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Dan rushed into the courtroom. He didn’t like being late. Since Judge Smulders was new, he had no idea how the jurist handled tardy lawyers.
He spotted Jazlyn at the prosecution table. “Thank goodness,” he said, smiling. “After what you said last time, I was afraid you might not be here.”
She arched an eyebrow. “And you’re more comfortable with someone you know you can beat?”
“I’m more comfortable with someone I know I can trust.”
“Now you’re just buttering me up.” Pause. “But don’t stop.”
“I don’t trust your boss at all. I’m convinced Belasco is in deep with Sweeney. And I definitely don’t trust anyone associated with Sweeney.”
“Are you sure? That Prudence is a looker.”
He pulled a face. “Not my type.”
“Gorgeous. Athletic. Smart. Sure, nothing there you’d be interested in.”
“She works for the devil.”
“No one’s perfect.” She passed him a pile of paper. “Here’s our brief. Sorry I didn’t get it finished sooner.”
“I’m just glad you’re still here.”
“Don’t get used to it.” She glanced over her shoulder. “My suspicions were correct. I’m being replaced.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“Nope. Belasco is bringing in a hired gun. He’s supposed to arrive tomorrow.”
His eyes narrowed. “The DA’s idea? Or Sweeney’s?”
She shrugged. “How would I know? Belasco really wants to win this case.”
“But why?”
“Because he’s the DA. Because he’s about to run for higher office and he doesn’t need to lose a highly publicized case.”
He shook his head. “Camila’s case was just as high profile. But he didn’t bring in a hitman prosecutor. Something’s different this time.”
“When you figure it out, let me know.”
“Will do. I suppose this frees you up to focus on your campaign.”
“Maybe. Belasco has dumped lots of other cases in my lap. Busy work, mostly. I don’t think he’s going to be offering me his endorsement.”
“You don’t need it.”
She laughed. “I can tell you’ve never run for office. Rule Number One, Dan—you need all the help you can get.”
* * *
Dan rose when Judge Smulders entered the courtroom.
“Okay,” the judge said, jerking his robe around as he sat. It appeared to be too long and too big for him. He looked like a kid in a Christmas pageant struggling with his angel smock. “We’ve got some kind of motion to keep out evidence or something?”
He cleared his throat. “It’s a motion in limine, your honor. The defense wishes to suppress any mention of the syringe allegedly found in an unattended trash bin outside the foster home where my client lived prior to his arrest.”
“Okay. All right.” Smulders shuffled through the papers on his desk. “Got it. You want to keep out the syringe.” He glanced up at Jazlyn. “You ok with that?”
She pursed her lips. “The prosecution is most definitely not ok with that, your honor. We oppose the motion. The syringe is keenly relevant. It has the defendant’s prints on it—”
“Possibly,” he interjected.
“—and contains traces of a deadly poison.”
“Possibly.”
“We believe it was the murder weapon.”
“Even though,” he added, “the corpse was dissolved virtually without a trace and thus could not be tested for cause of death.”
“But the tox screens indicate that the victim might well have been poisoned before he was...dissolved.”
“And then again, he might not have been.” He knew this was not the strongest motion he’d ever made, but given the judge’s lack of experience, he might get away with it. No judge likes the thought of being reversed on appeal, and a judge so inexperienced, saddled with a big case, his first-ever death penalty case, might be particularly nervous about screwing the whole thing up. “Listen to what she’s saying, your honor. Possible. Virtually. Believe. Might well have been. Everything she says is equivocating and uncertain. Evidence of this nature will only confuse the jury.”
Jazlyn didn’t let that pass. “The jury is always free to disregard evidence they find unconvincing.”
“But will they?” He took his voice up a notch. “We all know the prosecution has a massive advantage, particularly in high-profile cases like this one.”
“I don’t know that at all,” Jazlyn murmured.
“Evidence like this confuses jurors, most of whom already have problems dealing with complex forensic matters. The prosecution goes on and on about prints and trace elements and before long you’ve got an incorrect verdict based upon next to nothing.”
The judge shifted his weight uncomfortably. His eyes darted to his clerk. “Well, I certainly don’t want the jurors to be confused...”
“But the prosecution does, your honor. Even if people don’t believe the syringe was the murder weapon, introducing it could suggest some kind of illegal drug use. That could be defamatory and prejudicial, though not relevant to the question of who committed the murder.”
“Drug addicts have been known to commit crimes,” Jazlyn said dryly.
“Not a crime as complicated as this one. Are you now shifting to a crazed druggie theory?”
“No, just pointing out how relevant this evidence is.”
“If you want to bring drug charges, go for it. But you won’t, because you’re not even sure Ossie put the syringe in the trash can. My point is, your honor, the only evidence that should be admitted is evidence of who committed this murder.”
