Every Reasonable Doubt

by Pamela Samuels Young

  “Can you tell me why it’s taking so long for my client to be released?”

  “That’s a question you should address to the desk sergeant. Not me.” She turned to leave.

  Neddy boldly jumped in front of her. “Don’t walk away from me. I’m not done yet.”

  A pompous smile formed on Julie’s lips. She pulled the strap of her purse higher on her shoulder and looked at her watch for a second time. “You’re in my way.”

  “I know for a fact that you’ve instructed the police to take their time processing Tina Montgomery out of lockup. I know you like to play dirty, but I’d appreciate it if you would make whatever calls you need to make so my client can go home.”

  “You shouldn’t make unsupported accusations like that, counselor. You could end up facing a defamation lawsuit.”

  “So sue me,” she challenged. “Truth is a complete defense, isn’t it?”

  They stood there in the entryway of the building staring each other down. Julie had a good six inches on Neddy, but the D.A.’s height didn’t seem to intimidate her. I noticed that they were beginning to draw the attention of officers inside the lobby as well as people walking in and out of the building.

  I tugged at Neddy’s forearm. “Let’s just go back inside,” I said.

  “You need to do something with her,” Julie spat before stomping off.

  “I hate her ass,” Neddy mumbled under her breath as we walked back inside. “I hate her ass, I hate her ass, I hate her ass!”

  “Calm down,” I whispered

  “You have no idea how much I wanted to give that giant twig a good slap.”

  “Good thing you didn’t. We’re in a jailhouse, remember? You want to take Tina’s place inside?”

  She slumped down into one of the hard, rickety chairs. “A few nights in jail would be worth the pleasure.”

  It was another forty-five minutes before a deputy escorted Tina into the lobby. She was dressed in the same burgundy, two-piece Capri set she had been wearing when the police snapped handcuffs on her wrists and carted her off two days earlier. Except now it was dirty and wrinkled.

  The three of us walked in silence to Neddy’s three-year-old, silver-blue BMW, which was parked in a public lot a block away. Tina slid into the backseat and I took the front. As soon as we were all strapped into our seat belts, Neddy let loose.

  “What happened in that courtroom today can’t happen again,” she said sternly, twisting her body around to face Tina in the backseat. “I explained to you that we wanted to waive time so we’d have a chance to better prepare for the preliminary hearing. But then you go and tell the judge you don’t want to waive time. That was just fuckin’ crazy.”

  Tina seemed surprised by Neddy’s anger. But Tina was fuming, too. “Prepare for what?” she fired back. “You told me they’re going to find probable cause and that the prelim is just a formality. I don’t see why we need to wait. I just want to get this over with.”

  Neddy inhaled and narrowed her eyes. “Even if we don’t get the case dismissed, what we learn at the prelim will be extremely important for us at trial,” she said slowly, struggling to control her rage. “You hired us to represent you, so let us.”

  “You’re not the one who had to spend two nights in jail, I—”

  Neddy held up her hand cutting Tina off. “And you’re not the one who has the legal expertise to keep your ass out of jail for the rest of your life. When we give you advice regarding procedural matters, you need to take it. If you can’t do that, then you need to hire somebody else.”

  I turned back around and stared out of the window. I was certain that we were about to be fired. But instead of pointing out that we worked for her and not the other way around, Tina started to cry. “I’m sorry,” she wailed, “I just want this thing over with.”

  Neddy wasn’t falling for the sympathy play and continued her lecture. “Well, it may go away faster now, but not the way you want it to go. What you did in there was screw yourself!”

  She stuck the key in the ignition and started up the car, still harping about how stupid Tina had been. I began to feel sorry for Tina and I definitely thought Neddy was overdoing it. Tina had already been beaten up enough from her jail stint.

  As we headed up Grand Street, I turned to face Tina in the backseat. “There’s a reason behind everything we do, every decision we make,” I said gently. “The only reason you’re sitting in this car wearing that lovely ankle bracelet is because of Neddy. We’re going to do everything we can to fight these charges, but you have to trust us.”

