by Carsen Taite
He cleared his throat. “I was confused for a moment. Yes, we did find a length of rope at the defendant’s house. It looked similar to the one you just showed me, but as you pointed out, it can’t be the same one since you brought that one with you and the other one was booked into evidence.”
“And you know the other one is in the evidence room because you’re the one who checked it in, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Would it surprise you to know that I purchased this rope, which happens to match the exact specifications of the rope described in the medical examiner’s report, at Home Depot?”
“I guess not,” he said, his narrowed eyes, a signal he was trying to figure out where she was going with her questions.
Catherine moved quickly to a new subject. “In your report, you stated that you were the first officer on the scene.”
“Yes.”
“And you found the front door slightly ajar, so you entered the house. Upon entering, you found Mrs. Knoll lying on the floor with a rope around her neck.”
“Yes.”
Catherine made a show of picking up an official looking binder and flipping through the pages, settling on a spot somewhere in the middle. She stared across the room until Reese was squirming in his seat. “What did procedure dictate that you do next?”
She saw his surprise at the open-ended question. Normally, it would be a risk for her to deviate from the tight yes or no line of inquiry, but whether he realized it or not, she was giving him a noose and hoping he would hang on it.
“Glove up, cordon off the scene, call for backup and a crime scene unit.”
“Let’s start with the gloves. You stated that you removed the rope from Angela Knoll’s neck before anyone else arrived at the scene.”
“That’s correct. I thought she might still be alive, and I wanted to—”
Catherine cut him off. “Please just answer the question, Detective.” She looked back down at her notes, pretending to read something very important, but all she’d written was he’s lying.
“Did you put gloves on before you touched Angela Knoll’s neck, before you removed the noose?”
“No. As I explained before, I was in a hurry to try and save her life.”
She resisted smiling at the opportunity he’d just given her. “Let’s talk about that for a moment. You’ve read the ME’s report, correct?”
“I have.”
“And you’ve seen the part where he states unequivocally that Angela Knoll died as a result of the knife wounds inflicted to her chest.”
“Yes, but I didn’t know she was dead at the time I entered.”
Catherine started to caution him to answer only the question she’d posed but decided his tendency to fill in the gaps would only serve her purpose here. “So, your testimony is that you’d received a distressed phone call from Angela Knoll. You happened to be nearby, so instead of calling it in, you rushed to the house. The door was ajar, and you burst in, found Mrs. Knoll on the floor, rushed to her side, and removed the rope around her neck. You didn’t take time to put on gloves or take any other steps to make sure the scene wasn’t compromised, in an effort to save her life?”
He barely waited until she finished her question before he slammed his palm on the rail of the witness stand. “Exactly!”
Catherine wanted to smile, to gloat at his careless response, certain that Starr Rio, who’d risen to make an objection to her overly long and detailed question, was now fuming that her witness hadn’t allowed her time to stop him from responding. Instead, Catherine kept up appearances for the jury and merely raised her eyebrows in an incredulous expression. “Thank you for clarifying that. I have just a few more questions.”
Step by step, she took him through his history with her client. Reese had shown up at the Knolls’ house on several other occasions, investigating domestic disputes called in by both Peter and Angela before they’d separated, and he’d always taken Angela’s side. When he’d gone to question Peter about Angela’s death, he’d claimed he found rope matching the rope from Angela’s neck at the crime scene. Through careful questions, she crafted a scenario she could use in closing to paint him as the would-be hero who would do whatever it took to save the damsel in distress even if it meant taking matters into his own hands to frame her client.
After she’d laid a strong foundation, she looped her inquiry back to the scene of the crime. “You enter the house and see a bloody crime scene.” She reached for a piece of paper and read his testimony under direct word for word. “‘Blood was everywhere.’” She looked up and waited until he agreed before moving on to the next point. “You ran to Mrs. Knoll, felt for a pulse, removed the rope, set it to the side, and continued to try and revive her, but she never regained consciousness. Correct?”
“Yes.”
Catherine stood, walked over to Starr, and asked for State’s exhibits K and J. Starr reluctantly handed her a large envelope with a clear glass window that contained the rope Reese had testified he’d removed from Angela Knoll’s neck, and an eight-by-ten photo of a coil of rope found at her client’s apartment. Although the jury had already seen both items during Starr’s direct examination of Reese, Catherine held both items away from their view as she returned to the witness stand. She set them both on the rail.
“Detective Reese, you’ve already testified about both of these items, the rope found at the scene and the rope you testified you found at my client’s apartment. My question to you is do you see any difference between the two?”
He immediately shook his head. “No. I mean one is longer, which just means that he cut off a portion to use when he committed the murder, but otherwise, no, I agree with the crime scene investigator. The rope is exactly the same.”
She watched his smug face and fought to keep her cool. “I agree. Would you like to know why?” She watched him spend a moment trying to figure out if hers was a trick question, but as she predicted, he was unable to resist.
“Sure.”