“The syringe is far from the only evidence we have against the defendant,” Jazlyn said. “I could recite a long list—”
“But please don’t. If you have so much evidence, you don’t need this keenly disreputable syringe. If I may explain further, your honor, this syringe was found by a so-called Dumpster diver, basically a homeless person living off the trash of others.”
“Which does not in any way impugn his testimony,” Jazlyn insisted. “We can’t all live on a yacht and drive a Bentley.”
Ooh, nice burn. “My sailboat is not a yacht, but that’s beside the point. The witness says he found the syringe in the trash bin outside the home where my client was staying, but we have only his word for that. And many people lived in that house. And the prints are sketchy and uncertain. And the prosecution isn’t even sure about the cause of death. Bottom line, your honor, this evidence is far more likely to confuse than to assist. The court should apply a balancing test, and the balance will come down against this evidence.”
Judge Smulders raised a finger. “Balancing test. I remember hearing that phrase in law school.”
Which apparently was about ten minutes ago. “Furthermore, there is the matter of payment. The prosecution paid this man for his testimony.”
“Now wait just a minute,” Jazlyn said. “I explained the situation in detail in my brief. The witness was in a bad way when he came to the police and he requested assistance. We provided food and clothing and a motel room where he could stay temporarily. We did not give him money.”
“No, you gave him something far more valuable. But the point is, he was compensated for his testimony. More to the point, he came looking for compensation, knowing he’d have to give you something good to get it. He’s basically a jailhouse snitch, except he’s on the streets rather than behind bars.”
“All we did was give the man clean clothes and a place to sleep.”
“Which for someone in his situation, was manna from heaven.”
Judge Smulders raised his hands. “Please slow down. This is getting confusing.” He frowned, deep lines creasing his forehead. “Can’t you just...bring all this up during the trial, Mr. Pike? Let the jury decide?”
“Exactly,” Jazlyn said. “Trust the citizens of this county. Let them decide whether the evidence is credible or not.”
“That’s not the best approach, your honor. The jury will have enough to deal with. Let’s make this a little simpler.” He paused, then played his trump card. “After all, a man’s life is on the line here.”
Judge Smulders’ face turned pale white. “Well, gosh. I just—I’m not sure—” Again his eyes drifted.
To his right, at her desk, his clerk Bertha raised her hand to cover her mouth, then muttered—quietly, but not so imperceptibly that everyone didn’t hear it. “More probative than prejudicial.”
Judge Smulders snapped to attention. “Yes, that’s it. This evidence may not be perfect, but it’s more probative than prejudicial.”
Bertha’s hand didn’t move, but her lips did. “Cross-examine.”
The judge nodded his head furiously. “And you’ll have a chance to cross-examine at trial, right? You can bring out any problems you have with the evidence then.”
He’d never seen anything like this in his life. Mortimer Snerd as death-penalty judge.
More rumbling from the clerk’s desk. “Renew motion.”
The judge smiled enthusiastically. “And you can renew this motion at trial, if it appears that the evidence is more prejudicial or not so probative.”
But by that point, the irreparable damage will already be done. “There’s no point asking the jury to disregard something they’ve heard, your honor. It only reinforces it in their brains.”
“Still, I think this the way to go. So, sorry Charlie, but I think this means your motion is overruled. Right? You lose. She wins. No hard feelings, ok?”
He literally did not know what to say.
“Thank you, your honor,” Jazlyn said.
The judge wiped his brow. “Whew. Glad that’s over. Okay, if there’s, like, anything else we need to deal with, then—wait.” He reached under his robe and withdrew his cell phone. “Oh gosh. People are yakking about this case online. Should I do a gag order or something?”
He thought for a moment. That would certainly create confusion. But it would also create delay, and he wanted this trial to stay on track. “I don’t think you can halt a Twitterstorm, your honor.”
“Probably right.” He tapped his phone a few more times. “Wow. Maria Morales. Isn’t she a member of your firm, Mr. Pike?”
“Ye-ess...”
Judge Smulders smiled. “We’re Facebook friends.”
Did that mean they would win the trial, or lose it?
Jazlyn spoke. “Is that...completely appropriate, your honor?”
He shook his head. “Oh, don’t fuss. I have 420 Facebook friends.”
“Still...”
“And I’ll accept you too, Ms. Prentice, if you care to follow me. Boost my numbers. Yay.” He looked away from his phone. “Anything else, lawyers?”
“Not at this time, your honor.”
“We’re going to start the trial on Monday morning, right? You’ll be ready, Mr. Pike?”
“I will be, your honor.” And be sure to bring your clerk, so you can get past the first objection.