"Yes and no, Your Honor," Preston said. "In discussions with Ms. Delgado, I was led to believe The People's case would extend until at least the end of the week. I have my witnesses on-call for next week. The Defense requests the trial be continued until Monday to begin their case."
"I'm not inclined to take a full day-off in the middle of trial" the judge said. "Do The People have any comments?"
Lorena Delgado stood. "Your Honor, The People agree with The Court the trial shouldn't be suspended until next week. However, we did imply to Mr. Vinnick our evidence should fill the week and possibly run into next week. For that reason, The People don't object to The Defense motion to start calling their witnesses next week. However, we see no reason Mr. Vinnick can't give his opening statement this afternoon."
The judge ordered the jury back into the courtroom and directly spoke to the jurors. "The People have rested their case and The Defense will now be presenting their case." He turned to Preston. "Mr. Vinnick. Please proceed."
"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen of the jury..." the experienced defense attorney started as he began a one-and-one-half hour skillfully crafted and emotional narrative. He introduced a concise theme that ran counter to the prosecution case and swiftly moved his client -- Nick Usher -- into a far different light from what the jury had seen during The People's case.
Preston wove analogies into the statement which humanized Nick and his tragic situation on the day Hank Jones tragically died. He had the jury's full attention the entire time and successfully touched each of them emotionally.
Lorena scratched a note onto her legal pad and pushed it to Jerrod. It read:
"Best Opening... Ever."
At four-o'clock, Judge Kohnke dismissed the jury until Monday morning.
CHAPTER 100
Thursday Afternoon
Jerrod pounded on the heavy exterior door at the County Morgue.
"What are you doing here?" Sergeant Ted Lindsey said as he cracked opened the door.
"I need to talk to you. Privately."
They walked into Dr. Torosian's cluttered office. "What's so important?" Ted asked.
"I need to talk to you about Brent's crash."
Ted slumped in a chair. "That was the most fucked up thing I've ever had to do. I really liked Brent. I don't need to relive it."
"I have some doubts about how the crash happened."
Ted looked at Jerrod. "I don't like where this is going."
"You were at the scene. You were at autopsy. You saw the CHP reports. I want to know what you think happened there."
Ted was silent for a few moments. "It was ruled accidental."
"I know the official version is the crash was an accident."
"Then it was an accident."
"Were there any skidmarks on the roadway? Was he wearing his seatbelt? Brent always wore his seatbelt when I was in a car with him."
Ted stood up. "I shouldn't be talking to you about this."
"Have a seat, Ted."
Ted slowly sat back down.
"You know Brent's wife left him in December," Jerrod said. "And she took the kids. And they had just filed the divorce papers. And the lieutenant pushed him out of the Nick Usher case. You should have seen Brent right before I left for Oklahoma... and heard him when I called from there. He didn't give a shit anymore. He told me he didn't give a shit about anything. He was on the edge--."
"Stop right there," Ted interrupted. "That all may be true, but it doesn't change anything. The death was ruled accidental. He ran his car off the road and hit a tree. Period. And it needs to stay that way."
"Did Doc know about Brent's mental state... all the crap going on in his life before the crash."
"Probably not. I didn't even know most of what you just told me."
Jerrod leaned toward Ted. "Think it would have been important for him to know those things?"
"I don't know. Probably."
"Ted. We talked in this very room over five years ago when you suggested I apply for a job here at the SO. I was in a very bad place at that time and going down quick. I was right where Brent was before he died. That conversation we had... the move I made...may have, literally, saved my life. I owe you."
"Good. Then pay me back by letting go of this little... crusade... you're on."
"I need you to be honest with me. Right here and right now."
Ted leaned forward and stared at the ground. "Jerrod. Listen to me. You don't want to do this. He will..." He caught himself, scoffed, and shook his head.
"Who will? Sullivan?"
"Never mind." Ted puckered his lips and started chewing at the inside of his cheek.
Jerrod watched his odd mannerism. He thought back to Ted's poker game bluff and the now-obvious "tell" he showed when he made his all-in bet and took down the key pot of the night. Ted was feeling the pressure and his body language defied his words.
Ted peered up. "Are you looking into my soul now?"
"Yes." Jerrod spoke in nearly a whisper. "Remember the poker game when I made that weak bet and you came over-the-top with the big bluff. I folded the best hand and you won."
"What's that got to do with this?"
"You showed a 'tell' that night, and you're showing it again, right now."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Your name will never come up over what we talk about today... to anyone... ever. I hope you can trust me with that."
"I know I can trust you."
"I need to know if the decision to rule Brent's death an accident was made by Sullivan... at the scene... regardless of any other factors."
Ted stared back at the floor. He stopped chewing at his cheek and, without looking up, subtly nodded his head.
Jerrod reached out and placed his hand on Ted's shoulder. "That's all I needed to know."
CHAPTER 101
Friday Morning Meeting
"I will be taking next Monday and Tuesday off,” Lieutenant Mitchell Sullivan announced. “I'm playing a few rounds of golf with my father at some private courses near Monterey. Sergeant Regner will command Investigations in my absence."
