Fox is Framed

by Lachlan Smith

  The door between the witness room and the courtroom opened. The deputy looked in and nodded to Teddy. It was time.

  I went through the other door to the public hallway and came in the back of the courtroom, taking my seat just as Nina started Teddy’s examination. It was his first appearance in front of a jury in over five years. The contrast between his newly shrunken demeanor and his former outsize presence couldn’t have been starker.

  Teddy had once owned this place. Now his brow shone with perspiration. He’d decided that he needed his cane to cross the distance between the witness room and the witness stand. Once seated, he kept dropping it and picking it back up. The point of his testimony was to draw the jury’s attention to the old pictures of my mother and her lover and recap his investigation, including the documents exposing Gary Coles’s misconduct. Though Teddy had viewed these documents many times during the past few weeks, he had difficulty recognizing them now.

  Nina had to lead him, drawing objection after objection from Crowder for using suggestive questioning to elicit the answers we’d rehearsed. With prompting, he managed to describe how, after he’d uncovered evidence pointing to Keith Locke as the killer, he’d been shot in the head while eating lunch at a restaurant near city hall. Nina then introduced the certified copy of Keith Locke’s court file showing that he’d pled guilty to this crime.

  On cross-examination, Crowder handled Teddy like someone afflicted with a mental infirmity. And Teddy’s anger made him into the imbecile that Crowder wanted the jurors to see. Coming at him like a defense attorney, she easily established that his case against Keith Locke was founded on speculation. Then, to my surprise, she moved in on the shooting itself. I’d have thought it was beyond dispute that Keith Locke had pulled the trigger, but she made Teddy admit that he had no memory of the event, that no witness in the restaurant had been able to identify his would-be killer, and that Keith Locke had never confessed.

  Locke had several other charges pending against him at the time of his guilty plea, and Teddy had no choice but to concede that defendants sometimes pleaded guilty to crimes they didn’t commit.

  After Crowder sat down, I was startled to see Nina rise again. “Have you ever been in a courtroom with Ms. Crowder before?”

  “I tried about a dozen jury cases against her. Won more than half of them. In about half the others, the jury hung.”

  “Do you have any opinion about whether or not Ms. Crowder resented your numerous victories?”

  “Sure. She’s enjoying this a little too much. It shouldn’t be about me and her, our history.”

  “How do you know she resented your beating her in court time and again?”

  Crowder objected to Nina’s leading the witness, and she rephrased the question, but Teddy had his cue. “She filed a bar complaint against me after the last one. Completely baseless. I don’t want to say that it’s a ban—” He broke off, then tried again. “Van—”

  “Vendetta?”

  “That’s the word.” His face cracked as he tried to smile away his weakness in this place where he’d once showed only strength.

  “No further questions.”

  Crowder had thrown herself back in her chair, considering Teddy with a deprecating smile. She wisely chose not to rise to the bait Nina had thrown down, probably reasoning that any further attempt to cross swords with Teddy wasn’t worth the effort.

  “The witness is excused,” Judge Liu said, nodding toward my brother. Next Nina put Car up to plug the holes left by Teddy’s testimony. Car was his usual professional self, testifying crisply and competently, filling in with greater detail his efforts to secure the unsullied version of the forensics report from the medical examiner’s office. Crowder didn’t even bother to cross-examine him.

  “Any further witnesses for the defense?” Judge Liu asked when Car had been excused.

  “The defense recalls Detective Neil Shanahan.”

  Chapter 20

  Nina came out swinging. “Detective, what was Russell Bell’s cause of death?”

  Shanahan blinked in surprise, then glanced toward the DA’s table. Crowder made as if to rise, then sat back as if realizing that she’d been outfoxed. However, her look of bemusement suggested she didn’t see how Nina might take advantage of what ought to have been an extremely damaging fact.

  “Obviously, the state has no objection to letting the detective answer that question,” Crowder said. “It was the defense that wanted to keep the jury from learning the truth about Bell’s death. We’ve been ready to share the real story with the jury from day one.”

  “Ms. Crowder, please remember the rule against speaking objections in my courtroom. That goes for nonobjections as well.”

  Dot leaned close to me and in a throaty whisper asked, “What the hell’s she doing?”

  Her hand was trembling, I saw. “You need to be ready to testify. The alibi,” I whispered back, and she nodded, a scared look on her face. Whatever Nina was thinking, she hadn’t shared her plans with me. I could only guess that she’d made a last-second judgment call that my father’s errors on the stand this morning allowing the jury to learn of Russell’s death meant we could no longer afford to ignore the issue. If we didn’t address it, the jurors would no doubt form their own conclusions as to why Bell was dead and why they weren’t allowed to know the cause. Even if the jurors hadn’t already learned from the news reports saturating the city that my father was suspected of having Bell murdered to keep him from testifying, then the implications of this morning’s testimony might easily lead them to draw that inference. Jurors always read the tea leaves and try to guess what the lawyers and judge are concealing from them, I knew, and nothing was more dangerous than the guesses they might make in a situation like this. No, it would be folly for the defense to carry on as if this accusation weren’t part of the case. This meant, of course, that we were now defending him from two murders rather than one. Although Nina’s demeanor betrayed no hint of her distress, all her carefully laid trial plans were coming unwoven. It was a desperate move at what could only be termed a desperate moment.

