Corpus Delicti (David Brunelle Legal Thriller Book 6)

by Stephen Penner

  And the big one: “Did you have a suspect?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Who was the suspect?”

  Chen turned again to the jurors. “The defendant, Kenneth Brown.”

  Brunelle smiled inside. That may actually have been better than relating exactly what Linda said. Now the jury knew Linda told Chen that Brown killed Amy. And they knew Edwards didn’t want them to hear that.

  That was the main thing. But there was a bit more.

  “I’d like to go back,” Brunelle said, “to that other murder you mentioned. The man who was found stabbed to death on East Marginal Way. How did you say that investigation began?”

  “We got a 911 call about a dead body on the sidewalk,” Chen answered. “Patrol was dispatched and, sure enough, there was a dead guy on the street. So they called for a homicide detective and I went out to the scene.”

  “And do most of your cases start that way?” Brunelle asked. “By someone finding a body?”

  Chen nodded. “Most of them. Sometimes the victim is still alive and dies at the hospital, but yeah, we get a lot of them where the victim is already dead on the scene.”

  “Do cases ever start without a body being found?”

  Chen thought for a moment—mostly theatrics for the jury. He knew the question was coming. But no reason not to look like his answer was well considered. “Sometimes. It’s rare, but it does happen.”

  “How do those usually start?” Brunelle asked.

  “Usually by a family member reporting the person missing,” Chen told the jurors.

  “So it starts as a missing persons case?” Brunelle suggested.

  But Chen shook his head. “Not necessarily. It depends. If the person went missing and there’s blood all over the ex-boyfriend’s truck, well, then, it probably starts as a homicide. If it’s just, ‘We haven’t seen Jane since last Tuesday,’ then maybe it starts as a missing person case. It just depends on the facts.”

  “What about this case?” Brunelle asked. “What about Amy Corrigan’s case?”

  “No, that began as a homicide case,” Chen assured.

  “Based on what Linda Prescott told you?” Brunelle inquired.

  “Yes,” was the answer. “Absolutely.”

  Just one more area of inquiry for the detective, then Brunelle could end his examination. Detectives often testified more than once in a murder trial, and Brunelle already suspected he’d have to bring Chen back for a different issue if things went the way he feared later in his case. The goal for this session was to explain how the investigation started and emphasize that the experienced homicide detective took one look at it and knew right away it was a murder, not just somebody running away. And that he took steps to confirm it.

  “Did you make any efforts to locate Amy Corrigan?” Brunelle asked him.

  “Of course,” Chen replied. He gave his explanation to the jurors. “It’s pretty much impossible to disappear any more. Back in the old days, you could just move to a new city, adopt a new name, and start your life over. Now, that’s pretty much impossible. We can track people wherever they go, by credit card usage, rental applications, whatever. Every time anybody does anything, there’s an electronic record of it. And all of those records can be sorted through and compiled by individual. I checked every local, state, and federal database for any sign of Amy Corrigan. I ran her social security number, driver’s license number, and fingerprints through everything at my disposal. There has been absolutely no sign of Amy Corrigan since she disappeared.”

  Brunelle was almost done. One more question, and since he knew Chen, he knew the answer.

  “When was the last time you checked?”

  “This morning,” Chen answered, “just before I came to the courthouse.”

  Brunelle nodded, satisfied with his examination of the detective. “No further questions.”

  As Brunelle sat down, Edwards stood up and approached the witness stand. She had her binder again and set it on the bar, open to some page about a third of the way through the several hundred pages contained within.

  “You’ve never found a body, correct?”

  Chen nodded. “That is correct.”

  “So you can’t say with absolute certainty that Amy Corrigan is dead, can you?”

  Chen shrugged slightly. “Not with absolute certainty. No, ma’am.”

  Chen was being professional and honest, admitting the weaknesses in the case rather than exacerbating them but looking defensive.

  “It’s possible she’s still alive, isn’t it?” Edwards pressed.

  This time Chen chewed his cheek for a moment. “No, ma’am. I don’t think so.”

