Lilith McGuire and Detective Bronson Penance are in the main conference room at the Seventh Precinct police station. They are surrounded by boxes of paperwork, mounds of statements, photos, documentation, and brick, lots of thick, red brick on all four walls.
“The camera,” Lily begins, as she shuffles through a collection of photos. “Remind me, I know the motion to enter the camera into evidence was denied just before trial, but I don’t understand why.”
“Because we can’t prove that it recorded anything.”
“But Officer Palino said it was still warm, so it must’ve been doing something. If we find those recordings from the camera, we will know who did this.”
“You mean we’ll prove that Micah did this,” Detective Penance says, focusing his young protégé on the task at hand.
“Yeah,” she whispers.
“I think the key here is this Ghost guy. Wanna hear my theory?” Detective Penance asks.
“Sure.”
“I think Micah planned this. I think he hires this Ghost guy who sells Lennox drugs, then freaks out when the job’s not done when he gets home. The company, having planted the camera in the living room, accidentally records the murder, watches the videos, and disposes of the hard drive it recorded to.”
“Yeah, I get it. Thought about it, actually, then I checked a few key things. First, why would Micah hire someone to kill Lennox in their home with the same knife that he has in their home? Only to take the weapon from the scene? Plus, there’s no missing knife from their set of eight knives, and all the knives are clean.”
“To throw us off.”
“It’s working,” she says, putting down the photo of Josh. She rubs her eyes with both hands and lets out an audible sigh.
“And second?” he asks.
“What?” she replies.
“You said ‘first,’ then talked about the knives. I was just assuming there was a second. Something about the camera maybe?”
“Probably.” She continues to rub her eyes. “Yes, the camera is confusing to me. For the life of me, I don’t understand why it was there.”
“Hey, let’s break for the night,” Detective Penance says, recognizing her exhaustion. “I still think there’s something there, though. We gotta stay vigilant. All eyes are on us to finish this thing. We have to get this right.”
◆
“I thought you said, ‘It won’t go wrong.’”
Elaine Holcomb thrusts herself into Astrid Lerner’s office, slamming the door in the same motion.
“How did you get in here?” Astrid asks, looking through the glass at everyone else in the department, who are all sitting in their cubicles looking at her with blank expressions.
“They know me. You don’t.” Elaine sits down. “If you did, you’d know that I don’t do well with liars.”
“Elaine, I don’t have time for this.”
“Really? You said there was more than enough evidence to prove that this monster killed my son. I believed you. I trusted you. You are losing.”
For a brief moment Astrid thinks of matching Elaine’s shrill tone, but the word son allows her to calm down and see Elaine not as a bitchy ex-ADA out for a win, but as a desperate mother out for justice.
“We’ve had some setbacks,” Astrid says.
“Setbacks?” Elaine raises her voice.
“Tomorrow we bring the DNA evidence and the testimony from this girl, Jenna. Plus, we have the psychological exam results. It’s enough, Elaine.”
Elaine takes a deep breath.
Astrid sees the pain in her face and continues. “All of it will point to a willful motive, and we’ll elaborate on Micah’s propensity toward violence.”
“I want to take the stand.”
“No. Absolutely not.”
“The jury needs to hear from me.” She feels a lump in the back of her throat. She slows her pace, lowers her voice, and continues like she’s sharing a testimony at church. “I know things about Micah, things I couldn’t see clearly before, because he’s a genius at manipulation. He had to stay on my good side, so he could keep his life with my wonderful boy. But now I can see it all. He puts on this smiling, naïve, Southern bullshit face, but he was out for Lennox’s money, plain and simple. I mean, shit, the man would sit at home all day, working on God knows what in his barely six-figure freelance job, spending all of Lennox’s money on extravagant vacations and interior designers. He used my Lenny. And when Lennox betrayed him, Micah threatened to murder him. And he did, I know it. I know it as much as I knew my boy. The jury needs someone they can sympathize with. They didn’t know Lenny. They should hear from someone who did.”
