Final Verdict

by William Bernhardt

  “No. It’s not in the police evidence locker.”

  “Was it tested by the forensic department?”

  “I believe so, but—”

  “And in fact, they found no traces of blood, hair, skin, or other body matter, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “And it isn’t broken or cracked.”

  “It’s solid steel. I wouldn’t expect it to be damaged.”

  “But you would expect to see residue from a collision with someone’s head, if that’s what happened. Wouldn’t you?”

  “Not necessarily. The assailant could have put the paperweight into something else, like a sock. That would make it easier to swing. Easier to get some serious momentum. Even a rock in a sock is enough to kill a person if it hits the soft part of the skull.”

  “Did the police find any evidence of a sock at the crime scene?”

  “In the office? No. But I assume your client has a few.” The doctor smiled. “That sockless Miami Vice look is so passé.”

  Chapter 28

  For her next witness, Jazlyn put Jake Kakazu on the stand. That was expected and inevitable, given that he was the one who found the head in the freezer. Jazlyn established who and what he was, his experience and credentials, and of course, his Oxford education. That didn't bear on the case at hand, but it was bound to impress a few jurors. With impressive speed, Jazlyn arrived at the fateful day Jake and Sergeant Pemberton arrived at Sweeney’s office.

  “What was the reason for the visit?”

  “Shortly before, a dead body was found on the pavement outside Sweeney’s building. We believe the man plunged through a floor-to-ceiling window in Sweeney’s office. When we contacted the defendant, he acknowledged that it was true—but claimed that the man attacked him and was killed in self-defense. I wanted to see the site where it happened.”

  “Did you doubt the claim of self-defense?”

  “We weren’t to that point yet.”

  “Is the SPPD investigating the defendant?”

  “Yes. As has been widely reported, many of the women’s shelters the defendant helped create were fronts for—”

  “Objection,” Dan said. “Relevance.”

  The judge nodded. “Sustained. Let’s stick to the crime that forms the basis of this case.”

  Given what he had learned during the jury examination, Dan suspected most of the jurors already knew all about the video porn operations Dan uncovered in the basements of the so-called Sweeney Shelters. Helping women above ground, exploiting them below. But he couldn’t sit still and let them tarnish his client with every possible irrelevant dirty dealing. That could go on forever.

  “Did you learn anything during the visit?”

  “About the first murder? No. Everything Sweeney told us checked out. Just to be clear, I’m not saying it was true. But I saw nothing that disproved his story. According to him, he and the victim, a man named Fabian Fuentes, were the only two present, so I had no means to verify his story. I was about to leave when Sweeney offered to let me peruse his office and artwork. And during that tour, I noticed something unusual about the shape of his office.”

  “Please explain.”

  “Given Sweeney’s claims about the window, I made a point of looking at the blueprints for the building filed at the county clerk’s office. I eventually realized that this office was not as large as it should be. Could be hidden storage space, of course, but given the nature of the defendant, I thought it more likely that he had a sanctum sanctorum, a private area within an already private office. Someplace he could be alone.” He paused. “Someplace he could put things he didn’t want disturbed.”

  This was complete speculation, but Dan saw no point in objecting. Kakazu was simply laying a predicate for what came next, and they were going to get there one way or the other. He decided to save his objections for when it mattered.

  “Did your suspicions prove true?”

  “Yes. Sweeney readily admitted there was another room. A private room only he could enter. The door was hidden and a fingerprint scanner controlled the lock. His right index finger was required to open the door.”

  “Did he take you into the secret room?”

  “He did.”

  “And just to be clear, did he invite you in?”

  “He did.”

  “Did he put any restrictions on what you could do or examine while you were inside?”

  “Not at all.”

  Jazlyn gave Dan a little side-eye. “What did you find inside the private room?”

  “The same, except even more ornate and plush. Had the vibe of a British men’s club. A big plus-sized stuffed chair on a rotating platform. Tea service. More artwork, some of it...edgier. Nudes and such.”

  At least two jurors raised an eyebrow. Dan knew that point hadn’t been dropped by accident. Porn would be discussed later.

  “Some statues,” Kakazu continued. “Big home-theater screen. Built-in speakers. Sweeney seems to favor classical music. And of course, as everyone must know by now, there was a freezer.”

  “Why did he have a freezer?”

  “It was a complete mini-kitchen setup. Fridge, sink, pantry. But the freezer was bigger than the fridge. He told me a story about his nostalgic affection for ice cream. I felt he was inviting me to look inside—”

  “Objection,” Dan said. The time had come. “The witness’ feelings are not relevant.”

  The judge didn’t wait for a response. “Sustained. I’ll ask the witness to stick to what he saw and heard.”

  “Of course.” Kakazu continued. “The defendant talked about the contents of the freezer and did not indicate in any way that he objected to me looking inside. So I opened the freezer.” He inhaled deeply. “And Christopher Andrus’ head rolled out. Right into my arms.”

  Several of the jurors recoiled in horror, turning their heads.

  “Peering inside,” Kakazu continued, “I saw the hands. Blood-caked ice.”

  “What did you do then?”