  Edwards frowned. Brunelle stopped himself from smiling.

  “Why is that?” Edwards had to follow up. One of the rules of cross examination was never to ask open-ended questions like ‘Why?’ and ‘How?’ Instead, make statements and force the witness to agree. Edwards was good enough to do that. But sometimes, to also avoid looking defensive, you have to ask the follow up question the jury wants the answer to.

  “Well, ma’am,” Chen looked again to the jury to explain, “as I said before, it’s pretty much impossible to live any more without leaving some sort of trace behind. If Amy Corrigan were alive, I’d know it.”

  Edwards paused, debating her next question.

  “Okay, I’m not sure I agree with you,” she started. “But let’s assume for a moment that she’s dead and not just trying to avoid detection by friends or family or law enforcement. You don’t have any idea how she died, do you?”

  Chen paused for a moment. Then he inclined his head at Edwards. “I always have ideas. I’m a detective.”

  Chen was doing a good job parrying with Edwards. Brunelle stopped taking notes so he could just pay attention, enjoy the show.

  “I’m sure you do,” Edwards replied with a saccharine grin. “But unlike the man on East Marginal Way, you can’t say how she died, can you? You can’t say she was stabbed, or shot, or strangled, or whatever, can you?”

  Chen had to admit that. “No, ma’am. I can’t tell you the exact manner of death.”

  “And similarly,” Edwards asserted, “however she died, you don’t know who was there when it happened, do you?”

  Chen offered a slight smile. “Again, Ms. Edwards. I have my ideas.” Then he looked over at Kenny Brown.

  Edwards bristled. “Let’s not speculate, detective. You don’t know how Amy Corrigan died, you don’t know who was with her when she died, and, in fact, you don’t even know whether she’s dead, isn’t that all true, detective?”

  “Objection.” Brunelle finally stood up, but mostly to join in Chen’s game. “Compound question.”

  Edwards huffed. Grissom sustained the procedural objection. Brunelle sat down again, pleased with himself.

  “You don’t actually know how Amy Corrigan died, do you, detective?” Edwards repeated.

  “No, ma’am,” Chen conceded. Part of playing the game well was knowing when to stop.

  “And you don’t know who was with her when it happened, do you, detective?”

  Chen thought for a moment. “I can’t say for certain, no.”

  “And,” Edwards wrapped up, “it’s at least theoretically possible that Amy Corrigan is actually still alive and well as we sit here today, isn’t that true, detective?”

  Again Chen paused before replying. “I guess I would agree that it’s theoretically possible, yes.”

  “Thank you, detective,” Edwards said gruffly. Then she scooped up her binder and announced, “No further questions.”

  Grissom looked to Brunelle. “Any redirect examination?”

  Brunelle stood up. “Yes, Your Honor.”

  He didn’t have to prove the case beyond any doubt.

  “It might be theoretically possible to believe Amy is still alive,” Brunelle said, “but is it reasonable?”

  Chen answered before Edwards could object again. “No, sir.”

  “No further que
stions,” Brunelle said and he sat down again.

  He just had to prove the case beyond any reasonable doubt.

  Edwards had no recross, Chen was excused, and that completed the first day of trial. That was the good news. The bad news was Brunelle had to turn his attention to the star witness for the second day of trial. Chen may have stepped off the witness stand, but Brunelle wasn’t done with him for the day.

  After the jury filed into the jury room, and as the attorneys and court staff gathered up their things, Brunelle went out into the hallway to talk with his detective.

  Chen was waiting for him. “Jillian Hammond,” he said. “Right?”

  Brunelle nodded. “Right. I need her first thing tomorrow. Can you secure her?”

  “You mean, can I arrest her for prostitution, then bring her to the courtroom?” Chen translated. “Yeah, I can do that. She might be dressed in a tube top and stripper shoes, though.”

  “I don’t care if she’s dressed in Saran wrap,” Brunelle replied. “I just need her on the stand. Grissom didn’t let in Linda’s statements. I need Jillian’s.”

  Chen just stared back at Brunelle.

  “What?” Brunelle asked.

