Talon Winter Legal Thrillers Box Set

by Stephen Penner

  Luke sat up taller—as tall as he could handcuffed to the underside of a conference table. “You think we’re going to win?’

  Talon raised her palms at him. “I just think the trial has gone better for us than it could have. Putting you on the stand risks all of that.”

  Luke sighed. “Okay, good. I don’t want to testify. I want to tell them I didn’t do it, but I’m scared of the prosecutor, and I’m scared of what I might say, and I’m scared they won’t believe me. I’m… I’m just scared.”

  Talon hesitated, but then put a hand on Luke’s shoulder. “I know.”

  CHAPTER 50

  Five minutes later, everyone—except the jury—was reassembled in Judge Kirshner’s courtroom.

  “Have you made a decision about the defendant testifying?” the judge asked Talon.

  “Yes, Your Honor, “Talon answered. “Mr. Zlotnik will not be testifying. The defense rests.”

  Kirshner nodded and exhaled audibly. It was always a bit of a respite to reach the conclusion of evidence in a trial. It was all downhill from there. Just closing arguments and jury deliberations.

  Talon was tempted to argue for another night to prepare her closing argument. Cecilia was likely to agree, because she’d get that extra night of preparation, too. But it also meant another night with Curt on her couch.

  The mechanic had identified a hole in the brake lines where the fluid had leaked out, but he couldn’t say it was intentional sabotage. Maybe she drove over a sewing needle or something. They hadn’t come for her again, and maybe it was all just a coincidence—a terrifying, life-threatening coincidence—but Talon wasn’t about to put her chips on that square. It was time to end the case.

  “I’ll be ready this afternoon,” Talon confirmed. She had to be.

  That meant a morning of honing her already half-prepared remarks. A light lunch, enough to sate her hunger but not so much to make her sleepy or risk her already half-anxious stomach reacting badly at the worst possible time. And a quick check-in with her already half-terrified client.

  “We’re almost done,” Talon encouraged him. Fortunately, the jail was connected to the courthouse. She didn’t waste too much time walking next door to meet with him. But she still made sure to finish her closing first. He might need some words of encouragement, but he needed the words in her closing argument even more. “How are you holding up?”

  Luke shrugged. It was almost his default reaction. But spending 24 hours a day with someone else in control of your body and your fate could have that effect on a person. “I’m glad we’re almost done. But I’m kinda scared too.”

  “Because sometimes the end can be bad,” Talon knew. “But I’ve done everything I could to avoid that outcome.”

  “Sure,” Luke acknowledged. “But it might not matter. Right?”

  Talon frowned. She wanted to tell him everything would be alright. That the jury would see the truth. That justice would prevail. But she knew the truth. “Right.”

  * * *

  Everyone assembled in Judge Kirshner’s courtroom at 1:00 p.m. The gallery was completely full. All the witnesses who had been prohibited by court rule from watching other witnesses testify were allowed to return for the closing arguments. Officer McCarthy’s widow was in the front row, right behind Cecilia’s table—and next to Officer Dickerson. Luke’s parents were in the front row on Talon’s side, along with everyone who had spilled into her office that morning so long ago. The Maldonados sat behind them, next to their lawyer, Greg Olsen. Curt was on the other side of Olsen. Further in the back was Craig Donaldson, Cecilia’s boss, along with a cadre of junior prosecutors and newbie defense attorneys, taking a break from their busy day to watch a couple of heavy hitters slug it out in the last round. And a single ‘pool’ news camera in the back for the dozen reporters covering the case. It was a cop-killer case, after all.

  “Shit,” Luke breathed as he sat down next to Talon and surveyed the room. “It’s packed.”

  Talon just nodded. She was nervous enough about doing the best possible job. She didn’t need a reminder of the hundred eyes watching her. She couldn’t exactly ignore it either. Especially when Luke turned around and waved at his parents.

  “Eyes front,” barked the corrections officer still standing directly behind him. With that kind of crowd, the guards were going to stay within arm’s reach of the defendant, even if it kind of gave away that whole ‘held in custody pending the outcome of the trial’ thing.

