By Reason of Insanity (David Brunelle Legal Thriller Series Book 3)

by Stephen Penner

  “Thank you, doctor,” Edwards concluded. “No further questions.”

  Perry nodded, exaggerating his frown of thoughtfulness. He looked to Brunelle. “Any cross examination?”

  “Yes, Your Honor.” Brunelle stood up and buttoned his suit coat. “Thank you.”

  He walked up to the witness stand. “Good to see you again, doctor,” he started. It wasn’t really, but he wanted the judge to know he’d done his homework.

  Adrianos nodded. “You too, counselor.” Brunelle knew he was lying too. Good. They understood each other.

  “Now, you’ve just testified that Ms. Sawyer’s belief that she was justified in killing her mother is the cause of her incompetency to stand trial, correct?”

  Adrianos shifted in his seat. “That’s a bit oversimplified and not very artfully stated, but basically correct.”

  Brunelle smirked at the description of his question. He decided to ignore that part of it. Instead he continued on toward the point of his cross exam. “And you’re familiar with the definition of legal insanity, correct?”

  “Yes,” Adrianos returned Brunelle’s smile. He obviously knew where Brunelle was going. They both did. They’d already had the conversation, only Perry hadn’t been there, so they had to do it again. “A person is legally insane if he or she doesn’t appreciate the wrongfulness of their conduct.”

  “Correct,” Brunelle confirmed. “So shouldn’t that question be put to the jury at the end of the trial, as we’ve done for over a century, rather than short-circuiting the process at the beginning by declaring the person incompetent to stand trial, thereby precluding any prosecution at all?”

  Adrianos nodded patiently, like a parent with a slow child. His challenging grin melted into a serious expression. “That’s a very fair question, Mr. Brunelle.” He looked up at Judge Perry, who—to Brunelle’s disappointment—was still staring at Edwards’ witness with far too much interest. Adrianos did have a way about him. A definite charm. “Psychology is a dynamic, ever-changing field. We learn more every day about the human mind. The M’Naghten standard is well over one hundred years old. When it was adopted, slavery was legal and women couldn’t vote. We’ve moved away from those deplorable social standards and we must be willing to move away from equally outdated psychological standards.”

  Brunelle frowned. He was losing control of the examination. “But you agree that the M’Naghten rule is the standard. You’re just advocating that this judge ignore it and establish a new standard. The Adrianos Standard.”

  Adrianos turned back to Brunelle and smiled broadly. He clearly liked the idea of a new legal standard being named after him.

  “Let me answer your question this way,” the psychologist said. “There is a long held prejudice that people can be classified into two categories, mental ill and not mentally ill. Us and them. Right and wrong. But in truth, everyone has psychological issues they deal with. Whether it’s resentment for growing up with a workaholic father or auditory and visual hallucinations from severe schizophrenia. Mental illness is a continuum, not distinct categories of sane and insane.

  “I dare say,” he went on, “that everyone in this room has diagnosable emotional and personality pathologies.” He pointed at Brunelle. “Take you, for example. You came to my hospital and pretended to not understand something you clearly understand very well. You were trying to deceive me to get a particular result you wanted. That is highly manipulative, and you probably don’t even realize you’re doing it. Now, here you are, seeking justice and playing hero, reveling in the recognition and affirmation while caring little to nothing about the underlying crime itself. A classic case of Narcissistic Personality Disorder.”

  Brunelle was taken aback by the instant diagnosis thrown at him.

  Adrianos grinned at him. “You probably have a ‘Prosecutor of the Year’ plaque on your office wall, don’t you?”

  Brunelle had to smile back. “I have two.”

  Adrianos surrendered a small laugh, then pointed at Edwards. “And then we have Ms. Edwards. A ‘true believer,’ I think you called her. Not in it for the money clearly if she’s a public defender, and dedicated enough to have distinguished herself and earned the right to represent murder defendants. But she doesn’t get the cocktail party affirmation you do, Mr. Brunelle. You get to bathe in the admiration and thank-yous you receive for your profession, but Ms. Edwards has to weather the subtle scorn and derision she encounters for representing criminals. ‘How can you do that?’ is probably the most common question she gets after telling someone what she does. But the real question is why does she do it? The answer is that she’s trying to save everyone in the world, one murderer at a time. Maybe she suffered some childhood trauma where she watched a friend drown in a pool, or couldn’t pull her mother out of a debilitating depression brought about by an abusive, alcoholic father. Maybe, her subconscious tells her with every case, maybe if she gets Keesha acquitted, maybe this time mom will come out of her darkened bedroom today.”

