The Price of Justice (7 page)

C
HAPTER

14

A
s Florida law required, Judge Frederick Hinchey scheduled a case-management conference on Dani’s motion. The purpose was to determine if an evidentiary hearing was necessary. When Dani entered the judge’s chambers, she was surprised to see Ed Whiting already seated, laughing over something with the judge. Although Whiting had tried Winston’s case, he had been chief assistant state attorney then. It was highly unusual for a state attorney to handle cases directly.

“Come on in, Ms. Trumball,” the justice said as he motioned her inside. “Ed and I are just having a laugh over an old case.” Judge Hinchey was seated behind his desk, leaning back in his swivel chair. His robes hung over the back of a door, and he was dressed in a suit and tie, with the jacket stretched over his ample stomach. He looked more like Santa Claus in disguise, with his round face, stark white hair, trimmed white beard, and crinkly eyes, than a justice of the court.

Dani entered the room and took a seat next to Whiting.

“So, you think your boy is really innocent?” Hinchey said.

“I do. Someone else has confessed to the crime, Your Honor.” Since Tommy hadn’t found any evidence of payments made by any of the Meltons, Dani had begun to feel more confident about her client. Still, now and then, kernels of uncertainty about Win’s innocence surfaced. She pushed away those thoughts. She was an advocate, and would do so zealously on behalf of her client. It would tear her up if it turned out he’d actually killed Carly Sobol, though.

Hinchey turned toward Whiting. “And you don’t believe that confession, I gather.”

“No, Your Honor.”

“Well, I have to say, Ms. Trumball, I don’t like these last-minute confessions myself. Especially when the person doing the confessing has nothing to lose.”

“I understand your concern, which is why I think an evidentiary hearing is warranted, so we can present witnesses and demonstrate the veracity of the confession.”

Whiting leaned forward in his chair. “I’d like to remind you, sir, that the death warrant has been signed. Even if that weren’t the case, a confession in these circumstances is inherently untrustworthy, and so not likely to alter the result of a new trial.”

“Now, I’ve read both your briefs. No need to go over that here. This conference is mandated by law, and so we’re having it. But unless you have something new to add, I understand both your positions. I’ll render my decision before the week is out.”

Whiting sat back in his chair with a self-satisfied look on his face, leaving Dani to wonder if he knew something she didn’t.

Two days later, Judge Hinchey’s decision lay on her desk. She’d read it once, with cool detachment. So unlike her usual feelings of despair, mixed with anger, when a ruling went against her. She wondered if it was because of her lingering disquiet over her client’s innocence.

She picked up her phone and asked Melanie and Tommy to come into her office. When they arrived, she announced, “We lost Win’s motion for a new trial.”

Melanie sunk down in her chair. “Without an evidentiary hearing? What reason did the judge give?”

“Pretty much mirrored Whiting’s brief. The Timely Justice Act barred any new appeals. Even if it didn’t, he found Sanders’s confession to be noncredible without corroborating evidence, and the fact that he could be placed in the area didn’t amount to much.”

“But what about the butterfly tattoo? And the initials in the tree?” Melanie asked. “Those facts hadn’t been released to the public. How else would Sanders have known about them?”

“It wasn’t enough for the judge.”

Tommy frowned. “So what now?”

Dani wanted to answer that it was time to leave it alone and take on another case. It was always going to be difficult to get a new trial for Winston. They’d given it a shot and failed. Move on. But the board of directors had instructed HIPP to take Win’s case, and they wouldn’t let her give up now. Even though they’d already received the first payment of $500,000, the board wouldn’t want her to walk away from the possibility of another half million. Besides, Dani knew, if the client were anyone else, she would never stop with one loss. She’d fight until no fights were left.

She sat quietly for a moment, fiddling with the pencil in her hand, then leaned back in her chair. “We start from the beginning. Treat this as an investigation into the original crime. Interview everyone who knew the victim and knew Winston. Talk to people who were at the dance that night. Pore over the police records.” She stopped, then smiled. “They want corroboration? Let’s find it for them.”

Now, Tommy’s frown disappeared. They were about to embark on what Dani knew Tommy loved most about his job. “When do we leave?”

Dani leafed through her appointment calendar. “Two days. Clear up what you can tomorrow, then we’ll head to Florida.”

“How long do you expect you’ll be away?” Doug asked.

