Of course, none of this had any bearing on the real question before the jury. Did Howie Traynor, commit these murders? This was a point Harris, having learned his lesson with his exam of Dr. Butler, quickly made then passed on the witness.
While the crowd was filing out of the courtroom and Howie was being led back to jail, Marc turned around and saw a sight that made him smile. Sitting in the seat normally reserved for Father John was Maddy Rivers. The serious look on her face made his smile vanish.
Marc stepped up to the rail and she asked, “What time do you want me?”
“Right after lunch,” he replied.
“Okay,” she said then turned to leave.
“Madeline, wait!”
She turned back to him and she said, “Marc, I’m scared. I’m…”
“Listen,” he whispered. He looked around the courtroom and noticed Gabriella Shriqui watching them. Marc shook his head at Gabriella then held open the gate and gestured for Maddy to come through and sit down with him.
They sat down at the defense table and Maddy inhaled deeply and weakly smiled.
“What I did was stupid and I could get in a lot of trouble for it,” she softly said.
“Listen to me,” Marc said. “I only have a few questions for you. I want you to be very careful. Don’t anticipate what I’m going to ask. Listen carefully to the question, let me ask it completely and then think about your answer and answer only the question I ask, okay?”
“Okay,” she nodded.
“We don’t have time to prepare. I’ll ask you about the surveillance and you going into the building. Be careful what you say. You were in the building itself legally. Tell them why you went into the janitor’s closet and on the roof. But go slow and don’t get carried away. Don’t volunteer that you were in Howie’s apartment. Understand?”
“Yes,” she said. “I get it.”
“And to be honest, I don’t think Harris will have much for you. He’ll likely want you off of that stand as fast as possible. I’ll see you after lunch.”
“Ms. Rivers,” Marc began after Maddy was sworn in and took the stand “in the interest of full disclosure you and I are well acquainted are we not? You have worked for me as a private investigation on several cases I have handled, correct?”
“That’s right,” Maddy replied with a weak smile.
Since Madeline Rivers was a witness called by the defense she was technically a defense witness. Normally these questions could be objected to as leading. Asking leading questions of your own witness is normally not allowed. Because these were merely to inform the jury of their relationship and not to provide substance, the judge would let them in.
“In fact, we’re good friends, aren’t we?”
Maddy pulled the microphone a little closer and said, “I hope so, yes.”
Marc moved on and had Maddy tell the jury a bit about her background and what she did for a living. While she did this, Marc kept one eye on the jurors to gauge their reaction to her. Every one of them was totally captivated by her and could not look away, even the women. Marc could not help wonder if the men were hearing anything she said.
Because the two of them had been estranged during the trial, Marc did not have an opportunity to prepare her testimony. He hoped the little chat they had before lunch had repaired their friendship enough to allow him to get out of her what he needed.
Knowing he had Tony Carvelli on his list to testify, Marc would get a detailed report about Howie’s surveillance from him. All he wanted from Maddy was the part that she played in it.
Maddy told the jury what she did when she was part of the surveillance of Howie Traynor. Being as intelligent as she is, Maddy caught on immediately to where Marc was taking her. Using her own record of the surveillance she went over every date and time she was watching Howie. For each day of this, Maddy was sure to emphasize that Howie Traynor did nothing to arouse her suspicions at all.
“In fact, we were all getting bored with watching him. He wasn’t doing anything.”
Marc changed course and moved to her entry into Howie’s apartment building.
Maddy explained that an elderly woman opened the security door for her and allowed her to go inside.
“Did the Minneapolis police direct you to go into the building for any reason whatsoever?”
“No, they did not.”
“No one in the police department…”
“Objection,” Harris said. “Asked and answered.”
“Sustained,” Judge Koch quickly ruled.
“Once inside it was you who discovered the janitor’s closet and the stairs leading to the roof, wasn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Was the closet locked?”
“No, it was not.”
“Ms. Rivers, why did you go into the closet?”
Maddy turned her head to the jury and told them about the warnings she received from Tony Carvelli that Howie returned. She admitted she ducked into the janitor’s closet to avoid being seen by him.
With a little prodding from Marc, Maddy carefully, slowly described finding the stairs to the roof. She also told them that she went up on the roof and did a walk about on it.
“Did you give this information to Detective Owen Jefferson?”
“Yes, I did,” Maddy admitted.
“Ms. Rivers, did you go inside Howie Traynor’s apartment and plant the barbed wire, wire cutters and leather gloves the police found in his bedroom?”
At first, Maddy felt like Marc had just betrayed her. Here it was. She could admit to a felony or commit perjury. Maddy stared blankly at Marc for several seconds before realizing what exactly he had just asked her.
“No, I did not,” she honestly said.
“Are you sure…”
“Objection,” Harris stood again. “Asked and answered.”
“Sustained. Move along Mr. Kadella,” Koch said.
Trying to look dejected Marc paused for several seconds before saying, “I have nothing further, your Honor.”
Tommy Harris, because Maddy admitted she did nothing at the behest of the police decided to pass and asked no questions.