  “I asked the defendant about it. He declined to answer.”

  “What exactly did he say?”

  “He said he was calling his lawyer. I told him he could do that from the station and placed him under arrest. Sergeant Pemberton cuffed him.”

  “Was there any trouble?”

  “Not from him. But we got a lot of blowback from his assistant, Prudence Hancock.” He pointed. “She’s sitting in the courtroom, just behind the defendant. She yelled and threatened and told us we didn’t know what we were doing. Said we were bringing down a hailstorm of trouble so bad we wouldn’t know what happened. I came close to arresting her as well, but she finally backed off. Pemberton took the defendant downtown and booked him. I remained at the office to conduct a more thorough search. Obviously, at that point, I had probable cause.”

  “Did you find anything of note?”

  “Several things. I visited the building security office. Turns out they have a twenty-four-hour security team on the ground floor and security cameras posted all around the building.”

  “Were any of those cameras in Sweeney’s office? Or the secret interior office?”

  “Unfortunately, no. But there were cameras in the elevator lobby. I made copies of the footage from that camera for the prior week.”

  “And what did those tapes reveal?”

  “They show Sweeney rode the elevator to his office with another man, a man we now know to be Christopher Andrus.” Jake briefly described the process that allowed them to identify his remains. “We know for a fact that Sweeney and the victim went to his office. And we know for a fact that Andrus didn’t leave alive.”

  “Thank you, Officer Kakazu. I pass the witness.”

  * * *

  Dan had little to say, since he knew Kakazu wouldn’t lie. But there were a few points of clarification worth cementing in the jurors’ heads.

  “Let’s start with the first death. Fabian Fuentes. Has the SPPD charged anyone with that crime?”

  “
No.”

  “Would it be fair to say the police do not have sufficient evidence to charge anyone with that crime?”

  “If we had the evidence to charge someone, we would. That’s our job.”

  Dan was careful not to ask Kakazu what he thought happened, or what leads they might be pursuing. What mattered was the evidence. “At this point in time, you cannot dispute my client’s statement that Fuentes attacked him and that my client acted in self-defense.”

  “We have not charged him. At this time.”

  “Let’s talk about the next matter. Christopher Andrus. You say my client talked about ice cream. That’s hardly the same thing as inviting you to open the freezer, is it?”

  Jake hesitated. “It is not exactly the same thing, no.”

  “And you said my client did not pose any objection to you opening the freezer. But did you tell him you were about to open the freezer?”

  “Not in so many words, no.”

  “So he had no way of knowing. Why would he expect you to open the freezer? It’s common knowledge that police can’t search beyond what’s in plain sight unless they have a warrant.”

  Kakazu wasn’t taking it lying down. “He could see that I was scrutinizing the premises. I’d been poking around since the moment I entered.”

  “Did you open the fridge?”

  “Well...no. Sweeney—”

  “Did you open the pantry?”

  “No.”

  “Why would he expect you to behave differently with respect to the freezer?”

  Kakazu’s voice took on a slight edge. “Because we were talking about ice cream.”

  “Is there any reason why my client should not be permitted to have a private room stocked with ice cream?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “It was his building, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “A busy businessman might understandably want to get away from the madding crowd every now again, don’t you think?”

  “I wouldn’t know.”

  “A lot of men have so-called mancaves. Even a few on this jury, I believe. You’ve heard of that, right?”

  “Of course.”

  “And my client had more artwork than he could fit in the exterior office. A busy man might like a private retreat decorated in a pleasing way.”

  “The fingerprint scanner suggests that what he wanted was a place no one else could enter. A place where he could stash things.”

  “Like artwork for his private enjoyment.”

  “Or a body,” Jake mumbled.

  “Sweeney knew he was under investigation. Wouldn’t this be the stupidest possible time to commit a murder?”

  “Maybe it couldn’t wait.”

  “Sweeney knew you were coming. Wouldn’t it be smarter to get rid of the body parts before you arrived?”

  “Criminals don’t always do the smart thing. That’s why we catch them. Successful men tend to become smug. Over-confident.”

  “For that matter,” Dan continued, “my client didn’t have to admit you to the private room. You didn’t have a warrant. Doesn’t the fact that he took you in there suggest he had no idea there was a partial corpse in the freezer?”

  Jake shook his head. “Smug. Superior. Over-confident. Or maybe he didn’t have the time or means to get rid of it.”

  “Have you found the rest of the body?”

  “We don’t know where it is. Maybe your client could tell me.”

  “Objection. Move to strike.”

  Judge Smulders looked down at the witness sternly. “Officer Kakazu. You know better than that. Answer the question.”

  Kakazu looked repentant. “I’m sorry, your honor. To answer the question, I don’t know where the rest of the body is.”

  “Your version of what happened is missing a lot of key details. And doesn’t really make any logical sense.”

  “I don’t agree with—”

  “And if someone could get most of the body out of the office without being detected, they could get it in without being detected.”

  “There is no—”

  “Thank you, Officer Kakazu. No more questions.”

