Animal Instinct

by Rosenfelt, David

  “I understand.”

  “Don’t blow this one, Rico. You’ve only got the one shot.”

  When the call ended, Andy calls me and tells me about his conversation with Mahler, in detail.

  “What do you think he will do?” I ask.

  “I don’t know; he sounded panicked. I know he believed me when I told him we knew everything; mentioning Marshall was the clincher. He should come forward; in these circumstances it would be the smart thing to do. But it could go the other way as well.”

  “At least we finally know what’s going on.”

  “Tell it to the jury.”

  I’M not thinking about what will happen if Mahler comes forward.

  I’m focused on what will happen if he doesn’t.

  Andy’s threat to blow the lid off this thing, while I hope it seemed credible to Mahler, was actually empty. Without Marshall going public, we have no victims to parade in front of the judge or the public. We know what’s going on, but the jury will remain in the dark.

  We simply do not have a plan B.

  Andy hasn’t said so, but plan A is not exactly foolproof either. If Mahler just admitted to the blackmailing, that doesn’t clear me of the Kline murder. Mahler would have to identity the real killer, which he might not do. He might not even know who it is; as the computer guy, he could have not been tied in to the violent side of the operation.

  I’m sitting in court going nuts agonizing over what Mahler is going to do. Andy, meanwhile, is about to start the defense case. He clearly has to maintain total concentration; I have no idea how he is able to compartmentalize like this.

  His … I should say our … first witness is Cynthia Geisler. Cynthia is a blood spatter expert that Andy has brought in from Chicago.

  It must have been an interesting conversation between Cynthia and her parents when they talked about the career path she wanted to follow.

  “You’re interested in blood?” her mother might have asked. “Isn’t that a little ghoulish?”

  Cynthia probably laughed. “No, come on, Mom … I’m not interested in blood. Blood is creepy. But I am fascinated by how it spatters. Like when the jugular gets slashed.”

  I’m impressed and grateful to Andy that she is here. I’m sure he could have gotten by without her coming; if he’s found something worthwhile for our case in the way the blood spattered, he could have handled it himself. But he didn’t; he went the extra mile and brought Geisler in. I’m sure Chicago blood spatter experts do not come cheap.

  They may not be cheap, but they’re pretty boring. Geisler drones on about how it is unlikely that blood spurting from Kline’s neck could have landed in the way that the clothing in the garbage bag appeared. She talks about initial impact, range, and transference, and while she seems to know what she is talking about, I’m not sure the jury is taking it all in.

  On cross-examination, Dylan brings the conversation even deeper into the weeds. By the time she is finished on the stand, I think the jury will be ready to take up a collection to send her back to Chicago.

  At the first break, Andy checks his phone to see if there are any messages from Mahler. His shake of the head tells me that there aren’t any.

  After the break, our next witness is Walter Nichols. He’s the neighbor who called 911 to report the domestic violence incident that night, which now seems like ten years ago. I could argue that Nichols is the cause of everything that has happened since; certainly if he hadn’t made that call, I wouldn’t be sitting in a courtroom wearing a GPS ankle bracelet.

  Andy is taking an interesting approach here. My talking to Nichols in the first place supports Dylan’s position on my motive, that I was out to get Kline out of my guilt at not doing more the night I was called to the house.

  Andy’s belief is that since the jury already heard testimony about it, and it happens to be true, we should embrace it. We should show it as evidence of my inherent goodness in wanting to protect Lisa, and my desire to see justice done after she died.

  Legal, by the book, no violent vendetta, justice.

  Andy takes him through the original night, what he heard, and why he called. Andy pays particular attention to Nichols claiming that he heard Kline say, “You’ll do what you’re told.”

  “Did you know what he was referring to?” Andy asks. “Do you know what he was saying she was told?”

  “No.”

  “Could it have had to do with something outside of their domestic situation?”

  “I suppose so.”

  On cross, Dylan tries to make it seem as if I was obsessed with Kline. Nichols, to his credit, is not going along with it. He says I was just asking questions about that night, and that he didn’t get the feeling I was intent on any kind of revenge.

  Lunch brings two more times that Andy checks for messages, with the same result.

  “He would have called if he was going to,” I say, and Andy nods his agreement.

  Laurie joins us for lunch because she is going to be our next witness. It is rare that Andy calls on her in this capacity, but in this case she is easily the best one to get certain points across. We don’t talk about her testimony; I’m sure she and Andy have gone over it as much as they need to. And we also don’t talk much about Mahler; all of us feel the same sense of dread that our plan has not worked.

  When Laurie takes the stand, Andy asks her what her occupation is. She says private investigator and confirms that she has been working for the defense team.

  He introduces Lisa Yates’s phone records, which we have legally subpoenaed, and which match the ones that Sam had obtained through other-than-legal means.

  “When we looked at these records together, did we notice anything that we found of particular interest?”

  Dylan is out of his chair and objecting to this testimony as not being even “tangentially relevant” to the case we are trying.