Jerrod thought: That'll be perfect.
* * *
"This is Bruce Witt," the voice answering the phone said.
"It's Jerrod. Call on Monday morning at eight-thirty."
"Okay."
CHAPTER 102
Monday Morning Meeting
Sergeant Darrell Regner sat at the lieutenant's desk.
Jerrod sat in his usual seat and thumbed through the daily stack of property crime reports. He had brought with him a beige clasp envelope. Handwritten on the envelope in blue Sharpie was: "For Sgt. Gold: Confidential."
The meeting was brief and it broke up at eight-ten. Jerrod stayed in his seat as the others filed out.
"Close the door, please," Jerrod said to Nate Boxley -- the last of the group to leave. Nate nodded and closed the door behind him.
"What do you want?" Regner asked.
Jerrod picked up the envelope and showed Regner the front of it. "I found this on my desk when I got to the office this morning. I don't want anything to do with it."
"What is it?" Regner asked.
"Do you know who Bruce Witt is? He's a freelance video guy--"
"I know who Witt is," Regner interrupted.
Jerrod tilted the envelope and poured a black VHS tape with a typewritten note onto the table. "This is from Bruce. The note says he has evidence Brent Rozman's death wasn't an accident and he drove his car into that tree on purpose. He handed the note to Regner. "He's making some serious allegations here."
"We know that's not what happened," Regner said as he started reading the note.
"You may know it," Jerrod said. "But I've always suspected Brent killed himself. I talked to the lieutenant last week about my suspicions. He wasn't very happy about what I had to say."
Regner finished reading the note. "Witt says he's writing an article for the newspaper about the crash and 'the cover-up by m
embers of the Mesa County Sheriff's Office.'" Regner looked up. "Why the hell did he send this to you?"
"I don't know, but I'm not going to talk to him. I've known him since I worked in Valle Verde. He used to work the crime beat for the Sun and was in the PD every day. I've seen him taking video at a few crime scenes."
"What's on the tape?" Regner asked.
Jerrod handed the tape and envelope to Regner. "I have no idea... and I really don't need to know. You're in-charge today. You know more about Brent's crash than anyone. I'm just pushing this... situation... up the chain-of-command. Handle it as you see fit." Jerrod stood to leave. "Watch the tape or throw it in the trash. I don't care."
"Let's see what's on the tape," Regner said.
Jerrod stood up. "I really need to get ready for court. The Defense starts their case today and Nick Usher may take the stand--."
"Let's watch the fucking tape."
"Alright," Jerrod said as he sat down. He glanced across the table to the chair Brent once used and the upside down Oakland A's coffee cup on the table in front of it.
Regner placed the tape in the VCR and pushed the "play" button.
Jerrod watched Regner as he watched the monitor. The video showed the crash scene, the firefighters, and CHP. It captured Regner's confrontation with Bruce, as well as Mitchell Sullivan and Ted Lindsey arriving at the scene.
"There's nothing there," Regner said.
"Doesn't look like it," Jerrod said. "The note said something about listening to the end of the tape. I really need to get going. Judge Kohnke likes to start on time--"
"Let's finish the tape."
"Okay."
The view on the monitor showed the side of a CHP car, the sound of a cell phone ringing, and settled with a view of the ground. Voices got louder on the tape.
"Is that your voice?" Jerrod asked.
"Yeah... and the lieutenant," he said without looking away from the monitor.
Jerrod watched Regner's expression change and his jaw slackened as he listened to the two crystal-clear male voices having a conversation:
"I can't believe he did this," Sullivan was heard saying. "Brent came to me today. He just... became unwrapped in my office. He was out of his mind. I sent him home to cool off."
"How do you want to handle this?" Regner was heard asking.
The lieutenant replied: "This has to be ruled an accident--"
Regner jumped up from his chair and stopped the tape. He opened the VCR, took the tape out, and stared at it.
"Holy shit," Jerrod said. "I didn't need to hear that. I knew I was right, but if Witt publishes that article...."
Regner didn't respond as he sat back down in the chair.
"I gotta go," Jerrod said as he stood up again.
"Sit down."
"I can keep my mouth shut," Jerrod said.
"Stop talking," Regner said. "I'm thinking."
There was a quiet knock on the door and Linda peeked in.
"Sergeant Regner," she said. "There's a man on hold for you. His name is Bruce Witt. He says he's writing an article about Brent Rozman's death and he wants your comments."
Regner paused, mouth open, and looked at Jerrod. "Uh... take a number, please. I'll call him back later."
"No problem" she said. She glanced at Jerrod as she closed the door.
"You can't talk to him," Jerrod said. "I don't know what else you and the lieutenant talked about on the tape... and I don't want to know. But it's going to blow-up the official version of the crash. The family... the funeral... the flag... Sheriff Osborn."
"Sheriff Osborn," Regner repeated. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuuuuuck."
"You're going to handle this as you see fit," Jerrod said. "And I'll help you however I can--"
"Why would you help me?" Regner interrupted.
"Good question," Jerrod said. "And I'll be honest -- it's no secret I don't like you. I think you're an ass-kissing prick. But you're in a really bad spot. If Sullivan ordered you to... never mind... I need to get some distance from this."
