Raising Cain (36 page)

Ransome turned to Gardner. “Is that true?”

“Technically, yes.”

“Then how is this inquiry relevant? You say that Ruth killed himself. You know you can’t go both ways.”

Gardner gripped the bench. “We intend to prove that Ruth was a mentally unstable individual who became more and more paranoid
as Officer Davis hounded him. That is not inconsistent with our defense; in fact, it’s supportive.”

“So you’re saying that Davis here may have driven Ruth to kill himself?”

“Contributed to it, yes,” Gardner said.

“Objection,” King groaned.

Ransome leaned back in his chair for a moment, then brought himself forward. “Overruled. The line of questioning seems fair
under the circumstances. Let’s get back to work.”

The attorneys returned to their places, and Gardner approached the stand. “How many times did you stop Thomas Ruth’s car,
Officer Davis?”

Davis twitched nervously. “What?”

“Did you make a number of traffic stops on Thomas Ruth’s car?” Davis looked down. “Yes.”

“How many?”

“A few.”

“Seven, eight, nine?” Gardner’s tone was sharp.

“I never counted.”

“Object again on the same grounds,” King declared.

“Overruled.”

“Why did you stop Thomas Ruth?”

“We had a surveillance going. I was trying to keep track of his movements.”

“Did that necessitate a stop? Couldn’t you have observed him from a distance just as well?”

“I guess so.”

“Then why did you pull him over so many times? Wasn’t it to annoy him? To harass him?”

“To keep track of his movements.”

Gardner looked at the jury. Every eye was locked on the witness.

“So you admit you harassed him,” Gardner said.

“Object.”

“Overruled.”

Davis remained silent.

“You
did
harass the man, didn’t you?”

“Not exactly,” Davis answered. “I was just doing my job.”

“Overdoing it is more like it.” Gardner went to the counsel table and drew a document from his file. “In fact, Mr. Ruth obtained
a restraining order to make you stop, didn’t he?” Gardner started to hand a copy of the civil log to Davis.

“Object! Object! Object!” King interrupted.

“Approach!” barked Judge Ransome.

“This witness isn’t qualified to admit this evidence,” King fumed at the bench. “It is a copy of a pleading
I
filed on behalf of Mr. Ruth, and which was withdrawn prior to filing. The witness knows nothing about it. It is irrelevant
to the proceedings in any event. As I said, the officer has been cleared.”

Rollie looked at Gardner. “Your position?”

“It supports the contention that Davis’s actions had an effect on Ruth. He went to a lawyer to try to stop it.”

“But
this
witness is not qualified to admit the document,” King argued.

“I agree,” Ransome said.

Gardner looked at the judge. “Then I request that the witness step down for a moment, while I call someone to the stand who
can
admit it.”

“That’s improper,” King snapped. “This is the state’s case.” “You can vary the order of proof,” Gardner declared. “In order
to complete my cross-examination of this witness, it is necessary for me to place that document into evidence. It lays the
foundation for my assertion that Davis’s conduct had a negative psychological effect on the deceased.”

“No,” King dissented. “It’s improper procedure.”

Rollie looked at Gardner. “Whom do you wish to call?”

Gardner faced his adversary. “The prosecutor, Kent King.”

Jennifer entered the warden’s office at the detention center and extended her hand. “Thanks for seeing me, Mr. Frenkel,” she
said.

“That’s all right,” the warden replied. He motioned his visitor to a chair. “What can I do for you?”

Jennifer checked to be sure the door was closed. “I want to talk about Brownie and his activities here after the arrest.”

Frenkel’s expression turned quizzical. “Activities?”

Jennifer nodded. “I know he had some special privileges.”

“What did you expect me to do?”

“Don’t get defensive. This isn’t a complaint. I just want to know where he spent his time.” Jennifer had pondered the situation
and come to a sudden realization. It wasn’t
what
Brownie had done, but
where
he had done it that was the key. The time frame of his covert Ruth investigation had been extremely narrow. He’d barely had
time to find the shoes and fingerprint them before he got arrested. Maybe he’d finished the job in jail.

“He used this office some,” Frenkel said.

“To meet visitors?”

“Yes, and…”

“There was another reason he came here?”

