Broken Promises (12 page)

“In your professional opinion, do you find that most husbands are aware of the drugs their wives are allergic to?” Lydia questioned.

“Well, when it’s a drug that can cause death, yes,” the doctor said.

“Objection,” Greg called, “opinion. I doubt if the good doctor has actually done a study on the information offered by spouses to determine the percentage of accuracy.”

“I did ask for her opinion, your honor,” Lydia reiterated. “I did not ask for statistics or evidentiary information.”

“Overruled,” the judge agreed. “You may continue with your questioning.”

“Actually, I’ve completed my questions for the witness, your honor,” Lydia said.

“Mr. Thanner, your witness,” the judge indicated.

Greg stood, scraping his chair against the wood floor of the courtroom. He flipped through a manila file for a moment and then made his way around the desk to the front of the witness station. “Dr. Drummond, did Dr. Copper in any way suggest that you give her the Syntometrine?” he asked.

The doctor shook her head. “No, of course not,” she said. “He wasn’t even in the labor room with us.”

“So, he was not even in the same room with you when Jeannine Alden died? Wasn’t even aware of the procedure you were going to perform on her?” the attorney asked pointedly.

“No, because of the risk involved with her delivery, we had him wait outside,” she said.

“No further questions,” the attorney said. “You may step down.”

Several hours later, after a number of witnesses testified, including Jeannine’s parents, Bradley and Jeannine’s neighbors and coworkers, the court called a recess. Mary, Bradley, Sean and Ian found an antechamber where they could talk away from the interrogation of the news reporters.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” Sean said. “I want to see if I can pull Bernie in here.”

Sean closed the door behind him and made his way quickly through the crowd. Bernie was next to the staircase plugging some quarters into the pop machine. Sean came up behind him. “I hear that stuff is like embalming fluid to your insides,” he said.

The vending machine whirred and the can tumbled down to the opening. Bernie picked it up, popped back the tab and took a large gulp. “Yeah, don’t I know it,” he said with a smile. “But I think of it this way; it saves a lot of time in the end.”

Sean grinned. “You did good on the stand,” he said, patting the large man’s arm. “Real good.”

“You know why I never became a lawyer?” Bernie asked.

“Because you weren’t smart enough?” Sean responded with a grin.

Bernie chuckled. “No, because I like to uncover all the truth, not just the pieces I want the jury to see,” he said. “That defense attorney’s not doing an autopsy; he’s not even shaving all the hair off the body. He’s just slapping make-up on a corpse and calling it a day.”

Sean nodded. “He’s doing his job, whether we like it or not.”

“I felt like a trained monkey in there,” Bernie grumbled, taking another sip of cola. “It’s not a feeling I like.”

Sean looked up and saw several members of the media making their way towards them. “Hey, Bernie, we got a nice quiet room down the hall, away from the news hounds,” he said. “Why don’t you come on down? I know that Mary wanted to talk to you.”

Bernie nodded. “Yeah, sure, that’d be great,” he said. “It’ll keep me from putting my foot in my mouth.”

Sean grinned and guided him back into the room.

“It’s like a feeding frenzy out there,” Bernie said as they closed the door. “How are you guys holding up?”

“Ah, well, just fine, if you don’t mind watching a fairy tale come alive before you,” Ian complained. “By the end of the day, they’ll be giving the man a medal instead of locking him in the deep, dark place he belongs.”

Bernie shrugged. “I did the best I could do. I know it wasn’t…”

Ian put his hand on Bernie’s shoulder. “You did a great job,” he said. “You got in more information than anyone else has been allowed to. You gave that lawyer a run for his money and we’re all grateful to you. It just burns me to see the way he’s being portrayed.”

“Well, don’t worry,” Sean said. “Once Bradley takes the stand, things will get cleared up.”

There was a quick knock on the door and Sean opened it to see the bailiff standing outside. “Court’s about to resume,” he said. “We need you to take your seats.”

Mary grasped Bradley’s hand quickly, squeezed it and then let it go. “For luck,” she said.

“Thanks, I think I’m going to need it,” he replied.