She picked up the envelope and the photo and held them side by side in full view of the jury. “Because neither one of these pieces of rope has blood on it.” She let the comment hang in the air for a moment, watching the jurors’ faces until she was certain they got the point. They’d seen the photos. Angela Knoll had been covered in blood. There was no way a piece of rope around her neck would have escaped the bloodbath. Unless it hadn’t been part of the crime. Unless it had been placed there afterward by an overzealous detective looking for a way to conclusively pin this crime on her client. Her theory was that when Reese didn’t immediately see any evidence that would tie Peter to the crime, he had used some rope he had in his car to make it look like Peter had topped off a stabbing spree with a bit of strangulation. Since Reese had led the team that searched Peter’s apartment, it would’ve been simple for him to plant the rest of the rope there to link the evidence.
But Catherine resisted tying up all the loose ends now, when Starr still had the opportunity to try to punch holes in her theory. She’d save her arguments for closing, certain she could raise enough questions for the jury to find reasonable doubt. Instead, she picked up the exhibits and returned to the defense table. “Your Honor, I have no further questions for this witness.”
* * *
Starr paced the short length of the DA workroom, her impatience growing. When the door opened, her number two, Matt Abbott, barely hid his wince of surprise at finding her here rather than in the courtroom. “Get in here,” she snapped. She waited until Matt closed the door behind him before she unraveled. “We need to decide if we’re going to address what just happened or move on.”
Matt shook his head. “It’s a problem. I mean Landauer made her point. There’s no way that rope was there with all that blood around and didn’t get a drop on it. Your guess is as good as mine about how to handle it.”
Starr bit back a sharp retort about how guessing didn’t win cases and stood in place. This case was going downhill fast, and she di
dn’t have the time or energy to waste on licking her wounds. She’d known, going into trial, that the rope was going to be an issue, but there was plenty of evidence to support the charge even without the rope. She had a fifteen-minute break to figure out how to rehabilitate her witness, and try to get the jury to focus on the evidence he hadn’t messed with. No matter what Catherine Landauer thought about how Reese had handled the case, Starr was convinced Peter Knoll was guilty as sin, and she wasn’t about to give up until he spent the rest of his life behind bars.
“Go talk to Reese. He needs a thrashing, but don’t beat him up so bad that he sounds like he’s whipped when he gets back on the stand. I’ll go over my notes for redirect and I’ll meet you in there.”
Matt opened the door to the workroom and ran smack into the towering form of Fred Nelson, her immediate supervisor and the first assistant to the district attorney, Patrick Murphy. Starr wanted to groan at the interruption, but instead she mustered half a smile. “Matt, head on out,” she said. “Nelson, what can I do for you?”
“You can kick this case to the curb as fast as possible,” Nelson said, sliding into one of the chairs in the crowded room. “I saw the reporter from the Statesman typing up a damn blog like she has the story of the decade. What the hell kind of show are you running in there?”
Starr mentally calculated how much time she could expect to do if she punched her boss in the face and decided he wasn’t worth it. Nelson loved to drop in on his prosecutors and stir up shit, claiming victory when they were winning and crowing they’d gone off the rails when they weren’t. God forbid he ever offered any assistance, although it had been so long since he’d been in a courtroom, she doubted he would have anything to offer. She summoned whatever Zen she could find. “We’re having some trouble with Detective Reese’s testimony, but I’m working on redirect right now. I’m confident we can get the jury to see things our way.”
“Well, I’m not. Cut a deal.”
“No fucking way.” She spat the words out, not caring about the shocked look on his face. “If the jury wants to cut him loose, then that’s their call. Peter Knoll killed his wife, and probably others that we’ll find out about later while he’s waiting for the needle in Huntsville. The guy’s a freak. I refuse to participate in giving him a pass.”
“Twenty years isn’t a pass.”
“It is to me, and if you think Catherine Landauer is going to tell her client to take twenty, you’re crazy. Did you hear her on the news last week, spouting off about how he was the real victim? That clip has been running nonstop, and making a deal now only vindicates her theory.” Starr gathered up her notes. She was done trying to reason with her boss, and it was time to get back to work. She took two steps before his chilling voice stopped her in her tracks.
“You’ll make a deal, or I will report you to the bar for what just happened in there.”
She swung around and crossed her arms—a show of strength to hide the chill creeping up her spine. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Maybe, but you have a reputation for taking shortcuts when you think it will help you win. It’s not a far reach for the state bar ethics committee to believe you contributed to the detective’s misguided sense of justice.”
She narrowed her eyes, appraising his words. Their boss, the DA, was retiring in a year and it was well known around the courthouse that Nelson planned to run for the position, a spot she’d been gunning for since she started at the office as an intern fourteen years ago. If Nelson was trying to undermine her with this case, the next year of battle between them was going to be hell.
He wasn’t wrong. She was always prepared to do whatever it took to win, but she’d never actually committed an ethics violation even if she’d come close. An investigation by the state bar would derail her campaign before it even got started. Still, she wasn’t going to win anything by backing down to threats.
“Report whatever you want,” she said, calling his bluff. “I need to get back in there.”
