“Mr. Kadella?” Feller said to Marc who was patiently waiting for his turn.
“Judge, they’re trying to get a first degree murder indictment. And let’s be grownups about this. They’re doing it as an ass covering exercise. I’m sure your Honor is aware of the negative publicity this matter has already generated…”
“I’ve seen the papers,” Feller acknowledged.
“A first-degree indictment will ruin my client’s reputation. The media is already crucifying her. I have no doubt we’ll get an acquittal at trial but who will believe she is innocent? The media is already on a campaign of ‘one set of laws for the rich’ and ‘one set for everyone else’. An acquittal will just feed that narrative.”
“He has an excellent point,” Feller said turning back to Anderson.
“That’s not our problem, your Honor.”
Feller gave Anderson a stern look of disapproval and said, “It should be. People need to have faith in the judiciary.” The judge looked at Marc again and continued, “I can’t make her. But,” he turned back to Anderson as he told the court reporter to go off the record, “you have to practice in these courtrooms,” he told Anderson, a not so veiled threat.
Marc retrieved the DVD of Mackenzie’s statement from his briefcase. He held it up and said, “This is a copy of my client’s videotaped statement. How about if she plays this to the grand jury?”
“Let’s take a look,” Feller said.
There was a television with both tape and DVD player attached in a corner of his chambers. Feller placed the disk in it and they all watched Mackenzie’s statement.
When it was over, Feller turned again to Anderson and said, “Seems pretty exculpatory to me. The forensics match Mrs. Sutherland’s version of what happened?”
“Substantially, your Honor,” Anderson reluctantly agreed.
“How about it? How about at least showing the statement to the grand jury?” Feller asked Heather.
“We have no obligation to…” she began.
“How about in the interest of justice?” Marc interrupted. “How about because the county attorney is supposed to be in business to find justice and not just political ass-covering!”
“Mr. Kadella,” Feller quietly said stopping him. “He has a point,” the judge said to Anderson.
Anderson noticeably sighed then said, “Let me call my boss. I’ll be right back.” With that, she stood up and started to leave.
“Tell Shayla I would take it as a personal favor,” Feller said before she opened the door.
While pacing up and down the back hallway, Anderson gave Shayla Parker a quick rundown of the hearing.
“What do you think?” Parker asked her when she finished.
“I’m inclined to agree to it,” Anderson said. “We get the same political coverage if they refuse to indict. Plus, we can leak it to the media that the Sutherland woman does have a strong self-defense case.”
“We can even leak some of the facts to support that,” Parker agreed.
“And there’s still a chance that they’ll indict her for something,” Anderson said.
“You think so?”
“No, but stranger things have happened. Even if they do indict, her lawyer will push it to trial. She has plenty of money for it and unless we can come up with something else, no way we can prove much of anything beyond a reasonable doubt. Kadella will never let her take a plea.”
“I just wish I hadn’t been so adamant about murder one at the press conference,” Parker said.
“Kadella’s been all over TV. No one will be surprised about the grand jury buying her self-defense story. Besides, you can act mad at the grand jury when you make the announcement.”
“If they fail to indict, you’ll make the announcement,” Parker informed her. “Okay, play the DVD for them.”
“The family is still going to try to exhume the old man. Who knows, maybe they’ll get it done and find something. I’ll talk to you later.”
Anderson went back to the judge’s chambers and announced their decision. They would show the DVD to the grand jury.
“I want to be in the room,” Marc said.
“No,” Anderson answered.
“Why? I have the right to protect my client’s interest…”
“Not in front of the grand jury you don’t,” Anderson said.
“Look,” Marc softened, “I’ll sit there and not say a word. You don’t even have to tell them who I am. I just want to make sure they see an unedited version of…”
“What are you accusing me of?”
“Nothing, Heather, relax,” Marc said.
“I don’t see why that should not be allowed,” Feller said. “He sits there and says nothing. If there is a problem, the two of you can leave the room to discuss it.”
Anderson mulled it over then said to Marc, “Not a peep out of you.”
“The soul of discretion,” Marc said, a statement that elicited a hearty laugh from Maddy Rivers.
The four of them, including Heather Anderson, went out into the main hallway. As they headed toward the elevators, a plain looking man who was standing in the hall walked up to them from behind. He was holding a letter-size manila envelope in one hand.
“Are you Mackenzie Sutherland?” he asked.
When she heard this, Madeline went into a “protect and serve” mode. She grabbed the man’s left wrist, pinned his arm behind his back, spun him around and slammed him up against the wall.
“Maddy, wait!” Marc almost yelled. “What do you have?”
Maddy had the intruder’s left arm bent behind him and his face flattened against the wall, her right hand on the back of his head. He held up the envelope in his right hand and muttered something that sounded like the word ‘process’.
“Let him go,” Marc quietly said while Anderson and Mackenzie stood back watching the show.
The man turned around and handed the envelope to Marc. While the process server rubbed his left shoulder and looked Madeline up and down, Marc told him he was Mackenzie’s lawyer, gave the man his name and said he would accept service for her.
While Marc looked over the papers, Maddy mumbled an insincere apology to the man.
