Medicine Wheel

by Ron Schwab

“I want to pick your brain.”

  “You can pick what’s left of it.”

  “I haven’t had a chance to talk with you. I’m representing a client in a murder case. You’ve probably heard about it.”

  “Our client is Kirsten Cavelle. She’s been staying at your place pending charges. The county attorney’s going to file charges at ten o’clock tomorrow morning.”

  “How’d you know that? I just came from Frank Fuller’s office.”

  “Reva told me.”

  “How’d she know?”

  “She was at the probate judge’s office this morning, and the clerk said she’d heard the rumor. Gossip runs through the courthouse like small pox, and the people there tell Reva everything.”

  “Shit. I haven’t even talked to Kirsten yet. I need to get out to the house and talk with her.”

  “No need. She’ll be here in an hour or so. Pilar sent a rider in to make an appointment. It seems your client wants to make some financial arrangements.”

  “And she wants to meet with you?”

  Myles shrugged, “I guess she wants the best. Come on, Cameron; that’s not your cup of tea.”

  “No, but she might have asked me. Then I could have referred her to you.”

  “I suspect Pilar gave the referral. She generally cuts right to the chase.”

  “Yeah. Well, anyway, I wanted to get your thoughts about this.”

  “I know next to nothing about criminal law.”

  “I just want your gut reaction.”

  “Fire away.”

  “I’ll have to explain the options to Kirsten, but Frank’s offered a deal.”

  “What kind of deal?”

  “If she’ll enter a guilty plea, Frank will charge her with second degree. Otherwise, he goes for first.”

  “She hangs for first. What happens with second?”

  “Not less than ten years.”

  “What’re your chances of a ‘not guilty’ verdict?”

  “Hard to tell. She put a bullet between her husband’s eyes while he was sleeping. Of course, he beat the hell out of her earlier, tried to chew off her breast like a damned beaver and raped her.”

  “Rape won’t fly. A man’s wife and a jury of twelve men.”

  “Probably not. But we have tintypes and witnesses to testify to the beating. I’m a little concerned that we had too much family on the scene. Thad was the first doctor to see her, and Pilar was there. It could hurt my credibility examining them on the witness stand. Thad took the tintypes, too. I didn’t have any choice under the circumstances.”

  “Do you have anything to gain by accepting the deal? First degree murder . . . doesn’t there have to be premeditation?”

  “Yes, that’s some of what bothers me. Frank claims to have evidence of premeditation. He doesn’t say what it is, and he doesn’t have to.”

  “What do you think your client is going to say about the proposed deal?”

  “After you meet her, you’ll see for yourself. She’s going to say something like ‘shit no.’”

  Myles lowered his head and rubbed his brow. Then he leaned back in his chair. “Have you thought about associating with another lawyer on the case . . . someone who could handle examination of family witnesses?” He added quickly, “You’d still run the case, but two heads are good . . . and you’d remove some awkward moments that might have a negative impact on the jury.”

  “And you’ve got someone in mind, of course.”

  Myles shuffled through the desk clutter and plucked out an envelope. He slipped out a letter and passed it to Cam, who began perusing the neatly typed pages. “A woman. Interesting,” Cam remarked.

  “Her family lives in Riley County. Her father’s Quincy Belmont. We’ve done some legal work for him. A good man.”

  “I know him. We buy some pork from him. She has quite a distinguished background. General Counsel for the Bill of Rights Society. First in her class at Howard University.”

  “She’s represented mostly women in Bill of Rights cases . . . several of those were accused of murder. She wants to move here to be nearer to her family and wants to talk with us about employment prospects. The young woman’s speaking in Topeka next week and offers to catch a train to Manhattan to meet with us. I’d need to reply by telegram. No chance the mail would get to Washington before she left.”

  “With her background we couldn’t afford her. You’re always saying we have enough work for three or four lawyers but enough money for two.”

  “Maybe she’d work for what she bills less an allowance for expense share.”

  “She’s colored.”