  Edwards jaw dropped at the description. Brunelle didn’t want to know if any of that was even close to true. Adrianos didn’t give him the chance to ask. He turned and looked up at Perry.

  “Even the judge clearly has problems. Obviously, anyone who wants to be a judge has huge control issues. Even as you sit and doze atop your ridiculously elevated bench, you are in charge. You can sit back and do nothing, yet everything that happens in your courtroom does so because you allow it. Indeed, the word ‘court’ comes from the tradition that the king, the sovereign of all he surveyed, resolved all the differences in his kingdom, his subjects coming to his court to plead their cases. Judges have had this absolute power delegated to them, and we all have to stand up when you walk in and call you ‘Your Honor.’”

  Adrianos turned back to Brunelle. “So, yes. I would say it’s time to abandon the prejudices of the past, and with them the legal standards that branded someone ‘insane’ when, in reality, that term has no meaning in modern psychology. We are all mentally ill to one degree or another. We need to focus on healing the most affected rather than punishing them.”

  Brunelle nodded, not because he agreed, but because he was satisfied he didn’t need to ask any more questions. Adrianos had called Perry a control freak. He had no idea. Perry was about to prove it.

  “No further questions.”

  Perry didn’t even ask Edwards if she had any re-direct examination.

  “You may step down,” he told Adrianos. Then he looked to Edwards. Brunelle knew it was good that he was looking at her. Perry always delivered his ruling directly to the losing lawyer. “I find the defendant competent.” That was it. No explanation, just the ruling. “The matter will proceed to trial.”

  Edwards started to protest, but Perry cut her off, now directing his comments to both lawyers. “In addition,” he declared, “this matter will be assigned to my courtroom for trial. We will hold a status conference in one week for the parties to update me on their readiness for trial. Be prepared to list all witnesses and endorse whatever defenses you may choose. Dr. Adrianos may think insanity is outdated and that this humble trial court should trump the legislature and the appellate courts, but I disagree. If you plan to pursue an insanity defense, be prepared to announce it at the status conference.” Then he stood and banged his gavel. “Court is adjourned.”

  The judge marched down the steps of his ridiculously elevated bench and stormed back into his chambers.

  Brunelle stepped over to Edwards. “That went well.”

  “Oh, shut up, Dave,” Edwards replied. She was in no mood for his jokes. Brunelle wondered what bothered her the most: having lost the hearing, having just drawn Perry as the trial judge, or Adrianos’ drive-by diagnosis of her.

  Brunelle decided to heed Edwards’ advice and returned to gathering up his own things from his counsel table. For his part, he was pleased to have gotten Perry as his trial judge. He was the last of a dying breed: hard-ass, pro-prosecution judges. Brunelle could expec
t to win most of his motions and objections now.

  As he was picking up his things, Adrianos walked past his table. “I don’t believe the judge was impressed by my testimony,” he remarked.

  “On the contrary,” Brunelle replied, “your testimony made quite the impression. You totally pissed him off.”

  Adrianos narrowed his eyes and looked up now at the empty judge’s bench. “Did you manipulate me into that as well?”

  Brunelle shook his head. “I’m not that good, doctor. I just ask questions and people answer. Generally, people say what they want to say. I just give them the chance to do it.”

  Chapter 18

  Brunelle watched Adrianos leave, then scanned the gallery for Robyn. But she’d already left too. He was more disappointed than he knew he should be. Edwards was still at work, sitting at her table trying to explain the judge’s ruling to her client. From what he could hear, it was more like Edwards was trying to explain why the ruling was bad for them. But Keesha seemed happy. She wanted to go to trial. The jury would understand. She couldn’t let the kids be turned into zombies.