“It’s not a good idea,” Astrid says. The thought of anyone finding Elaine sympathetic almost makes her laugh out loud. “The jury may see all this emotion as a desire for vengeance.”
“I can contain myself. You underestimate me.”
“I think the feeling is mutual.”
Elaine moves in closer to Astrid.
“Let me see your face,” Elaine says. “Did we move too fast? Do we really have enough?”
“I believe in the process,” Astrid says in a lowered voice, as if she’s forcing the words. She knows Elaine’s questions are actually threats. “I would not have agreed to proceed so quickly otherwise.”
“Good.” Elaine retreats. “Promise me one thing. If you feel like you have another day like today, or if anything threatens your resolve, you will offer him a plea for criminally negligent homicide. He can’t walk away from this.”
“I promise,” Astrid says.
✽✽✽
“Shawn, swear to me you won’t get too cocky.” In the visiting room at the Tombs, Micah is sitting across from his lawyer and friend, who is beaming from his victories of the day. He looks at Shawn intently, studying his face.
Shawn snorts a curt giggle as he beats a stack of papers on his lap, pounding them into alignment. “Is there such a thing?”
“This is my life, Shawn. I wanna go home.”
“You will. These people are recklessly pursuing a path that will only lead to acquittal, and they’re too blind to see it.”
“They seem pretty resolved.”
“And that, my friend, will be their downfall. The jury is on our side, I can sense it. Now, about tomorrow, Jenna will be on the stand. You okay with me going after her?”
“What do you mean, go after Jenna?”
“Micah, listen. They are coming after us again tomorrow, so I just want you to be prepared for what you may experience. It’ll be a rollercoaster.”
“Go easy on Jenna, would you? I’m serious. I love that girl. She’s the only friend I’ve got besides you.”
“Hey, hey, hey. I’ve been really proud of you so far. You’ve held it together like a pro.” Shawn scoots his chair closer to Micah. He places his hand on Micah’s. “I just need you to trust me. We’re good. I’ve got this.”
C h a p t e r 3 6
“The People call Jenna Ancelet,” Astrid says.
Jenna enters through the large thick wooden doors and begins to walk toward the witness stand. To offset her anxiety, she is dressed in her self-proclaimed “courtroom power-suit,” which means black Dior slacks and a white Gucci silk blouse, complemented by an orange-and-lilac-patterned Hermés scarf. Her brand-new Valentino stilettos click with a fearless purpose, and she walks in front of the jury to take the stand.
“Oh, Jesus,” Shawn says under his breath to Micah. Micah smiles.
She weaves her way through the waist-high wooden railings to her place on the witness stand, confident that she has bruised both of her hips, and places her hand on the Bible.
“And who do we have here?” Judge Wilson asks, impressed and not annoyed by the entrance. “State your name for the record, please.”
“Jenna Ancelet, that’s A-N-C-E-L-E-T,” says Jenna, remembering the previous night’s online coaching by the prosecution.
“Raise your right hand. Do you promise that the testimony you
shall give in the case before this court shall be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?” asks the clerk.
“I do.”
“Ms. Ancelet, thank you for appearing before us today,” Astrid Lerner addresses her latest witness. “Can you tell me the nature of your relationship with both Micah and Lennox?”
“Absolutely,” Jenna says, noticing her French accent is a little more prominent than normal. She decides to run with it. “I first met Lennox at Élan Publishing when I began working as his executive assistant about four years ago, around the same time as he was dating Micah. We all hit it off immediately.”
Astrid opens her mouth to ask a question of clarification, but Jenna continues before she can begin.
“I met Micah at an after-work cocktail reception. At first, I thought he was good-looking and single, of course. But soon I found out I was wrong. Turns out Micah also worked for Élan, so I got to see him all the time.” She realizes she has been babbling.
