Three of the jurors on the front row nodded their understanding of Texas politics. Christiansen could see his witness was about to mount the stump to lead a political rally and wanted to stop it. “Let me interrupt, Mr. Hale, Let’s get to the current times. Why did you agree to have this big fundraiser in your house?”
Hale turned to the jury. “Money. I’ve learned through the years that money is the grease that makes the political wheels turn. More and more in every election cycle. Kevin O’Connell here,” he said as he pointed to the man at the plaintiffs’ table, “came to my house and explained this Citizens United decision from the U.S. Supreme Court and a couple of others that came after that one. He made me understand that the price of poker just went up big time. If we conservatives were going to stay in the game, we had to up the ante. That’s why I agreed to host the fundraiser and invited every rich conservative I could think of. It’s time to get the damn Democrats out of the White House.”
“Why a costume party?”
“That was Kevin’s idea. Halloween was coming up. The money being raised was going into this social welfare fund. I call it a dark PAC. That may not be technically right, but it’s easier to say. Costumes and masks were intended to convey the message that no one can look behind the mask.” He shook his head. “In hindsight, it probably wasn’t a good idea.”
Christiansen sucked in a breath at that statement and let it out slowly when he realized he had to follow up. “Meaning what, Mr. Hale?”
“Maybe if every damn fool wasn’t in a costume, someone might have noticed that woman sooner. A few seconds might have saved my brother’s life.”
Christiansen grabbed onto that thought. “A few seconds?”
Hale pounded the witness stand with his fist. “Yes, sir. Damn right.” His face was turning red. “If someone had spotted her a few seconds sooner, Edward would still be here.”
Christiansen had several pages more of questions, but he knew to quit at a dramatic moment. He barely hid a smile when he said, “Pass the witness, Your Honor.”
The judge looked at the clock. “Let’s take our mid-morning break. Please be back in the jury room in fifteen minutes.”
When the jury was gone, J.D. turned to his dad. “Not now, son. Let’s go back to our conference room. He turned to Walt and the rest of the detail. “You guys take a break.”
Jack led J.D. and Colby back to the conference room and shut the door. “Okay, now talk.”
“I didn’t know that testimony about a few seconds was coming.”
“Neither did I. I doubt if Cecil did either. Damn sure plays well since they’re talking about seconds. We can still deal with it.”
“You going to do it now?” Colby asked.
“Not now. We’ll get back to it. I’ve got other matters to cover with Oscar.”
65
“Mr. Hale, you and your brother were equal business partners, correct?” Jack started.
Hale shrugged his shoulders to suggest that was no surprise. “Yes, sir. Dad left us each fifty percent of his estate. With his Yale degree and my Aggie degree, we did pretty well by him.”
“Am I correct, sir, that you were each worth around forty billion dollars at the time of his death?”
Their net worth was published every year in Forbes magazine. Again, he shrugged his shoulders. “More or less, maybe a little less now that the price of oil is down, but it’ll come back.”
“It’s also true that up until a few years ago you and Edward jointly contributed to Republican and conservative causes?”
A puzzled look flitted across Christiansen’s face.
“True, Mr. Bryant.”
“That changed after Edward married Maria, didn’t it?”
Hale looked at Christiansen and remained silent.
“You have a problem with that question, Mr. Hale?”
“Objection, Your Honor. Argumentative and vague.”
“Overruled. Answer the question, Mr. Hale.”
Hale took a sip of water, swallowed and paused before he answered. “Mr. Bryant, I’m very fond of Maria. She’s a fine, cultured lady, very intelligent and loved my brother.”
Bryant rose. “Objection, Judge. Non-responsive.”
Judge Jamison looked over her glasses. “Sustained. Mr. Hale, please answer the question.”
Hale realized he had no choice. “As much as I respect Maria, she’s a Democrat. After they married, she had my brother’s ear. They spent more and more time in New York. Damn city has too many damn liberals for me.”
Bryant remained standing. “Let’s get back to the question. Eventually, Edward told you that he was no longer going to contribute to your right wing causes. Your Honor, may I approach the witness?”
Jamison nodded.
“J.D. please put Exhibit 22 up on the overhead.”
“Mr. Hale, I’m handing you Exhibit 22 that is also being shown on the overhead. Can you identify it as your pledge of ten million dollars on the night of the fundraiser?”
Hale read it and turned to the back where he read the fine print.
“That’s signed only by you, not your brother, correct sir?”
The witness thought for a few seconds and answered, “Correct.”
“You got your brother and his wife to attend your fund raiser as some kind of show of solidarity, but he was not going to contribute to O’Connell’s PAC, or whatever you call it.”
Hale folded his arms. “He had apparently been convinced by his wife that our country needed to go in a different direction. I don’t know for sure.”
Jack returned to his table and retrieved Exhibit 23. “You see this. It is from the tax returns of Edward and Maria which we subpoenaed. Look at this line. There’s a contribution to a 501(c)(4) organization called Citizens For A Moderate Republic for twenty-five million. You know about that? Let remind you that you are under oath.”