  “I can’t believe that would be a problem with you.”

  “Of course not. I was thinking we might get a colored man or two on the jury. Her color might not hurt. Perhaps, we could persuade her to stay over . . . sort of an audition, you might say. The trial won’t take more than four or five days. The evidence is pretty damn short on both sides. I could push for a speedy trial. I think Frank is anxious to get this behind him. He’s not that fond of high profile cases. I do think associate counsel could be helpful.”

  “I’m glad you thought of it,” his father said sardonically. “I’ll have Reva get off a telegram to Serena Belmont.”

  26

  REVA LED KIRSTEN to Cam’s office following her meeting with Myles Locke. After she was seated across from Cam’s desk, Cam asked, “Did you and the Judge hit it off all right?”

  “I love him,” she replied. “He doesn’t just hear you . . . he listens. He actually listens. And you may call him ‘Judge’ but he doesn’t judge. He’s kind and has a sense of humor and knows exactly what needs to be done.”

  “You’re talking about my father?”

  “Who else? He really put me at peace, and he’ll have my legal paperwork ready for me to sign tomorrow.”

  “May I ask what paperwork?”

  “A will and power of attorney. When we were riding back from his place Saturday afternoon, I asked Doc if he would look after my ranching business during any period I might be in jail. I know he didn’t want to, but he doesn’t say ‘no’ very easily if you haven’t noticed. He told me he would if you and your father had no objection. Your father had none.”

  “You hadn’t asked me yet. You should have talked to me before telling the Judge to go ahead with preparing a power of attorney.”

  She lifted her eyebrows and looked at him quizzically. “You have an objection?”

  “I’m not fond of the idea. He’s a key witness in your case. It might encourage the notion he’s a biased witness if the jury is made aware Thad’s handling your business. We already have a situation with the land purchase I’m not comfortable with.”

  “I want him to do it. He knows something about the cattle business. We’re different. Sometimes he’s kind of an innocent, expecting the best of people . . . I tend to expect the worst. But I trust him and I’ll rest easy if he’s looking after my business.”

  Cam shrugged. “Have it your way. We’ve got more serious things to talk about.”

  “The charges.”

  “Yes, Frank Fuller’s filing tomorrow, but he’s made an offer you have to consider carefully.”

  “Somehow that doesn’t reassure me.”

  Cam explained the county attorney’s proposal in detail and then asked if Kirsten had questions.

  “I do have some questions. As I understand it, murder in the first degree says the killing had to be willful, deliberate and premeditated. I don’t understand much of the legal shit, but I don’t see how Fuller can prove I planned to kill Max. So if he charges me with first degree, what if he can’t convince the jury . . . am I free?”

  “Not necessarily. The jury can still find you guilty of murder in the second degree. Premeditation isn’t required for second degree. The killing just has to be purposely and maliciously. Manslaughter of some degree is also an option for the jury, but I don’t think that’s likely at all. Your facts just don’t fit manslaughter as defined
by the Compiled Statutes of Kansas. You’re looking at first or second degree murder.”

  “Why do you think he’s considering the first degree murder charges?”

  “Two possibilities. One, he’s using that as a hammer to get you to enter a guilty plea, so he won’t have to try the case. Or two, he knows something I don’t know that would give a jury cause to believe you intended to kill Maxwell all the time and that, perhaps, you provoked the beatings as a cover.”

  “That’s total bullshit.”

  “Did you ever tell anyone, even in jest, you were going to kill Maxwell?”

  She did not reply for a time, obviously tracking through her memory. “Chet. I probably told Chet a dozen times I was going to kill the son of a bitch someday. But I never meant it. Chet knew I was just blowing off steam. He wouldn’t go to the law with that.”

  “But the law might have gone to him. Have you talked to Chet lately?“

  “Not for three or four days. He’s been busy looking after things at the ranch, and I haven’t been out to the place.”

  “I’ll talk to him and find out if the sheriff has been poking around. Can you think of anything you’ve said or done that might lead someone to think you had reason to kill your husband?”