“Ms. Ancelet, can you tell me about the relationship between you and Mr. Josh Harrison?”
“Sure! We are best friends. Super close. For like ten or twelve years. Josh is a freelancer too. We all saw each other a lot.” She stops to rephrase, to make herself sound smarter. “We saw each other a great deal, a great deal.”
“Since you guys saw each other a great deal, did it surprise you when Josh and Lennox started having an affair?”
“Not really.”
“And why is that?”
“Well, Micah, and excuse me for saying so, Micah has always had a jealous streak. On several occasions, either at the office or out at a bar, Lenny always got a lot of attention. Micah would, too, but he was so wrapped up in Lennox that he never saw it. Micah would get jealous, sometimes give Lenny the ice shoulder, or sometimes just walk out of the bar and go home. Does that answer your question?”
“Sort of,” Astrid says. “Specifically, Ms. Ancelet, can you tell me about the affair between Josh Harrison and Lennox Holcomb?”
“The affair. Yeah. Uh, that kinda started right under my foot. I saw the attraction between Josh and Lennox, and I think I may have stoked it. I mean, I always loved Micah, don’t get me wrong, but Josh was my best friend, and I simply adored Lennox. It’s not something I’m proud of, and Micah and I have talked about it. I had no idea it would turn into a thing.”
“A thing?” Astrid hopes to focus her witness.
“Yes. It was definitely a thing. Micah found out about Josh and Lenny, I’m not sure how, but he also knew I was hiding it from him. We didn’t hang out for months.”
“Can you tell me about the confrontation between Josh and Micah? I understand you were there?”
“Yes, yes, I was. Micah and Josh were scheduled for the same meeting at Élan, a meeting that Lenny and I were to be at as well. It was a high-profile campaign that needed a lot of money, so that’s why Lennox and I were there. Outside the conference room, Micah approached Josh and started screaming obscenities.”
“Like what?”
“Homewrecker. Whore. Fuck this and fuck that. There was a look in his eyes I’d never seen from him before. From anyone really.”
“Did he ever threaten Josh?”
“Yes. After he was screaming for a while, he looked at Josh right in the eyes, got all up in his face and said something like, ‘If you ever get near him again, I will kill you both.’ Josh didn’t leave his apartment for weeks after that.”
“Thank you, Ms. Ancelet. I have no further questions.” Astrid Lerner nods in approval and walks back to her seat.
“Your witness, Mr. Connelly,” the judge says.
“Ms. Ancelet, may I call you Jenna?” asks Shawn, injecting a sense of professionalism between two friends.
“Yes, you may.” Jenna plays along.
“Jenna, you said you saw a look in Micah’s eyes that you’d never seen before from anyone, is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“What did Lennox look like when he fired you?”
“Objection! Assuming a fact not in evidence.”
“Your Honor, prosecution has the same access to all the company files as we do. I’m simply asking about a fact that has relevance to this witness.”
“Tread lightly, Mr. Connelly. Overruled.”
Jenna is visibly shaken. Ambushed by my friend, she thinks.
“Jenna, you were fired by Lennox on March 21, 2016, is that correct? Remember you’re under oath.”
“I know I’m under oath, Shawn.” She lowers her voice. “It’s just hardly anyone knows that, and my current job could be in jeopardy now, thanks to you.”
“Please answer the question.”
“Yes, I was fired. They sent me off with a glowing recommendation, as long as I signed an NDA, which I did. But I did nothing wrong.”
“Do you think lying to your current employer is wrong?”
“Objection.”
“Sustained.”
“Isn’t it true that after Lennox found out that you were thinking of leaving Élan, even suspected of stealing company secrets, that he screamed at you and called you names in front of several people in your department?”
“Objection. The witness is not on trial here.”
“Sustained. Mr. Connelly, you are on thin ice.”
“Withdrawn. We have nothing further but retain our right to recall this witness in the future.”