  Nina thanked the judge for his admonition, then asked Shanahan if he wanted her to have the court reporter read back the question, but he had his answer ready. “The cause of death was homicide by multiple bullets fired from a nine-millimeter semiautomatic pistol while Mr. Bell sat in a car on a dead-end street near Mission Bay. The gun has not been recovered.”

  “Are you the primary detective working Russell Bell’s murder?”

  He said he was.

  “Did you ask for the case or was it assigned to you?”

  “I’d been working with Mr. Bell as a potential witness in this matter. It seemed natural to me that his murder might be connected with his plans to testify here, so I specifically requested the assignment.”

  “You haven’t charged my client in Bell’s murder, but even so, from the minute you learned of Russell Bell’s death, you believed that my client was responsible, and you’ve never seriously considered any other suspect, correct?”

  “I approach every case with an open mind.”

  “Your entire investigation into Russell Bell’s murder has been premised on the assumption that my client was behind it, though, right? Wasn’t that your reason for asking to be assigned the investigation?”

  “I was the best investigator to determine whether there was a link or not, based on my having worked closely with the victim to prepare for the testimony we expected him to give in this trial. Testimony he never got a chance to give.”

  “And you’ve never seriously considered any other suspect. Isn’t that true?”

  “You give me a suspect, I’ll consider him. So far, none has come to light.”

  “Well, let’s see if we can help you with that, Detective. Does my client have an alibi?”

  “Of course he does.”

  “Where was he a
t the time of Russell Bell’s murder?”

  “Supposedly he was with his fiancée, the woman he met while he was in prison, riding motorcycles down Highway One. Just the two of them, if you believe her. No other witnesses.”

  “You know for a fact that my client couldn’t have been the person who pulled the trigger and murdered Russell Bell, correct?”

  “Even assuming she’s telling the truth, you can be guilty of murder without holding the gun. You see, he got someone to do his dirty work for him. Whether it was a hire job or an associate who owed him a favor, at this point I don’t know. But I have my suspicions.”

  “What evidence do you have to support your belief that my client hired someone to murder Russell Bell?”

  “It’s an ongoing investigation.”

  “In fact, you have no clue who pulled the trigger or what connection he might have had to Lawrence Maxwell, correct?”

  “At this point, that’s correct,” Shanahan conceded. “Like I said, this investigation is still active, and we expect further evidence to develop in the coming weeks.”

  Nina walked him through the details of the shooting, introducing the police reports, the photographs, and the other evidence, getting him to elaborate on his theory that Bell was waiting to meet someone he knew. She was coolly confident, but I was sweating, and I didn’t dare look at the jurors. I kept my eyes fixed on my father’s back. He sat motionless, staring down at the table. Here was the evidence we’d fought so hard to exclude, the evidence that was supposed to have been so damning, and now Nina was just giving it to them, since Lawrence had forced her hand.

  “You met Bell, you worked with him to prepare for his testimony in this case—and as you’ve said, you must have learned a great deal about him. We went through this before, but remind me. How had he been occupied since his release from prison?”

  “I can’t say. All I know is that at the time of his murder he was working as a driver for City Supervisor Eric Gainer.”

  “How do you explain a man just released from prison getting such a job?”

  “I would expect that he applied and he was hired, the way anyone gets any job.”

  “Was being a convicted felon part of the job description?”

  “Well, his conviction had been overturned, so technically . . .” Shanahan shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “Eric Gainer testified in Russell Bell’s trial as a key witness. Isn’t that true?”

  “So I’m told.”

  “And he’s since recanted his testimony and refused to testify in any retrial of Mr. Bell for the abduction and rape of Lucy Rivera, correct?”

  “That’s my understanding, yes.”

  “Who told you that Eric Gainer was one of the witnesses in Russell Bell’s trial for raping Ms. Rivera? Was it Bell?”

  “No, it wasn’t.”

  “He didn’t reveal that information to you?”

  “He had no reason to. It had nothing to do with his testimony.”

  “Eric Gainer must have told you that when you interviewed him, then. After Bell’s murder, I mean.”

  “I haven’t interviewed Eric Gainer.”

  She looked surprised. “Isn’t it standard procedure to interview the employer of a murdered man?”

  “If I believed the employer might have relevant information, yes.”

  “Did you determine that Eric Gainer had no relevant information to help you identify who murdered Russell Bell?”

  Shanahan looked uncomfortable. “No, I didn’t.”

  “Did you make any attempt to interview him in connection with Russell Bell’s murder?”

  “I left several messages, but we were playing phone tag.”

  “At some point, were you instructed not to contact Eric Gainer directly?”

  Shanahan sucked his cheeks at Nina’s guess. “Supervisor Gainer’s lawyer told me that contact should go through him.”

