Murdered at the Courthouse

by Dianne Harman

  “At the moment, I can’t think of anything. I’ll call you when the results of the handwriting analysis are known. I also have my friend looking into where the nude photographs of Rebecca were taken that are posted on the various different porn sites. Let’s see what happens with that information. Once we have some solid facts, we’ll be in a better position to decide what to do.”

  “All right. I’ll wait to hear from you,” Nancy said as an unbidden tear slid down her cheek. She was still standing in the open doorway when Kat drove off.

  Ten minutes later Kat pulled into the business complex parking lot where Dave’s office was located. She was greeted by an attractive young woman who looked like a college student. Jobs were at a premium in the small college town and practically every receptionist’s position was filled by a co-ed looking for extra money before she had to take out another college loan and sink deeper in debt.

  “Good morning. I’m Kat Denham, and I’m here to see Dave.”

  “Yes,” the young woman said. “He mentioned you’d be coming here this morning. His office is the third door on the left down this hall. Dave told me he wanted to talk to you when you got here.”

  Kat knocked on the door and entered when a male voice said, “Come in.”

  “Hi, Dave. How’s the father of the YouTube sensation?” Kat asked.

  He motioned for her to sit across the desk from where he was sitting and said, “I had no idea anyone could watch themselves on TV as many times as my five-year-old has and still want to see it again. I think we may be raising a future movie star and quite frankly, that scares the heck out of me.”

  “Don’t blame you.” Kat said as she handed him the envelopes, along with the handwritten shopping list Nancy had given her. “Here are the envelopes I told you about as well as another writing sample I’d like to have analyzed, and here’s why.” She related her recent conversation with Nancy and how she was so certain that her daughter was the one who had murdered Judge Dickerson.

  “Poor woman. Sounds like she’s pretty sure her daughter did it.”

  “She is, even though at the moment there’s not a thing that would stand up in court. I really feel for her.”

  “So do I. Have to tell you that I’m wondering if her daughter started out wanting to be a ballet star, and things went sideways. I don’t want that to happen to my daughter, and actually I kind of regret the whole YouTube thing. I think I might take her out of ballet lessons after this.”

  “Dave, take it from a mother who has a daughter who took ballet for years. Not all little girls grow up to become porn stars. I’m sure your daughter will be fine.”

  “Sorry, Kat. Guess I’m venting my frustrations. Anyway, I talked to my friend this morning, you know, the guy who owns a porn studio, and your Rebecca sounds like a real princess. She does photo shoots at his studio, and he said everyone knows her. She’s got a reputation for extracting jewelry and money from men who see her on the porn sites and then contact her.”

  “I wonder how she does that, because her mother had someone hack into her email account, and she thought Rebecca was finished with it, although Rebecca did mention to me that she had a couple of different email addresses.”

  “From what my friend said, she maintains several, and he’s aware of them because they’re always posted on the bottom of the photograph she’s posing for. Several months ago she instructed him to take one off. That’s probably the one her mother gave the person to hack.”

  “What else did your friend say about her? How often does she pose for nude photos at his studio?”

  “He says she’s there several times a week. She always pays him in cash. He says she often wears expensive jewelry when she’s sitting for her camera shots. She’s told him they’re gifts from some of her fans that she’s met. Here’s the interesting thing. He told me he’d commented yesterday on the fact that she didn’t look as worried as she had recently, and he’d asked her if something had changed in her life. She told him she’d taken care of someone who was causing her trouble, and she felt really good that she didn’t have to worry about him anymore. Kat, I’ve told you I don’t make judgements in this business, but given the facts in this case, that sounded a little ominous to me.”

  “I agree, Dave. As I mentioned, her mother is very worried Rebecca will murder someone else. She said she knows it was Rebecca, because she feels it in her bones. I know that’s a huge leap considering the fact that most of what we have about her being the killer is pretty much sheer conjecture. Did your friend mention when her next photo shoot is scheduled?”

