Capitol Murder (3 page)

Then there were the murders themselves. The
Erickson
case was indisputably a frame-up, so why not the rest? The killer’s victims had been abducted, then tortured in the most unspeakable ways for days on end. After meeting with Clarence for more than a year, Millie found it impossible to believe that he could do the horrible things of which he was accused. Spurred on by love and the knowledge that she was serving Justice by righting a great wrong, Millie had put together the best brief she had ever written, and everyone said she had been brilliant during the hearing. Clarence had brought out the best in her, and she was so certain she’d win that she had started fantasizing about further victories at Clarence’s retrials, ending with the star-crossed lovers united with no bars or bulletproof glass to keep them apart.

Millie lived in an old brick apartment house just off Twenty-third Street. It was a little pricey because of the location, but it was one of the few luxuries she allowed herself. The furniture was secondhand and the art on the walls was reproductions or posters. There was a dining area, but Millie rarely entertained, and she ate her meals at a table in the small kitchen. Tea and toast was all she could handle this morning, but she enjoyed reading the paper because the
Oregonian
had a special feature about Clarence’s case in the Metro section, and she was mentioned several times.

Millie had bought a new outfit for court and had gone to the beauty parlor to have her hair straightened to take out the frizz. After she applied her makeup, she rehearsed the speech she would make to the reporters after her victory, watching her facial expressions in her bathroom mirror to make sure they were just right. Then she dressed in a black business suit and sky blue silk shirt. She hoped she looked professional for the cameras, but more important was looking good for Clarence when she met with him at the penitentiary in the afternoon to tell him that he was one step closer to freedom.

T
he Marion County Circuit Court heard all postconviction cases because the state penitentiary was in Salem, Oregon’s capital, and Salem was in Marion County. The Marion County courthouse, a dull white steel-and-glass building, was an example of fifties functional government architecture, and Judge Case’s courtroom was as sexy as a DMV office, but Millie couldn’t care less about her surroundings. The spectator section was packed with reporters and the curious, and every eye, including Millie’s, was focused on the overweight, gray-haired man in the black robe who was seated behind the bench.

“The issue before me is whether Clarence Little’s convictions for the murders of Winona Benford and Carol Poole must be reversed because evidence concerning the murder of Laurie Erickson was introduced by the prosecution at those trials,” Judge Case began.

“This is an extremely troubling matter. I would say that it is the most troubling case I have handled in thirty-two years on the bench. The person responsible for the murders of these innocent young women is no common criminal; he is a monster and deserves the most severe punishment the law permits. But our Constitution requires that all trials be fair, no matter who the defendant is, and my job is to study what happened in these two trials to make certain that they meet the requirements of the constitutions of Oregon and the United States.

“In my written opinion, I have set out in great detail the evidence in Mr. Little’s trials. There are great similarities in all of the crimes in the way these women were abducted, the method of torture, and of course, there is the signature removal of the victim’s pinkie in each case. Yet the state concedes that Mr. Little is unquestionably innocent of murdering Miss Erickson.

“Laurie Erickson’s case was one of the most highly publicized cases in recent history. Not only did it attract local interest, but it was reported nationally and internationally. Miss Erickson was abducted from the Governor’s Mansion while Christopher Farrington was the governor of this state. Mr. Little’s separate trials for the murders of Winona Benford, Carol Poole, and Miss Erickson took place while Mr. Farrington was the vice president of the United States.

“Mr. Little was prosecuted first for murdering Miss Benford and was convicted. He was then tried for killing Miss Poole. After he was convicted in that case, he was tried for the murder of Miss Erickson. Evidence from all three murders was introduced at each trial on the theory that the method used by the killer in all three murders was so similar that only one person could have committed all three crimes, something we now know may not be true.

“After a thorough reading of the record, I cannot in good conscience conclude that the evidence from the
Erickson
case that was introduced in Mr. Little’s other trials did not affect the verdicts in those trials. Therefore, I hold that the verdicts in those cases must be set aside and the cases must be remanded to the circuit courts in the counties that tried them for whatever action the district attorneys in those counties deem appropriate.

