Natural Justice: A Legal Thriller (Tex Hunter Legal Thriller Series Book 6)

by Peter O'Mahoney

  Chapter 37

  The crowd erupted after Hunter finished questioning Maggie Richardson. The locals were buzzing with gossip, and Judge Johnson did his best to call them back to order. He ordered the bailiffs to remove anyone who continued to talk, and after two people were removed, the crowd quietened down.

  Hunter looked at Richardson and then to Tanner. He expected the prosecutor to request a recess, or even move to dismiss the case. But Tanner didn’t offer anything. Not even a sideways glance. Judge Johnson looked over the top of the bench at Tanner, expecting the same as Hunter.

  “Counselor, would you like to request a recess?”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Tanner said. “We would like to have the opportunity to question the witness.”

  Judge Johnson squinted, and Hunter turned to look at Tanner. Tanner didn’t react at all.

  “Very well,” Judge Johnson said. “Go ahead.”

  The crowd was silent behind them. They were hanging on every word. Hunter looked confused. Javier’s knee was bouncing under the table.

  “Miss Richardson,” Tanner stood and walked around the front of his desk. “Do you care greatly about Mr. Mitchell?”

  She leaned forward into the microphone. “I do.”

  “You said you ‘love’ him. Is this true?”

  “Yes. I do.”

  “If he was in trouble, would you help him?”

  “Of course I would.”

  Tanner turned around and looked at Chief Richardson. Hunter looked as well. Richardson provided a nod of approval.

  “Do you suffer from any mental health issues?”

  “Objection. Relevance,” Hunter called out.

  “Overruled. I need to see where this goes,” Judge Johnson responded.

  Maggie looked at her father. He kept his glare on her.

  “Miss Richardson?” Tanner pressed. “Do you, or have you in the past, suffered any mental health issues?”

  “I’ve had issues in the past. My mother died when I was ten and that made my teenage years quite difficult to navigate. And I found it hard at home because my father was an overbearing beast who used to beat me.”

  Tanner looked back at Chief Richardson, who nodded again. Tanner was reluctant in his next question. “Did you have to see a psychologist to deal with issues about lying?”

  Maggie’s mouth hung open as she glared at her father.

  “Miss Richardson?” Tanner pressed. “After your mother died, did you have consistent episodes of lying, which became so intense, you had to see a clinical psychologist to help with these issues?”

  “I’m telling the truth now.”

  “That’s not what I asked. I asked, have you had issues with lying in the past?”

  “As a young teen, I had issues with lying, yes.” She folded her arms. “But I dealt with it. The lies were my way of processing what happened to my mother. I was trying to live in a fantasy world while trying to make sense of why my mother died.”

  “And I asked if you had to see a psychologist as a result of these issues?”

  “I did.”

  “How many years did you see the psychologist?”

  “Five.”

  “Five years. Five years of lying. Five years of telling mistruths. Five years of making things up to suit yourself. Five years of—”

  “Objection. Counselor is testifying,” Hunter called out.

  “Sustained.”

  Tanner grunted, unhappy his moment in the sun had been interrupted. He composed himself and moved to the lectern. “Miss Richardson, you said that Mr. Townsend used to hit you when you were dating. Are you lying about that as well?”

  “No.”

  “Are you the daughter of the Longford’s Police Chief?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you ever make an official police report to say Mr. Townsend hit you?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I didn’t want Chad to get in trouble.”

  “Do you expect this court to believe that you, the daughter of Longford’s Police Chief, didn’t make a report about someone hitting you because you didn’t want your abuser to get in trouble?”

  “That’s the truth.” She swallowed. “When abuse is the only love you’ve known; you seek it out.”

  “So you’re saying that Mr. Mitchell must’ve hit you as well?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “Javier showed me that love can be different. He showed me a gentle love, not one that was all about ownership.”

  “When Mr. Mitchell hit you, was it harder than Mr. Townsend or softer?”

