Her deadly game, p.16
Her Deadly Game, page 16
Patsy’s chair squeaked. “I’ll get Ella started on a motion to compel to be heard tomorrow morning at the case-scheduling conference. This could be a blessing. Judge Hung won’t appreciate it if Ambrose is playing games, maybe get him off on the wrong foot with her.”
“I’m going to make a call and see if I can get to the bottom of this,” Keera said.
“It’s nine o’clock at night.”
Keera looked up at the clock on the wall, unaware so much time had passed. “Tell Ella I’ll be up working late, and in the office early tomorrow morning to go over the motion.” Keera disconnected and debated what she was about to do, but she wanted to be able to include a declaration with any motion that she had tried to resolve the dispute before seeking a judicial ruling. Judges expected lawyers to work out their disagreements. She swore and punched in the cell phone number.
“Keera Duggan,” Ambrose said. She heard ice cubes clink in a glass. “What a pleasant surprise.”
“This is a professional call.”
“To my cell phone?”
She ignored him. “I’m looking at the police file, Miller. I don’t see the ME’s autopsy report.”
“He isn’t finished with it,” Miller said.
Liar. But Keera wasn’t going to tell him she knew that. She’d also save that for a declaration in support of a motion to compel production, and she’d seek sanctions. “So you haven’t seen it either?” she asked.
“What in particular are you interested in?” he asked, too smart to answer her question.
“I’m interested in a copy of the ME’s report. You’ve read it?”
“Let me check with the detectives and find out if it has come in or not and why they didn’t include it.”
He’d blame Rossi if he had to. “You haven’t seen it?”
“I’ll call you back . . . during work hours. I’m enjoying my evening.” Again, the glass clinked. “You, on the other hand, are working awfully late. Perhaps you’d like to rethink your decision not to waive LaRussa’s right to a speedy trial?”
“Don’t make me bring an unnecessary motion, Miller.”
“Good night, Keera. Sleep tight.” He disconnected the call.
“Shit,” she said. She stood and retrieved the bottle of Dalmore, pouring herself a finger, neat. She took a long sip and felt the burn down the back of her throat, which, after a moment, eased her adrenaline rush. She walked back to the table, picked up her cell phone, and made another call, this one to Frank Rossi’s personal number.
“Keera?” Rossi said.
“I received the police file today,” she said. “But not all of it.”
“We’re waiting on the toxicology report,” he said.
“Anything else?”
“Not that I can think of.”
“Where’s the ME’s report?”
Rossi paused. “You didn’t get the ME’s report?”
“You included it?”
Again, Rossi didn’t immediately answer. “Let me check when I get in tomorrow.”
“Ambrose said any mistake would be yours. So did you include it? Frank?”
“I’ll check when I get in,” he said again, and disconnected.
Chapter 21
June 15, 2023
Keera awoke early Thursday morning despite being up late talking on the phone with Ella and working to put together a motion to compel the ME’s report. Ella had also filed a motion that Judge Hung reconsider the issue of bail, though that did not seem likely.
Keera showered, dressed, downed a cup of coffee, and ate granola and yogurt while thinking of the arguments she’d raise, each argument Ambrose might make in response, and how she would counter. Keera knew lawyers in private practice who billed their clients for the time they showered and commuted to work. Most people didn’t understand that some days, the good lawyers spent every waking moment thinking about their cases. It explained why so many lawyers were divorced or had addiction issues. The law, she had been told, more than once, was a jealous mistress.
She picked out an outfit based on Patsy’s admonition that Judge Hung expected lawyers to be professional and to show respect for the legal process. The judge believed lawyers had earned their bad reputation and would not change that public perception without also earning it.
Keera moved to her front door, catching the chessboard in her peripheral vision. The previous night, the Dark Knight had made another aggressive move, knight to d6. Keera had countered with an even more aggressive move. Never back down from your opponent, Patsy had instructed. Her bishop took the Dark Knight’s bishop at g2, eliminating the last defender protecting his king.
She sensed his vulnerability and wondered if he did also.
