“No, I couldn’t, but …”
“And now, lights on or off, try to imagine the panic you must feel that your wife is in danger. Wouldn’t you want to do whatever came to your mind to help her?”
“That’s an unfair analogy.”
“Exactly! Why? Because you, good sir, are trained in life-saving techniques. My client is not. He was in panic mode, both during his husband’s dying breath, and during his interview when you, detective, were questioning why he would resort to the only life-saving technique that popped into his mind.”
“Objection,” Astrid says loudly. “Is there a question here, or is the detective on trial for killing his wife?”
“Mr. Connelly, do you have a question?” asks the judge.
“My question is …” Shawn continues in a milder tone. “My question is, would it be possible that someone, someone without life-saving techniques at their immediate recall during a traumatic event, perhaps the traumatic event of their entire lifetime up to that moment, could act in an abnormal manner?”
Detective Penance does not look up, nor does he answer.
“That’s okay, we’ll let the jury decide. Lastly, on your timeline, you mentioned the phone calls from Micah to Lennox that evening, even read the transcripts.”
Shawn goes back to his desk and picks up the top paper from his folder.
“Can you read these other transcripts from that evening of August 17, 2017, from the two other people who called Lennox around the time he was murdered?”
“Sure,” Detective Penance takes the paper from Shawn.
“7:30pm, Talbot Lexington:
Hey dude, something came up, not going to be able to make it.”
“7:30? That’s shortly after Lennox was stabbed, is that correct?”
“Yes, but the cell phone records retrieved from Mr. Lexington pinged from up—”
“Yes will suffice.”
“Objection,” Astrid speaks out. “Argumentative. All of it. We see what Mr. Connelly is trying to do here. The cell phone ping is directly correlated to Mr. Connelly’s reasoning behind this line of questioning. Talbot was nowhere near the scene of the crime, and the jury should hear from the detective on this matter. We ask the court to allow him to continue.”
“Sustained,” rules the judge. “Detective, you may continue.”
“Thank you, your Honor,” Detective Penance responds. “We had Mr. Lexington’s cell phone records pulled, and the ping came from Midtown at the northern edge of Chelsea, so there’s no way he could have also been on the Chinatown edge of the Lower East Side.”
“Thank you, Detective. And could you please read the second transcript from James West, Lennox’s boss?” asks Shawn.
“8:30pm, James West:
Hey old boy, just saw your better half. Call me when you get this. It’s important.”
“Mr. West says ‘your better half,’ which is Micah, his husband, whom he’d just seen at the event, correct?”
“That is a fair assumption.”
“Do you have any idea what that was about? What’s so important on the night he was killed?”
Even though he and Astrid had discussed this scenario, Detective Penance reflects on an appropriate answer.
“We pursued that with Mr. James West.”
“Pursued?” asks Shawn. “What does that mean? How did you pursue it?”
“We interviewed James West roughly two weeks later, and he was cleared with a solid alibi.”
“Where did you interview him?”
“At his office, Élan headquarters.”
“So not at the police station?”
“No.”
“And during this interview, did you ask him specifically what he meant by the message he sent to his employee the night he was murdered? What he deemed as ‘important’?”
“No, we did not.”
“Thank you. Nothing further,” Shawn says, heading back to his chair next to Micah across the room.
“Ms. Lerner, your witness,” says the judge.
“Thank you, your Honor,” replies Astrid. “Detective Penance, your interviews, collection of evidence and alibi confirmations is enough to clear Mr. West of any wrongdoing in this case, is that correct?”
“Yes,” he says.
“Furthermore, could you tell me why you cleared Mr. West as having an alibi, and why you did not clear Micah Breuer?” Astrid asks.
“Micah was the one we found over his dead husband’s body, was the last one to see him alive, and was the one who confessed to the murder,” Detective Penance replies.
“We have nothing further for this witness,” Astrid says.
“Who’s next?” asks the judge.
“The People would like to call Josh Harrison to the stand,” Astrid says.
