Insider Justice: A Financial Thriller (Marc Kadella Legal Mysteries Book 8)

by Dennis Carstens

  “Her purse in her desk?”

  “Yes.”

  “She then went to the breakroom and poured herself a cup of coffee…”

  “Objection, is there a point to this?” Krain knew there was but wanted to interrupt it.

  “Timeline, your Honor,” Marc said.

  “Overruled.”

  “I don’t know if she got a cup of coffee,” Hunt interjected.

  “We’ll prove that she did,” Marc said. “She got a cup of coffee and went back to her desk. By now, it must be getting very close to six-fifteen,” Marc said.

  “And then, even though your thorough investigation missed it, she drank more than a half cup of coffee, then went in and murdered her boss. Is that what happened?”

  “Okay,” Hunt shrugged. “She did it closer to six-thirty than five-thirty. So what? She still did it.”

  “Because your investigation was so thorough,” Marc replied, “is it possible someone drugged her and that’s why she was found unconscious?”

  “There’s no evidence…”

  “That someone else was there waiting for her and Brody Knutson was already dead? That he was murdered closer to five-thirty than six-thirty?”

  “There’s no evidence…”

  “Because your investigation was so thorough,” Marc replied with a touch of sarcasm.

  “Objection, argumentative,” Krain said.

  “Sustained. Scale it back, Mr. Kadella.”

  “Plus assumes facts not in evidence and goes beyond the scope of the direct examination,” Krain added.

  Williams quickly held up a hand, palm out, toward Marc to stop him from responding. The judge thought for a moment before ruling.

  “I’ll overrule both objections. This is within the scope of direct in that it pertains to the detective’s investigation. But,” he looked seriously at Marc and said, “I want something on this claim about her being drugged.”

  “Yes, your Honor,” Marc replied.

  This answer caused Hunt to glance back and forth between Krain and Marc. Clearly, he was looking for help.

  With the pause that this exchange caused, Krain stood again and asked for a break. The judge looked at Marc and asked him if he had much more. Knowing Krain was trying to get his cop off of the stand to regroup, Marc told the judge he was almost done.

  Marc whispered to Jeff and a new photo appeared on the TV sets. It was a photo of a cup of coffee with two inches of coffee in it. It had a small ruler in it to show the exact depth.

  “Your Honor,” Krain stood and wearily said, “his obsession with coffee is growing tiresome. Somewhere along the line, there needs to be some relevance to this.”

  “Mr. Kadella?” Judge Williams said.

  Marc stood and said, “I think he knows exactly where I’m going and he doesn’t want me to get there. Before I’m done, I’ll connect to the relevance, your Honor.”

  “I’m going to hold you to that. You may continue.”

  Marc asked for and received permission to stand next to the TV closest to the witness. He held a collapsible, aluminum pointer in his hand. He used it to point at the cup in the photo. For the record, he verbally explained what was on the TV and what he was doing.

  “One of my office assistants, at my request, conducted a little experiment for me. She is also the one who took the photos and will testify if necessary.”

  “In this photo, Detective Hunt, is a cup of fresh coffee. The cup is marked with the letter A and also has a ruler in it. You can see the depth is two inches. Would you agree?”

  “Yes,” Hunt said.

  A new photo appeared side-by-side with the previous one. It was the same cup with the same ruler in it.

  “This is the same cup twelve hours later. You’ll notice the depth of the coffee is more than a quarter of an inch lower. Would you agree, Detective Hunt?”

  “I guess,” he replied.

  Using the pointer, Marc pointed out a ring around the inside of the cup. It was a ring of coffee where the depth had been when it was first filled. The difference was overnight evaporation. A couple of quick questions for the record verified this.

  Marc then went through the same procedure twice more with cups marked B and C. The results were the same; a drop in the level of liquid leaving a ring around the cup where the level had originally been when the cup was filled with fresh coffee.

  Another photo appeared. It was Brooke Hartley’s desk. On it was a coffee cup with some coffee in it.