Once inside the courtroom, Bradley was called to the stand and sworn in. He sat tall in the chair and looked slowly around the courtroom. He looked at the jury, their eyes focused on the attorney. Bradley could see the attorney had them captivated with his version of the story. Then he looked over at Gary, who sat calm and relaxed in his chair. Gary met Bradley’s eyes and nodded his head slightly and smirked at him.

He knows he’s winning
, Bradley thought, his blood boiling.
Well, I’m not going to let that bastard get away with killing my wife.

Lydia approached Bradley. “Chief Alden, how do you know Dr. Gary Copper?”

“He was a neighbor of mine in Sycamore,” Bradley answered. “And he is the man who kidnapped and killed my wife.”

Members of the jury inhaled sharply, but the attorney did not object.

“Chief Alden, weren’t you in fact more than just neighbors with Dr. Copper?” he asked. “Didn’t you consider him a close friend of both yourself and your wife?”

“A trusted friend,” he admitted. “He and his wife, Beverly, were invited to our home many times.”

“Could you please tell us what happened at your home eight years ago?”

“I was on patrol,” he explained. “I was an officer for the Sycamore Police Department. And we received a call about a home invasion. Then the dispatcher gave us the address and I realized it was my home. I rushed to the scene and found my house had been broken into, our possessions scattered and my wife was missing.”

“How did you react?” Lydia asked.

“I beg your pardon, but how do you think I reacted?” he said. “My wife was pregnant. We had just found out we were having a baby girl. Just purchased the pink paint for the nursery. I was frantic. I searched through the house again, even though other officers had done the same.”

“When did you stop searching?” Lydia asked.

“I searched for seven years,” he said. “Gave up my job, my pension, my savings in order to find my wife. I followed every lead I could, searched morgues for Jane Does, and did everything I could. Until I realized I had no more leads and had done all I could. That’s when I took the job in Freeport, as police chief.”

“What led you to the discovery of Gary Copper’s relationship with your wife?”

“I hired a private investigator and she discovered that Gary drugged Jeannine with Valium and kept her in a subterranean room, underneath his office, until she was in labor. Then, in a panic, he brought her to Cook County Hospital, so no one would know who he was. When she died, he buried her using his wife’s name.”

“Wouldn’t his wife object to that?”

“She probably would have if he didn’t have his wife and their baby stuffed into the freezer in his basement at his home,” Bradley stated.

The jury and the courtroom audience gasped.

“Objection,” Greg called. “Inadmissible evidence.”

“I was there! I saw the bodies!” Bradley countered, leaning forward on the stand.

Greg ignored Bradley and spoke directly to the judge. “Chief Alden entered the home without a warrant and with no probable cause that a crime was being committed.”

“There was probable cause,” Lydia argued. “Mary O’Reilly had been kidnapped by Copper, the same way he took Jeannine.”

Lumbering up from his seat, Greg leaned forward on his desk. “And what proof do you have that Dr. Copper did that, Ms. Meyer?” he asked. “None that you’ve presented to the bench.”

“The police found Ms. O’Reilly at Dr. Copper’s office after she had been forcibly removed from her home,” Lydia countered.

“My client told me that Ms. O’Reilly seduced him and coerced him to take her back to his office,” Greg said with a mocking sneer. “Something about always wanting to do it in a dentist chair.”

“What the hell!” Bradley shouted, standing up in his chair and lunging towards Greg. The big man jumped back and knocked his chair over.

“Order!” the judge shouted, as she rapped her gavel sharply on the desk. “Order in this court!”

Bradley sat down slowly, his glare never leaving Greg’s face. Mopping his forehead again, Greg took a deep shaky breath. “Permission to approach the bench,” he stammered.

Nodding, the judge motioned to Lydia. “I think it would be a good idea for both of you to approach.”

When the lawyers stood in front of the judge she glared at Greg. “If I ever hear about you goading a witness as you just did with Chief Alden, I will have you disbarred. Do you understand me?”

Greg nodded. “Yes, your honor.”

Then she turned to Lydia. “Do you have any evidence that Gary Copper kidnapped and kept Jeannine Alden against her will?”

“We have DNA evidence that she was down there,” Lydia said. “But because she died, we only have circumstantial evidence.”

“So, Chief Alden acted on circumstantial evidence and did not obtain a warrant before entering Dr. Copper’s home,” she summarized.

