Presumption of Guilt (3 page)

Dani sighed. “Let’s take one step at a time. First, let me talk to Bruce about HIPP taking the case.”

“Thank you.”

“If he gives the go-ahead, we’ll need Molly to sign a retainer letter. I assume you’ve talked to her about this.”

Donna stiffened. “Molly doesn’t speak to me.” Suddenly, the small office filled with silence. Donna stared at her hands, which were folded in her lap, then looked back up at Dani. “At first, when I thought Molly had murdered our parents, I was furious. How could she do this to me?” She shook her head. “I only thought about myself, never about what Molly was going through. Even when I learned she was pregnant, I refused to visit her in prison. In the beginning, she begged me to come. Wrote me letter after letter saying she was innocent. I never answered.

“After I married and had children of my own, I realized how cruel I’d been to her. Even if she was guilty, she was still my sister. I tried to see her then, but she wouldn’t put me on her visitor list. We haven’t seen each other or spoken since she was sent away.”

Dani eyed the woman sitting opposite her. Life seemed full of conflicting emotions, she thought. The excitement of a new job coupled with the fear of not performing well. A young teenager’s wish for independence coupled with the need for parental approval. A working mother’s enjoyment of a fulfilling career coupled with guilt for leaving her child’s care to another. Dani could see how Donna’s conflicting feelings for her sister had wreaked havoc on her. The sadness in her eyes attested to her pain.

Dani wasn’t certain where to go with this matter. The likelihood of Bruce agreeing to take it on was small, but even that slight chance disappeared if the prisoner didn’t want help.

Her intercom buzzed and broke the silence. She picked up the phone and heard her secretary say, “Don Phelps is on line three.”

“I’m finishing right now. I’ll get back to him.” When she hung up the receiver, she told Donna she’d let her know the agency’s decision, one way or the other.

“Just one more thing,” Donna said as she stood up to leave. “Whatever hard feelings Molly may have for me, only one thing matters. Sophie needs her mother. Her real mother.”

Dani returned her phone call, then dictated a letter to a prisoner whose plea for help had been granted. She enjoyed giving good news, and cringed when she had to turn down a prisoner whose case had merit. It often seemed arbitrary to her, the choices that were made, just as the justice system itself at times seemed arbitrary. Was every last defendant guilty because twelve men and women had deemed it so? Judges certainly treated it that way. A defendant who showed no remorse at sentencing was often rewarded with a stiffer term. Yet, at such times, contrition was impossible. A wrongfully convicted defendant raged at the injustice. That very rage, that lack of remorse when a jury determined guilt, led to more years behind bars. Guilt or innocence wasn’t an absolute truth. It was what a jury found as its truth.

As the afternoon wore on, Dani tried, unsuccessfully, to push back thoughts of Molly. Her love for Jonah was so overwhelming that the thought of losing him was honestly unimaginable. If Molly hadn’t murdered her parents, if she’d been thrown into a prison of hardened criminals, deprived of her youthful promise, that was an injustice. To have her daughter taken away from her, raised by another woman, made it a tragedy. Dani didn’t know if she could find out the truth. And in any event, Bruce was certain to deny her the chance to try.

Finally, her desk cleared of the pressing matters, Dani made her way back to Bruce’s office. He sat at his desk, his long legs stretched out to the side, his eyes buried in a brief.

Dani stepped inside. “Got a moment?”

Bruce put down the thick set of papers and looked up. “Sure. Take a seat.”

She eased herself into the chair opposite his desk.

“Uh-oh. Something’s bothering you,” Bruce said.

“Why do you say that?”

“Because every time you’re worried, you twirl your hair.”

Dani smiled. “I think we’ve been working together too long. You know me too well.”

“Well enough. What’s going on?”

Dani unwrapped her strands of hair, took a deep breath, and leaned forward. “Remember Molly Singer? Melanie talked to you about her case a few months ago?”

“Not really. What’s it about?”

“A young girl, at least she was young back then, when she was convicted. Just eighteen. She confessed, then recanted. Found guilty of murdering both parents and sentenced to consecutive twenty-five-to-life terms.”