  “Okay, okay,” she said, wiping her tears. “I just thought—”

  Neddy cut her off again. “The next time you have a thought you want the judge to hear, do yourself a favor. Share it with us first.”

  CHAPTER 24

  Neddy dropped me off at the office to pick up my car, then left to deposit a sufficiently berated Tina back at home. After running upstairs to grab some files from my desk and picking up a Subway sandwich, I drove to Neddy’s house where we spent a long evening strategizing about the prelim.

  I worked on drafting the cross-examination outline for the coroner, while Neddy worked on one for the crime scene investigator. We tried to think up every possible question Julie might ask, as well as how each witness was likely to respond. Then we explored ways to poke holes in every answer that pointed toward Tina’s guilt.

  It was close to midnight by the time I made it home. I hoped Jefferson was already asleep. I was not in the mood to be scolded about my late hours. Once I’d discarded my purse and kicked off my shoes, I found him in the den, sitting in front of our Sony plasma watching The Tonight Show. When I spotted the pint of Ben & Jerry’s Coffee Heath Bar Crunch ice cream in his hands I happily exhaled. There was something about Ben and Jerry’s that always mellowed Jefferson out.

  I eased down on the couch next to him, resting my head on his shoulder.

  “I’m exhausted,” I yawned.

  He pulled an empty tablespoon from his mouth, licked it clean, then dug out another huge scoop of ice cream. “You’ve been working late almost every night since that other trial ended. Can’t you take a few days off to chill?” he asked, stuffing the spoon back into his mouth, crunching loudly on the toffee.

  “I wish,” I said. “Tina Montgomery’s preliminary hearing is next week, which means I’ll be eating and breathing this case until then.”

  “So what else is new?”

  I decided it was best to let that statement ride. We sat quietly for a while, occasionally laughing out loud at Jay Leno’s antics. The “Jay Walking” segment, where Leno stood on a street corner asking people simple questions and getting outrageously stupid answers, was Jefferson’s favorite part of the show.

  “I don’t understand why people that dumb would even get in front of the camera,” Jefferson said, howling with laughter.

  When Leno went to a commercial break, he put his arm around me and pulled me close. “So just how tired are you?” he said suggestively.

  “Definitely too tired for what you’ve got in mind, young man.” I gave him a peck on the lips and hoped he wasn’t serious about having sex because I was dead tired.

  “So what do I have to do, make an appointment?” There was levity in his voice, but it had a serious undertone to it.

  “Of course not, sweetheart.” I kissed him again. “Just give me a little while longer to get familiar with this case. Now that Tina’s been arraigned, things are really going to pick up speed.”

  Jefferson eyed me skeptically, then turned back to the TV.

  “I know you hate my working so hard all the time,” I said, “but I’m going to get my life under control. Soon.”

  He didn’t say anything for a while and neither did I. I snuggled up closer to him, but I felt his body stiffen.

  Jefferson stuck his spoon in the center of the ice cream container and set it on the coffee table. “How are we going to have kids when we never have time to work on making ‘em?” The
re was no anger in his voice, just concern.

  “It’s going to get better, I swear.” I pressed my head against his chest. “I just need your support through this trial. I swear I’ll make it up to you as soon as it’s over.”

  “So how do you plan to do that?”

  I reached down to scratch my left foot even though it didn’t itch. I was just stalling for time to come up with a suitable response to my husband’s question. “How about if I promise to make you a home-cooked meal every day for three weeks straight and give you a back massage every night for a week?”

  “We’ve got a deal,” he laughed. “Except my back ain’t exactly what I need massaged.”

  “Get your mind out of the gutter, boy.” We kissed in a slow, loving way that almost made me forget how tired I was.

  “By the way,” Jefferson said, coming up for air, “have you heard anything about those fertility tests? Shouldn’t the Doc have called us by now?”