“That’s okay. In fact, any time. I got a great story to tell,” he said as he hurried toward the elevators.
“Did you know about this?” Marc asked Heather.
“I may have heard something about it,” she replied.
“May have? You didn’t even ask me what it is. How did he know to find her here?”
“Give me a break, Marc. It’s not my problem. See you next Wednesday,” Heather said then turned and left.
“What is it?” Mackenzie asked.
“A motion to get a court order to allow them to exhume Bill Sutherland. They want another autopsy done.”
“Can they do that? Will they get it?” Maddy asked.
“I don’t know. I don’t know what the law is on it. I’ll have to do a little research. What do you think?” Marc asked Mackenzie.
“I think it’s grotesque,” she said with obvious annoyance. “That petty, vindictive bitch makes me sick. Let this poor man rest in peace.”
“What petty vindictive bitch?” Maddy asked.
“Paige Sutherland,” Mackenzie said almost spitting out the name.
“What about offering her a settlement?” Marc asked.
“I did not kill Bill Sutherland and I’m not going to say I did by paying off Paige the Witch. It’s the principle of…”
“There’s no such thing,” Marc interrupted her. “That word ‘principle’ is an emotional word that grownups should not use. Usually what it means is: ‘I am going to do something stupid because I am acting like a petulant child.’ Nine times out of ten it will cost you more than you gain.”
More calmly, Mackenzie said, “I didn’t do anything wrong and I shouldn’t have to reward her for it.”
“Besides,” Maddy said, “even if she settles with her what’s to stop her from exhuming the
body anyway?”
Marc considered the question then said, “That’s a really good point. Probably nothing.”
“Then,” Mackenzie said, “Excuse my language, but fuck her. We’ll fight it.”
Marc was seated on a bench in the hallway on the seventeenth floor of the Ramsey County Courthouse. He was outside the grand jury room waiting for the grand jury’s decision. The showing of Mackenzie’s interview had caused a noticeable stir among the twenty-two jurors. When it was over, several of them had questions about the legal definition of self-defense. Marc stayed long enough to hear Anderson’s explanation. He then slipped out while Heather was giving the grand jury their final instructions.
In the hallway, he was immediately accosted by a small herd of media types. Almost all of them were hitting him with questions at the same time. Marc held up a hand for quiet then told them he had no news for them. That statement stopped them for about four seconds before starting in again.
“No comment, no news, no nothing,” he repeated several times until they finally gave up.
Milling about the hallway were four more prosecutors waiting to present cases to the grand jury. Marc said hello to a couple of them that he casually knew then sat down on the bench to wait. About ten minutes later Heather Anderson came out and she was subjected to the same media attack. Fifteen minutes after she left the room a deputy came out and informed her the jurors had voted.
Marc watched her re-enter the jury room. Despite how well he believed the jurors received the video, he still felt a serious lump in his throat. Barely a minute later Anderson was back wearing her best poker face. She indicated to Marc to follow her into a side room.
“They voted no bill. No indictment,” Anderson told him. “I’m going to announce it to the media but I wanted to let you know first. I’m going to act really pissed off about it.”
A relieved Marc Kadella laughed at her last statement and said, “Do what you gotta do, Heather. I’ll let you go first then I’ll just say, ‘I knew my client was innocent. She acted totally in self-defense and the grand jury vindicated her.’”
“Okay,” Heather said. “I hate dealing with the press. Parker should do this but…”
“She would look like an idiot after her press conference,” Marc finished for her.
THIRTEEN
Mackenzie took the last bite of her chocolate croissant along with a swallow of her morning coffee. She was seated at the breakfast bar in the kitchen of the Crocus Hill house. Mackenzie blankly stared out of the kitchen window at a rare sighting of a Baltimore Oriole flitting about the backyard. While she watched the beautiful bird, she was clicking her perfectly manicured nails on the granite table top as she contemplated two problems: What should she do about Paige Sutherland? And what to do about the feelings she was having for Marc Kadella?
Mackenzie had moved back into the house over the weekend. On that Saturday night, Marc had taken her to dinner at the Lexington on Grand Avenue in St. Paul. They had a wonderful meal and the most pleasant time Mackenzie enjoyed since she could not remember when.
Toward the end of the evening they discussed her moving back home. Marc was concerned that living in the house where she shot Bob Sutherland would be too disturbing. Mackenzie assured him she would be all right. In fact, although she did not tell him this, she knew it wouldn’t bother her in the least bit.
Marc drove her back to the hotel and the two of them went into the bar for a nightcap. Mackenzie invited him up to her suite for the drink but Marc declined. He admitted that he was very attracted to her but had to go slow. Marc explained that there are serious ethical problems getting involved with a client. In fact, he could even be disbarred for it. The next morning Mackenzie woke up and the first thing she thought of was Marc. The thought was a very pleasant one and the feeling she was having Mackenzie had not experienced for a long time.