  Judge Wallace calls the lawyers to a bench conference so they can discuss it out of earshot of the jury. I can’t hear what they are saying, but I’m sure that Andy is explaining that Dylan opened the door to testimony about Lisa Yates’s death by trying to set up my motive.

  I assume that works, because the lawyers leave the bench and Andy continues his questioning. He asks what about the bill caught Laurie’s eye, and she mentions the repeated calls from Lisa to Jana Mitchell. Most notable was the forty-five-minute call the night before Lisa was killed.

  “It wasn’t stunning news,” Laurie said, “and it could have just been that they were friends talking. But it was significant enough to get me to call Jana Mitchell and ask her about it.”

  “And did you?”

  “Yes. She was friendly enough, but as soon as I asked her about Lisa Yates, she seemed to get fearful. She even denied knowing Lisa. Almost immediately after that she hung up on me.”

  “So what did you do?”

  “Well, it was such an unusual reaction that it piqued my interest. So I flew out to Cincinnati the next day to try and get her to talk to me, to tell me anything that she might know about Lisa Yates.”

  “And did you do that?”

  “Yes. I flew there the next afternoon, had dinner, and went to her home at around eight thirty.”

  “Did you speak to her?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “She was murdered in her home ninety minutes before I got there.”

  I can see the jury react in surprise to Laurie’s statement.

  “Did you consider it a coincidence that Ms. Mitchell was murdered the day after appearing frightened by your talking about Lisa Yates?”

  “I did not. I felt, and will always feel, guilt that I did or said something that ultimately led to her being murdered.”

  “Thank you. No further questions.”

  Dylan’s cross-examination does not attack the accuracy of Laurie’s testimony. She related a series of events that are obviously true, and that she lived through. Instead he asks if she has any evidence that any of this is relat
ed to the death of Gerald Kline.

  “I can’t prove that it is, no,” Laurie says.

  “I didn’t ask if you could prove it,” Dylan says. “I asked if you have evidence of a connection that you can present to this court.”

  “I do not. But we’re getting there.”

  Dylan could object and ask the judge to strike the last comment, but he’s smart enough to know that the jury has already heard it. So instead he just smiles condescendingly and says, “Please let us know when you do.”

  Laurie leaves the stand and exits the courtroom as the judge gives the standard spiel to the jury to not talk to anyone about the case or let themselves be exposed to media coverage.

  When he’s finished and the jury has been dismissed, we turn to leave as well. As we reach the rear door, Laurie is coming back in. The look on her face causes Andy to ask, “What’s the matter?”

  “Richard Mahler hanged himself this morning. His housekeeper discovered the body.”

  I have no idea if Richard Mahler really hanged himself.

  He could certainly have been murdered, and it was then intentionally made to look like a suicide. The way this case has gone, that would certainly not be a shocker. But I am certain of one thing, and that is that he’s dead.

  Laurie makes a couple of calls to friends on the force who are in positions to know. They say that the prevailing wisdom is that Mahler did, in fact, commit suicide and even left a brief note.

  I call Janet Carlson, the medical examiner who testified as one of Dylan’s witnesses.

  “Hi, Corey. Sorry about testifying like that; I really had no choice.”

  “Not to worry, Janet. It’s your job and you told the truth. No problem with that.”

  “I shouldn’t have to tell you this, but I think the charge against you is a bag of horseshit.”

  I laugh. “Thanks, Janet. You’re a delicate flower.”

  She returns the laugh. “So I’ve been told. What can I do for you?”

  “Richard Mahler. Are you calling it a suicide?”

  “Between us? Because I have not discussed it with anyone yet.”

  “Just me, Laurie, and Andy.”

  “Good enough. I’m calling it a suicide because I have no reason not to. All the signs are there, but in these cases you never know.”

  “What did the note say?”

  “Short and to the point: ‘I’m so sorry for what I’ve done.’ That’s it.”

  I thank her and renew my promise to keep it confidential until she releases her report.

  Maybe Andy will feel differently, but to me the manner of his death doesn’t seem terribly consequential to our case. Either way, it effectively closes the door to any possibility we have to reveal the conspiracy during our trial. The jury is not going to hear about the blackmail scheme that Gerald Kline was a player in because we simply have no evidence to present to them.

  Mahler’s death fits in, I hope, with the defense Andy is going to offer, that Gerald Kline’s death was just one in a series of violent, chaotic events that have surrounded Ardmore and consumed everybody that Kline and Lisa Yates were involved in.

  If the jury buys into it, then they will, I hope, be able to see that I have not been a player in that, and that I was clearly not in a position to have committed these other murders.

  Laurie has a different idea. “I’m going to Pittsburgh.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “To talk to Harold Marshall. To get him to reconsider and come forward with his story. Tied into the Mahler suicide, it would be powerful stuff.”

  Andy shakes his head. “This time you go with Marcus. Cincinnati didn’t work out so well; we want to make sure Pittsburgh isn’t worse.”

  “No chance. I can handle myself. And we want to cajole this guy, not scare the hell out of him.”

  “He told me that if we come for him, he’ll deny everything.”

  Laurie nods. “And maybe he will. But maybe not. It’s certainly worth a try. And you and Ricky can have another boys’ night.”