  Chapter 29

  Dan knew Jazlyn’s final witness for the day, the accountant, played a key role in the prosecution’s plan to establish motive—but he wasn’t sure that would make the testimony any less boring. Numbers, equations, spreadsheets—it all tended to make jurors’ eyes roll up into their heads. He’d never once seen an accountant-witness who wasn’t snooze-inducing on the stand.

  But then again, this case had been full of surprises from the get-go.

  Jazlyn called Hannibal Busey to the stand. Thin, floppy hair, glasses taped at the bridge. What his generation would’ve called a nerd, but Dan knew nerds were a lot cooler today than they were once upon a time. He also knew the man had been buried in work Dan wouldn’t want to do even if it came with a ticket to heaven.

  Jazlyn walked Busey through his education and background. Two Masters and a Ph.D. A thriving accounting business. Had consulted with law enforcement on several previous occasions. And most relevant to this gathering—he’d been scrutinizing Sweeney’s financial books since the day the cops seized them.

  Jazlyn whisked Busey through the fundamentals of Sweeney’s business. It was obvious she wanted to get somewhere—before the jury fell asleep.

  “What conclusions can you draw from your review of the defendant’s books?”

  “First of all,” Busey said, raising a finger, “I assume that when you mention the defendant, you mean his business, SweeTech. Since he is the sole shareholder, there is little practical difference between the two. And in addition to the financial books, I reviewed his tax returns, although he made it difficult for us to obtain them. We had to go to court.”

  “Is that unusual?”

  Busey smiled. “No one ever refuses to release their tax returns unless they have something to hide.”

  “What’s the portrait you obtained of the defendant’s financial situation?”

  “Desperate. And getting worse.”

  Beside him, Dan could sense Sweeney stewing. This must be a blow to his massive ego, hearing people suggest in open court that he was a business failure, just the opposite of what he’d been trying to convince people for years.

  “Please explain,” Jazlyn said.

  “For a long time, SweeTech and its many diverse subsidiaries did quite well. Massive amounts of cash flowing through them. Big dividends for the sole shareholder. He mitigated his income tax in a variety of ways, including charitable donations, all the money he gave to the foundation that created the so-called Sweeney Shelters. But not long ago, he invested in a bio-quantum computing venture that turned out to be a complete bust. The man who organized the deal is now behind bars. It’s doubtful whether he ever had anything real. But the point is, Sweeney lost close to half a billion bucks.”

  Jazlyn craned her neck. “Was that enough to make an impact on his bottom line?”

  “That would be enough to make an impact on anyone’s bottom line. Yes, it hit Sweeney hard. And soon thereafter, much of the cash flow in those subsidiaries dried up. In some cases, it completely evaporated.”

  Jazlyn nodded. “As if...someone had been siphoning a lot of cash through Sweeney’s companies but suffered a severe business interruption. Or took their money elsewhere.”

  “Exactly.”

  Jazlyn was getting dangerously close to talking about the cartel. At the pretrial, the judge had forbidden any mention of Central American cartels unless directly relevant to the question of who committed the murder. The potential prejudice outweighed the probative value.

  “Were there other problems?”

  “Yes. I mentioned the Sweeney Shelters and, as most people know, those have been closed following the discovery of a large-scale video-porn—”

  Dan rose. “Your honor—”

  Jazlyn cut him off. “We’re not going to describe the criminal operation in any
detail.”

  Then why mention it? “I still object.”

  The judge nodded. “I’m going to allow it, but I’m watching you carefully, Madame Prosecutor. If this veers into irrelevant matters or baseless character assassination, I’ll shut you down.”

  “Understood.” Jazlyn returned her attention to the witness. “What do you know about the video-porn operation, sir?”

  “Porn is extremely profitable, even in the short-term.” Busey paused. “It’s exactly the sort of business an unethical person might use to generate large amounts of money—”

  “Objection,” Dan said. “This is precisely what I predicted. Despite the court’s ruling, they went straight to the baseless character assassination. I move for a mistrial.”

  The judge raised his hands, looking extremely unhappy. “Your motion will be denied. But your objection will be sustained. Ms. Prentice, you made a promise to the court.”

  “And I believe I have kept it. No one has said outright that the defendant—”

  “Stop playing games. Everyone in this courtroom knows what you were implying. I’m going to instruct the jury to disregard this entire line of questioning.” He looked at the jurors directly. “The defendant is on trial today for one crime and one crime only. Murder. Any allegations regarding anything else are irrelevant and should be completely ignored during your deliberations.”

  He pointed his gavel at Jazlyn. “If this happens again, I’ll issue sanctions. Have I made myself clear?”

  “You have. I...apologize, your honor.”

  “Anything more from this witness?”

  “Just one thing.” Jazlyn turned back to Busey. “You said you’ve made a thorough review of the defendant’s assets. Do you see any hope that he might pull himself out of this financial tailspin?”

  “Only one. The defendant owns a huge collection of extremely valuable art. Vermeer. Basquiat. He even owns a van Gogh, as we discovered when we searched his premises. If he sold his art collection, it would go a long way toward healing his financial wounds. It might not pay everything, but at the very least it would buy him time.”

  “And if he wanted to sell that work, how would he go about it?”