Josh, with his perfectly coiffed blonde wavy hair, in blue jeans and a tweed blazer over a crisp white button-down, brushes arms with Detective Penance, who is on his way out of the courtroom. Josh walks in front of Astrid’s table, smiles at her and then the jury, and sits in the witness stand.
As he is sworn in, Shawn, still reeling from the one-two punch he’d just experienced, looks at his watch. He’s surprised that Judge Wilson is still going strong so late in the day. Shawn was expecting Josh to be tomorrow, and wants to ask the judge if it’s possible to postpone this witness, yet he’s concerned how that might look to the jury. Instead, he turns to Micah and begins writing on a small pad between them.
Thought Josh was tomorrow. Mostly prepared. Don’t worry.
Micah looks at him and closes his eyes in a long blink. He grabs the pen and writes.
We got this.
Shawn smiles and sits back in his chair.
“Mr. Harrison, did you have an altercation with the defendant in the summer of 2015?” Astrid Lerner starts.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Please tell us what happened.”
“Yes, ma’am. For one thing, the guy is nuts.” Josh tries to make as much eye contact with the jury as possible. “Like if there was a scale like this, he’d be like this.”
Josh maneuvers his hands to represent some sort of invisible machine with a flittering needle that moves so much it blows up.
Shawn notices the improper character evidence and wants to object. He doesn’t. This should be fun.
“Who is ‘the guy’ you are referring to, for the jury please?”
“That man right there.” He points to his left, directly at Micah.
“Let the record reflect the witness is pointing to the defendant,” says the judge.
“What makes you say he’s nuts?” Astrid asks. She, too, notices the leeway, and takes advantage.
“He threatened to kill me.”
“How so?”
“He said if I ever came near Lennox again, he was gonna kill us both. He meant it. With, like, these psycho eyes I’ve never seen before. Complete douchebag.”
“Do you really think he wanted to kill you both?”
“Oh yes, ma’am.” Josh nods so hard he hears his neck pop.
“Why do you say that?”
“Because then he told us how he was gonna do it. He said he was gonna stab us both in our sleep.”
Light but audible gasps are heard from both the jury and the courtroom. Shawn and Micah act unshaken.
Noticing the violent reaction from his captive audience, Josh repeats himself using different words with a more dramatic emphasis.
“He threatened to take my life,” Josh says. “I had this, this feeling, you know, that he was serious and would follow through with it, especially when he said, ‘I’ll kill you both in your sleep. Or maybe just one of you,’ he said. ‘So the other will know what it feels like to lose everything you love,’ or something like that. Still sends shivers down my spine.”
“And what was the date of this altercation again?” Astrid asks.
“July, I think, of 2015,” Josh replies.
Astrid pulls out a piece of paper and hands it to the jury f
oreman.
“What I’ve just handed to you is a copy of the life insurance policy dated July of 2015,” Astrid says, then turns back to Josh. “Mr. Harrison, when the defendant said, ‘I’ll stab you both in your sleep,’ what makes you think that he was serious and might follow through?”
“It seemed real. Different from the way he normally speaks, which has always seemed fake to me. How can I explain this?” He takes a moment. “Okay, Lennox told me Micah was an actor.”
“Objection, hearsay,” Shawn interjects. He’s just messing with the prosecution.
“Your Honor, we have proof that the defendant was, in fact, an actor, if you’ll allow the witness to proceed.” Astrid is annoyed.
“Objection overruled,” says Judge Wilson.
“You were saying, Mr. Harrison?”
“Lennox told me Micah was an actor. I saw that, many times, in our interactions. Micah would just seem like he was saying stuff. You know, like he was rehearsing lines or something.”
“I don’t follow,” Astrid prompts.
“I don’t either,” Shawn whispers to Micah out of the side of his mouth.