Bruce was quiet for a moment, then he slowly nodded. “It rings a bell. We turned it down. No DNA in that case, if I remember correctly. Without that it would be hard to disprove. It was the sister who wrote, right?”

“Yes, that’s the case. I met with her sister today. Donna Garmond.”

Bruce looked startled. “Why? I already said no.” He already had his back up.

“I ran into her at Camp Adagio. Her daughter is a Williams syndrome child, too. I guess I felt a connection with her and didn’t want to just brush her off.”

“Okay. You’ve done your good deed and met with her. The answer is still no.”

“There’s been a new development. Donna’s received a couple of anonymous letters that suggest a new angle.”

“Unless the new angle gives the name of the real murderer and the evidence to back it up, we don’t have the resources to take it on. Send her a letter with regrets.”

“But—”

“I don’t have time to argue over this. And I didn’t think you did either. Send her a letter.” With that, Bruce picked up the brief and returned to reading. Their meeting was over.

At twenty past nine, during the time Dani and Doug called their “honeymoon hour,” when all work was pushed aside to spend time with each other, Dani lay slumped on the couch, her head leaning against Doug’s chest.

“I understand where Bruce is coming from,” she said. “We have to be practical when it comes to selecting cases. But she was just a child herself when it happened.”

“If you really want to take the case, push him back on it.”

“That’s just it. I don’t know if I want the case. I don’t even know if Molly wants HIPP to represent her. Or if I think she’s guilty. But without Bruce’s go-ahead, I can’t even do the preliminary work to figure out those questions.”

The curtains lifted with the evening breeze. Nights had finally started to cool down, and they’d been able to turn off the air conditioner. It was Dani’s favorite time of year, when the seasons passed from the hot, humid days of summer to the crisp days of autumn.

“Unless you’re going to try to persuade Bruce to reconsider, you’ve got to put her out of your mind.”

Dani agreed; she needed to move on. Change what you can, Ted Kennedy had said at his brother Robert’s funeral, and know what you can’t. The office was too busy for Bruce to alter his position. She had to accept that.

“I’m going to turn in now,” Doug said. “How about you?”

“Soon. I’ll be up in a bit.”

Dani headed to the kitchen and filled the teapot with water, then sat reading the
New York Times
as she waited for it to boil. When the familiar whistle sounded, she poured the hot water into a mug hand-painted with the words “World’s Best Mom.” It had been Jonah’s Mother’s Day gift to her when he was seven, the result of a school project. One edge was chipped, but she couldn’t bring herself to discard it. If it wasn’t in the dishwasher waiting to be cleaned, it was the first cup she grabbed when she needed a hot drink.

She dipped a green-tea bag in the water several times, discarded it, and added lemon juice. She sat back down at the kitchen table and pushed the newspaper away.

The hot steam filled her nostrils. She loved the feel of the warmth on her face, even on the hottest summer day. Usually, it soothed her. Not tonight. She couldn’t shake the look on Donna’s face as she pleaded for Dani to take her sister’s case. And she couldn’t shake the feeling that the anonymous letters were the key to something. But what?

C
HAPTER

5

I
t was Saturday, family time. Time to spend with Jonah and Doug doing typical family activities, some mundane, like shopping, some fun, like visits to the Bronx Zoo, a favorite of Jonah’s. Instead, Dani drove on the Saw Mill Parkway north to the Bedford Hills Correctional Facility. The only maximum-security prison for women in New York State was a half-hour drive from her home. Its closeness was how she justified to herself going to meet Molly Singer when she’d been expressly told to turn down her case.

She had done as instructed. A letter had gone out to Donna advising that HIPP would not represent her sister. It was only when Donna received the letter and called up, crying, begging Dani to reconsider, that she agreed to meet Molly. And didn’t tell Bruce. Instead, she sent a letter to Molly saying that she’d been asked to look into her conviction and would like to meet with her. Today she was doing so.

Traffic was light and she made good time. Dani pulled up to the visitors’ entrance just before ten a.m. She hoped to get in and out quickly and be home in time to take Jonah to the movies. Most thirteen-year-olds wouldn’t be caught dead with their parents at the movies, but Jonah still wasn’t capable of independent activities. One day, Dani hoped, but not yet.