  “Do you recognize this photo?”

  “Um, I’m not sure,” Hunt meekly replied.

  The photo changed, but now Gabe Hunt was standing next to Brooke’s desk. He appeared to be staring down at it.

  “Recognize it now?” Marc asked.

  “Sure, it’s her desk at work,” Hunt answered.

  A new photo appeared. This was the same photo only it was a blown-up close-up of the coffee cup on the blotter on the desktop.

  “These last three photos are ones taken by the police crime scene techs. They were provided to the defense through discovery. This one,” Marc said tapping the TV screen, “is a close-up of the coffee cup that was on Brooke Hartley’s desk while you were doing your thorough investigation on the morning of the murder. Tell the court, Detective, if there is a ring around the inside of this cup from overnight evaporation?”

  “No, there is not,” he answered.

  “Would you conclude from that the coffee in this cup was poured into it that same morning?”

  “Yes, I suppose,” Hunt hesitantly said.

  The last photo in this sequence appeared. It was a shot of the break room taken from its doorway.

  “Do you recognize this photo?”

  “Looks like the breakroom,” Hunt answered.

  “It’s a photo of the break room in Brody Knutson office suite, you’re correct. What is this?” Marc asked pointing at an object in the photo.

  “A coffee pot,” Hunt said.

  “An empty coffee pot,” Marc corrected him.

  “Yes, it’s empty.”

  “It’s not only empty, but it is obvious someone rinsed it out, isn’t it?” Marc asked.

  “Probably Lucy Gibson rinsed it out,” Hunt blurted out without thinking.

  “Did Ms. Hartley tell you she had no memory of that morning?”

  “Yes, she did.”

  “But you believed she was lying, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, I did,” Hunt admitted.

  “And your thorough investigation gave you no reason to believe differently, didn’t it?”

  “Objection!”

  “Sustained.”

  “I have nothing further, your Honor,” Marc said.

  “Your Honor, he was supposed to connect this to some relevance…” Krain jumped up and shouted out.

  “Oh, I suspect he will,” Williams said. “At least he is entitled to try. We’ll take a break for lunch.”

  Two minutes after the break was ordered, Aidan Walsh received a phone call from a spectator. He listened to a report of the morning’s testimony then went to tell Cal Simpson. Brooke’s lawyer was scoring points.

  FIFTY-TWO

  Marc re-entered the courtroom through the door behind the bench. He was followed by Gerald Krain wearing his normal scowl and the young man doing second chair duty for Krain. Marc took his seat next to Brooke and fiddled with the items on the table in front of him.

  “What do you guys talk about back there?” Brooke asked, referring to the conferences lawyers have in the judge’s chambers.

  “Who’s going to win and who’s going to lose,” Marc replied.

  “Really? Are we going to win? Has he decided?” Brooke excitedly asked.

  Marc laughed then said, “I’m kidding. The judge wanted to make sure they were going to finish up this afternoon. He doesn’t want to drag this out for a third day.”

  “Are they going to finish?”

  “Yeah, they only have three more witnesses,” Marc said.

  Ther
e was a moment of silence between them until Marc said, “Now that I think about it, sometimes we do decide who’s going to win and who’s going to lose. A lot of the time it will depend on what the judge will allow into evidence.”

  “That doesn’t seem fair,” Brooke said.

  “Fair? What’s fair got to do with it? I’m not even sure what that word really means. Usually, it means if something is good for me it’s fair. But if it is good for you and bad for me, then it’s unfair. It’s a silly word for politicians to use to sucker idiots into voting for them.

  “Here we go,” Marc said as the judge and his clerk came out.

  When everyone was settled back in their seats, Krain called his next witness. One of the two crime scene techs, John Barnes, was led into the courtroom.

  “State your name and current occupation for the record,” the judge’s clerk said.

  Krain started out by eliciting information from the witness about his expertise as a crime scene technician. Halfway through it, Judge Williams interrupted Krain.