Lydia paused and then sighed. “Yes your honor.”

“Counselor, you are going to have to do a lot better than that if you are going to win your case,” she stated. “Now, let’s proceed.”

Greg returned to his seat and Lydia walked back over to Bradley. She shook her head and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“The jury will disregard the information stated by the witness in regards to the contents of Dr. Copper’s residence. A warrant was not obtained and therefore any evidence is inadmissible to this court.”

“Chief Alden, when did you discover Dr. Copper had buried your wife using the name Beverly Copper?” she asked.

“A month ago we obtained a court order to have the body exhumed,” he said. “The Cook County Coroner was able to perform a DNA test and confirm she was indeed Jeannine Alden, my wife.”

“How long had your wife been dead?” she asked.

Bradley started to speak, but his voice cracked and he stopped and cleared his throat. “She was buried five months after the breakin,” he said. “I searched for her for years, not knowing she was already dead and resting in a cemetery in Cook County. I searched for her, not knowing that our baby girl had been given up for adoption.”

“Thank you, Chief Alden, no more questions.”

“Mr. Thanner, would you like to cross-examine?”

Greg stood up. “Yes, your honor, I would,” he said.

Staying safely behind his desk, Greg addressed Bradley. “Dr. Copper was your trusted friend for years, was he not?”

Bradley nodded tightly, “That was before I found out he was a psychopath.”

“Chief Alden, do you have any psychological training that would allow you to classify anyone, including my client, as a psychopath?” he asked.

Bradley shook his head. “No official training, just years on the police force,” he replied.

The attorney smiled and nodded. He reached forward and picked up a manila folder. “Ah, yes, your years on the force,” he repeated, holding the folder in one hand and waving it towards Bradley. “It’s funny you should mention that.”

He walked slowly up to the stand. “According to your personnel records, in fact, you were the person who was deemed mentally unstable,” the attorney said. “Let me read the exact words the police psychologist used in your fitness for duty evaluation, “Officer Alden has become psychologically impaired and it is our recommendation that he be restricted to desk duty. His behavior is obsessive, aggressive and compulsive. He is also showing minor signs of paranoia in regards to the work of his fellow officers.”

The attorney looked up at Bradley. “Do you recall this evaluation?” he asked.

“It was given to me approximately twelve months after the disappearance of my wife,” he said. “I had been searching for her on my off hours.”

The attorney nodded. “Yes, the disappearance of your wife,” he said. “You stated that you were on duty that day and received a call of a break in. Is that correct?”

Bradley nodded. “Yes.”

“And you got to your home to find the house ransacked and your wife missing. Is that correct?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“Your police chief held you back. He kept you from entering your home. Correct?”

“That’s normal police procedure when the officer is personally connected to the crime,” Bradley explained.

“Yes, normal police procedure,” the attorney reiterated. “And is it normal police procedure for your captain to ask you if your wife could have staged the breakin in order to escape from an unhappy marriage?”

“We were not unhappy,” Bradley shouted. “We were happy. We were going to have a baby.”

The attorney picked up another folder. “If your wife was so happy, why did she seek the counsel of a divorce lawyer a year before the break in?” he asked.

Bradley took a deep breath. “We had some problems; work, scheduling, communication,” he said to the jury. “But after we saw Gary and Beverly’s marriage collapse, we decided we both needed to work harder on our relationship. When she disappeared we had no problems with our marriage. We were happy, thrilled that our baby was coming.”

The attorney shrugged. “No problems that you were aware of, perhaps,” he said. “But did it ever cross your mind, even once while you searched for your wife, that she might have staged her disappearance? Remember, Chief Alden, you are under oath.”

Bradley paused for a moment, and then slowly nodded. “Yes, it did cross my mind,” he said slowly. “But…”

“That’s all I need to hear,” the attorney interrupted.

“But…” Bradley began again.

“That’s enough, Chief Alden,” he repeated.

The attorney started sit down, then stopped and looked up. “Oh, one more thing, Chief Alden,” he said. “While you were searching for your wife for nearly eight years, you ran into some financial issues with your house payments. You were going to lose your home. Who helped you save your home? Who lent you money with no strings attached?”