  “Yes. She’ll be at his studio at 1:00 p.m. today. She told him she deliberately takes college classes that don’t interfere with her ‘work’ schedule, as she calls it, and she has the studio booked three days a week from 1:00 to 2:00 in the afternoon. Why?”

  “Her mother told me she’d like to talk to Rebecca and see if she could sense that something was wrong with her. Nancy told me Rebecca hadn’t returned her calls for several days, which was unusual. She said they usually talked several times a week, but lately the calls had been fewer and farther apart.”

  “Are you thinking of going to the studio? If you are, I’ll alert my friend, although I don’t believe he allows anyone in the studio itself when he’s photographing a client.”

  Kat thought for a second. “I’ll wait until I hear from you about the handwriting analysis. If there is a match, it might be a good idea to see what Rebecca has to say about it.”

  “I’ll get right on it. My guy should be here momentarily. I know he had a meeting with the police department early today. He’s the one they use, so you know he’s good. As soon as he has anything, I’ll give you a call, and Kat, do me a favor.”

  “Of course, Dave. What is it?”

  “Nick’s my boss. I don’t want anything happening to his sister-in-law. Be careful.”

  “I promise, and Dave, thanks for your concern.”

  CHAPTER 27

  Kat drove home, let the dogs out, and started a load of wash. She’d promised herself she’d spend some quality time writing today. Even though her mind was full of the different pieces of the investigation into the murder of Judge Dickerson, she knew from past experience that the best way to write a book was simply to sit down and write something. No matter how bad, good, or incidental to the story it was, the important thing was to get something written. Hopefully, after a little time, the creative part of the brain would come forth and there would be something there that wouldn’t need to be scrapped.

  Keeping her promise, she sat down at her computer and had typed only three paragraphs when her phone rang. Kat looked at the monitor and saw Dave’s name.

  Well, so much for the creative juices flowing this morning. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be.

  “Hi, Dave. That was pretty fast. What did your guy say about the handwriting analysis?”

  “Hannah’s instincts were spot on. The handwriting on the earlier envelope and the more recent envelope were not written by the same person, and the list that Nancy Malone gave you that was written by Rebecca matched perfectly with the writing on the more recent envelope. My guy says it would stand up in court. He’s that sure. Where does that leave you?”

  “I think Nancy and I need to go to your friend’s studio and confront Rebecca. In a perfect world, she’d confess to the murder, but I doubt that will happen. If nothing else, maybe I can learn something that will help.”

  “Do me a favor. I remember a couple of years ago when Nick told Blaine about his friend that raised dogs, and Blaine bought one for you. Would you take him with you? I know Nick would tell you to do that if he was here. I’ll call my friend and tell him to expect you.”

  “Okay. I’ll call you later and let you know what happened.”

  Kat called Nancy and told her what Dave had said about the handwriting, and his friend who owned the studio. Kat told her she was going to the studio and confront Rebecca with the findings of the handwriting analysis. She said she h
oped to learn something that would help.

  “Kat, give me the address, and I’ll meet you there. The one important piece of leverage I’ve had over Rebecca for years is her inheritance. I can tell her that I’ve decided not to disinherit her, but that I’d like her to see a professional and get some help with some of the problems she’s having. Since there’s no hard evidence that she’s the murderer, I’d think there’s a good chance she won’t be charged with murder. If I get help for her, that might stop her from doing anything else.”

  Kat was quiet for several moments. She understood exactly what Nancy was hoping for – that she could make Rebecca into the type of daughter she’d always wanted. Kat knew if it was her own daughter, Lacie, she’d want someone to give her a chance to get help.

  Reluctantly she said, “Nancy, I’ll pick you up about 1:15. Rebecca would know your car if she saw it, but she won’t recognize mine. I’ll have Rudy with me. And Nancy, this isn’t the movies or television with a guaranteed happy ever after. Don’t be disappointed if things don’t work out quite the way you want them to.”

  A few minutes later her phone rang again. It was Dave. “I talked to my friend who owns the porn studio. His name is Scott Jessup, and he’s expecting you. He says there’s a reception room where you can wait while he’s photographing Rebecca. He told me she always changes clothes and puts on a robe in the dressing room that’s next to the reception room. He said she’ll have to walk back through it to get to the dressing area, so you can talk to her there when she’s finished the photo shoot.”

