Until the Final Verdict (20 page)

Griffith smiled. “I'll rephrase. Did my client ever tell you she was depressed?”

“No.”

“That life wasn't worth living?”

“No.”

“That she didn't care about watching her daughter, Emma, grow up?”

“No.”

“That she might commit suicide?”

“No.”

“So, to your knowledge, there's no rational basis for believing Kathryn intentionally overdosed herself on digitalis?”

Skinner looked at Kathryn for the first time. “Not unless she wanted to make it look like Doctor Simmons had tried to kill her.”

Griffith stopped, started to speak, but didn't. Kathryn clenched her fists and squeezed her eyes shut.

“No further questions.”

When Griffith sat down, Kathryn slid her chair close. “Jesus Christ, Roger!” Kathryn's voice rose. “McCaskill must've coached her to not appear reticent, to look like she's just doing her duty by answering questions and telling the truth. He anticipated that last question, wrote out the answer for her, and ordered her to practice until she recited it in her sleep.”

“You're right, that's what I'd've done.”

“And you walked into it like a goddamn brainless insect flies without looking into a Venus flytrap.”

“I screwed up asking her that last question.”

“You sure did, and you might as well have rolled my gurney into the death chamber.”

“E
VERYTHING OKAY,
E
M
?
You haven't talked since we got here, or eaten a bite.”

“We used to come here with Mom on Fridays.”

Dave set the half-eaten burrito on his plate and glanced around Sophia's Taqueria, which was almost empty. “I know, it was—it's our favorite place.”

“I miss her.”

“Me, too. Is that why you're so quiet?”

“I s'pose.”

“Did something happen at school today?”

Emma dipped a chip in the fiery hot red salsa, nibbled it, and sipped her Coke. “Yeah.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

Emma pulled the crumpled front page of that morning's newspaper headline from her backpack and handed it to him.

EX-DA GOES ON TRIAL

Friday March 15

This morning, District Attorney Neal McCaskill will call his first witness against ex-DA Kathryn Mackay, who is accused of murdering ex-lover and County Health Officer Robert Simmons. Sources close to the DA say the first prosecution witness will be Mackay's close friend, Chief Deputy DA Mary Skinner.

McCaskill says he is confident that the evidence against Mackay will lead to a conviction for murder with special circumstances and execution in San Quentin's death chamber. . . .

“Where'd you get this?” Dave asked.

Tears welled in her brown eyes, ran down her freckled cheeks, and dripped onto her cheese quesadilla. “Someone taped it to my locker during lunch. I hate them!”

“Hate who?”

“All the kids at my school.”

“It was only one kid, Em, you can't be angry at everyone. Besides, your mom needs our help to get through this, and you can't help her if you're angry. Can you put your anger behind you for her sake?”

“I'll try.”

“I know you will.” Dave walked around the table, pulled her close, and stroked her hair. “Did you tell the principal about it?”

“No.”

“How come?”

“ 'Cause she prob'ly thinks Mom killed Doctor Simmons, too. ‘Convicted' means ‘guilty,' huh?”

“Yeah.”

She freed herself and sat up straight. “If she's convicted, will they . . .”

She pointed to the words
execution in San Quentin's death chamber,
which someone had underlined in red.

Dave ripped the paper into tiny pieces and wadded them up. “I don't know.”

“Let's ask Mr. Griffith.”

“He won't know, either, Em. If she's convicted, it'll be up to the jury.”

“Mom wouldn't kill anyone. You have to prove she didn't do it.” Tears welled in her eyes again and she grabbed his hand.

He started to shake his head.

“Mom said you're the best detective she ever knew.”

“I'm not sure . . .”

“You can do it. Please! Me and you're all Mom's got!”

“Emma—all right.”

“Can we visit her tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

“Sunday, too?”

“Absolutely, Sunday too.”

A
FTER THEY LEFT
Sophia's, Dave drove to Baskin-Robbins, then to Ashley's to bring her home for a sleepover.

Dave had moved Emma's furniture into his spare bedroom, painted it powder blue, and installed a separate telephone line, trying to make her feel at home, but he wasn't sure he'd succeeded. He had no such doubts about her yellow Lab. Sam had trotted from room to room, sniffing every inch of the house, then plopped down in Emma's room, staking it out as his territory.