  “Mr. Krain, I am very familiar with Mr. Barnes’ qualifications. Mr. Kadella,” he continued, looking at Marc, “would you be willing to stipulate to the witness’s expertise, in the interest of moving things along?”

  “Certainly, your Honor,” Marc agreed although he did not really want to. He was hoping the judge would become bored and not pay close attention.

  Annoyed by the interruption, Krain skipped over the rest of his prepared questioning about his witness’s qualifications. Instead, he went right into the process and details the crime scene techs used to process Knutson’s office. Being a veteran with over ten years of experience, and having been thoroughly prepped by Krain, Barnes handled it with skill and aplomb. The man knew exactly what was expected and he did not miss a beat.

  “When you finished your exam of the victim’s office and your analysis of the samples you took from it, were you able to reach a definite conclusion as to a third person being in Brody Knutson’s office that morning?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “And what was your conclusion?”

  “We found evidence of only two people. The deceased and the defendant,” Barnes replied.

  “What about the other areas of the victim’s office? The break room and the work area where his assistants were located?”

  “We found a lot of evidence of a number of people in both areas. Hair and fiber samples, fingerprints…”

  “Objection, the witness has not been qualified as a fingerprint expert.”

  “Are you a fingerprint expert?” Judge Williams asked Barnes.

  “It is not my particular area of expertise, your Honor,” Barnes admitted.

  “The objection is sustained. Don’t try testifying about fingerprints.”

  “Were you able to identify the people whose samples, hair and fiber samples were found in the outer offices?”

  “Yes, we were. They mostly belonged to Lucy Gibson and the defendant, Brooke Hartley. There were also several from other employees of the law firm, staff, and lawyers.”

  “But none inside the victim’s private office?”

  “No, only the victim and defendant,” Barnes agreed.

  “Tell me about the blood spatter.”

  “There wasn’t much. Just a short burst of blood from the one stab wound. Mr. Knutson was stabbed once directly in the heart and went down. It caused the one short burst of blood before he hit the floor,” Barnes said.

  At that point, a photograph appeared on the TV monitors. It was a picture of Knutson’s feet and blood on the carpeting just a few inches from his feet.

  “There is a photograph on the TV monitor. Do you recognize it?”

  “Yes, it is a photo I took of the blood spatter from the single wound.”

  “Was the victim’s blood on the defendant?”

  “No, it was not. We obtained the clothing she was wearing, analyzed all of it and found no blood on her.”

  “Isn’t this odd?”

  “It’s not typical, but it is not unusual either. As I said, the victim had only one stab wound directly into his heart. He went down and was dead within seconds.”

  Marc considered objecting since this witness was not qualified to testify as to how long Knutson lived. Having read the autopsy report, Marc knew the medical examiner was going to say this anyway, so he let it go.

  “Plus, she was punched by the…”

  “Objection, your Honor,” Marc said only this time he was out of his chair. “This witness has no knowledge about any punch being thrown at Ms. Hartley if, in fact, it happened at all or by whom.”

  “How do you know she was punched?” Judge Williams asked.

  “Well, um, Detective Hunt told me,” Barnes muttered.

  “Sustained,” Williams ruled. “Come up here,” he told the lawyers.

  When they arrived at the bench, he hit the white noise machine to cover their discussion.

  “Do you have any evidence that she was in fact punched and by whom?” Williams asked Jerry Krain.

  “She was found unconscious with a bruise on the side of her face, Judge. It was obvious…”

  “Who did it?”

  “Since there is no evidence anyone else was in that room, a jury can infer that Knutson must have done it when she stabbed him,” Krain said.

  Williams thought this over for a moment then said, “I’ll take it under advisement for now. Let’s go.”

  “I have no further questions for this witness, your Honor,” Krain announced when he got back to his table.

  “Very well. Mr. Kadella?” Williams said.

  Before Marc could begin questioning the witness, Brooke leaned over and whispered, “He didn’t deal with the coffee on my desk.”