  “Thanks, Dave. Rebecca’s mother, Nancy, is also going to be with me. I’m picking her up at 1:15. We’ll be there a little after 1:30. You said Rebecca’s photo shoots typically last for 45 minutes to an hour, so that should work out. Anything else?”

  “Yes. I was able to find out more about Jules Rosen. I think I told you that he didn’t go to his Rageaholics Anonymous meeting the night the judge was murdered, instead he went to a children’s cartoon movie.”

  “A children’s cartoon movie? Seriously?”

  “Yes. My source said he found out Jules is a real fan of cartoons. He buys comic books, and goes to every cartoon movie that comes out. He even has a post office box where his comic books are sent. He mentioned that Jules doesn’t want anyone to know about his cartoon obsession, because he’s afraid it would destroy his bad boy image. I guess his wife doesn’t even know.”

  “Wow! No matter how long I live, I still discover that people have sides to them I’d never expect. I won’t even ask how you found that out. Talk to you later.”

  At 1:00 she put Rudy’s leash on him and opened the back door of her car. His tail wagged expectantly at the upcoming ride, and true to form, Jazz laid down in her kennel and looked woefully at Kat, who felt a pang of guilt.

  “Jazz, I swear I’ll make it up to you when I come back. I won’t be gone too long.”

  She picked up Nancy who was very quiet on the ride to the studio. Kat understood the inner struggle she must be going through and felt sorry for her. She hoped something positive would come out of the meeting. She told Nancy what Dave had said about how they should wait for Rebecca in the reception room of the studio.

  Kat pulled into the parking lot of an industrial building and drove to the far end where Dave had said the studio was located. She checked her watch. It was 1:30.

  “Are you ready, Nancy?” she asked.

  Nancy nodded. “Yes, I just want this to be over with. I don’t think any mother should have to go through what I’ve been going through the last two days. I feel like I’m living in a nightmare.”

  “I don’t blame you,” Kat said. “Hopefully you’ll feel a lot better soon.”

  They opened their car doors, and Kat let Rudy out the back door. The three of them walked up the sidewalk to the front door. Kat looked at Nancy out of the corner of her eye and felt she was looking at a completely different person from the woman she’d met yesterday at Starbucks. She’d brushed her hair since Kat had seen her earlier and her face was clean, but her head was down, her shoulders were stooped, and she appeared to have aged nearly twenty years. Kat’s heart felt for her.

  Kat opened the door to the stark, nearly empty room. The two of them sat down on some chairs at a table in the middle of the room. The only other item of furniture in the room was an old battered desk that had obviously seen better days. No one else was in the room. There was a sign on what Kat assumed was the studio door that read ‘Photo Shoot in Progress. Do Not Enter’ under a flashing red warning light.

  Nancy lethargically picked up a Sports Illustrated magazine and began leafing through it. Kat checked her phone for messages, while Rudy sat alertly beside her. Each minute seemed like an hour. Finally, the studio door opened, and a man in his late thirties walked out. He winked at Kat, and a moment later he was followed by Rebecca, who was wearing a loosely belted black silk robe and was heavily made up. It was apparent that she wore nothing under the robe.

  “Mom, what are you doing here? And Mrs. Denham?” she asked in a confused voice. “How did you know I’d be here?” She turned and glared at the man who had preceded her out the door. “Scott, did you call my mom and tell her about this?”

  “No, I’m as surprised as you are. I thought you told me your mother didn’t know anything about this.”

  “Well, obviously she does,” Rebecca said as she turned and faced Nancy, who had a sick look on her face. “I don’t know what you want, but I need to change clothes. I’ll be back in a minute, and then you can tell me what this is all about.” She stormed off to what Kat assumed was the dressing room.

  A few minutes later she returned, and it was obvious the sorority girl was back. She wore jeans, a loose blouse, and had removed her heavy make-up. There was little resemblance to the young woman who had walked out of the studio only minutes earlier. Kat idly petted Rudy while Scott stood against the nearby wall with his arms crossed.