  “So Eric Gainer refused to talk to you without his lawyer present, is that correct?”

  Crowder stood. “Objection, Fifth Amendment.”

  “Eric Gainer’s not on trial here,” Judge Liu told Crowder with impatience, letting everyone in the courtroom see and hear it. “Overruled.”

  “That’s correct,” Shanahan had to answer.

  Nina was pushing hard against Eric’s warning, which she knew nothing about, but I didn’t see any help for it. Our first concern had to be defending my father against these charges. If the state charged him in Russell Bell’s death, we would just have to cope with whatever testimony Eric decided to throw at us.

  “And am I correct that you didn’t take advantage of the opportunity to question him under those circumstances?”

  “It would have been futile. His lawyer told me that Gainer wouldn’t be speaking to the police on any subject having to do with Mr. Bell’s death.”

  “So Eric Gainer refused to cooperate in your investigation into Russell Bell’s death. Is that fair to say?”

  “That would be a fair description, yes.”

  “And he refused to cooperate on the basis of his Fifth Amendment privilege against self-incrimination. Isn’t that correct?”

  “I don’t know what motivated the man.”

  “Isn’t that what the district attorney was referring to with her objection a moment ago? Eric Gainer’s right to remain silent and not incriminate himself?”

  “I don’t know what she was referring to.”

  “Well, he has that right, doesn’t he?”

  “He does,” Shanahan admitted.

  “And he asserted that right and chose to remain silent rather than answer questions from you about Russell Bell’s death. Isn’t that true?”

  “I don’t know what was in the man’s head.”

  “Well, you saw the photograph in yesterday’s paper, didn’t you, Detective?”

  Shanahan waited for Crowder’s objection, which came promptly. “This is clearly an improper attempt to influence the jury,” she said. “Counsel knows perfectly well that it would be misconduct for jurors to read newspaper accounts relating to this trial, and she’s trying to get them to do just that. Lawyers have been sanctioned for less.”

  “That is absolutely correct,” Judge Liu said. “I don’t presume that defense counsel had any such purpose in mind, but it would certainly be sanctionable conduct if she did. Approach.”

  Crowder and Nina approached the judge’s bench. Nina wanted to ask Shanahan about the picture, I knew, but Liu wasn’t having any of it. She made her arguments, first in a whisper, her voice growing more and more heated as Liu shook his head, shook his head again, then drew back and turned away from her in the middle of a sentence. She’d lost the argument, and it was the first time I’d seen her come close to losing her composure during the trial.

  It was playacting. What Nina wanted, I guessed, was for the jurors to go home and look at that picture, even though the judge had told them in no uncertain terms that they must not do so. This was wholly improper, but she was arguably within her rights in bringing up the picture during this line of questioning, trying to use it to suggest that Gainer had much to hide. In any case, she must have guessed that a few of the jurors had seen the picture already. And even if they hadn’t, and even if they didn’t go home and look at it tonight, their imaginations would fill in the gap.

  The lawyers returned to their places, and Liu admonished the jury to avoid all media accounts relating to the trial. In this, again, he was playing into Nina’s ulterior motive, indirectly suggesting to the jurors that the picture of Eric Gainer in yesterday’s paper had something to do with my father’s case, giving the impression of another secret for the jurors to ferret out.

  “You’re certain that my client murdered Russell Bell, but you haven’t made any attempt to determine whether anyone else might have had a motive to want Bell dead, have you?”
>
  “I don’t know of any motive anyone else might have had.” Shanahan turned to address the jury directly, trying to reestablish a rapport and to cut Nina out of the conversation. “Most likely, the defendant put one of his old prison buddies up to murdering Russell Bell, either hired the job with cash or used intimidation to get what he wanted. I understand that the accused was under the protection of a man named Bo Wilder during the latter years of his imprisonment. Mr. Wilder is known to have an extensive criminal empire, and would have the resources to make a hit like this happen on the outside at the drop of a hat. We’re in the process of investigating, and we’ll soon know how he did it. At that point, he’ll be charged in Bell’s death.”

  Nina asked Liu to strike the answer, was unsuccessful, and was forced to rein Shanahan in with a dogged series of questions establishing that he knew of no money changing hands, no contact between Lawrence and Bo Wilder, no evidence that Wilder was involved, and no connection of any sort between Lawrence and the unknown shooter. He also knew of no leverage Lawrence might have held over such an individual, and he’d made no effort to determine whether the shooter, whoever he was, might independently have wished Bell dead.

  This done, Nina renewed her attack. “Well, if Eric Gainer didn’t remind you about his role as a witness against Russell Bell, who did?”

  “The assistant district attorney,” Shanahan said, nodding at Crowder.

  “Did you at any point learn from the assistant district attorney or anyone else that Eric Gainer had become aware of Russell Bell having forced sexual contact with his former victim?”

  Crowder objected. After a moment’s thought, Liu let the question stand.

  “No,” he answered crisply.

  “Tell me, Detective. What was the purpose of your discussing Eric Gainer’s role in Russell Bell’s prosecution with the district attorney?”