  Luke faced forward again and sighed. “I really don’t want to spend the rest of my life not being allowed to say hi to my own parents.”

  Talon nodded and placed her hand on his, but didn’t say anything.

  A glance to the side confirmed Cecilia was already in her own zone. She had all of her notes and materials placed out in front of her, in perfectly aligned stacks, each an inch apart, and a blank legal pad in front of her, pen laying atop it at the ready.

  The prosecutor always went first. So, while Talon’s closing needed to have enough flexibility to respond to any of Cecilia’s arguments she hadn’t already anticipated, Cecilia’s closing argument was more of a prepared speech. She got to write on the blank slate first.

  Well, second actually. Judge Kirshner got to talk first. She drew the boundaries of the slate.

  Everyone knew to stand up when the judge entered the room, even without the bailiff’s command to do so. Kirshner took her seat on the bench and instructed everyone to sit down. This was it, the end, and with it came the increased formality of any ritual. Judge Kirshner confirmed both sides were ready—they were—then had the bailiff bring the jury into the room. Once they were seated, she began her portion of the closing argument ceremony.

  The prosecutor would argue the evidence presented in court proved beyond a reasonable doubt the defendant violated the law. The defense attorney would argue the evidence was insufficient to prove a violation of the law. But first, the judge had to tell the jury what the law was.

  “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,” Judge Kirshner began, as her bailiff began handing out paper packets to the jurors. “In a moment, you will hear the closing arguments of the lawyers, but before that, I will instruct you on the law.”

  The jury instructions were over thirty pages long. And Kirshner was going to read every word of them out loud in open court. In the old days, the jurors didn’t get copies, so they really had to pay attention—or they were supposed to. Until someone figured out, they really didn’t—or couldn’t. So now they get copies, and the attorneys could refer to them in their arguments.

  It would take Kirshner at least twenty minutes to read them all out. Talon and Cecilia both already knew what was in each instruction. They were standardized forms, approved by the State Supreme Court, upon recommendation from a committee of prosecutors and defense attorneys. In theory, a judge could give an instruction outside of the approved ones, but it usually meant a reversal on appeal. The standard forms were appeal-proof, so they were the ones always used. Talon knew them by heart. She only half listened, as she went over her planned remarks one more time, but a few of the more salient instructions interrupted her concentration.

  “It is your duty to decide the facts in this case based upon the evidence presented to you during this trial. It is also your duty to accept the law from my instructions, regardless of what you personally believe the law is or what you personally think it should be. You must apply the law from my instructions to the facts that you decide have been proved, and in this way decide the case.”

  “A defendant is presumed innocent. This presumption continues throughout the entire trial unless during your deliberations you find it has been overcome by the evidence beyond a reasonable doubt.”

  “A person commits the crime of murder in the first degree when he or she or an accomplice commits or attempts to commit the crime of robbery and in the course of or in furtherance of such crime or in immediate flight from such crime he or she or another participant in the crime causes the de
ath of a person other than one of the participants.”

  “It is an aggravating circumstance that the crime was committed against a law enforcement officer who was performing his or her official duties at the time of the crime.”

  “If you find from the evidence that each of the elements of the crime has been proved beyond a reasonable doubt, then it will be your duty to return a verdict of guilty. On the other hand, if after weighing all of the evidence you have a reasonable doubt as to any one of these elements, then it will be your duty to return a verdict of not guilty.”

  “As jurors, you have a duty to discuss the case with one another and to deliberate in an effort to reach a unanimous verdict.”

  The instructions always ended with the same few sentences, and when Judge Kirshner finally got to the words that both Talon and Cecilia knew signaled the end of the reading of the instructions, Talon looked up from her notes. It was ‘go’ time.

  “Because this is a criminal case,” Kirshner concluded, “each of you must agree for you to return a verdict. When all of you have so agreed, fill in the verdict form to express your decision. The presiding juror must sign the verdict form and notify the bailiff. The bailiff will bring you into court to declare your verdict.”