  “Okay, Mom, might as well tell me what this is all about. Since you’re here, you know this is where I film my art.”

  “Your what? Your art? Rebecca, what’s happened to you?” Nancy choked back a sob. “This is not the young woman I had such high hopes for. The young woman that every teacher from the first grade on said was destined for great things because of that brain of yours.”

  Rebecca glared at Nancy. “You got that right, Mom. This is my art, and this is what I’m going to do from now on. People love what I do. I’m somebody. Just me, not my brain,” she said angrily pacing back and forth as she raised her voice to her mother. Kat felt Rudy stiffen. He’d been trained to be alert when voices were raised.

  “Rebecca, I don’t care what you’ve done.” Nancy’s tone was pleading. “We’ll get some help for you. I promise not to disinherit you. In fact, I’ll even give you some of the money now. Just because your handwriting matches the envelope and the letter you sent to Judge Dickerson doesn’t mean anything. No one would charge you for murder on evidence that flimsy,” Nancy said, reaching out her hand to touch Rebecca.

  Rebecca recoiled. “Mom, I don’t need you. I’m making so much money you can give your money to some charity, like that stupid group you founded, Mothers Against Pornography Addiction. Oh, I forgot, you’re the only one in that group, aren’t you?” she said in a sneering voice as she turned away from Nancy. “Tell you what, you want to see the art I can create? Well, check this out,” she said as she reached into her tote bag to get her “art.”

  What she pulled out was not a photograph of her “art,” but a small, nasty looking little pistol which she proceeded to point at Nancy with a menacing look in her eye.

  Nancy took a step back and blurted out, “That’s the pistol I keep in my nightstand next to my bed, isn’t it? It’s the little Ruger 9LCs I bought for protection a few years ago. You stole it from my bedroom, didn’t you?”

  “That’s right, Mother Dearest,” Rebecca said as she continued to point the gun at Nancy. “You can keep your money. In fact, the
three of you can think whatever you want, because after I take care of you, I’m going to Hollywood. There’s a man out there who told me I can work for him anytime I want, and that’s what I’m going to do.”

  Kat held her breath, hoping Rebecca didn’t do anything stupid. One false move and they were all dead.

  Nancy stretched out her arm to her daughter. “Rebecca, put the gun down. I promise you’ll be much happier when you get some help. Please, honey, don’t do this.”

  “I’ll be much happier than what? I’m happy now, Mother Dearest. I’m happy when I’m posing for my art and performing. I’m particularly happy that I got rid of that smarmy judge who always wanted to meet me in person. He was such an old disgusting piece of you-know-what that it was sickening. I used to think it would really be a big deal if he told everyone about me, particularly that I was still doing porn. I killed him because he was a nuisance, so you can go ahead and disinherit me like you’ve always threatened, but I make so much money doing this and a few other things, that I don’t need your money.”

  “I know you shot him, but how were you able to do it in a public courthouse?” Nancy asked.

  “That was easy. When I was at the courthouse that afternoon to pay my dumb traffic ticket, I was walking down the hallway when I heard a loud argument coming from the judge’s chambers. A bunch of other people heard it too, and we all stopped to listen. It was a very violent argument with loud voices, and it was obvious the judge was swearing at and threatening some attorneys who were in his chambers. From the argument, I gathered it was the district attorney, you know, the one you did the phone bank for.”

  Rebecca’s harsh laugh echoed throughout the room. “Since I’d already decided that someday I wanted to kill the judge, I figured if I did it right away, then the district attorney who was in the argument with the judge would probably become the prime suspect. Earlier, when I was paying my traffic fine, I saw a sign in the traffic court that said ‘Night Traffic Court Available: 6:00 to 8:00 p.m.,’ so I knew the courthouse would be open in the early evening. I took your gun, which I’d taken out of your bedroom a few days earlier, went to the courthouse, and lo and behold, the door to the Judge Dickerson’s courtroom was unlocked.