  “I know,” Marc whispered back.

  “Mr. Barnes, was there any sign of a struggle in the inner office of Brody Knutson?” Marc started his cross-examination by asking.

  “Well, yes. There was a dead body lying on the floor with a letter opener sticking out of his chest and he was covered in blood.”

  When the laughter died down, Marc smiled, nodded his head and said, “I asked for that. I’ll try it again. Other than the body of Brody Knutson, were there signs of a struggle such as you would find if two people were fighting?”

  “No, not really.”

  “In fact, the room was neat and clean, was it not?”

  “Yes, it was,” Barnes admitted.

  Marc whispered the words ‘coffee cup’ to Jeff before the next question. Jeff clicked his laptop and the picture of the coffee cup on Brooke’s desk went up on the monitors.

  “On the television monitor is a photo you took of my client’s desk, do you recognize it?”

  “Yes, certainly.”

  “You did not send the coffee in the cup to a lab for analysis, did you?”

  “No, we did not.”

  “Wouldn’t it be standard procedure to do that?”

  “Well, um, normally, I suppose,” Barnes answered while nervously looking at Detective Hunt, still seated behind the prosecutor’s table.

  Noticing this, Marc decided to take a chance.

  “Isn’t it true you didn’t bother to do this because Detective Hunt had told you that Ms. Hartley was guilty?”

  “Objection, hearsay,” Krain quickly said.

  “Overruled, I’ll allow it.”

  “Um, I, ah,” Barnes stuttered.

  “You’re under oath, Mr. Barnes.”

  “Answer the question,” Judge Williams told him.

  “Yes, he had told us that it was obvious she was the only one who could have done it.”

  Marc glanced over at Hunt who was staring straight ahead trying to look impassive. As if this was the most normal thing to have done.

  Marc stopped at this point and paused. He was going to ask another question about what other things the techs failed to do because of what Hunt said. Instead, he decided he got what he wanted; time to move on.

  “Were you aware th
at Ms. Hartley had no memory of the events of that morning?”

  “Yes, Detective Hunt told us that, but…” Barnes answered then stopped himself.

  “But he said she was lying, didn’t he?”

  “Yes,” Barnes reluctantly replied.

  “Your testimony was that only Brody Knutson and Brooke Hartley had been in Knutson’s office where his body was found, is that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “Because you found no evidence of anyone else being in there that morning, true?”

  “Yes, that was our conclusion based on the evidence we obtained.”

  “Lucy Gibson was in there that same morning. She was the one who discovered Brody Knutson dead and Brooke Hartley unconscious. Isn’t it true that someone else could have been there and left no evidence as Lucy Gibson did?”

  Barnes sat silently for a full thirty seconds. What could he say? Of course, it was possible since Lucy Gibson had done it.

  “Yes, I suppose so,” Barnes quietly said.

  Marc looked over the notes in his trial book for a moment. He looked up at Judge Williams and said, “I have nothing further, your Honor.”

  “Redirect, Mr. Krain?”

  “Yes, your Honor. Is it unusual to find a dead body at a crime scene with no other significant signs of a struggle?”

  “No, it’s not unusual,” Barnes gladly answered. “In fact, it happens frequently.”

  “How long was Lucy Gibson in the inner office where the body was found?” Krain continued.

  “Objection. Lacks foundation and this witness was not there to time her. He couldn’t possibly know.”

  “Sustained,” Judge Williams ruled.

  “How long could someone be in a room and leave no evidence behind?”

  “Objection, speculation,” Marc said.

  “Do you have a scientific basis on which to answer that question as an expert?” Judge Williams asked Barnes.

  “Um, no, not really.”

  “Sustained. Move along, Mr. Krain.”

  Krain, obviously frustrated, thought it over for a moment, then ended his re-direct exam.

  Marc passed on any re-cross, and the judge called for a short break.

  FIFTY-THREE

  “Okay, Richie,” Aidan said into his phone. “Get back inside and call me later.”