A greatly relieved Madeline Rivers, with every head in the room following her, made a calm yet hasty, exit. As she passed by Gabriella, unnoticed by everyone else, Maddy gave her a quick wink and Gabriella smiled.
FIFTY-NINE
While Maddy Rivers walked toward the exit, Judge Koch called the lawyers to the bench.
“Do you have another witness lined up for today?” she asked Marc.
“Well, your Honor, um, no, I don’t. I thought…” he replied.
“Let’s adjourn for today, then,” she said. “I have some personal business to attend to.”
“Your Honor,” Harris started to object.
“Forget it, Mr. Harris. I don’t need your permission,” Koch said cutting him off.
Howie leaned over and whispered in Marc’s ear, “Can I see you for a minute?”
Marc looked at him noticing a slight trace of annoyance in his client’s voice. “Sure,” he replied. He pointed to the door for the conference room and said to the deputies, “Give us a few minutes, guys. We need to talk.”
Before Marc had a chance to sit down, an obviously agitated Howie, pacing around in the small room, snarled, “Why the hell didn’t you go after her?” referring to Maddy.
“I got what I could out of her,” Marc said a bit defensively. “She wasn’t going to admit she planted those things in your apartment.”
Howie stopped his pacing and a little too quickly said, “I know she didn’t plant them…”
Startled, Marc cut him off by saying, “How? How do you know she didn’t?”
Howie’s back straightened, his eyes opened wide and he said, “Well, ah, you, ah, you must’ve told me…”
“No, I didn’t,” Marc said staring intently at Howie. “How would I know?”
The punch hit Marc dead center of his solar plexus. It happened so quickly it wasn’t even
a blur before it landed. In an instant all of his wind rushed out and Howie’s left hand clamped over his mouth. Marc would have collapsed if Howie had not grabbed his right arm and held him. As gently as he could, Marc’s eyes bulging, his mind uncomprehending what happened, Howie lowered his lawyer into a chair.
“Ssssh, ssssh, ssssh,” Howie whispered in his ear. “Just breathe, you’ll be okay. Just breathe. I’m gonna take my hand off your mouth. Breathe easy. Nod your head.”
Howie removed his hand and Marc tried to gulp down several inhalations of air. He now fully understood what Howie had done. Marc stared wide-eyed and unblinking at Howie while he fought to normalize his breathing.
Howie pulled another of the chairs in front of Marc and sat down on it facing him, their knees almost touching. He leaned forward, his face inches from his frightened lawyer’s nose and quietly said, “Well, I guess that lets the cat out of the bag. You got it figured out now?”
Marc, his breathing having normalized, almost silently croaked, “Yes.”
“That’s right counselor, I’m guilty. In fact, I’m guilty of all of it, including the old broad thirteen years ago,” Howie confessed looking at Marc with a sinister smile.
“This whole thing, this has been a huge act,” Marc muttered.
“Every bit of it,” Howie acknowledged. “Pretty goddamn good huh? Had you and that faggot priest fooled. God! Laying on that prison bed night after night, dreaming of getting out and going after those people,” he said still smiling his sinister smile. “And I knew sooner or later some hanky-wringing, bleeding heart liberal would kick me loose. This is Minnesota…”
Regaining some of his composure, Marc asked, “What about Judge Segal and Cara Meyers? They didn’t do anything to you?”
“I threw them in just to give the cops something to think about,” Howie said with a mild chuckle.
“Why not me?” Marc asked, “I was your lawyer back then.”
“Here’s your deal, lawyer. You win this trial and all is forgiven. You lose it and well,” Howie shrugged, “even in prison I can get at you. People owe me and they’ll pay a little visit to your kids, Eric and Jessica…”
“You sonofabitch,” Marc almost yelled and started to come out of his chair. Howie stiff armed him back just as a voice came through the door. “Everything okay in there?” They heard one of the deputies ask.
Howie nodded his head at Marc indicating that Marc was to respond. “Yeah,” Marc said, “we’re good.”
“I’ve been following your career,” Howie said removing his hand from Marc’s chest. “I have faith in you. But you should’ve gone after that P.I. bitch friend of yours. Although I must admit, she’s a tasty little piece. Maybe I’ll pay her a visit some day,” he smiled.
Howie stood up, looked down at a still terrified Marc, smiled his cold, scary smile and said, “You’d better figure something out. If I go back to prison because of you, you’ll watch your kids die before you do and maybe that little judge you’ve been banging, too.”
Howie reached for the door knob to leave and Marc worked up the courage to say, “Do you know how batshit crazy you are?”
Howie turned his head back to look at him and said, “Yeah, I do.”
Over an hour passed since Marc’s meeting with Howie Traynor and he still sat in his car. Marc was practically numb from Howie’s revelation. The only thing he was capable of was reviewing the trial in his head. And the conclusion he came to was that he was likely losing. Or at least there was a very good chance of it.