“I hold further that no evidence from the
Erickson
case may be introduced at any retrial of the remaining cases.”

Judge Case spoke for ten more minutes, but his words did not register. The moment the judge ruled for Clarence, Millie’s heart soared high above the courtroom and she lost focus. She’d won the most important case of her life. She was a success. The horde of reporters who bombarded her with questions as soon as court was adjourned reinforced her belief that her life had turned a corner.

M
illie parked her car in the visitors’ lot at the Oregon State Penitentiary. Walls topped with razor wire and guarded by gun towers loomed above her as she walked down the lane that led from the lot to the prison’s front door. Millie had no time to contemplate her somber surroundings because more reporters rushed to interview her.

Millie made a brief statement, then went into the prison reception area. She was enjoying her fame, but she was relieved that she would not have to give any more interviews for a while. Millie told the guard at the reception desk that she was there to meet with her client, Clarence Little. Then she took a seat on a green prison-made couch and started reading Judge Case’s lengthy written opinion.

When the guard called Millie’s name, she went through the metal detector. Her heart beat faster as she walked down a ramp that ended at a set of steel bars. The guard signaled to another guard in a control room, and the bars rolled aside. Millie entered a holding area and waited until the first bars rolled back in place and a second set opened to admit her to a short hallway. Millie had visited Clarence several times and she knew the routine. Her escort led her down the hall and opened a thick metal door. She entered the visiting area, but instead of being taken into a large open room with couches, tables, and vending machines, where a number of prisoners played with their children or talked to loved ones, she was led to a second visiting area reserved for prisoners deemed too dangerous to be permitted into the open area. Windows made of bulletproof glass were set in two of the walls. Visitors sat on folding chairs and talked to the prisoner on a phone receiver fixed to the wall.

At the end were two rooms set aside for attorney-client visits with death-row inmates. The rooms were barely large enough to accommodate a bridge chair. The guard ushered Millie inside one of them. Her chair faced a glass window set in concrete blocks painted institutional brown. A slot for passing papers had been built into the bottom of the window, and a metal ledge just wide enough to accommodate a legal pad jutted out from the wall beneath the window.

Millie was sick with excitement as she waited for Clarence. On the other side of the glass was an identical closet-size concrete-block room. A metal door in the back wall of the other room opened, and two guards led Clarence in. One of them unlocked his shackles, and the other handed him a file stuffed with legal papers.

Clarence was five eleven and wiry, with wavy brown hair and gray-blue eyes. Millie thought he was very handsome. As soon as he sat down, she picked up the receiver attached to the wall on her side of the glass and pressed it to her ear. Clarence flashed a big smile and she felt as if she could float.

“You look very nice,” Clarence said as soon as the door closed behind the guards. “Is that a new suit? I don’t think I’ve seen you in it before.”

Millie was thrilled that Clarence had noticed. “I bought it this week so I’d look good in court.”

He examined her thoughtfully. “Stand up and turn around for me.”

Millie blushed. “I couldn’t.”

“Please,” Clarence said with a warm smile. “I love to look at you.”

Millie stood, but she was too embarrassed to meet Clarence’s eye, so she looked at the floor as she turned slowly, the way she’d seen the fashion models she so envied make a turn on a reality television show she watched religiously.

“You did something to your hair, didn’t you?”

Millie blushed and nodded.

“You look better every time I see you,” Clarence said.

“You don’t have to say those things. I know I’m a little heavy and . . .”

“Don’t run yourself down,” Clarence said angrily. “You have a great body. You’re no string bean like those ridiculous women in the magazines. You’re a real woman.”

Millie didn’t know what to say. The only other person who had ever complimented her figure was her college boyfriend. She doubted he had been sincere. In retrospect, it was obvious that he had flattered her so he could get her into bed.