Hale’s shoulders slumped. “I heard that they were talking to some organization like that. I tried to talk Edward out of it. I didn’t know what they were contributing.”
“Certainly, he had the means to contribute a billion dollars to moderate or liberal causes, if he chose.”
“He could. So could I. Neither of us would have missed it.”
“Pass the witness.”
Christiansen was at a crossroads. He could pass the witness and act as if nothing happened or he could take the bull by the horns. He stared down at his table long enough that the judge was about to say something when he looked up. “Mr. Hale, because of what Edward was doing politically, did you have him killed?”
Hale stood at the witness stand and looked at the jury. “Of course not, ladies and gentlemen. We had developed some political differences, but we were still family.”
66
Maria Hale walked to the stand in a black Dior dress, gold necklace, matching earrings and two thousand dollar Jimmy Choo heels. At forty-nine she had maneuvered carefully to get to her position of luxury in life, and she saw no reason to hide her wealth. She grew up in Athens, in East Texas, the only daughter of an auto mechanic and a Dairy Queen waitress. When she graduated from high school, she escaped the small town and landed in Fort Worth where she worked at Macy’s in women’s shoes and attended community college. It was at Macy’s where she met her first husband, a handsome thirty-something with a chiseled face and raven black hair. When she learned he was a plastic surgeon, she turned on the charm. A year later he had divorced his first wife, and they married. He had three children with his first wife and wanted no more. Maria was fine with that. Along with the marriage came a membership in Shady Oaks. She spent her time playing tennis and golf and having discreet affairs with pros in both sports.
Unfortunately, word of the affairs eventually drifted from the women’s locker room to the men’s grill. A divorce soon followed. After a second marriage ended in a similar fashion, Maria found herself financially secure and traveling in the upper levels of Fort Worth society. It was at a charity ball that she met Edward who
was sitting across the table. That evening she checked him out on the internet and decided he was the grand prize she had been looking for. She literally stalked him, learning where he had lunch, when he played golf, where he went on business trips. She even arranged to stay at the Ritz in New York and feigned surprise to run across him in the bar. Once she set her sights on him, the sixty year old man never had a chance.
They married, but only when Edward demanded a pre-nuptial agreement that left her with only a hundred million dollars if they divorced. Over the years they spent more time in New York while they maintained their official residence in Westover Hills. Edward had an office in New York and spent the day on conference calls with his brother and oil industry executives. He and Oscar had heated arguments over politics when Maria convinced Edward that the country needed to come together in the middle. When she took the stand, she was confident that she could sell herself to the jury and defend whatever attack Jack threw her way.
“You lost your husband last fall at the fund raiser at your brother-in-law’s house?” Christiansen asked.
Maria Hale thought she was in control, but choked up as she thought back to that night.
“Yes, yes, sir.”
“Do you need a tissue?”
“I’m okay.”
“You and Edward were married how long?”
“I’m forty-nine now. We married when I was forty. So last fall it was eight years.”
“Before I get to the events of that evening, I want to cover something that Mr. Bryant brought up. At first you and Edward didn’t see eye to eye about politics, did you?”
She turned to look at the jury, knowing that the white jurors were probably all conservative Republicans. The blacks and Hispanics were almost surely Democratic. She chose her words carefully. “Edward was a staunch conservative like his brother when we met. I was a Democrat. We regularly discussed politics and the state of our country, both in Fort Worth and with friends in New York. After several years, we decided that the only way we could move our country forward was to end the sharp divides between Republicans and Democrats, African-Americans and Anglos, you name it. We compromised as moderates and have given generously to both Democrats and Republicans as long as they are not on the fringes. We had enough money that we thought we could make a difference.”
Christiansen pointed to Oscar who was now seated in the back row. “How did your brother-in-law take that?”
“We had several heated arguments over the years, but finally decided to set politics aside and keep family together.”
“Still, you showed up at Oscar’s house that night, knowing it was going to be a fundraiser for conservative Republicans.”
Maria Hale nodded her head. “We did, Mr. Christiansen. Again, we wanted to show the world that family was more important than politics.” She reached for a tissue as she teared up. “In hindsight, it was as bad decision.”
Christiansen moved to the podium in the middle of the room. “I know this is difficult for you but I just want to cover briefly the events of that evening. Let’s skip to when you were seated on the stage beside your husband. What do you recall?”
“First, I was pleased for Oscar and Mr. O’Connell. I don’t agree with them, but I still love Oscar. The pledges were even better than expected. There was a lot of noise. People were having a good time. A few were drunk. I heard a popping sound and saw Governor Lardner collapse. In my mind, time just stopped. I saw his security detail pulling him and his wife from the stage. Edward grabbed my arm to follow them. Then he was shot in the head, close to his left temple. He fell backwards into my arms. My first thought was about Mrs. Kennedy and the assassination of President Kennedy. I, I held my husband in my arms.” She paused to wipe her eyes. “I don’t know if he was still breathing or not. Right after he fell I heard another shot and Mr. O’Connell fell to the floor. Then there was pandemonium.”