  This time she did not hesitate. “Nigel Baker at the bank. I talked with him several times about a loan for Clem’s half section. He said that even if I took title to the land in my own name, Max would have to sign the mortgage for me to get the loan. It was my debt, and I couldn’t understand that. I was totally pissed about it. I think I said something once to the effect it would be a hell of a lot easier if I didn’t have a husband.”

  This was not a pleasant development. There was no way at this moment of knowing if Fuller or Sheriff Mallery had spoken with the banker, but Cam suspected Baker had been interviewed. If not, Kirsten’s statement would likely come to light sooner or later, or he would learn she had made similar statements to someone else. She was a stubborn, opinionated woman who was not inclined to keep her opinions to herself. She was an intelligent woman, but her quick temper could leave an unfortunate trail of unhelpful words.

  “Kirsten, I don’t think Fuller’s bluffing. If you don’t agree to his proposal, he’ll file the first degree charges.”

  “Can he convict me?”

  “There’s a definite risk. But we do have a defensive theory provided by Section 11 of Chapter 32 of the Compiled Statutes. It says that if the alleged homicide was committed under circumstances where it was justifiable or excusable, the jury is to return a verdict of not guilty. Lawyers will fight over just what that means, but the statute gives a jury a lot of wiggle room. And remember, you must be found guilty beyond a reasonable doubt. That gives the defense attorney something else to work with . . . planting seeds of reasonable doubt.”

  “Can you win?”

  “Yes, of course. But there are no guarantees. Juries are unpredictable. That’s one reason my father abhors the courtroom . . . says he’d as soon toss a silver dollar. Keep in mind, though, that the uncertainty cuts both ways. Fuller can’t be assured of a prosecutor’s verdict, either. That’s why he’s made the offer.”

  “So, if I’m found guilty, I’ll either hang if it’s first degree or do at least ten years . . . maybe more . . . in prison if it’s second.”

  “You understand correctly.”

  She suddenly looked very glum and took on a whipped puppy look. “I’d as soon hang as do that time in prison. Shit no. Tell Fuller to stick the deal up his skinny ass.”

  “I’ll tell him you turned down the offer. He’ll be formally filing the charges tomorrow morning. I told him you’d surrender at the courthouse . . . I’ll be with you, of course. No reason to have the sheriff bring you in and cause a public spectacle. I’ll try to get the district judge to set bond, but most judges don’t in capital cases, or the bond’s so high you can’t raise it. In other words you’ll probably sit in the county jail for a while.” He could see that the reality of her situation was sinking in. The future must seem terrifying to her, Cam thought.

  “I’ll need to stop here and sign my will and the power of attorney in the morning. Can we take time to handle the signings?”

  “Of course. I have one other item to put on the table . . . and we can talk about it more at the house tonight, if you like. With your permission I’m considering associating with another lawyer to act as co-counsel for your case.”

  “You’re scaring me. You really are concerned.”

  “I have family members who are going to be witnesses in this case. It would be better to have another lawyer dealing with their examination in the courtroom.”

  “I guess that makes some sense.”

  “We expect her in town late next week. She’s very experienced in representing women. I haven’t met her yet, so I reserve the right to change my mind after I’ve talked to her. I’d want you to meet her, too. You have the last word.”

  “She? A lady law wrangler? I thought you guys were a boys’ club.” Kirsten shrugged. “Hell, why not?”

  27

  THAD SAT IN the waiting area of his father’s office waiting for Cam and Kirsten to show up. He knew that Reva could see that he was nervous, because she kept making small talk. She was a totally sweet woman, unless somebody was making life difficult for the Judge, and then she could be tougher than a boot. She had covered his father’s backside since Thad was a small child.