  “Don’t forget she told us she was going on vacation,” I said. “That’s probably the only reason we haven’t heard anything. If there was a problem, I’m sure somebody from her office would’ve let us know.”

  I had not shared my concerns with Jefferson, but I was actually pretty nervous about the test results. Even if Dr. Bell was away on vacation, one of her assistants could’ve easily called to tell us everything was fine. Or that it wasn’t. In my mind, the fact that nobody had called meant that there was a major problem and they were waiting for Dr. Bell to come back and deliver the bad news.

  While I had tried to convince myself that my fears were unwarranted, I knew that the possibility that the IUD had damaged my body in some way was very real. I’d read news reports claiming that the IUD was a dangerous, defective product that left hundreds of women sterile. But what were the odds? One in ten thousand? One in a hundred thousand? Whatever they were, at the time I’d selected it as my method of birth control, statistical possibilities had not been much of a concern for me. That certainly wasn’t the case now.

  Jefferson was so psyched about becoming a father. If I couldn’t give him that, how would he handle it? How would I handle it?

  “Why don’t you go get out of your clothes and get to bed,” Jefferson said, assuming my closed eyes meant I was falling asleep.

  “Are you trying to get rid of me?” I mumbled into his chest

  “Never.”

  “I definitely feel whipped, but I like sitting here with you. We never get a chance to spend any quiet time together anymore.”

  “And whose fault is that?”

  “Mine,” I said quietly.

  He kissed me on the nose, then scooped me up from the couch, and carried me off to bed.

  CHAPTER 25

  The next morning, Neddy failed to show up for our ten o’clock meeting. Unlike me, she was like clockwork. We had planned to exchange our cross-examination outlines and give each other notes on any changes we thought needed to be made. By 10:30, she hadn’t even touched base with her secretary. I knew something was wrong.

  After repeatedly trying her cell phone, I called her home number for the second time. She picked up on the fourth ring.

  The weakness of her “hello” sent my pulse racing. I flung the anxiety from my voice before proceeding. “Hey, you standing me up?”

  It took her a long time to respond and when she did, her words were slow and measured as if she had a massive headache that intensified every time her lips moved. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t make it in this morning.”

  “You okay?”

  “Uh, no—not exactly,” she stuttered, offering no further explanation.

  The raspiness in her voice told me that she had been crying.

  “I had a visit from the police right after you left last night.” She exhaled long and hard. “Lawton’s dead.”

  I gasped unintentionally.

  “I’ve been crying most of the night and I have no idea why.” I heard her break into a quiet sob. “I’m really feeling pretty crazy right now.”

  “I’m on my way over,” I said.

  “No. You don’t need to. I’m fine.”

  “Yes, I do.” I hung up the phone before she could say another word.

  When Neddy opened her front door, I was not prepared to see her in such bad shape. She was wearing a faded bathrobe over a wrinkled T-shirt and dingy white shorts. Her hair was matted to her head and her eyes were nearly swollen shut from what I assumed had been hours of crying. She poured both of us a cup of coffee and we sat down on her living room couch.

  I wanted to ask how Lawton had died, but decided that for now, the fewer questions the better.

  “Can you believe I’m crying over that fool?” she said, shaking her head. “The last time I talked to him we had that ugly shouting match at his lawyer’s office. I should be thanking God he’s finally out of my life—for good. This is silly. I have no idea what I’m crying for.”

  I hugged her, which seemed to make her cry even more. After a few minutes, she composed herself and reached for her coffee.

  “I know you must think I’m nuts,” she said, obviously embarrassed.

  “I don’t think you’re nuts. You loved the man. You had his child. It’s perfectly normal for you to be upset about his death.”

  “Yeah,” she said sarcastically, “the same man who did nothing but betray me almost from the day I met him.”

  I thought another crying spell was about to start, but she seemed to will it away.

  “This is so crazy.” She stared into her coffee. “After all he put me through, I should be glad he’s dead.”

  Her words sounded harsh and she looked at me as if she wanted to take them back.