  “He never hit me, and he was never violent towards me.”

  “How many times was Mr. Mitchell forcefully physical to you?”

  “Never.”

  “How many times did he slap you?”

  “Objection,” Hunter called out. “Asked and answered. The witness has stated the defendant was never violent towards her.”

  “Sustained,” Judge Johnson responded. “Move on from this line of questioning, Mr. Tanner.”

  Tanner poised himself, and looked over his notes before he continued questioning the witness. “Miss Richardson, you said you would help Mr. Mitchell if he was in trouble. Does that include lying in court?”

  “What? No.” She shook her head. “I wouldn’t lie for him in court.”

  “You haven’t stepped forward to tell this story before now, have you?”

  “No.”

  “And this is the first time you’ve publicly made this statement?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you find it convenient that you’ve stepped forward now? Mr. Mitchell is halfway through a trial, and you make up a story that would not only get Mr. Mitchell off the charges, but it would also get you off any charges, as your actions would most likely be deemed self-defense. Do you find that convenient?”

  “This is the truth and I need to tell it to everyone.” She glared at her father. “This is what really happened that night. I was there.”

  “Miss Richardson.” Tanner turned to look at Chief Richardson again. When he received another nod of approval, he turned back and continued. “I’ll ask you directly. Are you lying to protect Mr. Mitchell?”

  Her mouth hung open for a moment, and then she turned to look at her father. “No, I’m telling the truth. Javier Mitchell didn’t kill Chad Townsend.”

  “It’s all rather convenient, isn’t it? One last attempt to save the person you love.” Tanner nodded and looked at the jury. One jury member was shaking her head in disappointment at Maggie. “No further questions.”

  “Your Honor, the defense would like to submit a motion for a mistrial.” Hunter stood.

  “When filed, the motion will be dismissed.” Judge Johnson was quick in his response. “Do you have a redirect for your witness, Mr. Hunter?”

  “Your Honor.” Hunter’s voice was firm. “This young woman has stated, under oath, that she was responsible for the death of Chad Townsend. It’s not up to the prosecution to make claims about the validity of her statement.”

  “Don’t lecture me on the law, Mr. Hunter. There’s no rigid formula to determine a witness's competency.” Judge Johnson’s tone was strong. “It’ll be up to the police to investigate this claim. This courtroom isn’t the police station. On the basis of this testimony, if the police wish to investigate this case, then they can, and they’ll relay the information to the prosecution.”

  “Given the circumstances, and who has made the claim, you cannot expect that to happen.”

  “Are you suggesting our police force is somehow corrupt, Mr. Hunter? I would caution you before making an accusation of that level in this courtroom,” Judge Johnson responded. “We’re here, in this court, to assess the guilt of Mr. Mitchell. Anything other than that is outside the scope of this trial. It’s for the police to investigate and the prosecutor to follow up on those charges. We’re not the police. Now, do you have a redirect for your witness?”

  “One questio
n.” Hunter turned to look at Maggie Richardson in the witness stand. “Miss Richardson, do you love Mr. Mitchell enough to tell the truth?”

  “Yes. The truth is I was there that night. That’s the honest truth.”

  “No further questions.” Hunter sat down.

  “Then the witness is excused.” Judge Johnson turned back to the lawyers. “We’ll recess for the rest of the day for the police to conduct initial investigations into this claim, and then, if the prosecution wishes to request more time, so be it. But if there’s no request from the prosecution, then we’ll proceed tomorrow with this trial to assess the guilt of Mr. Mitchell.”

  Chapter 38

  Hunter slammed the door of his hotel room, the door barely remaining on its hinges.

  Anger was something he’d learned to manage years ago, the result of his childhood. Any hint of anger, any hint of rage, and he was accused of having his father’s genes. He’d learned to hide it, to force it down under his stoic exterior, but there were times when it was too much to resist. He needed to get Javier free. He needed to know what his sister knew. He needed to know the truth. He’d long felt his father was innocent, and that feeling of not knowing the truth, being lied to time and time again, left him feeling broken inside. He’d channeled those emotions into his work, determined to see every innocent person he defended set free.