  She set the packet aside and looked directly at the jurors again. “Now, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, please give your attention to Ms. Thompson who will deliver the closing argument on behalf of the State.”

  CHAPTER 51

  Cecilia stood up slowly and stepped out from behind the prosecution table. She didn’t repeat the formal ‘May it please the Court’ or thank all of the participants. Instead she walked directly to the jury box, and Talon realized she’d only done that archaic introduction for her opening statement so it would be that much more powerful when she didn’t do it for her closing. They were both playing chess.

  “When a person shows you who they really are,” she began with the increasingly well-known saying, “believe them.”

  She turned and pointed at Luke.

  “When a person tells you what they did,” she said, “believe them.”

  Again facing the jury. “And when, in the hours immediately after the death of Officer Christopher McCarthy, the defendant gave a full confession to Detective Wolcott detailing that he knew his friend, Miguel, was going to rob the Cash-Town U.S.A. and he was going to wait outside as the getaway driver… believe him.”

  She stepped to the prosecution table and picked up her own copy of the jury instructions. “And when you believe him, then you convict him. Convict him of murder in the first degree. Murder in the first degree of an on-duty police officer. Because, ladies and gentlemen, that is exactly what he did, that’s what he said he did, and that’s what he’s guilty of.”

  She didn’t look at Luke again, but rather ignored him as she finally called him by name. “Luke Zlotnik is guilty of murder in the first degree with aggravating circumstances.”

  Talon nodded slightly to herself. She knew that would be the thrust of Cecilia’s presentation. Believe the confession. And why shouldn’t it be? If they did, Luke was done.

  “Now, I expect,” Cecilia said, “Ms. Winter will stand up after me and ask you to ignore the confession. She’ll talk about what their professional hired-gun witness claimed. She’ll say it was coerced and unreliable and her poor little client just didn’t know how much trouble he would be in when he confessed to being an accomplice to an armed robbery.”

  Talon could feel the jurors looking at her, but she kept her eyes focused on her notepad, pretending to be taking notes, calm and confident as anything. Like she didn’t even really need to listen to the prosecutor. But, of course, she did.

  “So,” Cecilia continued, “it’s important to look at all of the evidence together. This isn’t just a case where the defendant confessed to the crime—although we have that too. In addition, we have all of the other investigation and all of the other evidence which shows beyond any reasonable doubt that the defendant is guilty of murder.”

  Cecilia began a slow pace as she counted off the evidence on her fingers. “To begin with, we have the evidence that this was, in fact, an armed robbery. A very dangerous situation where anything can happen and people can get hurt, even killed. You know that now. And Miguel Maldonado and Luke Zlotnik should have known that, too, before they put the lives of every Cash-Town U.S.A. employee, every responding officer, and yes, even of themselves, in very deal danger. So real, in fact, that two people lost their lives that day.”

  Cecilia nodded to Emily McCarthy, a tight frown pulled across her mouth. But she didn’t give a nod to the Maldonados, seated right behind the Zlotniks on the other side of the gallery.

  “It’s worth mentioning at this point,” Cecilia stopped walking and gestured to the jury with an open, thoughtful hand, “that this is why you can be convicted of murder for something unplanned that happens during the crime you did plan. You can be, and should be, held responsible for the foreseeable consequences of your acts. The legislature agrees and that’s why it’s a crime if someone dies while you’re committing a felony. It only makes sense.”

  To cops and prosecutors, maybe, Talon thought. But not to average citizens whose children were facing life in prison for things other people did. And, Talon hoped, not to the jurors either. Or at least to some of them. She scanned their faces to see if anyone wore a skeptical expression, but they all just seemed interested, attentive, engaged. Damn.