  “You’re not crazy. Love is crazy. We can’t always control our emotions. How did Lawton die?” I finally asked.

  “I guess he met his match. He was murdered.” An irony-filled smile touched her lips. “What’s that saying? What goes around, comes around?”

  “When did it happen?”

  “The housekeeper found his body yesterday at our house in Leimert Park, but they haven’t established the time of death yet.” She stopped to sip her coffee. “They think he may’ve been lying there on the floor with five bullets in his chest for several days.” She closed her eyes.

  I didn’t know what to say, so I waited for her lead.

  “I just know some woman killed him. He was such an asshole. But he obviously toyed with the wrong person.”

  “What makes you think a woman killed him?”

  “Had to be,” she said. “You don’t treat women the way Lawton did and not expect to pay for it sooner or later.”

  In watching Neddy, it struck me how different her grief was from Tina’s. Both women had been cruelly deceived by men they loved. During our initial meeting, Tina seemed to work hard at hiding her grief, as if it were unacceptable to show her pain. Neddy appeared unable to control hers, which made her deep anguish seem as odd as Tina’s lack of it.

  She stood up and walked over to open her sliding-glass doors, allowing a strong surge of ocean air to freshen the room. “I have to get past this,” she said, more to herself than to me. “The prelim’s in a few days.”

  “Don’t worry about that. I think we should request a continuance. And if the judge denies it, I can handle it by myself if I have to.” No I can’t. Why in the hell did I say that?

  She got up and walked into the kitchen. “It’s foolish for me to use the word love and Lawton in the same sentence, but I guess everything I’m feeling right now must mean I still loved him. Maybe that’s why I fought so hard during the divorce. Paying him alimony wasn’t going to break me financially. But emotionally, the whole ordeal was killing me.”

  “Like I said, love is crazy.”

  She refilled her coffee cup. Mine was still untouched. “It’s weird, but I think Lawton’s murder is going to help me do a better job of defending Tina.”

  “How so?”

  She waited a long time before answering. “I’m n
ot sure I can put it into words. I feel like I have an even better sense of what Tina’s going though now. I always felt like I understood the betrayal part. After all, her story is basically my story. But now I know firsthand what it’s like to have a man you love murdered. There’s something different about someone dying at the hands of another. Even a man you despised.”

  “I know you still don’t think Tina killed her husband, but I’m just not there yet.”

  Neddy stopped and took another sip of her coffee.

  “I can’t explain why, but I just don’t think she did it. But like I told you, I’ve been wrong before.”

  “Do the police have any suspects in Lawton’s murder?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. I didn’t ask.” She set her coffee cup down and retied her robe. “I only wish I could say I don’t care that he’s dead or whether they find his killer. But at the moment, I do.”

  CHAPTER 26

  The chore of planning Lawton’s funeral fell to Neddy despite their long, antagonistic estrangement. She decided to take a couple of days off, but only after O’Reilly basically banned her from the office. The court agreed to grant our motion to continue the preliminary hearing for a week.

  Julie, surprisingly, didn’t oppose our motion. She even provided us with a list of witnesses she planned to call at the prelim without us having to fight for it. She listed four names: the crime scene investigator and the coroner, whom we expected; Ernestine Frye, Max Montgomery’s personal assistant; and Oscar Lopez, a room service waiter at the Ritz-Carlton.

  While Neddy was busy making funeral arrangements, I asked Detective Smith, the investigator she had hired to do the background check on Max Montgomery, to accompany me to the Ritz-Carlton. I was hoping to interview Lopez. We found out that not only did he tell police that he saw a woman who resembled Tina outside Max’s hotel room the night of the murder, but that the woman supposedly had a knife in her hand. That was some pretty damaging evidence, and I wanted to hear it from the horse’s mouth.

  Detective Smith was a tall, well-built African American who had a cop’s walk, full of bravado, and a therapist’s demeanor. Perceptive and supportive. A black Dr. Phil.