The courtroom was silent as everyone, including the jurors, took in the events as described by the widow.
“Mrs. Hale, just one more question about that night. How long between the first and second shots?”
Maria Hale wiped her eyes. “I couldn’t tell you from my own memory. I’ve seen the video.”
Jack rose to his feet. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Hale, but I object, Your Honor. If she’s going to tell what she saw on the video, that video itself would be the best evidence.”
“Sustained, Mr. Bryant.”
“We’ll save the video for a later time. Thank you, Mrs. Hale. Oh, one more question about your damages. What are you claiming?”
“I don’t need money, Mr. Christiansen, but I’m going to go through my life with this horrible memory and without my husband. I blame the protective detail for that and they should be found responsible.”
“No more questions, Judge.”
“Mrs. Hale, I’m going to be brief. Take yourself back, one more time, to that night,” Jack began. “When you got to the stage and looked out, what thoughts went through your mind?”
“Objection, Your Honor. Vague,” Christiansen said.
“Overruled. You may answer.”
The witness rubbed her eyes as she thought back to that night. “I’m under oath; so, I’ll tell you exactly what I thought. There was this mass of humanity, all in costumes and masks. There was a lot of drinking. The noise was deafening. Corks were popping constantly. I heard a few shots that must have been blanks because none of the cops or security did anything.”
“Anything else?”
The witness blew out a breath and looked at the jury. “I actually turned to Edward and said that I don’t like this situation. Something could happen. Maybe it was a woman’s intuition, but I, I was frightened. I had never seen anything like it.”
“I’m moving on, now, Mrs. Hale. May I approach the witness, Your Honor?”
Judge Jamison nodded.
“I’m handing you Exhibit 9 for the defense. Can you identify it as the pre-nuptial agreement that you and Mr. Edward Hale signed before you were married?”
The witness glanced at the exhibit and flipped through the pages. “It appears to be. Do I need to read every page?”
“Your choice. Can you confirm that is your signature on the last page?”
“Yes.”
Jack stood at the podium, leaning slightly on his cane. “Please turn to page 14, paragraph 34. J.D., please put that page on the overhead and zoom in to paragraph 34. I’m not going to read all of the legalese, but it says that the agreement is binding in the event of a divorce. If that occurs, you are to receive one hundred million dollars. If the marriage ends because of the death of either spouse, the marital estate is to be divided according to any valid will. Correct, Mrs. Hale?”
The witness hesitated long enough that Judge Jamison said, “You need to answer the question, Mrs. Hale.”
The widow’s face became hard. She glared at Jack. “That’s correct, Mr. Bryant.”
“Edward’s will has been filed for probate in this courthouse. Under the terms of that will since your husband died, you stand to inherit twenty billion dollars with the rest going to his children, right, Mrs. Hale?”
“Mr. Bryant,” the witness erupted, “If you are insinuating that I would have had my husband killed for any amount of money, that’s outrageous and I resent it.”
One of the jurors on the back row turned to the man beside him and whispered, “I don’t know how much it would take for me to have my old lady bumped off, but I believe twenty billion would be enough.” The seatmate nodded his agreement.
“Mrs. Hale, I’m just bringing out the facts. The jurors can draw their own conclusions.”
At the lunch break Jack had arranged for sandwiches and soft drinks to be delivered to their conference room. While they were eating, there was a knock at the door.
“Come in,” Jack said. It was Hartley.
“Can I take a minute of your time?”
“Sure. Have a seat.”
“I’m only eating half my sandwich,”
Colby said. “You want the other?”
“No thanks.” Hartley turned to Jack. “I didn’t see this coming. Two witnesses and you have two suspects, or at least two people who had a motive for killing Edwards.”
Jack nodded as he chewed on a chip.
“I didn’t know that there was such a big riff in the family. You think that Oscar was pissed enough that he had his own brother done in?”
“Don’t have any evidence of it, but I’m laying out the facts.”
“And, Mrs. Hale. I’d read the will that was filed for probate, but I never saw the pre-nup. She had twenty billion reasons. Going to make an interesting story in tomorrow’s Star Telegram. You have any more suspects?”
Jack remained noncommittal. “Maybe another one or two. You’ll just have to stay and watch.”
67
“My name is Kevin O’Connell. I live in Washington, D.C., but, I spend so much time in Texas that I’m beginning to talk like you folks.”
“Your occupation is what?” Christiansen asked
“My umbrella organization is O’Connell Communications, Inc. I’ve got various other PACs and advertising companies and such within OCI.”
“One of those is called the Stepper PAC?”
“Yes, sir.”
Christiansen smiled at the jury. “Kinda an unusual name for a political action committee. Where did you come up with that?”
“I think I heard the saying sometime in my Texas travels. Some old boy said, ‘That ain’t no hill for a stepper.’ So, I incorporated it and the motto became Washington’s no hill for a stepper.”
“Then there’s something called Stepper Official Strategies?”
Dark Money Page 31