With all of the blood, gore and gruesome details that had been presented to the jury, they could easily want to nail someone for this. The remainder of Marc’s case was weak, to say the least. He obviously had to come up with something and pull a rabbit out of a hat,
Tony Carvelli was lined up to testify about his surveillance; Marc had counted on Carvelli and the police following Howie as a foolproof, absolute alibi. Not only had the prosecution found a way to negate this, but they were right. Howie did sneak past everyone exactly the way the cops and prosecution said he did. What they didn’t have was a means of transportation. They had no evidence to show how he got around getting to his victims. Was this enough for reasonable doubt? Maybe.
Marc also had his criminalist, Jason Biggs prepared to testify. He would link the evidence found on each victim to the death of Judge Smith in northern Minnesota. This could help with reasonable doubt since the cops admitted there was no way Howie could have done that. Enough for reasonable doubt? Again, maybe at best.
He would wrap up his case with more character witnesses. Two priests, two nuns and a co-worker from the church. All of this might be enough but without the alibi of the police surveillance he could not count on it. Those three cigarette butts found on the roof of the building next to Howie’s might be the final nail in his coffin. Why did this sick bastard leave them up there?
Driving back to the office he thought about his son and daughter. Obviously, he had to get them out of town for a while. His ex-wife and Marc got along now probably better than when they were married. Karen and her new husband Tom, would cooperate. They could all go to Karen’s parents who had moved to Texas. They would be all right there at least through the Holidays.
He weighed the consequences of the outcome of this trial. If he lost, Howie Traynor would be back where he belonged; doing life without parole in prison. Were his threats legitimate? Could he really get others to do his bidding? Maybe but probably unlikely.
If he won, Howie Traynor would be back loose on the streets. How could that be good? Maybe he would really go after Maddy and she would put a bullet between his eyes. Too risky he realized.
An idea had been germinating in his head. As he drove Marc came to the conclusion he had to try it. He had to pull out all of the stops and take a flyer to win the case. Protecting his son and daughter were the absolute priority. Losing this trial was no longer an option. He would worry about what to do about Howie Traynor on the loose later.
Marc hurried through the outer office, went straight into his private office and quickly closed the door. Unable to use Maddy during the investigation, preparation and trial, Marc worked with someone else he knew, a middle aged man who did mostly divorce work. Marc used him primarily as a process server to serve subpoenas and line up witnesses.
Without bothering to remove his overcoat, Marc dialed the man’s phone number.
“Al, it’s Marc Kadella,” Marc said when the man answered.
“I know, Marc. What’s up?”
“You know those subpoenas you have that you’ve been holding for me?”
“Sure,” Al replied.
“Okay, for the first one, fill in the date and time for tomorrow at 9:00 A.M. For the tech guy, same date and make his for 9:30 and can you make sure he gets there?”
“No problem,” Al said. “When do you want them served?”
“Tomorrow morning, early. Then call or text me when it’s done.”
“Will do.”
SIXTY
Having barely slept the night before, a stressed out Marc Kadella was on Third Avenue driving toward the government center. Around midnight his ex-wife called and told him they were on the road heading south to Texas. Persuading her had been a difficult conversation but she finally agreed for the sake of their son and daughter to spend the Holidays at her mother’s. It was one less thing for Marc to worry about.
Around 4:00 A.M. Marc gave up trying to sleep. Instead, he spent three hours preparing for today’s testimony, especially for his surprise witness. Shortly after 7:00 his process server called with the news that he had served one of the subpoenas. Marc was walking through the second-floor courtyard when he received the text that the second one, the more important one, had also been served.
Marc went into the courtroom through the back door. Seated at the table doing his best altar boy impersonation, was his client. Marc took one look at him and his knees went weak, his palms started to sweat and his stomach became queasy.
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“Good morning, Marc,” Howie greeted him as he took his seat. “Hope you slept well.”
For the benefit of the audience, Marc weakly smiled and nodded at Howie but did not say a word. Instead, he opened his briefcase and set up the table for today’s testimony. When Marc finished, a question he was curious about got the better of him and he quietly asked Howie.
“Why did you leave those cigarette butts on the roof next door to you?”
“I wondered if you were going to ask,” he smiled. “For the same reason I put the barbed wire, gloves and wire cutters under my mattress. I wanted to get arrested and fuck with the cops.”
“You may proceed, Mr. Kadella,” Judge Koch informed him.
Marc looked up at the wall clock in the courtroom which read 9:15. The witness he wanted, the one subpoenaed to be there at 9:00, had not yet arrived. Marc was prepared to go forward. Tony Carvelli was out in the hall, but he wanted the shock value and was disappointed he would not get it.
“Your Honor,” Marc said as he arose, “the defense calls…”
At that precise moment the exterior doors blew open and an obviously angry Craig Slocum burst in. He quickly stomped toward the gate in the bar.
“…Craig Slocum,” Marc finished.
“Objection!” Harris yelled jumping to his feet as a loud buzz went through the courtroom.
“He’s on our witness list, your Honor,” Marc said.
“I thought that was a joke,” Harris stammered.
As a sort of pain-in-the-ass type of move, witness lists are often loaded with names whose connection to the case is, at most, peripheral. This is done primarily to make your opponent interview witnesses you have no intention of calling. You are supposed to have a good faith basis for including someone on your list but this is usually very flexible.
“How is that my problem?” Marc asked.
Certain Justice Page 38