  Cecilia returned to her thoughtful, finger-ticking stroll. “Next, we have the absolutely incontrovertible fact that someone did die. Two people died, in fact. But, while the death of anyone is a tragedy, and Luke Zlotnik will spend the rest of his life knowing he contributed to the death of his friend, the death of Miguel Maldonado is not murder. Not legally anyway. Because the law doesn’t just define crimes. It’s also designed to protect the public. If a person, like Miguel Maldonado, attempts to commit armed robbery and is shot and killed by officers during that attempt, that isn’t murder. That’s just the risk that comes with attempting something so inherently dangerous. That’s why the law excludes the deaths of other participants in the crime. Miguel was a participant in the crime. His death was not murder.

  “But,” Cecilia stopped walking and pointed a finger at the sky, “the death of a law enforcement officer responding to that inherently dangerous armed robbery? The death of Tacoma Police Officer Christopher McCarthy? That is a crime. That is murder.”

  Another respectful nod to Emily McCarthy—just in case anyone could possibly have forgotten her, seated in the front row, dressed all in black.

  “And it doesn’t matter one bit who pulled the trigger,” Cecilia asserted.

  She threw a quick glance at Talon. “The defense attorney may spend some time talking about who ‘really’ shot Officer McCarthy. She may go on and on about how it was Officer Dickerson who actually pulled the trigger. And that’s fine. Let her. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter one whit.”

  One whit? Talon frowned at the word. Who still says ‘whit’? An uptight prosecutor defending one cop from shooting another cop, she supposed.

  “Again, the reason this is a crime,” Cecilia continued, “the reason this is murder, is that the defendant created the situation which enabled the death to happen. The defendant planned and assisted an armed robbery. If it had been successful, you can be sure he would have wanted his share of the money. But it wasn’t successful, and he deserves his share of the blame. His share of the consequences.”

  Cecilia had made her way back to the center of the jury box. She stopped and squared her shoulders at them again.

  “So, now let’s talk about the defendant’s confession,” she said. “It is important evidence. It might even be the most important single piece of evidence in the case. But,” another finger to the sky, “it’s not that important. It’s not necessary. This case stands on its own even without it.”

  Talon couldn’t stop from frowning. This was a good road for Cecilia t
o go down, Talon knew. And Talon might not be able to bring all of the jurors back up it.

  Then again, Talon only needed one of the jurors to refuse to convict, and she’d at least get a hung jury—and a new trial. Cecilia needed all twelve to be unanimous. Talon could afford a stray juror stuck down at the end of Confession Doesn’t Matter Road.

  “Imagine this case without the confession,” Cecilia invited the jurors. “The defendant drives his friend to the Cash-Town U.S.A. His texts show they planned it in advance. The defendant parks a couple of stores down. His friend goes inside, probably armed. The defendant waits outside, engine running. Police respond and block his car in. His friend makes a sudden furtive movement and officers are forced to fire. His friend dies. The police find the defendant still sitting in his car, still waiting for his friend who just died trying to commit an armed robbery. That, ladies and gentlemen, is murder.”

  The raised hand came down and joined its partner in an earnest front-of-the-body clasp. “Now,” Cecilia said, “add the confession. Add the defendant’s own words confirming everything I just said. Add the details that the defendant provided, like his friend cracking a joke about making a withdrawal while patting his coat pocket. Add all that, and the case is closed. Done. Proved beyond any and all reasonable doubt.”

  Cecilia turned one last time and took a long look at Luke Zlotnik. Doing so invited the jurors to follow suit. And the judge. And the gallery. Everyone in the room took a moment to look at the defendant. It was deafening.

  Cecilia nodded to herself and turned back to the jury. “This is a terrible case, ladies and gentlemen. Tragic isn’t a strong enough word. Two people are dead—a young man at the beginning of his life and a police officer who died defending the community he swore to serve and protect. And now, another life hangs in the balance. Young Luke Zlotnik sits there accused of murder, facing all of the consequences that will come from that. But he doesn’t sit there by accident. He sits there because of his own decisions. The exact gunshot may have been someone else’s action, but it was his decision to carry out the crime he and Miguel planned that day. The judge told you in her instructions, ‘You must reach your decision based on the facts proved to you and on the law given to you, not on sympathy, prejudice, or personal preference.’