  He’d bought a bottle of Jack Daniels on the way back to the hotel, and he cracked the top off. He poured a drink. Then another.

  The prosecution wasn’t going to drop the charges. They convinced themselves that Maggie Richardson was lying to protect her boyfriend. Chief Richardson would re-interview his daughter, and then dismiss her claims as lies. There was no evidence other than her word. No one could place her there, her DNA was not at the scene, nor was there any other evidence.

  Hunter’s phone rang. It was 7:05pm.

  “The case is going ahead.” Tanner opened the call. “Chief Richardson, along with one of his deputies, has reviewed the claims, re-interviewed Maggie Richardson, and decided there was no truth to her claims. On the basis of evidence, Mr. Mitchell is still charged with first-degree murder, and no lies by his girlfriend will get him out of it. Maggie wasn’t even able to tell us some of the things at the scene of the crime. The more she talked, the more it became obvious she was lying.”

  “You’re really going through with this?” Hunter said. “You’re not moving to dismiss the case?”

  “As far as we’re concerned, Javier Mitchell killed Chad Townsend. We’re not withdrawing the case just because his girlfriend stood up and said— ‘whoops, you know what, I killed him in self-defense.’ That’s not going to fly in this city. We know what really happened, and her lies don’t change anything we’re doing. We saw through the tricks.” Tanner’s tone was laced with arrogance. “It’s a little convenient, don’t you think? She presents a scenario where the only option is to claim self-defense, and then she and Mr. Mitchell walk away. No, we’re not falling for that.”

  “I need to see the interview file.”

  “It’s recorded. I’ll have my assistants email the file through to you.” Tanner was almost laughing. “I’ll see you in court tomorrow, bright and early.”

  Hunter hung up the phone and threw his glass against the drywall, shattering it into pieces. The evidence was there, the truth was in front of them, but nobody wanted to listen. Their bias had led them to the wrong decision.

  There was a knock at the door. Hunter clenched his fists. He was ready. Within seconds, he swung the door open, ready to fight. He was ready to throw down.

  But then the breath caught in his throat. “Esther?”

  Hunter stood frozen at the door. Esther folded her arms across her chest and looked up to Hunter. She nodded.

  “What… What are you doing here?”

  “A hello would’ve been nice.”

  “Uh? Oh… yes. Of course. Right.” Hunter stumbled over his words. “Yes. Hello.”

  “That sounded like a glass smashing. Are you ok?” she stood in the doorway, but he didn’t respond. “It’s good to see you, Tex.”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes?”

  “Um… yes… I mean, it’s good to see you too.” The words fell out of his mouth. “It’s great to see you.”

  “That’s better,” she said. “Is that whiskey I smell?”

  Hunter drew a long breath and looked over his shoulder at the open bottle, already a third of it gone. “It’s been a hard day.”

  “I know,” Esther said. “Carol called me.”

  “Carol called you?”

  “She called me because she thought today was going to be the win. Once she heard what Maggie had to say, she thought the case would be over by the afternoon. So, I jumped in the car, and I drove down here to celebrate with you, but then Carol called me back a few hours later. She told me all about it.”

  Hunter’s anger broke. His shoulders dropped, he sighed, and he leaned his head against the door.

  “Are you going to invite me in?” Esther asked.

  He nodded and opened the door. She stepped into his hotel room.

  “It’s not much,” Hunter said. “But it’s the best hotel in the city.”

  “I know. I booked it, remember?”

  “Of course you did,” Hunter said. “I’m sorry, I’m a bit surprised to see you here. I…” He paused and looked back at the broken glass. “It’s been a tough day.”