He shook his head. “I’ve asked Landauer to meet us in here. You can offer her the deal, or I will, but it’s happening. I’ve already spoken with the victim’s family and they see the value in closure.”
A knock on the door cut short any retort on Starr’s part, and she was certain Catherine was standing on the other side. May as well get this over with. She swung the door wide and invited her in. Catherine Landauer was an enigma. She fought hard for her clients and she was a shark when it came to cross-examining anyone from law enforcement, but unlike most of the defense bar who left the adversarial nature of their jobs at the courthouse and joined police and prosecutors for drinks after hours at the local bar, she’d never spotted Catherine outside of the courthouse. In her mind, Catherine spirited away after each case like a genie in a bottle until it was time to come out and grant the wish of some other defendant who needed her skills. And from what Starr knew of her reputation, Catherine granted their wishes with incredible consistency. They hadn’t gone up against each other before, but Starr had checked Catherine’s win record against hers and found they were neck and neck. Now that they were in trial, Starr could tell that Catherine’s reputation as a cop ball buster and top-notch litigator was well earned, which would make this deal sting even more.
Nelson cleared his throat and Starr met his eyes. He wasn’t going to give in. She could try to reach Murphy and plead her case directly to him, but she knew it was pointless. While Murphy could be counted on not to take sides in next year’s election, as long as Nelson was his top lieutenant, he would defer to him on pending cases. You offer her the deal, or I will. Nelson’s words rang like a gong between her ears, pushing her to a decision. What she wanted to do was stalk out of the room and tell the first reporter she could find that Nelson was stealing the case from the jury and offering a deal to a murderer. Let him be straddled with the bad press that would come from such a deal when it came time to start campaigning. But respect for the office held her back. This was her case. Reese had fucked it up and she hadn’t done her due diligence. Time to make the tough call and take the consequences.
“Catherine,” Starr said, “We’d like to offer your client a deal.”
Catherine nodded slowly, her face impassive. “I thought you might. Dismissal?”
Starr started to laugh, but there was absolutely nothing about Catherine’s expression to indicate she might be kidding, and sarcasm would defeat the purpose at this point. “Let’s start with twenty years.”
“You’re wasting my time.”
Catherine turned to go, and Starr glanced at Nelson who raised his eyebrows and shook his head. “I’m not actually,” Starr said, sensing Catherine would respond better to a show of strength than weak supplication. “Detective Reese was a bit of a train wreck, but his testimony isn’t our whole case. We have other cops who can testify about being called out to the house and seeing evidence of your client’s treachery. The jury will take all of this into consideration, and when they find your client guilty, they’ll get to hear about how he treated his ex-wife, the first one. He’ll be begging for twenty at that point.”
“Five.”
“The minimum wasn’t meant for repeat offenders. Fifteen.” Starr could sense Nelson shuffling in place behind her, but she wasn’t about to consult with him before she negotiated downward. If he wanted a deal, he’d get one, but he might not like the terms.
“Seven.”
“Fifteen is generous. He’ll do ten and be out on parole. Maybe he’ll even hire you again when he gets back in trouble, because we both know he will.” Starr immediately regretted her words as Catherine’s face turned to iron, but she didn’t walk out. “Fifteen or we take this to a jury. I will get a guilty and the jury will have no mercy by the time I’ve put on my sentencing evidence. You can be certain about that.”
“Do you like breaking the law, Ms. Rio?” Catherine’s voice was smooth and icy. “By sponsoring Detective Reese’s testimony, that’s exactly what you’re doing. Although I s
uppose it’s certainly in keeping with your usual methods.”
Starr focused hard on keeping her face fixed in a neutral expression, but she could feel Nelson’s eyes boring into her from across the room while Catherine’s fierce blue-gray eyes flashed like steel swords ready to do battle. They were stunningly gorgeous, even in anger.
She shook away the distraction. “My only ‘method’ is winning justice for the citizens of Travis County, and offering your client the minimum would be a travesty that I cannot abide.”
“Then we’re done here. Good luck rehabilitating your witness.”
Catherine turned and started walking toward the door, and Starr imagined a dramatic whoosh of air following her. Winning this case would be hard, but it would be worth it to wipe the smug sense of satisfaction off Catherine’s face.
“What about ten?”
Starr jerked her head and stared at Nelson, but he was focused on Catherine who’d stopped walking when he’d lowered the offer. Catherine slowly turned.
“I’m listening.”
“Ten years,” Nelson said, “But it’s still an aggravated offense, so he’ll do most of that.”
Starr watched in disbelief as they hashed out additional terms of the deal, but she was no longer focused on the specifics, only the general knowledge that Nelson was effectively stealing her case and dismissing months of hard work.
“Are you good with this?”
Starr looked into Catherine’s eyes and she was taken aback by the question. Her gut response was to remark that she had little choice, but she’d already had her power stripped away. Admitting it was only more torture. Instead she turned it back on Catherine. “Are you?”
Catherine’s eyes flickered slightly before shuttering back to their normal nonchalance. She turned back to Nelson. “I’ll talk to my client and have an answer for you before the jury gets back.”