“I remember this one day,” Josh begins, “a few friends of mine were at the beach on Fire Island, pretty recently actually, and I was sitting fairly close to Micah. Didn’t even realize it. Buncha hot guys watching other hot guys playing volleyball. Just didn’t see him. Anyway, I guess he caught me checking Lenny out. So, Micah looks over at me and says pretty loudly, so all my friends could hear, ‘I know you can’t just turn it off, and I know it probably still hurts, but I appreciate the effort.’ Now I know that doesn’t sound weird, but it rang familiar to me, so I went home that night and looked at my DVR and there it was.”
“There was what?”
“Gossip Girl.”
The courtroom erupts in laughter. The judge pounds his gavel to quiet the crowd.
“I know, I know,” Josh continues, enjoying the attention. “Judge me all you like, but I like reruns of Gossip Girl. And this particular episode just happens to have been on the night before we were at the beach. So, I pushed play and sure enough, it didn’t take me long to find it. Serena and Dan, they’re these on-again-off-again ex-lovers on Gossip Girl. Anyway, Serena and Dan were at a bar. She is with someone new, and says to Dan, her ex-boyfriend, ‘I know you can’t just turn it off, and I know it probably still hurts, but I appreciate the effort.’ Same words. The same exact ones!”
“Thank you, Mr. Harrison. The prosecution would like to play a series of recordings now to shed light on this testimony.”
“I’ll allow it,” says the judge.
“What’s happening?” Micah asks Shawn.
“I allowed these,” Shawn says. “It’s a show, grab your popcorn.” Shawn leans back and smiles.
“Now this first recording is from an off-Broadway play in which the defendant played a supporting role,” Astrid says, introducing the audio. She presses play on her iPad.
((“I’m not sure what happened. (pause). Blood. There’s so much blood! (pause) I think she’s dead!”))
“And, as a reminder, this is the 9-1-1 call from the night of his husband’s murder.”
((“Yes! I got home, and he was just lying there. (pause). Blood. (pause) Oh my God, I think he’s dead!”))
Astrid turns off the recording. She holds up an 8x10 glossy of the defendant, with the words MICAH BREUER emblazoned in Helvetica Bold. She turns around and shows it to the courtroom, then the jury, and hands it to the jury foreman.
“We have nothing further for this witness,” she says to the judge.
Shawn stays seated, pauses. Then, he begins clapping.
The judge bangs his gavel. “Mr. Connelly, there will be no clapping in my courtroom.”
“No, sir.” Shawn swats the air as if there’s a fly around him. He stands up, continuing to clap the imaginary bug away from him, and walks toward Josh. “Quite the performance, Mr. Harrison. You’re a fellow actor, are you not?”
Josh laughs. “You, too, Mr. Connelly, with the swatting. And the answer is ‘No sir,’ not for like a decade now.”
Mimicking Astrid, Shawn unearths an 8x10 of Josh and presents it to the courtroom, then the jury, then hands it to the jury foreman. “Mr. Harrison, would it surprise you to know that Micah has not acted professionally in over eight years?”
“No, sir, not really.”
“Is it true that you have a lot of actor friends, Mr. Harrison?”
“Some,” Josh replies.
“By telling us about this alleged threat, what did you hope to gain?” Shawn asks, seeming to jump to another line of inquiry.
Perplexed at the question, Josh looks at Shawn and tilts his head. “I’m sorry?”
“What did you hope to gain by telling us that? Simple question.”
Josh looks at the prosecution. Astrid gives him the equivalent of a shrug, using only her face.
“Uh, to show your client’s state of mind to commit murder,” he says, discouraged by his own grammar.
“Move to strike the answer as unresponsive,” Shawn says to the judge with a soft, sing-song lilt to his voice, along with a dissenting nod. He never takes his eyes off of Josh.
“Granted. The witness will refrain from characterizing.”
“I wanted to show I took a threat of murder very seriously,” Josh says slowly, “and became fearful for my life because of it.”
“Ah, yes, fearful for your life.” Shawn walks back to the defense table and grabs another folder. He pulls out a photo and hands it to Josh. “Can you describe what you’re looking at, Mr. Harrison?”