“To use the phone, the fax…”

“The computer?” Jennifer glanced at the equipment across the room.

“If he wanted to.”

Jennifer stood and approached the console. “Did you keep track of the times he used it?”

“Yes, in my day-book.”

“Can you get it for me, please?” Jennifer switched on the monitor. The warden retrieved the book and handed it to her. The
machine was warming now, giving input signals. “What’s your password to the criminal justice net?”

Frenkel peered over her shoulder. “CROSSBAR,” he replied. “What are you looking for?”

Jennifer booted up the menu and struck a key accessing the FBI fingerprint classification files. Then she checked the notebook
and pressed a few more keys. “Were you present when Brownie used the computer?”

“No. He requested privacy.”

Jennifer entered the fingerprint database. “So you don’t know if he ran any prints for comparison, do you?”

“No.”

Jennifer selected the automatic backup file directory of the database. She keyed in a date, the access code, and the utilization
authority account number she had found in her State’s Attorney’s manual.

“What are you after?”

The screen flashed a “WAIT” signal as the mainframe in Washington tried to answer her request.

“What did Brownie do?” Frenkel repeated.

There was a beep, and a line of print appeared on the screen.

“What is
that
?”

“The response to a request Brownie made,” Jennifer said gravely. “He submitted a fingerprint for comparison in the FBI master
files.” “And that’s it?””That’s it.” Jennifer sighed.

Apparently Brownie had lifted a fingerprint from Ruth’s shoe and traced its identity through the computer. He had erased the
actual inquiry, but the fail-safe backup tape had preserved it. There it was in bold print, the name of the person whose fingerprint
had been matched: “PAUL JEFFERSON BROWN.”

“This is outrageous!” Kent King wailed. After a lengthy argument at the bench, Judge Ransome had agreed to let Gardner call
him as a witness.

“You may call Mr. King for a limited purpose,” Rollie cautioned the defense attorney. “You may identify the document and lay
the foundation for questioning Officer Davis about his actions, but that is all.”

“No, no, no! He cannot offer evidence now. It’s my case.”

“Take the stand, Mr. King.”

King whispered to Lin Song and walked to the witness chair like a condemned man. His expression told Rollie there would be
retribution later. In the gallery, anticipation rippled through the spectators, culminating in an audible buzz.

“Quiet, please,” Ransome said.

Gardner took a copy of the civil log up to the stand and handed it to King. “Recognize this?” he asked.

“Yes,” King replied with hostility.

“What is it?”

“You know what it is.”

Gardner looked at the judge.

“The jury doesn’t know, Mr. King. Tell them what the paper is.”

King gave Rollie another hateful stare. “The log of a civil pleading I filed and then withdrew.”

“What was the nature of the pleading?”

King crossed his arms. “An injunction petition.”

“And on whose behalf was it filed?”

King took a breath. “Thomas Ruth.”

“Thomas Ruth?” Gardner repeated loudly, as if that were a big surprise. There was another buzz in the crowd.

“Yes.”

“And what did Mr. Ruth ask you to enjoin for him?”

“Objection!” Lin Song cried. “Hearsay.”

“Not offered for truth of the matters contained therein, Your Honor,” Gardner countered.

“Overruled.”

“What conduct were you trying to stop?” Gardner went on.

“Questioning by police.”

“Is that how you phrased the pleading?” Gardner raised the document.

“Not exactly.”

“In fact, you termed the conduct that Mr. Ruth wanted stopped as harassment. Isn’t that true?”

“Yes.”

“The police officer who was doing the harassing—what was his name?”

“Objection!” Lin was back on her feet. “Counsel declared that he is not trying to prove the truth of the matters alleged.
He cannot therefore say the named officer was, in fact, the harasser.”

Rollie nodded. “I agree. Rephrase, Mr. Lawson.”

“Whose name did you put on the petition as the alleged harasser?”

“Objection!”

“He can answer that.”

King shifted in his seat but didn’t reply.

“What police officer’s name was on the petition?”

“Answer the question, Mr. King,” Rollie advised.

“Frank Davis.”

“Frank Davis!” Gardner repeated. “And can you tell the jury the mental state of Mr. Ruth when he came to your office and asked
you to help him stop Officer Davis from harassing him?”