When she stepped from the elevator, the office lobby lights, triggered by motion, had already been activated, meaning she wasn’t the first to arrive. Maggie never got in early unless promised overtime pay. Ella could have beaten Keera into the office, but as Keera walked the hall, she noticed Ella’s corner office remained dark. That left Patsy.
During a rare moment of honesty when speaking about their father, Ella had once said that, as a young girl tasked with retrieving a drunk Patsy from his office, the approach to his office door caused the greatest anxiety. She described it as approaching a bear’s den. “You didn’t know if the bear would be hibernating, or awake and angry.”
No wonder Ella had sought counseling. “I wasn’t going to cart around that luggage for the rest of my life,” Ella had once told Keera. “I couldn’t. It would have crushed me, the way it’s crushed Maggie.”
Keera stopped just outside her father’s office. He sat behind his desk, his forehead resting in the cathedral he’d made with his hands. Steam wafted from a hot cup of coffee on his blotter, and Keera could smell the bitterness of the beans. She knocked gently three times to draw his attention. His eyes were clear and his cheeks ruddy. “Hey, kiddo. You’re in early,” he said. His voice was strong. He did not sound tired or hoarse. He’d had a good night’s sleep. He had not been drinking.
“Thinking about the hearing.” She settled into a chair across his desk. “Is that the motion?”
Patsy nodded. “Just doing a final read. I have a messenger set up to file it the minute the clerk’s office opens, and to hand deliver a copy to Judge Hung.”
“What do you think?” she asked.
“Strong on the facts, light on the law.”
“Knowing Ambrose, I wouldn’t be surprised if he presented the ME’s report in Hung’s chambers. He knows he kept us up late, and he knows Judge Hung won’t issue sanctions so long as he delivers the report.”
“So he’s just screwing with us.”
“It’s what he does best.” She paused to change subjects. “Got a question for you. JP said something the other day. Suggested maybe I pull back, not push so hard to get a trial date. Maybe we need more time to figure out the evidence. Was wondering if you had any advice?”
Patsy leaned back. “Where do you think Ambrose is at?”
“Last night Ambrose made the same suggestion, so I’m betting he’s in the same place we are. Trying to figure out the evidence.”
“His case is circumstantial,” Patsy said, “though he’s certainly got more evidence to argue that Vince killed Anne. Is it enough to get a conviction? I don’t know.”
“But at present, he’s definitely controlling the center of the board.”
Patsy smiled at the chess reference.
“His best witnesses will be Syd Evans and Lisa Bennet,” Keera said. “They’ll each say Anne LaRussa was alive when they left the house. Right now, I’d be trying a reasonable doubt case.” Meaning she’d be attacking the prosecution’s witnesses and evidence hoping to plant a seed of doubt in at least one juror’s mind. “I’d rather try my own theory, but . . . I’m waiting on the toxicology report. If it comes back showing Anne LaRussa had opioids in her system—I have circumstantial evidence to argue Bennet had a reason to kill Anne.”
“Tell me the argument,” Patsy said.
“Bennet was having an affair with Vince. So in addition to threatening Vince with the forfeiture clause, Anne threatened to go after Bennet’s medical license for overprescribing narcotics.”
“That’s a lot to lose for a single mother of three,” Patsy agreed.
“But is it enough to convince a jury that Bennet was capable of shooting her friend?”
“It’s a brutal act,” Patsy said. “And, sadly, jurors are more likely to accept the spouse as the killer than her best friend, not to mention accept the loss of a hundred million dollars as opposed to a medical license. Have you found any witnesses who will testify that their marriage had problems?”
“No. But those we’ve spoken with confirm what the father said, that they hadn’t seen much of Anne following her accident, less so the past six months,” Keera said. “I’m worried Ambrose will argue Vince intended his wife’s isolation. And Vince remains adamant there was no affair, as does Bennet, though Bennet will testify Anne believed there was an affair.”
“What’s your working argument?” Patsy said.
“Bennet’s a survivor. She lost her husband early in life and has struggled to raise and educate her daughters on her own. She wasn’t going to let anyone prevent her from doing that by ruining her career.”