  Brunelle shook his head as he left the courtroom. Maybe Edwards would pursue that insanity defense after all. When he got upstairs to his office, the first person he told about winning the hearing was Nicole.

  “Good for you, David,” she beamed. “I knew you had it in you.”

  Brunelle paused at the turn of phrase. Before he could think of something not inappropriate to reply, Nicole inclined her head toward Duncan’s office. “You better tell the boss. Mr. Fargas has been blowing up his phone all morning.”

  Brunelle frowned at the mention of the civil attorney’s name. He’d been riding a high from his victory, but the thought of that walrus with a bar card brought him crashing down. “Right,” he forced himself to say. “Will do.”

  He passed his own office and went straight to Duncan’s. Duncan was on the phone, so Brunelle knocked on the doorframe and gave a thumbs-up when Duncan looked his way.

  “Actually, Charles,” Duncan said into the phone, “he just stepped into my office. I’ll get the details and call you right back. Yes. Right. I will. Okay. Bye.”

  He hung up the phone and sighed. “That guy is really something.”

  “Yeah, something,” Brunelle agreed enigmatically. “Anyway, we won the competency hearing.”

  “Fargas will be glad to hear that.”

  “And we got Perry for the trial,” Brunelle was pleased to inform his boss.

  Duncan’s expression moved from simple relief to actual pleasure. “Really? That’s a great draw.”

  Brunelle laughed. “Yeah, the defense psychologist pissed him off so much he decided to keep the case for trial too.”

  Duncan smiled. “What did the guy say that pissed him off so much?”

  “He told Perry he was a control freak.”

  “He is a control freak,” Duncan laughed.

  “He also called him out for falling asleep on the bench.”

  “Ouch,” Duncan said. “No wonder he kept the case. He can manage it to make sure the defendant gets convicted.”

  “That’s kind of what I’m hoping for,” Brunelle admitted. “Although…”

  “Although what?” Duncan narrowed suspicious eyes.

  “Perry set a status conference next week and all but ordered Jessica to endorse an insanity defense,” Brunelle explained. “If she does that, it’ll be hard to beat.”

  “No, no,” Duncan waved the idea away. “You can’t let that happen. We do not want an NGRI.”

  “Why not?” Brunelle asked with a shrug. “Seems like that might be the most just result.”

  “We’ve been through this, Dave. Your job is to get a conviction.”

  “We’ve been through this, Matt,” Brunelle agreed. “My job is justice.”

  “I know that,” Duncan bristled. “But until and unless they endorse insanity, the only just result is guilty.”

  Brunelle nodded. “I suppose that’s true. And don’t worry too much. Jessica’s as stubborn as Perry. Now that he’s told her to endorse it, there’s no way she will.”

  “Good,” Duncan replied. Then he looked at his phone. “I suppose I better call Fargas.”

  Brunelle shrugged. “Guess so. At least you have good news for him. May I be excused for that call?”

  Duncan nodded. “Sure. He doesn’t like you anyway.”

  Brunelle laughed as he stood up. “Good.”

  *

  A short time later, Brunelle was at his desk, dialing Chen’s number to tell him about winning the hearing.

  “Chen.”

  “Larry, it’s Brunelle. We won the competency hearing.”

  “Hey, good job,” Chen said. “I knew you weren’t that bad an attorney.”

  “Very funny, Detective,” Brunelle replied. “I’ll have you know—”

  Beep-beep! Brunelle’s phone went off. He had a new text.

  “Hold on,” he said, pulling out his phone. “Aw geez. Kat just texted me.”

  “Why ‘aw geez’? I thought she was your girlfriend.”

  “Ugh,” Brunelle said. “I’m still not totally comfortable with that word.”

  “How’s ‘ladyfriend’?” Chen suggested.

  Brunelle laughed. “Even worse.”

  “So why the ‘aw geez’?” Chen persisted.

  Brunelle hesitated. “I dunno. It’s just, we have plans tonight. Nothing big. Just dinner. She just texted me to say she’ll be late.”

  “Oh,” Chen said. “So you’re disappointed you won’t see her sooner?”