  Thad had spoken briefly with his father when he arrived, but the Judge had an appointment with a farmer client, and he barely had time to elicit Thad’s promise to show up for Sunday dinner before disappearing into his office. He would welcome more time with his father, but they both led busy lives and would often go weeks without seeing each other for anything but several Sunday dinners a month. Someday, he knew he would look back and wish they had made more time. But the Lockes had the comfort many families didn’t have. They were all there for each other when the going got rough. They had never been split by petty feuds or envy. The Judge had seen enough of that in his probate practice over the years and instilled in his progeny the foolishness of quarrels over money and sibling bickering.

  Thad was unclear as to his purpose here this morning. Young Chuck James, Cam’s only full-time hand, other than Cookie, who was not much of a cowhand, had shown up at his place last night and informed him that Cam needed his help in town with Kirsten this morning, and he wanted him to be at the law offices before ten o’clock. Thad had beaten the deadline by a half hour.

  Fortunately, Thad had an open day other than emergencies that might come up, not that it would have mattered to Cam. He was, though, getting a little annoyed with his summonses, and whenever he heard from Cam these days, he seemed to get drug deeper and deeper into the Kirsten Cavelle mess. Indeed, it appeared to have a life of its own and Thad had a sense it was beginning to take over his.

  He gave a start when the door opened and Kirsten entered the office, trailed by Cam with a carpet bag in each hand. Thad hardly recognized Kirsten in her black, high-necked dress. He guessed Cam had costumed her as a widow in mourning for her public appearance today. He’d never seen her gussied up like this, and he thought she looked quite striking in black. Her grim face, however, betrayed her anxiety. Thad stood and nodded, at a loss for words for the occasion. She returned a small nervous smile.

  Reva was on her feet, taking command of the gathering. “Kirsten, why don’t you join me in the library? I’ll go over the documents with you. I can notarize the power of attorney, and I’ll ask Myles to step out and answer any questions. Myles didn’t think he should act as a witness, and I have Mabel from next door in the spare office, waiting to act as a second witness if you’re ready to sign the will.” She turned to Cam. “You might want to check your messages while you’re here.”

  Cam shrugged and grinned. “Yes, ma’am.” He headed for his office, but returned as soon as Reva disappeared with Kirsten.

  “You’re probably wondering why I asked you to
come in?”

  “Yeah, I’m a little confused about what I’m doing here.”

  “Kirsten seems more at ease when you’re around, and I’d like you to accompany her to the jail after she’s arrested. You can explain you are her doctor and that she’s still gravely ill and you want to check out her accommodations.”

  “She’s not gravely ill. That’s obvious to anybody.”

  “Well, make it clear she needs to be checked periodically for follow-up. She’s going to be facing hell in there, and for some reason she trusts you more than anybody. She’s going to need support, and you’re in the best position to see how she’s doing emotionally and physically. I’ve got to work on her case, and that’s where my focus will be every waking moment.”

  “I’ll see what I can do. It will give me opportunities to check with her about C Bar C business, I guess.”

  Cam slapped him on the back. “Thanks. I’m counting on you.”

  When Kirsten and Reva returned, Reva handed Thad an envelope bulging with papers. “Your power of attorney is in here. The will goes in our safe. You’ll need this at the bank to access Kirsten’s accounts. You have general power to handle any business that comes up.”

  “Thanks, Doc,” Kirsten said, “I really appreciate your doing this. Tell Henry you’re in charge of him, too.”

  “He won’t believe it. Besides, I don’t think I’m even in charge of me.”

  28

  THE RILEY COUNTY jail amounted to little more than a decrepit barn, which was, in fact, its former use. Construction of a new jail was in progress, but in the meantime the crudely-built, limestone structure housed the sheriff’s office and his prisoners.

  Cam and Thad accompanied Kirsten to the sheriff’s office, and Sam Mallery was there to greet them. No sooner had they walked through the door than the sheriff stepped forward and announced formally, “Mrs. Brannon, it is my duty to inform you that you are under arrest for the murder of Maxwell Brannon, and it is now my responsibility to take you into custody. My deputy, Gid Dagenhart, will escort you to your cell, where you will change into the clothing provided prisoners of this county.”