“It’s thin,” Patsy said, though Keera knew that already.
“What would you do?” Keera asked.
Patsy smiled. “I think you know what I’d do.”
“The best defense is always a good offense. You’d attack.”
“Sometimes you have to push forward with your strongest pieces and not fear the consequences. I wouldn’t waive time either. I’d keep Ambrose’s feet to the fire, play a little chicken, see who clucks first. A lot can happen between now and the trial date, and a lot more can happen during the trial. Our job, if our client refuses to plea, is to work with what we have and push it as far as we can. Good things tend to happen to people who are optimistic. Even the defeats don’t feel so bad. Not that I’m saying you’re going to lose.”
Keera feigned being indignant. “I should hope not.”
“I learned a long time ago not to bet against you, kiddo.”
Keera stood. “Thanks, Dad.”
Patsy smiled. “Thanks for asking for my opinion. Have you thought more about me coming to the hearing with you?”
She nodded. “I think it would look like overkill and, given your reputation, like you’re holding my hand. Both the judge and the client need to believe I am capable of trying this case.”
“We’re well past that, Keera. I’m proud of the attorney you’ve become, but I’m prouder of the person you’ve become.”
“I’ll let you know how it goes.”
“And I’ll keep working like the wizard behind the curtain.” He checked his watch. “At the moment, this wizard needs to get this motion finalized and filed.”
Keera worked at her desk until roughly 8:30 a.m., then made her way up the hill to the King County Courthouse. She rode the elevator to the ninth floor, the highest floor in the courthouse with courtrooms. Patsy said the joke was no one ascended higher than Judge Hung. Keera pushed open the wooden door to courtroom W-941 and stepped inside. She had yet to appear before Judge Hung, but the courtrooms were mostly generic—modest in size and well worn, the gallery pews nicked and chipped, the dark linoleum floor bare in spots. On the wall to the right of the judge’s elevated desk hung an oversized calendar. A woman, presumably Judge Hung’s clerk, scurried about in the well beneath the desk.
When Keera set her briefcase on the defense table the woman took notice. “Are you Ms. Duggan?”
“I am.”
“Judge Hung is holding the case-scheduling hearing in her chambers. Mr. Ambrose just arrived. I’ll escort you back.”
Keera thought it improper for a judge to invite back an attorney without opposing counsel present, even if only for a moment, but she wasn’t about to open with that admonition. She followed the woman down a narrow hall to the judge’s chambers. Ambrose sat in one of two leather chairs on a red Persian throw rug across the desk from Judge Hung. Behind him, windows faced downtown Seattle, patches of the blue waters of Elliott Bay visible between the buildings.
“Ms. Duggan.” Judge Hung stood and extended a hand.
Hung, sixty-two, had no gray in her dark hair that curled at her shoulders. Soft facial features and few wrinkles made her look younger than her years. She was slight of build and wore a white, collared shirt, and no makeup or jewelry but for a silver wristwatch.
“You and Mr. Ambrose know one another, I presume?” she said in a voice an octave deeper than Keera had expected.
“We do,” Keera said, finding her way to the chair beside Ambrose.
“Keera and I once worked cases together.” Ambrose reached out his hand. Keera reluctantly shook it. Ambrose smiled. His grip was stronger than necessary and punctuated with a squeeze. Keera’s skin crawled.
“Will Mr. Duggan be joining us?” Judge Hung asked.
“Not today,” Keera said, sitting.
“His name is atop the pleading I have before me,” Hung said, indicating the motion Ella had prepared and filed. “Will he be trying this case?”
“He’s the firm’s founding member,” Keera said, though she was certain Judge Hung was well aware of this fact. “I will try this case.”
“But Mr. Duggan will sit second chair?”
“That’s correct.” Keera sensed Judge Hung had concerns about her qualifications to defend a first-degree murder charge. Keera refused to give in to the temptation to further explain her qualifications, and a brief, uncomfortable silence hung between them.