  Esther paused as she looked at the cracked piece of drywall and glass beneath it. She walked to the cupboard, picked up two more glasses, and put them on the table. She poured two glasses of Jack Daniels, reached into the mini-bar fridge and removed a coke can, and then an ice-tray. She poured both drinks and handed one to Hunter. “I don’t have to drive.”

  Hunter turned and looked at the bed in the hotel room, and then looked back at her.

  “Don’t get jumpy, big guy. I’ve got a room five doors down.” She removed a key from her pocket.

  “That’s not what I… I wasn’t…” He stumbled over his words. “I just…”

  “It’s ok. You need to focus, Tex. You need to spend the night preparing to win this case.”

  He nodded; his emotions clear to see. He sat down on the armchair, glass in hand. Esther pulled out the chair from his desk and went to sit down, but thought against it. She turned, walked over to him and kissed him on the cheek, long and slow, full of emotion.

  Hunter sat like a deer in headlights, unsure what to say, unsure what to do.

  Esther walked back to the office chair and rolled it closer to the bed, before kicking her feet up on the edge. “Tex, you and I need to talk when this case is finished.”

  “We do.”

  They sat in uncomfortable silence for a number of minutes, exchanging uncomfortable looks, unsure what to say, until Esther broke the silence.

  “You know, last time I was in a hotel room, I asked the receptionist to call me in the morning for a wake-up call at 5am. So, the phone rings, I answer it, and the lady asks, ‘What are you doing with your life?’”

  Hunter smiled and shook his head, struggling to hold his smile back. “That’s an old one.”

  “Carol says you’re thinking of driving back to Chicago before the case is over.” She brought the conversation back to work. “I hope you’re not going to do that. Javier needs you to see this through to the end.”

  Hunter’s head dropped, staring into his JD and coke. “I just… I can’t beat them, Esther. This isn’t justice like we know it. This isn’t the law like we know it. These men get to do whatever they want. You should’ve seen it—a witness told the court that her father beats her, and nobody batted an eyelid.”

  “You can beat them, Tex. It’s always been you against the system.” Esther’s voice was calming. “You’ve always been amazing. Don’t give up the fight now. I know you, and I know you can’t back away from a fight.”

  They finished their drinks in silence, and then Esther said goodnight, leaving Hunt
er’s hotel room to head to her own room five doors down. When he closed the door to his hotel room, he tapped his head against the wall.

  She was right. He wasn’t ready to finish fighting yet.

  Chapter 39

  Tanner offered no deal. He didn’t even bother to return Hunter’s numerous phone calls to argue the issue further. Hunter called the police station, the prosecutor’s office, and anyone who could have any influence.

  When he arrived at the courthouse steps the following morning, Tanner was waiting for him, briefcase in hand. Flanked by Carol on one side and the striking Esther Wright on the other, Hunter didn’t stop as he passed Tanner.

  “Brought in the big guns?” Tanner called out as Hunter stepped past him. “I should really get up to Chicago one day soon.”

  Hunter swung around to see Tanner staring at Esther’s long legs. Hunter stepped over to him, towering over his head. He grunted.

  “My mistake.” Tanner raised his hands in surrender. “I meant no offense.”

  Hunter turned around and proceeded through the security checkpoint. Tanner continued only a few steps behind.

  “We chase killers all the way down here, and no little tricks from their girlfriends will change our minds,” Tanner called out as he stepped through the metal detector. “No one will believe the little stunt pulled by Maggie. Imagine that? Having your girlfriend try to cover for you? How weak. We weren’t fooled by her little stunt.”

  Hunter didn’t respond, walking to the courtroom with renewed vigor. With Esther and Carol by his side, he had the dream team, a team strong enough, smart enough, and skillful enough to win the case.

  For the next three days, Hunter called witness after witness, expert after expert, building a clear picture of what happened that night. He created doubt that Javier was anywhere near Norwich Park that night. He created doubt about what really killed Chad Townsend. And he created doubt around the blood, DNA, and hair samples found on Chad Townsend’s shirt.