“Looks like a picture of Lennox, Micah, and me at the beach.”
“Are any of you laughing?”
“I don’t know. Smiling, sure. Laughing, maybe.”
Astrid begins to fumble through her folders, looking for the photo he is showing.
“And in your opinion, is there a fourth person taking the picture?”
“No, sir, it looks like we’re taking a selfie.”
“And who might that be taking the selfie? In other words, whose arm is holding the camera?”
“I am.”
“And who are you right next to?”
“Micah.”
“So, you, Micah, his husband Lennox are arm-in-arm, smiling or laughing, taking a selfie at the beach?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Lastly, there is a date right above it, can you read what it says, please?”
“Objection,” Astrid gives up trying to find the photo. “This photo was not in discovery.”
“Your Honor,” Shawn interrupts before the ruling can be administered. “Is counsel seriously trying to say she did not have access to the Facebook feed of her own witness?”
“Overruled. You may answer,” says the judge.
“July 4, 2018.”
“July 4, 2018,” echoes Shawn. “That’s only six weeks before the murder took place. Can you tell me, Mr. Harrison, do you think someone who’s fearful for his life would be laughing and taking a selfie with a friend whom he seriously thinks is going to murder him?”
“But Micah isn’t my friend.”
“Not your friend?”
“Correct.”
“Are you familiar with what a ninth step is, Mr. Harrison?”
“Yes, sir.”
Shawn begins to read an excerpt from a blue book. “According to the literature of most twelve-step programs, step 8 reads ‘Made a list of all persons we had harmed and became willing to make amends to them all,’ and step 9 reads, ‘Made direct amends to such people, except when to do so would injure them or others.’ So the ninth step is when you make amends to people you think you have harmed. Something someone does in recovery, is it not?”
“I’m not in recovery, but yes, sir, I think that’s what it is.”
“Have you ever had anyone make amends to you, sir?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And would one of those people be Micah Breuer?”
/> “Yes.”
“Do you remember that exchange?”
“Yes.”
“Can you tell me about it, please?”
Josh squirms in his chair. He knows where this line of questioning is going and had forgotten about the conversation he’d had with Micah six months ago.
“Well, at first, he told me that the way he’d handled mine and Lenny’s affair was wrong.” Josh’s recall is now in Technicolor. “Then he asked if there was anything he could do to make it up to me.”
“Was he emotional at all?”
“Yes, he was crying.”
“Did you feel like he was acting? Remember you’re under oath.”
He takes a moment. “It felt real at the time.”
“And after Micah asked if there was anything he could do to make it up to you, what did you say to him?”
Josh looks in Micah’s direction.
“I said, ‘You can be my friend.’”
“Isn’t it true that since the time of the amends, you’ve become friends with Micah, even shared intimate stories of a similar upbringing, acting mishaps, trips to Fire Island, and so on?”
“Yes, but I still didn’t trust him.”
“We have nothing further for this ex-boyfriend of the deceased,” Shawn says, returning to his chair.
“And why didn’t you trust him?” Astrid stands and asks Josh.
“Because he threatened to kill us!”
“How?”
“By stabbing us.”
“Because he threatened to kill you and Lennox by stabbing you,” Astrid reiterates to the jury, emphasizing the words kill and stabbing. “Thank you, Mr. Harrison.”
Josh leaves the witness box and begins to walk down the center aisle to exit the courtroom.
C h a p t e r 3 5
Lilith McGuire stares at the photo of Josh, a picture from his Facebook feed that she’s printed out. The paper is still warm from the laser printer.
“I can’t believe we missed this picture of the three of them,” she says.
“Well, that’s what happens when you’re trying to glean information from two high-profile murder cases going on at the same time,” Detective Penance answers. “Not to mention the pressure of combing through piles of data from a clearly corrupt company at the heart of both of these murders, and a former ADA bearing down on us with her fat little thumbs.”
Naive Page 15