The Oriole flew off and Mackenzie’s thoughts returned to the present. It was Monday morning, a few days before the court date to exhume Bill’s body. She looked down at the morning paper she had pushed aside and frowned at her picture in it. Ever since the Ramsey County Grand Jury refused to indict her, a debate had raged through the media. The topic of the debate was whether or not the judicial system should be completely overhauled to avoid such a travesty in the future. Apparently the talking heads on TV and the newspaper editorialists had tried and convicted her.
Judges, lawyers, law professors and other qualified experts had weighed in and were unanimously on the side of no, the system worked fairly well. On the other side of the issue were those with the biggest mouths, egos and audiences, especially on radio talk shows and local TV. One of the local TV stations even did an hour long focus group discussion which drew significant ratings. Of course, the members of the focus group were all lay people whose biases are fed by the same media talking heads.
Marc Kadella was interviewed at least a dozen times. In addition, Marc and Mackenzie made another appearance on the Court Reporter with Gabriella Shriqui. Afterwards, Gabriella was very positive that they were extremely convincing about Mackenzie’s claim of self-defense.
A few days ago, the media frenzy, having wrung this story dry or so Mackenzie believed, had died down. Another celebrity show business divorce, a rock star and his supermodel wife, were sadly ending their three-month-old marriage and the nation’s attention span had shifted to that latest headline grabber.
Mackenzie picked up the newspaper and read the story about her again. A new round of gossip and speculation was about to begin. The news of the coming exhumation hearing was the topic this time. Paige Sutherland was quoted several times carefully accusing Mackenzie, without actually saying it, of murdering Bill Sutherland. Marc was quoted once explaining that an autopsy was performed and Bill died of a heart attack, pure and simple. There was no evidence to the contrary and Paige Sutherland was acting out of spite, vindictiveness and greed.
Mackenzie finished the story, folded the paper, set it aside and smiled. Despite the scared, concerned act she was able to portray, the truth was Mackenzie was not the least bit concerned. Mackenzie endured a lot worse from the media in Chicago. She was a little surprised that the Chicago media had not picked up the story, except in Chicago she was not known as Mackenzie Cartwright. There she had used the name Frances, and changed it back to Mackenzie, her real name, when she came home to St. Paul. Along with changing her appearance with glasses, makeup and hairstyles it would take an expert to connect the two women as being the same person.
Mackenzie refilled her coffee cup, returned to her seat at the breakfast bar and continued contemplating Paige Sutherland. Mackenzie’s instinct was to do something to shut her down. The question was: What should she do? Obviously putting Paige in the ground next to her husband was out of the question, however desirable. Even her kids would be better off without the malevolent witch.
Mackenzie finished her coffee, rinsed the cup in the kitchen sink and quietly said out loud to herself, “Oh well, don’t worry, something will come up.”
“Before we get started, you should know I have read your pleadings and briefs and I must tell you, Mr. Kane, I haven’t seen anything to persuade me to grant your motion,” Judge Gabriel Sendejo told Paige’s lawyer, Simon Kane. “I’ll let you present your case and I hope you have more than what I’ve seen so far. You may proceed.”
Marc and Mackenzie were seated at one of the tables in the well of courtroom 1427 in the downtown St Paul courthouse and City Hall. Marc had been involved in hundreds of court proceedings of various kinds over the years. When the presiding judge opens by telling one of the lawyers what Sendejo just told Kane, the deal was pretty much sealed before it started. Simon Kane, being a very experienced lawyer himself, knew it too.
Sitting in the gallery in the front row directly behind the table where Kane and Paige were seated was Heather Anderson, Max Coolidge and Anna Finney. Also in the gallery were at least a dozen media members. The rest of the seats were filled with curious citizens
and regular court watchers.
Simon Kane thanked the judge, stood and for the next fifteen minutes basically reiterated what was in the paperwork he had submitted. Marc listened carefully, looking for anything that might be new. He also watched the judge who appeared to be patiently following Kane’s argument. When Kane was about half-way through his monologue, Madeline Rivers made her entrance. She walked up the center aisle to a reserved seat in the front row and smiled at Mackenzie. While she was doing this, Judge Sendejo was obviously distracted.
“May I call a witness?” Kane asked when he finished.
“Certainly,” Sendejo indulgently said.
Kane called Paige Sutherland who was sworn and seated.
Paige, with Kane expertly moving her along, testified about every aspect of life with the Sutherlands. What a wonderful man the poor, deceased father-in-law was, how close he was to his adoring children and the certainty that Mackenzie had turned the old man against his family. All of this was totally irrelevant and Marc objected to it twice. Both times Sendejo gave him a bored look, agreed it was irrelevant then made the point that there was no jury involved so he would allow it.
Without actually using the words, what the judge was really saying was, “I don’t care, let her prattle on. It won’t affect my decision.” Both times, even though he was overruled, Marc had to suppress a smile.
When she finished, Kane turned Paige over to Marc for cross-examination.
“I have only one question, your Honor,” Marc said from his chair.
“Go ahead,” Sendejo told him.
“Mrs. Sutherland, isn’t it true that you have absolutely no evidence of any kind to present to this court that William Sutherland died from anything other than natural causes; by that, I mean a heart attack?”
Marc Kadella Legal Mysteries Vol 1-6 (Marc Kadella Series) Page 190