“Objection!” Lin yelled. “That’s beyond the scope of the questioning parameters you outlined for the witness.”

“Yes, it is,” Ransome replied. “Sustained.”

“I’d like to answer,” King spoke suddenly.

“Do you withdraw the objection?”

King gave his co-counsel a signal. “Withdraw,” Lin declared.

“Very well. Answer.”

King addressed the jury. “Mr. Ruth was in excellent mental condition when I saw him. He was calm, well-oriented, and alert,
in a very good frame of mind.”

Gardner rolled his eyes. “Really?”

“Really.”

“So the fact that he was being hounded by a police officer had no effect on him. He was in such a good frame of mind that
he hired a lawyer—”

“Object!” King replied.

“You withdrew the objection,” Ransome pointed out.

“Object!” Lin echoed.

“If Mr. Ruth was in such a great frame of mind, he wouldn’t have needed a lawyer!” Gardner exclaimed. “He had a problem, a
big problem! And he went for help.”

“Object!” Lin tried again.

“What’s the question, Mr. Lawson?” Ransome asked.

Gardner looked at the jury. They were all wide-eyed, engaged. His point had been made, and then some. “No further questions,”
he said, sitting down. King had just dropped his right hand. And Gardner had nailed him good.

Gardner and Jennifer had agreed to meet after court. They sat by candlelight at the Mountain Lodge Restaurant, trying to converse
over dinner.

“You look good,” Gardner said. They had only been apart a few days, but it seemed longer. Jennifer seemed particularly beautiful,
her hair pulled back, her peach lipstick shimmering in the glow of the flame.

“You look tired,” Jennifer replied. His eyes were baggier than usual, his skin sallow.

There were so many issues, and so little time. Talk about the dayhad filled the void to this point. The trial had forged ahead
after King testified, and he was able to dig himself out of his hole. The points Gardner had scored were overcome by the mass
of circumstantial evidence the other witnesses piled up. There was little cause for celebration.

The two lawyers ate their appetizers in silence, then looked at each other. “I…” they both began.

“Sorry. “ Gardner laughed self-consciously.

“I need to say something,” Jennifer announced, “and I would appreciate it if you would remain calm. Can you do that?”

“I’ll try.”

“Brownie matched a fingerprint to his brother’s while he was at the detention center. He used the computer and accessed the
FBI files.”

“What?” Gardner’s face flushed.

“Remain calm. Please. I now have proof of Paul Brown’s involvement in the Ruth case, and when you combine the fingerprint
with
this
…”—Jennifer pulled a copy of the internal affairs report on Brownie from her handbag and passed it to Gardner—“it all comes
into focus. Brownie has a history of covering up for his brother. He shielded Paul from a burglary and vandalism charge when
he was a teenager.”

Gardner read the paper by the candlelight. “Jesus Christ.” he whispered.

“You never knew about this?”

Gardner checked the date on the report. “I didn’t even know Brownie back then. I was in college.”

Jennifer had guessed right. Brownie had hidden his past from Gardner. “I tried to explain the situation, but you wouldn’t
let me.”

Gardner put down the report. “I told you why: the defenses conflict and we had nothing specific to go on.”

“We do now.”

Gardner took a sip of his martini and gave her a frustrated look. “It doesn’t make any difference. We still have Brownie to
deal with.”

“Can’t you go around him?”

“Not ethically….”

“Isn’t there
something
we can do?”

Gardner finished his drink. “Was the fingerprint image saved in the computer?”

“No. Brownie erased it, but he forgot about the backup log. It retained an entry confirming that Paul Brown’s print had been
matched.”

“So you couldn’t retrieve the actual print?”

“No.”

Gardner put his elbow on the table. “If we got our hands on the print itself, we might be able to do something.”

“But Brownie has it.”

“Or
had
it.” Gardner stared across the table, his dark eyes mirroring the flickering light. “Without Brownie to say where the print
came from, there’s nothing to incriminate Paul.”

“And Brownie won’t talk.”

Gardner did not reply. That was the crux of it. The only way out would be to turn brother against brother. But Brownie was
a man of honor. He’d die in silence before ever doing that.