  Chen raised an eyebrow. “Saran wrap?”

  Brunelle shook his head and laughed. “You know what I mean.”

  Chen laughed too. “I’m just busting your chops. You got it. Jillian. Tomorrow morning. Saran wrap. Got it.”

  He patted Brunelle on the shoulder and walked away.

  Brunelle lingered for a moment, glad no one had overheard their conversation.

  But he was wrong.

  Chapter 35

  Brunelle suffered a long, restless night. His dreams tried to solve the dilemma his waking brain anticipated for the next day of trial. After far too little rest, he dragged himself out of bed, through the shower, and to the courtroom where Chen was waiting to confirm his fear.

  “I couldn’t find her.”

  Brunelle clenched a fist at his side. “Fuck.”

  “Yeah,” Chen agreed. “I can’t decide if I’m surprised or not.”

  Brunelle frowned at himself. “I scared her off. When I tried to serve her with the subpoena.”

  But Chen shook his head. “I don’t think so. I talked to the other girls. They said she stuck around after that. She didn’t disappear until last night. They were as surprised as me that she wasn’t there.”

  Brunelle gazed at the ground in contemplation of what to do next. Then something occurred to him.

  “Wait. How did they know what night I tried to serve the subpoena?”

  Chen laughed. “I asked when the nervous guy in the suit got beat up by their pimp.”

  Brunelle was dumbstruck. “How did you know I got beat up?”

  Chen laughed again and pointed to Brunelle’s still-healing cheek. “Pretty obvious.”

  Then Brunelle considered one more thing. “How did you know I was wearing a suit?”

  Chen placed a friendly hand on Brunelle’s shoulder. “Dave, you always wear a suit.”

  Brunelle frowned, but he could hardly argue.

  “No worries, Dave. You wear a suit well.”

  Brunelle was speechless. He’d almost forgotten what they were talking about. Almost.

  “So what do I do now?” he asked, more to himself than Chen. “I wanted to call Tina next.”

  “You mean Jillian?”

  Brunelle just stared at Chen. “Right. Yeah. Jillian.”

  They stood in thought for a few moments. “So what are you going to do?” Chen finally asked.

  Brunelle shrugged. “Can you keep looking for her?”

  Chen nodded. “Of course. But I don’t know how long it will take. What are you going to do in the meantime?”

  Brunelle smiled and smoothed out that suit he wore so well. “Stall.”

  Chapter 36

  One thing about a murder case was that there were usually a lot of witnesses. Civilians, first responders, crime scene techs, paramedics, ER doctors, patrol officers, detectives, medical examiners. That would normally have given Brunelle plenty of time to stall.

  Normally.

  But this case was different. The only civilians he had were Linda and Tina/Jillian, but Linda was dead and Jillian was M.I.A. There were no first responders or crime scene techs because there was no crime scene to respond to. There were no medical personnel because there was no body. The detective had already testified. So even with calling everyone even remotely related to the case, Brunelle was barely able to stretch things to the end of the week to buy Chen a weekend to find Jillian. But when Monday rolled around Chen didn’t have Jillian, and Brunelle only had one witness left.

  The medical examiner.

  “The state calls Dr. Kat Anderson.”

  The judge and jurors had that fresh Monday morning look to them. Attentive, not yet worn down by the week. Edwards looked sharp too. Even Kenny Brown seemed extra chipper, whispering with his attorney and generally looking like he felt good about his chances.

  Brunelle, on the other hand, felt crappy. He hadn’t slept well that weekend. He was worried about his case and doubtful Chen would find Jillian. Without her, he couldn’t get Brown’s confessions to the jury. If Chen tried to testify about it, Edwards would again cry hearsay, and Grissom would again sustain it. But the real reason he couldn’t sleep was Kat.

  He’d been able to throw himself into his work since they’d broken up.

  ‘Broken up’, he thought. Like it was mutual. He’d cheated on her and she’d found out. And the woman he’d cheated with, defense attorney Robyn Dunn, had enjoyed their tryst, then moved on almost before Kat was out the proverbial door.