“Let’s get started, then,” Judge Hung said, breaking that silence. She looked to the court stenographer, seated to the judge’s right with the steno machine, which would capture everything said. After calling the hearing to order, and both sides stating their appearances, Judge Hung said, “I’m going to put over the defense’s motion to compel until the end of the hearing and get some preliminary matters out of the way. Has there been any discussion regarding a plea?”
“There has not,” Ambrose said.
“No, Your Honor,” Keera said.
“There will be none?” Hung asked.
“We would accept a guilty plea, if defendant is so inclined,” Ambrose said.
“Defendant is not so inclined,” Keera said. “We will accept a dismissal of all charges.”
“And your client is not waiving his right to a speedy trial?” Judge Hung asked in a tone that sounded disapproving.
“He is not, Your Honor. The defendant is prepared to move forward to clear his name.”
Hung made a soft noise that sounded like “Hmm.” She looked down at pages on her desk, seeming to study them. After a moment she raised her gaze to Keera. “This is a murder-one charge. Your client understands he’s looking at life behind bars without parole.”
“If convicted,” Keera said.
“And did you tell him the prosecution has not yet completed pretrial discovery and it’s unlikely you’ll get everything prior to the trial date if he does not waive time?”
That did not bode well for Keera’s motion to compel. “I’m sorry, Your Honor? Why is that?” She regretted asking for an explanation the moment the question left her mouth.
Judge Hung wasted no time making Keera feel naïve and inexperienced. “Murder trials are fluid, Ms. Duggan. Witnesses and evidence often can’t be located until the day the witness testifies. Witnesses get sick or have conflicts and must be taken out of order. If your client refuses to waive his right to a speedy trial, I want to be sure he understands that I won’t look favorably on any requests for additional time during trial.”
Keera thought of her father’s counsel earlier that morning. “I’m optimistic the State won’t unnecessarily waste court time with gamesmanship requiring the defense to file motions to compel, Your Honor. We ask only that the State timely disclose witnesses, their expected testimony, and the evidence they intend to rely upon, so the defense can properly prepare, as required by Washington State law.”
Ambrose, his legs crossed, formed a steeple with his hands just below his chin and said, “Your Honor, we certainly aren’t hiding any information from defense counsel, as insinuated. We provided the lead detective’s investigative file immediately following the defendant’s arraignment, though we were under no such obligation to provide it so quickly. The current defense motion is a little bit of a damned-if-you-do motion . . . if you will. No good deed goes unpunished.”
“I guess we’ll go ahead and talk about Ms. Duggan’s motion since you’ve both brought it up,” Judge Hung said. “Ms. Duggan?”
“The investigative file produced omitted the medical examiner’s autopsy report and the victim’s toxicology labs, though several experts indicated the conclusions in their reports were premised upon the medical examiner’s findings—like the ballistics expert’s opinion. Those experts clearly had the report, which begs the question why it was not produced.”
“Your Honor,” Ambrose said. “I spoke with the detectives about this and understand that the medical examiner had not yet finalized his report but had provided several experts with his initial findings so as to, again, expedite getting this information to defense counsel. As for toxicology, counsel should know such a report can take several weeks to complete.”
“Your Honor, the State’s ballistics expert—” Keera began.
Judge Hung raised a hand. “I read your briefing, Ms. Duggan, and counsel for the State is correct, the investigative file was provided early. As I previously stated, all expert reports and pleadings identifying witnesses and what they’re expected to testify about are to be provided and updated as we near trial. I think you jumped the gun here with your motion.”
Keera bit her tongue.
Ambrose uncrossed his legs. “Your Honor, the prosecution does not want to unnecessarily take up the court’s time. I have the medical examiner’s report as well as the toxicology labs, which I received yesterday afternoon.” He reached into his briefcase at the side of his chair and, as Keera had predicted, handed multipage documents to Judge Hung, making Keera look petty and himself magnanimous. Ambrose could have told Keera he had the reports and would produce them at the hearing when they spoke last night. He’d forced Keera to prepare an unnecessary motion and now sought to make her look unreasonable. Keera knew arguing would do no good. Judges were often put in the role of a parent stuck between two fighting children. They weren’t interested in who did what to whom; they just wanted the matter resolved so they didn’t have to hear the fighting.