They were eating ice-cream and watching television when the phone rang. Sam followed Dave into the kitchen, hoping for a taste of the French vanilla.

“Granz.”

“Roger Griffith. You heard about Skinner's testimony today?”

“Yeah, Kate said it didn't go too well.”

“Gross understatement. And I've got more bad news.”

“Why doesn't that surprise me?”

“I lost my motion to keep you off the witness stand.”

“Shit!” Granz slammed his fist on the countertop.

Sam cringed, so he set his ice-cream bowl on the floor.

“What the hell happened to the privilege to not testify against my wife?”

“Keefe ruled McCaskill could call you as a witness under an exception to the privilege.”

“What exception?”

“McCaskill claims Kathryn planned in advance to murder Simmons, and married you so you couldn't testify against her if it came to trial. Keefe says it fits under Evidence Code section 972-F.”

“That's bullshit. I've got a privilege to refuse to disclose communications made in confidence between Kate and me while we were husband and wife.”

“There's no privilege if the communication was intended to enable someone to commit a crime.”

“More legal bullshit. I didn't aid or abet any fucking murder.”

“The exception's broader than that.”

“Appeal Keefe's ruling.”

“Wouldn't do any good. You're gonna have to testify, just don't help the son of a bitch.”

“Count on it.”

“I need you to do something for us.”

“Name it.”

“The attendant on that flight from London no longer works for British Air, and my investigator ran into a dead end. Find her.”

“What for? She's not on McCaskill's witness list.”

“That's what bothers me.”

“What'd she tell his inspectors?”

“Nobody cut a report on an interview with her. Or if they did, they're keeping it from me.”

“Maybe they couldn't find her, either.”

“McCaskill wouldn't let that slide. He talked to her, all right.”

“Mac's not stupid enough to break the discovery laws.”

“Stupid no, but he hates Kathryn enough to do just about anything. If he talked to that stew, I want to know what she told him.”

Granz thought. “Your investigator didn't find out where she went from British Air?”

“They won't give us that information without a court order, and I can't get one over the weekend.”

“I'll bet she's still flying—how about the other carriers?”

“They won't tell him anything, either, but they'll cooperate with you, you're law enforcement. If you don't locate her, nobody can.”

“I'll try.”

“Trying's not good enough. My gut instinct tells me Kathryn's case depends on what that stew has to say.”

“I'll find her.”

“You'd better, because Kathryn's case is headed down the toilet, and right now I can't save her.”

G
RANZ WAITED
until the jurors had filed in and were settling into their chairs before he rushed into the courtroom, leaned over the railing between the spectators and the defense table, and kissed Kathryn.

“You look pretty.”

Kathryn was wearing a new light gray Gianni pants suit with a black silk blouse that Dave and Emma had bought for her at Macy's, and shown her for approval Saturday at the jail. Her hair was brushed straight back, and her makeup was flawless.

“Thanks.” She held his hand. “I felt so awful after Mary Elizabeth's testimony last Friday, but seeing you and Em over the weekend helped a lot.”

He patted her shoulder and slipped a paper to Roger Griffith.

Griffith read it quickly. “You located the flight attendant?”

“Yeah, she's flying for Air Canada out of Vancouver, B.C. I'll track her down once I'm through testifying.”

“P
LEASE STATE YOUR FULL NAME,
and spell your last name for the court reporter,” McCaskill said.

“David Granz, G-R-A-N-Z.”

“What is your occupation?”

“Santa Rita County Sheriff-Coroner.”

“When were you elected to that position?”

“November of last year.”

“How long have you been a peace officer?”

“More than twenty years.”

“Has all your law enforcement experience been in Santa Rita County?”

“Yes.”

“Describe that experience for the jury, please.”

“I was Sheriff's Chief of Detectives before I ran for office, and a DA Investigator before that. Previously, I was a street cop—a Sheriff's patrol deputy.”

“During your more than twenty years as a peace officer, has the prosecution ever called you to testify in court?”

“Many times.”

“On those occasions, did you meet with the prosecutors to discuss your testimony before testifying in court?”

“Yes.”

“Did you receive requests to meet and discuss today's testimony with me before appearing?”

“Yes.”