She passed through security, then was directed to a waiting room. It was her first time in this facility—she had far more male clients than female—but it smelled like nearly every other prison she’d been in throughout the country. It had the same odor of disinfectant, used to cover something unpleasant. She couldn’t place what—maybe sweat? Urine? Rodent droppings? She entered the room, which had one couch, a low rectangular table in front of it, and numerous chairs spread about. The sign on the door read “Attorneys Only.” The room was empty, and she made herself comfortable. She pulled her iPad from her briefcase and clicked on the Kindle app, hoping to use a few moments of downtime to catch up on her reading.

“We’re ready for you now.”

Dani looked up and saw a uniformed woman standing in the doorway. She followed her down a hallway, through another security checkpoint, and then to a small room, empty except for a square table with two chairs on one side, a single chair on the other. All of the furniture was bolted to the floor. Outside, she could hear the usual prison cacophony—guards yelling, TVs blaring, metal clanging. Five minutes passed before she heard footsteps approach the door on the prisoner’s side of the room. When it opened, a female guard stepped inside, her hand on the arm of a woman whose hands were shackled. The guard nodded to Dani, then brought the prisoner over to the chair opposite Dani. She unlocked the woman’s handcuffs, then stepped outside the door, where she remained posted.

Dani was used to interviewing prisoners. Whether men or women, they usually had a pasty pallor and an institutional slump. Not Molly. Her fair complexion glowed, despite the windowless room, and her green eyes shone with a sparkle that defied her surroundings. Her blonde hair was cut short, which highlighted the perfect features of her face. She looks like an actress playing the role of a prisoner, Dani thought.

“Molly, let me begin by saying I’m here unofficially. HIPP must be very selective about the cases it accepts, and yours didn’t fall under its guidelines. I’m sorry.”

The smile on Molly’s face dimmed, then returned. “I understand. I’m just happy to have a visitor. I don’t get many now. But . . .”

“Yes?”

“Don’t get me wrong. As I said, I’m glad to see anyone. But why did you come if you can’t help me?”

“Your sister was very persistent.”

Molly squirmed in her seat, then crossed her arms over her chest. “Very guilty, you mean.”

“Guilty? Are you suggesting Donna murdered your parents?”

“Oh, no. Of course not. Donna was away at school when it happened. I meant she feels guilty that she abandoned me for so long. Did she tell you that we don’t talk anymore?”

“She did.”

“So I guess this is her way of atoning.”

“Maybe it is.”

Dani wasn’t sure herself why she was sitting across the table from this woman. Normally, she’d ask questions, try to elicit the inmate’s version of the events that led to incarceration. But to what end with Molly? Dani couldn’t take her case. Bruce hadn’t even permitted discussion of the matter.

Suddenly, Dani felt indignant. How dare Bruce dismiss her so perfunctorily! He was wrong to foreclose a conversation. All the angrier for being made to feel like a child sneaking behind her parents’ backs, Dani decided to forge ahead. Even when they accepted a case, it was always a preliminary decision. Only after they investigated the client’s claim of innocence and found grounds to believe it to be true would they make that final determination to challenge the conviction. Well, she was just doing a preliminary investigation. On her own time, to boot. Too bad if Bruce had a problem with that.

Dani looked Molly straight in the eye. So much could be read in a person’s face, she thought. Tommy Noorland, the HIPP investigator she preferred working with, believed prisoners could lie through their teeth and still look like the most innocent angel. Not Dani. There was almost always something that gave them away when lying. The smallest twitch, the tapping of their fingers, even their smile. Sure, she could be fooled. But her track record had been pretty good ever since she stopped working only on appeals and began investigating prisoners’ claims.

“Molly, defense attorneys don’t like to ask their clients if they’ve committed the crime. If they confess, then their attorney can’t put them on the stand and let them lie. It’s different with HIPP. We only take cases if we believe our client was wrongfully convicted. So, tell me, did you murder your parents?”

Molly’s smile dimmed, her shoulders slumped, and the glow of her rosy cheeks disappeared, as though an internal light had been switched off. “It aches when I think about my parents. I loved them so much. Sure, we had our fights. I mean, I was a teenager when they died, and I behaved like a teenager. But kill them? I could never have done that.”