  “How much pizza can we eat?”

  So Laurie once again books her flight for first thing the next morning. I’m not optimistic that she’ll have any success in convincing Marshall; Andy had said he was adamant that he be left out of it. But like she says, it’s worth a try, and I appreciate her making the effort.

  But I think our fate, my fate, is going to be determined in court.

  One way or the other.

  “CAPTAIN Stanton, if you know, who is Jake Gardener?” Andy asks.

  Pete looks uncomfortable; he’s not used to testifying as part of a defense case. I know that discomfort is tempered somewhat by the fact that he is helping me, and I appreciate that.

  “He is, or was, a contract killer.”

  “You said ‘he was.’ Does that mean he has changed occupations or is deceased?”

  “He is deceased.”

  Andy acts surprised. “How and when did he die?”

  “He was killed in a downtown Paterson parking lot almost four weeks ago.”

  “Has that crime been solved?”

  “Not yet; we are working some leads, but nothing solid.” Pete is lying; there is no way they have any leads, and he must be pissed because he is certain that Andy and Marcus are somehow involved in Gardener’s death.

  “When the body was discovered, were any possessions he was carrying confiscated?”

  “Yes.”

  “Including a weapon?”

  “Yes.”

  “What about a cell phone?”

  “Yes.”

  Andy introduces as evidence the GPS record from that cell phone, which we again subpoenaed after Sam had already provided it to us. Andy asks Pete to identify it and he does.

  Then Andy points to the night of Kline’s murder and gets Pete to say that the phone was in Kline’s house an hour before I called the police to the house and reported Kline’s death.

  “So the phone was definitely there?”

  Pete nods. “According to these records.”

  “So just to be clear, a man you personally believe is a contract killer was in Gerald Kline’s house that night?”

  “Apparently so.”

  This is significant evidence, and I’m sure that Dylan considers it essential that he challenge it. He does that on his cross-examination.

  “Captain Stanton, you said that Jake Gardener was a contract killer. How many murders did he commit?”

  “I don’t have the exact number.”

  “Fair enough. How many murders was he convicted of?”

  “He was never convicted of a murder. He was convicted of other crimes. He—”

  Dylan interrupts. “Never convicted? So apparently in your mind he was exempt from the innocent-until-proven-guilty thing that happens to be in the Constitution. Let’s try it another way. How many murders was he charged with?”

  “He was never charged.”

  “So he never went before a jury like this one, to be judged on whether he was an actual killer?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “So this is a contract killer who was never charged, never convicted, and you have no idea who he killed. Captain Stanton, have you encountered a good number of contract killers in your career?”

  “Unfortunately, yes.”

  “Is it not their style to do the deed and then leave?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Do they generally set up an elaborate scam to frame someone else?”

  “Not in my experience.”

  “Was there ever any allegation that Mr. Gardener had done such a thing before?”

  “Not that I am aware of.”

  “These records allegedly say that Mr. Gardener’s phone was there? Do you know who was carrying it?”

  “I do not.”

  “Do these records show where Mr. Gardener was that night?”

  “They do not.”

  “So just to recap, what we know is that the phone of a person never ev
en charged with a homicide was at Mr. Kline’s house well before Mr. Douglas arrived? Is that accurate?”

  “It is.”

  “Thank you.”

  Andy tells Judge Wallace that we are letting Pete off the stand subject to recall later on.

  Mercifully, the judge adjourns court early because one of the jurors has a medical issue. The judge tells Andy and Dylan that if it is not resolved today, he will have to move in one of the alternate jurors as a replacement. Andy seems unconcerned with that; he has no idea whether that particular juror, or the alternate, is favorable to our side.

  I go back to Andy’s to pick up copies of trial material that I can go over and most likely get nowhere with. I get there before he does because he has to pick up Ricky at his friend Will Rubenstein’s house.

  When Andy arrives, he starts to gather copies of the documents for me and also texts me a copy of the recording he made of the phone call from Mahler. I hadn’t heard it, but want to.

  As he is doing this, Laurie calls. They speak briefly, then Andy says, “Hold on, let me put this on the speaker so Corey can hear it.” He does so. “Start over.”

  Laurie’s voice comes through the speaker. “I went to Harold Marshall’s office; he’s a pediatrician. I told the receptionist that I was a private investigator and had to speak to him about a very important matter. So I sat for a half hour in the waiting room with a bunch of coughing and sneezing five-year-olds. I’ll be bringing those germs home with me.”

  “Sounds like fun,” Andy says.

  “It was. I was finally brought back to his office, and I told him why I was there. He claimed to have absolutely no idea what I was talking about.”

  Andy nods. “He said he would deny it.”

  “Well, he did a hell of a job denying it. He seemed bewildered and said I must have the wrong Harold Marshall. I confirmed his cell phone number and he started to act worried. He asked if he should call the police, that someone was out there impersonating him.”

  “So you believed him?” I asked.

  “I did. If he was lying, he’s the Brando of pediatricians.”

  I don’t know what to make of Laurie’s talk with Harold Marshall.