defense,” Farben said into the camera.
For the next three minutes they showed Stu Doyle testifying about all of the steps the sheriff’s office had taken in their effort to locate Bob Olson.
“He’s kind of cute,” Margaret commented trying to tweak Marc a bit.
“From what I hear, he thinks so too. He hit on Maddy today. She told Gabriella Shriqui, the reporter with Channel 8. Gabriella told her he is a married womanizer. Maddy says she might teach him a lesson.”
“Oooo! If she does, tell her I want to hear about it.”
Marc looked at her, shook his head and said, “I’ll never cross a woman again. You people are vicious.”
The camera came back with a wide shot of all three people on the set. Melinda was cued by the director in the booth and she asked Farben, “What do you think?”
“I think Brittany Riley’s lies are catching up with her. Obviously, the police did everything they could to find this mystery boyfriend. They left no stone unturned and found nothing to back up her story,” Farben replied.
Melinda turned to Briscomb and asked, “As a defense lawyer, how do you think Brittany’s lawyer, Marc Kadella, handled this witness.”
“Well, Melinda, I’m reluctant to denigrate a colleague but Kadella seems to be a bit over his head,” Briscomb said acting as if it bothered her to say it.
“Let’s look at a bit of his cross-exam,” Melinda said into the camera.
The edited version of Marc’s exam of Doyle made it look as if he was grasping at minor points. It ran for just under two minutes. While it was being shown, Margaret asked Marc, “Do you know her?”
“Who, Briscomb?”
“Yeah.”
“No, not really. I met her at a couple of seminars. Enough to say hello. Why, do you know her?”
“I went to law school with her. She was a conniving, back-stabbing bitch then and it looks like she hasn’t changed. I haven’t had her in my courtroom yet.”
The screen was again filled with the three people at the anchor desk.
“It was a pretty weak cross-exam,” Briscomb said.
“For sure,” Farben, agreed. “Most of his examinations have been. He’s not getting much out of the prosecution’s witnesses to help his client. I’ve heard he’s a respectable trial lawyer, but so far, we’re not seeing it.”
Margaret, seething while watching this said, “If he ever shows up in my courtroom, I’m going to cut his nuts off.”
“See what I mean about vicious women?” Marc said.
“Who does this asshole think he is?”
“Relax. This whole thing is a staged set-up. She’s totally playing for ratings.”
At that moment, Melinda’s show went to a commercial break.
Marc watched the three minutes of commercials while Margaret opened a fresh bottle of wine. When she came back and sat down, Marc pointed at the screen and said, “Her ratings must be really good. This is a local show and the advertisers are all national brand names. Interesting.”
The second half of the show was devoted to the testimony of Paul Anderson. While Marc and Margaret watched, the next ten minutes were filled with a carefully edited version of the prosecution introducing the life insurance policy and the items taken from the Rileys’ garage. Both lawyers and Melinda agreed the life insurance policy may be the “smoking gun” that would nail down a conviction of Brittany Riley
The only part of Marc’s cross-examination of the detective they showed was the moment Vanderbeck objected. They then showed Marc slapping his hand down on the table standing and yelling, “I object!” but edited out what else Marc said about keeping things from the jury. Then the judge calling a recess.
“Clearly, Kadella lost his grip there,” Melinda said.
“Absolutely,” Briscomb agreed. “And it won’t do his client any good.”
“It was a brilliant moment for the state. Now the jury’s last image of the week, the one they’ll each have all weekend is the life insurance policy and Brittany’s out-of-control lawyer. Devastating day for Britany Riley,” Farben chimed in.
“Wow,” Marc softly said as he changed the channel. “I thought my cross went pretty well.”
Margaret was sitting up on her knees staring in disbelief at what she had just seen. “I watched most of your cross myself with a couple of other judges. We all agreed you did great. What the hell are they talking about?”
“So you saw it, right?”
“Yes, we all agreed you hammered him. And that business about the state keeping things from the jury was brilliant, if somewhat unethical. The last thing the jury heard was you telling them the prosecution was keeping things from them.”
“Brilliant! Really? Wow, I’m not sure anyone has ever called me brilliant before,” he said laughing as she punched him on the shoulder.
Marc’s phone was buzzing but it didn’t wake him. Margaret slapped him on his bare butt and whispered in his ear to wake up and answer it.
“Hello,” he groggily said while noting from the bedside clock it was after midnight.
“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” he heard Maddy Rivers ask.
“No, it’s okay. I was just sleeping anyway.”
“Oh, God. Did I wake Margaret?”
“Yep.”
“Apologize for me please.”
“Okay, what’s up?”
“I thought you’d want to know. She’s back.”
“That’s great. I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” Marc said still half asleep.
“What? Wait. Don’t you want to know who?”
“I suppose.”
“Julie Makie.”
“And who is she?”
“She’s the girl that worked at Macy’s with Brittany. She was in China. Remember?”
“Oh, yeah. Now I remember,” he said, fully awake now.
“You ready for this? She returned my call this evening, about an hour ago. She’s in Oregon so…”
“Madeline, get to the point please,” Marc politely interrupted.
“Okay. Anyway, I emailed six sketch artist drawings of men to her, including the one of Bob Olson. She identified Olson immediately.”
“She recognized him?”
“You got it. Says she remembers him hanging around Macy’s. She even talked to him. She said she thought he was kind of hot but he was obviously checking out Brittany.”
“Now what?” Marc said while putting on his shorts and undershirt.
I told her we’d call her tomorrow. I filled her in on the trial and she said she’d be happy to testify but she has no money to get here…”
“No problem. We’ll take care of it.”
“I told her that. But she can’t come back until next week. Her dad’s going in the hospital for more treatment. Cancer.”
“I remember. Next week will be fine. I’ll call you tomorrow. We’ll call her from my office. Nice job, sweetheart. I owe you one.”
“Did you remember to add her name to your witness list?”
Marc paused for a second thinking, then said, “Yes I did. I remember it now. I remember thinking it over and decided to put her on the list.”
“All right! Talk to you tomorrow.”
FIFTY-EIGHT
Marc and Madeline arrived at Marc’s office simultaneously, Maddy driving into the lot right behind him. It was just before 10:00 A.M. and the air temperature was warmed to a plus twenty. The sun was shining brilliantly, there wasn’t a hint of a breeze and it was predicted to be a very pleasant winter day. It was the sort of day the natives broke their cabin fever and got out to enjoy. Of course, because it was so nice out, the semi-professional protestors were slowly parading around the front and side of the building.
Marc Kadella Legal Mysteries Vol 1-6 (Marc Kadella Series) Page 129