Before that train of thought could travel very far, Millie remembered why she was in the prison. She broke into a grin, unable to contain her excitement.

“I have wonderful news.”

“I know,” Clarence said. “You won my postconviction cases. Thanks to you, the circuit court set aside my convictions.”

Millie looked disappointed that her news wasn’t a surprise. “How did you find out? The judge only ruled an hour ago. I rushed over to tell you.”

“And I appreciate that, but the prison grapevine is better than the Internet. It’s hard to keep news like this quiet. But I don’t know how you won. That’s what I’m waiting to hear.”

“It was the
Erickson
case. The prosecutor introduced evidence about Erickson’s murder when he prosecuted you for the murders of the other two women, but you were framed in that case.”

“And the others, Millie,” Little reminded her.

“I know, Clarence.”

“Go on. Tell me how you pulled off this miracle.”

“Judge Case held that the introduction of manufactured evidence from such a high-profile case was so prejudicial that reversal was required even though the prosecutor introduced the evidence with a good faith belief that you had committed the crime.”

Clarence listened intently as Millie went over the judge’s opinion in detail. When she was finished, he grinned. Then he pressed his hand to the glass. “You are brilliant, Millie. I knew it the first time we talked. I don’t think anyone else could have won my case.”

Millie blushed and placed her hand over his. There was a pane of cool glass between them but Millie’s hand felt hot, as if Clarence were able to irradiate her skin with his love.

“What’s next?” he asked.

“New trials in the
Benford
and
Poole
cases in which the state will be barred from introducing any evidence about Laurie Erickson.”

“Can I count on you to represent me?”

Millie had daydreamed about winning acquittals in Clarence’s trials but she was suddenly overwhelmed by insecurity.

“I don’t know, Clarence. Maybe I shouldn’t. I have very little trial experience, and trying a capital case . . . I don’t know if I can do it.”

“Of course you can. Look what you’ve done already. You’re a special person, Millie, and this victory proves that you’re a great lawyer.”

“I’ll have to think about handling the retrials,” Millie said. “I’d feel terrible if I lost your case because I wasn’t up to the job. If you ended up back on death row because of me, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

“I don’t want to force you to be my attorney if you’re not comfortable. But when you’re deciding, know that I have complete faith in you. You are my first choice.”

Millie swallowed. She didn’t want to let Clarence down. In her fantasies, she was Perry Mason incarnate, but when she thought about her abilities seriously, she had real concerns about handling a death-penalty murder case. Clarence leaned forward and spoke into the receiver in a low, confidential tone.

“Do you know why I want you and you alone to be my lawyer? I need you because you believe in me. Another lawyer will take the case for the publicity. He will assume I’m guilty. But you know I’m innocent, and that will communicate to the jurors. They will sense the insincerity in those other lawyers, but they will believe what you say because they will see that your words come from your heart.”

“But what if . . .” Millie started. Clarence shook his head.

“There are no ifs, Millie. The woman who convinced Judge Case to overturn the verdicts in my case is a master of the law and has no peers. How often do lawyers succeed in postconviction appeals? I’ll tell you. The rate of success is minuscule. Yet you won. And you will be victorious when we go into court together.” Clarence pressed his fist to his chest. “I know it in my heart.”

Millie’s eyes filled with tears of joy. No man had ever spoken to her like this. She was so choked up that she couldn’t speak. Clarence smiled.

“Before I met you, I only had death to look forward to. Do you know what gives me hope when I’m locked down in my cell? When I start to get depressed, I think about sharing my freedom with you.

“When I’m free, we’ll go away together to some warm place with white sand beaches and palm trees, and we’ll lie in the sun and I’ll be able to forget this nightmare. Will you be there with me, Millie?”

“Yes, I will. And we will win. I know it.”

“Good girl. That’s the Millie Reston I’ve come to admire. Be strong and we will prevail.”

They smiled at each other. Then Clarence whispered, “Did you bring your legal memo?”