Jenna, not having the chance to defend herself, or right any misgivings about what was said, gets up out of her chair. Heavy-hearted and powerless, she looks at Micah and Shawn. Neither looks back. She leaves the room, her heels clonking and scraping against the rugged vinyl floors beneath her.
C h a p t e r 3 7
“Stab number one scraped the spinal cord, slightly severing it,” the witness begins.
A short, bald man with twenty-two years in criminal forensics, Dr. Eddy Frischell, dressed in a white lab coat, is on the stand offering expert testimony. He holds the remote control for the television monitor, clicking through a series of morbid photos of Lennox’s naked body. Dr. Frischell is a favorite of Astrid Lerner’s. With an attention to detail and an ability to address the jury in layman’s terms, he still manages to convey the science without overdramatizing.
“This wound is the deepest, approximately two inches, directly in the victim’s back. This MRI of the lumbar spine demonstrates a partial transection of the spinal cord at the L3/L4 spinal level, which we believe caused partial paralysis of the legs. Stab number two went directly into the abdomen and was thrust upward. However, this stab was not fatal, as it narrowly avoided both the stomach and the heart. Stabs three and four were to the victim’s side, hitting two ribs and puncturing the right lung. Again, not fatal. We believe these were inflicted with the left hand due to the angle.”
Micah fidgets in his seat, but he knows the afternoon will be like this. He is prepared but fears he will doubt his ability to hide his discomfort with each new witness.
“Stab wounds five through twenty-two are along the pectoral muscles and below, one scraping across the sternum downwards to the other lung but did not collapse it. Stab number twenty-three is through the side of the throat at a forty-degree angle, this time with the right hand. And, as you can see from this illustration, wounds twenty-four to thirty-three are in various places along the body, including wrists, arms and legs, some deep and some not. Wounds of note include these two along the Achilles tendon, which caused a muscular tear from here to here on the right leg, and one other wound from here to down here on the right foot, along the superior extensor retinaculum, partially severing the victim’s right foot. And this one on the right wrist, which has all the indications of being a defense wound.”
Micah watches in a fog-like state as Astrid and Shawn discuss the forensics with Dr. Frischell. He does not remember the doctor leaving the stand. He watches as the medical examiner takes his place. The scenes go by as if in a movie, with words reverberating like muted echoes in the backgroun
d of his consciousness.
“We have concluded that the victim was still alive when the defendant came home.”
“That this was a particularly savage crime, and the victim was lucky to still be alive at that point.”
“With thirty-three stab wounds of a hunting knife, he would have been dead within the hour, especially with the precision of the cuts being mere millimeters from vital organs. However, in my expert opinion, the murder weapon is a simple kitchen knife, or what some would call a steak knife, one from the same maker as the knife set we found in the defendant’s apartment.”
“In my expert opinion, yes, if Lennox were found earlier he most certainly would have survived. Paralyzed from the neck down, but alive.”
“The victim was mutilated and tortured in a crime of passion and left on the floor, clinging to life for over three hours.”
Micah finally comes to and realizes the past two hours have been a blur.
“What are you doing,” he whispers to Shawn. “You’re not saying anything.”
“What are you talking about? I’ve been objecting to a ton of things. But most are indisputable facts in evidence. Remember, you didn’t do any of this. Not relevant to our defense.”
“And would you state for the record your name and title again, please?” Astrid addresses her next witness.
“Sure, I’m Dr. David Lynna, Director of the Crime Analysis Division at NYAFS, the New York Academy of Forensic Sciences.”
“Dr. Lynna, how long have you been in your position?”
“I co-founded the crime analysis division about five-and-a-half years ago and have served as its director for the same amount of time.”
“Were you personally involved in the analysis of the crime scene in this case?”
“Yes, I was.”
“Now, from your analysis of the crime scene, what significant findings can you share with us today?” Astrid has been careful to not over-complicate things for the jury and does not want to start now.
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