  “No, I’m disappointed I’m going out at all. I was going to work late. I need to draft up the written order for Perry to sign, to reduce his oral ruling to writing.”

  “That’ll wait a day, won’t it?” Chen asked.

  Brunelle shrugged even though Chen wasn’t there to see. “I guess so. I just wasn’t thinking about her is all.”

  “Well, maybe you should,” Chen advised. “She’s worth thinking about.”

  Brunelle shrugged again. “Yeah. You’re right. Of course you’re right. Just hard to switch gears so fast sometimes.”

  “Well, you’re old,” Chen teased.

  “That doesn’t help.”

  “I wasn’t trying to help.”

  “Goodbye, Larry.”

  “Goodbye, old man. Say hi to your ladyfriend for me.”

  Brunelle gladly hung up his desk phone and stared at his cell.

  bodies stacking up. literally. will be done by 5:30. want me to stop by your office to get u?

  He typed his reply: sure. sounds good. see u then.

  He hit send, then leaned back in his chair. He smiled, but not about Kat. He’d won the hearing.

  He looked up at the framed certificates on his wall.

  Prosecutor of the Fucking Year.

  Chapter 19

  Shortly before five o’clock, Brunelle’s desk phone rang. His caller ID showed it was the front desk receptionist.

  “There’s a young woman here to see you,” the receptionist told him.

  Brunelle smiled. Kat must have finished her autopsies early. She wasn’t young exactly, but she was younger than him. The receptionist was giving him a good-natured tease about his new ladyfriend.

  But when he reached the lobby, he was surprised—and pleased—to see that there really was a young woman there to see him. Robyn Dunn. Looking as heart-racing as ever.

  “Robyn,” Brunelle managed to say through the pounding in his chest. “This is a surprise.”

  “I know,” she said, fixing her blue eyes on his. “And I know it’s five o’clock. Do you have just a minute?”

  “Of course,” Brunelle answered. “Come on back to my office. I’m working late tonight anyway.”

  “Of course you are,” Robyn said as she slid past him into the back hallways. It made more sense for Brunelle to lead the way to his office, rather than having to give her directions—‘turn left,’ ‘last office on the right�
��—but they both knew this was a better way for Brunelle to stare at her very nice ass. She usually wore pantsuits, Brunelle had noticed. Seeing how they hugged her curves, he understood why. They reached his office too soon.

  Robyn dropped her tall frame into one of Brunelle’s visitor chairs. Brunelle sat at his desk. “So what brings you by?” he asked.

  Not that I’m complaining, he thought.

  She shrugged. “I guess I just wanted to apologize for Peter. He can be kind of an ass sometimes.”

  Brunelle grinned. “Yeah, he didn’t make any friends today, did he? But that’s not your fault. No need for you to apologize.”

  Robyn frowned slightly. “Yeah, well, I feel kind of responsible. It was my idea to bring him on board. And he and I, well, we have history.”

  Brunelle nodded. He didn’t want to hear about their history.

  “Well, no worries,” he said. “Like you said, he made of an ass of himself, and I won the hearing. All in all, a good day for me.”

  She smiled, that dimple peeking out again. “Actually, I kind of enjoyed watching you make a fool of him. That’s why I ran out of court so fast. To see if he was still fuming. I loved it.”

  She shook her head. “I always took him on head-on, but you just let him talk—God, he likes to talk—and he hanged himself. It was masterful.”

  Brunelle demurred. “Well, I’ve been told I can be pretty manipulative.”

  Robyn lowered her eyelids. “Manipulate just means grabbing things you want and making them move the way you want them to.” She locked her eyes on Brunelle’s. “No crime in that.”

  Brunelle didn’t say anything for a moment. Not because he couldn’t think of anything to say, but because he knew not to say what he was thinking. He glanced at the clock and realized the time.

  Shit.

  Kat was never as late as she said she’d be. He didn’t want to get caught in his office after hours with a cute young lawyer. He wasn’t doing anything, but he was imagining things. And if he could imagine them, so could Kat.

  “Well, thanks for stopping by, Robyn,” he said suddenly. He stood up, just to make sure she understood the point. “I’m glad you enjoyed the show today.”