Regner stared at the video tape on the lieutenant's bare desk.
"You've been here with the SO longer than me," Jerrod said. "So you probably know this already."
"What's that?"
"About Sheriff Osborn," Jerrod said. "I was told by my FTO on my very first day to just take responsibility for my actions and never try to cover things up. I was told the sheriff has no mercy for anyone who lies to him."
"What would you do?" Regner asked.
"I can tell you what I'm going to do. I'll keep quiet about this... for now." He picked up the manila envelope. "My name's on this thing. So I'll get asked what I know... what I just heard on that tape. I'm not going to end my career to cover for anyone... especially you or Sullivan."
Regner continued staring at the tape.
"If I were you," Jerrod suggested. "I'd get ahead of the article and talk to the sheriff before Bruce Witt calls him for comment. I'd tell him the whole story and hope for some type of forgiveness."
Regner nodded subtly.
"This is going to be devastating," Jerrod said. "If Brent committed suicide, then it might not be considered an on-duty death. This is real bad."
"This is way worse than 'bad,'" Regner mumbled. "I don't know what to do. I should talk to Sullivan."
Jerrod stood, handed Regner the envelope, and collected the property crime reports off the table. "Personally, I'd try to save myself. But I'm sure you'll end up doing the right thing."
CHAPTER 103
Monday Morning -- Mesa County Superior Court
"Is The Defense ready to present their case?" Judge Kohnke said.
Preston Vinnick stood. "We are, Your Honor. The Defense calls as their first witness -- Nicholas Usher."
Jerrod watched the jury as Nick Usher stood and strolled past them to the witness stand. He stood erect with his shoulders back and exuded confidence. He made a subtle nod to the jurors. None nodded back.
As Usher was sworn-in, Jerrod glanced at his watch. It was nine-thirty-five.
"State your name," Judge Kohnke directed.
"Nicholas Joesph Usher."
"The Defense may proceed," the judge said.
For the next hour-and-ten minutes, in a slow, methodical manner, Preston Vinnick and Nick Usher wove an intricate and sympathetic and believable story to the jury of a man -- down on his luck, unemployed and unemployable, family-less, car-less, depressed, hungry, and addicted to cocaine -- who stopped by Hank Jones' trailer just looking for work and left in a panic after a terrible accident.
"What did you do once you were invited into the trailer?" Preston asked -- the question itself giving jury information. "At what point did Mr. Jones offer you a cup of coffee?" "When did Mr. Jones become angry?" "What happened when Mr. Jones picked up the torque wrench?" "How did you feel during the struggle with Mr. Jones?" "Why did you take the TV and VCR?" "Why did you sell Mr. Jones' car?"
Jerrod watched the jury during the testimony. In their special role as "trier-of-fact" -- the jurors become human polygraphs. While they listened to the questions and answers; they were simultaneously evaluating Nick Usher's testimony. They used all of their varied life experiences to judge for themselves his truthfulness and the weight of what he had to say.
Nick Usher calmly answered the questions in a somber and remorseful voice. The version of events presented by The Defense was scoring points. His chin quivered a few times, but the "11" between his eyebrows never appeared.
"I have no further questions of this witness," Preston said.
"This is a good time for the morning break," Judge Kohnke announced. We will resume in...," he glanced at the courtroom clock, "fifteen minutes. Eleven o'clock.
Jerrod continued watching the jury as Nick Usher left the witness stand. Nick nodded to them again and several nodded back.
"Reasonable doubt" had clearly been established for the jury to consider.
The courtroom cleared. Jerrod and Lorena lagged behind and found themselves al
one at the prosecution table in an empty room.
"Ready for this?" Jerrod asked. "They painted a pretty good picture."
Lorena paused as she made a few notes on her legal pad. She looked at Jerrod and asked facetiously: "Did I ever mention to you that I just love cross-examination?"
"Do The People wish to cross-examine?" the judge asked Lorena once the jury was seated and court called back to order.
"We do, Your Honor," ADA Lorena Delgado said. She walked to the podium and placed her pad on it's surface.
"Good morning, Mr. Usher," she said.
"Good morning, ma'am," he replied.
"You understand you are still under oath. Is that correct?" she asked.
"Yes, ma'am. I do."
"You were present in this courtroom during The People's case?" she asked.
"Yes."
"You heard all the testimony and have seen all the exhibits?"
"Yes."
"That was some interesting tale you came up with this morning," she said.
Preston jumped to his feet, "Objection. Not in the form of a question."
"Sustained." Judge Kohnke said.
"Let's go over your... testimony... under direct-examination. Shall we?" she asked.
"Sure."
"You have told this jury..." she started as she retraced -- point-by-point -- the defense version surrounding the death of Hank Jones.
Instead of picking apart the carefully crafted tale in a sequential manner -- she used no time-line. Like a very skilled and experienced boxer in the ring, Lorena danced and jabbed and moved and countered and jabbed again. She bounced from area to area. Jab and move. Left then right. Move and jab. Right then left. Jab and move.
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