It was “honeymoon hour,” and Dani had filled Doug in on the denial of her motion for a new trial. As always, she was snuggled next to him on their worn-down couch. The nights were starting to get cooler, but not cold enough yet to turn on the heat. A throw blanket covered her up to her chin. “Don’t know. Could be just a few days if we can’t find anyone. It’s been seven years since the murder. Or it could be a week or two.”

“But you’ll be back on Saturday, right?”

“Maybe. I just don’t know yet.”

Doug pushed Dani off his chest and sat upright. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten?”

Dani looked at him blankly, and then it hit her. “Oh, no! Jonah’s symphony!”

The Westchester Philharmonic was performing his symphony on Saturday evening. Dani’d had the date marked in her calendar for many months. How could she have forgotten it? Once again, an onslaught of guilt washed over her, a feeling that she’d often had to push away since she’d returned to work six years ago.

“No matter what, I’ll be here for it. Even if I just come home for the concert, then go back again.”

Doug nodded. “Good. It’s important to Jonah.”

Dani looked over at Doug.
How easy it is for you. Maybe for most men. You go off to work and leave your child with someone else, and never give a thought to whether you should be home.
Dani could feel her resentment build, then stopped. Doug was as shackled by society’s expectation that men earn a living as she was by women’s prescribed role as the one responsible for child care. Both expectations were unfair. She leaned back down into Doug’s chest, and he wrapped his arms around her.

Dani thought back to her own childhood. Both her parents had worked. She came home from school each day to Jenny, her nanny from the time she was a toddler. Even though her mother didn’t greet her when she stepped off the school bus, Dani returned each day from school happy to be enveloped in Jenny’s warm embrace. She never harbored any doubts that her mother loved her dearly, never felt that her mother cared more about her job than her daughter. Yet, despite her own happy remembrances of childhood, she couldn’t shake the feeling when she returned to work that she’d be shortchanging Jonah. Fortunately, as the years passed and he grew older, that feeling had mostly disappeared, only returning occasionally. Forgetting about Jonah’s upcoming symphony once more triggered her self-recriminations.

“You’re feeling guilty again, aren’t you?” Doug said, always seemingly able to read her mind.

Dani nodded.

“I don’t suppose anything I say will ease your mind.”

She shook her head. He had reassured her over and over, and her intellect said he was right. If only her emotions followed suit.

It was close to midnight when Dani stepped out of her home office and headed to bed. Doug had long since turned in, but she needed to wrap up some work before she flew to Florida the next morning. She poked her head into Jonah’s room and saw that he was sleeping soundly. When he slept, curled up with his blanket wrapped around him, he almost looked like any other child. But his pixie-like facial features marked him as a Williams-syndrome child. She marveled at how big he’d grown. The time seemed to have flown by, as though he’d been caught in a whirlwind that sped up his growth from infant to toddler to adolescent. She’d worried so much when he was little. Worried about the medical problems he might face because of his condition, worried about leaving him with a sitter when she returned to work, worried about what his future would hold, especially after she and Doug died. Now, thanks to a wonderful teacher at the special school he attended, those worries had subsided. Not disappeared, but greatly diminished. She felt optimistic that he would not only survive, but with his musical talent, thrive.

She tiptoed inside and kissed his forehead, then closed his door behind her and quietly entered her bedroom. Guided only by the night-light in the hallway, she retrieved a nightgown from her dresser, then made her way to the bathroom. Once inside, she stared at herself in the mirror over the sink. Coarse gray hairs sprouted from the top of her head, marring her best feature—her thick brunette hair falling in waves to her shoulders. Is it time? she wondered. She’d always thought she’d let her hair gray naturally, as her mother had. But her mother had taught elementary-school children, where gray hair instilled visions of grandmothers and warm embraces. It was different in the business world—and that extended to courtrooms—where youth was revered. Judges sitting high on the bench and supposedly instilled with founts of wisdom often had gray hair—a homage to the years they’d spent toiling in the ranks before ascending to a ruling position. Attorneys were different. When law schools across the nation churned out thousands of new lawyers every year, firms and agencies were filled with young firebrands yearning to make their mark. Unless you were a senior partner in a law firm and therefore automatically admired, gray hair meant you were past your prime. Even if you were only Dani’s age.

Dani stepped back from the mirror to examine the rest of her body. Her face had fine lines around her eyes, but otherwise, her skin was still smooth and taut. She’d never gotten rid of the extra ten pounds she’d gained after Jonah was born, but she’d always been slim. Although she missed the flat stomach she’d once had, the extra weight gave her curves that Doug found appealing. She looked up again at her hair. Yes, she concluded. It’s time.