“What was your response to those requests?”

“I refused to meet with you.”

“That's right, you did, so let's get right to the reason for those refusals. You're acquainted with the defendant, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Describe your relationship to the defendant.”

Granz looked at Kathryn before answering. “She's my wife.”

“When were you married?”

“The morning of January twelfth.”

“The day Doctor Robert Simmons was murdered?”

“The day he died.”

“Right. With whom does the defendant's twelve-year-old daughter live while her mother is in custody on murder charges?”

“Me.”

“How did that come about?”

“It's what Emma, Kathryn, and I felt was best, and what the juvenile court ordered, as you know.”

McCaskill turned to the bench. “In view of the witness's
bias resulting from his relationship with the defendant, permission to examine Sheriff Granz as a hostile witness.”

Keefe nodded. “Granted.”

“You're aware that the defendant once had a romantic and sexual affair with Doctor Robert Simmons, are you not?”

“Yes.”

“You're also aware that just days after Judge Jemima Tucker was murdered, the defendant claims she received an anonymous tip about Doctor Simmons' whereabouts?”

“Yes.”

“You and she flew to Spain together to apprehend him, despite the urgency of the Tucker murder investigation?”

“If we hadn't, my detective and her investigator would have been pulled off the Tucker investigation.”

“Because of Judge Tucker's prominent position, didn't you consider her murder a high-priority investigation?”

Granz leaned forward in the witness chair. “They're all high-priority investigations, no matter who the victim is.”

McCaskill turned to Keefe. “Judge, please instruct the witness to answer the question rather than make a speech.”

“The witness is so admonished. Continue.”

“When you and the defendant arrived in Torremolinos, Doctor Simmons was in Spanish police custody, right?”

“Yes.”

“You interviewed Doctor Simmons?”

“Yes.”

“You consulted with the defendant before and during that interview?”

“Yes.”

McCaskill flipped through a yellow legal pad. “Your report says Doctor Simmons agreed to be extradited if the defendant agreed not to seek the death penalty, is that right?”

“That's right.”

“You recommended she make that agreement?”

“Yes.”

“In fact, you talked her into it, didn't you?”

Dave hesitated. “We discussed it.”

“All right. Would you say that at first, she was reluctant to accept his offer?”

“I'd say so.”

“And after you discussed it with her, she finally agreed?”

“That's right.”

“Was she reluctant because she wanted very badly for Doctor Simmons to die?”

“You'd have to ask her.”

“Uh-huh. You had a conversation with Chief Deputy Skinner, in her office, the day after you and the defendant returned from Spain?”

Granz shifted in the chair and glanced at Skinner, who sat at the prosecution table beside McCaskill.

“Yes.”

“During that conversation, did Ms. Skinner express surprise, and ask how you convinced her boss to
waive the death penalty against Doctor Simmons?”

“She asked if I knew why.”

“Did you tell her that during your interview of Doctor Robert Simmons in the jail at Torremolinos, you talked the defendant into waiving the death penalty?”

“I didn't talk her into it.”

“That wasn't the question—I asked whether or not you
told
Chief Deputy Skinner you talked her into it.”

“I might have.”

“And that before you discussed it with her, the defendant was very reluctant to waive the death penalty, agreeing only after she talked with you at considerable length?”

“It's possible I told her that.”

Griffith shook his head. “Didn't you also tell Ms. Skinner that you became exasperated with the defendant and told her she couldn't be Doctor Simmons' judge, jury, and executioner?”

Granz turned his eyes to the defense table, hoping an objection would prevent him from walking into McCaskill's trap, but he knew no help would come.

“Yes.”

“What did you tell Chief Deputy Skinner the defendant said in response to your admonition?”

Dave looked at Kathryn, closed his eyes, and reopened them slowly. “That she said,
‘Yes I can.' ”

“Just two more questions, Sheriff. You and the defendant were married the morning following the conversation that you related to Chief Deputy Skinner, is that right?”

“Yes.”

“And Doctor Robert Simmons was murdered later that same day?”

“He died later that same day.”

McCaskill stared at the jury for several seconds, then turned to the bench. “No more questions at this time.”

“May this witness be excused?” Keefe asked.

“No, Your Honor, I plan to recall this witness.”