  So, single again despite feelings for two different women, work was his refuge. Typical, really. Almost pathetically predictable. But effective. Until he needed Kat again—professionally, that is.

  He hadn’t even bothered to call her to schedule her testimony. He had Nicole do it. Monday morning at 9:00 a.m. He knew she’d be on time. He could always count on her. Too bad the same hadn’t been true about him.

  He was feeling pretty low that morning, and figured Kat would also look down. He expected an awkward interaction, her expression sad, his guilty. So it was a surprise punch in the gut when she marched into the courtroom looking better than ever, a smile beaming on her remarkably pretty face.

  She walked confidently to the witness stand and was sworn in by Judge Grissom. A moment later, everyone looked at Brunelle to start his direct examination. He hesitated, still distracted by how unexpectedly not-unhappy Kat looked. She wasn’t radiating sunshine or anything. She just looked normal. Over it. Over him.

  That stung more than he expected.

  “Uh,” he stammered, “Good morning.”

  “Good morning,” Kat replied evenly.

  “Please state your name for the record.”

  “Kat Anderson,” she told the jurors.

  “And how are you employed, ma’am?” He found solace in the familiar rhythm of the standard intro questions.

  “I’m an assistant medical examiner with the King County Medical Examiner’s Office.”

  “How long have you held that position?”

  “Twelve years.” Again, Kat looked at Brunelle when he asked the questions, then turned to the jury to deliver her answers.

  “Do you hold any special degrees for your position?”

  “I have a bachelor’s degree in organic chemistry and a medical degree from the University of Washington,” Kat explained. “I did my residency in forensic pathology at Harborview Medical Center, after which I was hired at the Medical Examiner’s Office.”

  Brunelle nodded. Damn, she was pretty impressive.

  “Okay, thank you,” he said. Just a verbal tic to acknowledge the end of the intro. “Uh, did you have occasion to conduct an autopsy in this case?”

  Kat raised an eyebrow at him. “Which case is that, counselor?”

  Brunelle hesitated, then realized he was paying too much
attention to his ex-girlfriend and not enough attention to the medical examiner. He’d spent days telling the jury there was no body and now he was asking a medical examiner about an autopsy.

  “Uh, this is the Amy Corrigan case,” he floundered. “But I don’t mean Amy Corrigan.”

  Fuck, he thought. Get it together, man.

  Deep breath.

  Reset.

  “You never did an autopsy on anyone named Amy Corrigan, did you, doctor?”

  Kat cocked her head. “Not recently,” she answered. “I can’t say I’ve never conducted an autopsy on someone with that name.”

  “Right,” Brunelle said. “Right. I just meant recently. No Amy Corrigan recently, right?”

  Kat nodded patiently. “Right.”

  “Because her body was never recovered?” Brunelle tried to clarify.

  But Kat shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not a police officer.”

  Brunelle grimaced at himself. “Right.”

  Another deep breath. Another reset.

  “Did you,” he slowed his voice in an effort to slow his heartbeat, “recently perform an autopsy on a woman named Linda Prescott?”

  Kat smiled slightly, like a mother whose child just figured out to stop touching the hot oven. “Yes.”

  The deep breaths were working. Brunelle was able to compartmentalize his screw up with Kat and focus on not screwing up the current case.

  There was a reason Kat was there and it wasn’t to reminisce. He needed to lay it out for the jury. Follow his mental bullet points and sit down.

  “Are autopsies performed on all deaths in King County?” he asked.

  “No,” Kat explained. “Autopsies are only performed on cases where the cause of death is unclear, or where criminal agency is suspected.”

  Brunelle liked that answer. It suggested her death was criminal. “How did you come to conduct the autopsy on Ms. Prescott?”

  “Seattle police were called out to a death at the Pacific Motel,” Kat told the jurors. “It was late at night, almost midnight, I believe. I didn’t go out to the scene; one of our technicians collected the body. It was stored until the next morning when I conducted the autopsy. One of several I did that day.”

  “And why was an autopsy necessary?” Brunelle wanted to push on that a little for the jurors.