Obstruction of Justice Page 35

  "It’s not logical any other way."

  "The contusion to the head you noted wasn’t a tremendous, crushing blow, was it? There was no skull fracture?"

  "No."

  "How come one of the berries ruptured, but not the other two? If the trauma was sufficient to burst one, why wasn’t it sufficient to burst the others?"

  "The other two weren’t... weren’t..."

  "Weren’t ready to blow? They would go in their own due time, right, Doc? At a time no one can predict? Isn’t that right?"

  Clauson was fidgeting in the witness chair. "Counsel," Amagosian interrupted. "Is it the position of the defense that the cause of death was natural causes?"

  "That’s right, Your Honor."

  "In spite of the violent circumstances? The fire?"

  "The defendant isn’t charged with setting a fire," Nina explained. "He’s charged with a homicide. And he can’t be held to answer if there is no probable cause to believe the death occurred by criminal means."

  "All right." Amagosian put his pencil down and listened intently.

  "Given the other circumstances—I mean, the head trauma and the whole scene at the cemetery—" Clauson was trying to say.

  "Wait until a question is asked," Amagosian told him curtly.

  "I ask you to address yourself at this time solely to the medical circumstances, Doctor," Nina said. "Based on the autopsy you performed and your experience and education in forensics pathology, is it not possible that the head trauma could have been caused by falling against the shovel, rather than being hit by the shovel?"

  "Pretty freaky accident, if so," Clauson answered.

  "You testified that when the aneurysm ruptured, the victim would feel a sudden severe pain? And then become unconscious quickly?"

  "That’s the usual sequence. Not always."

  "So a fall would be likely, if the victim was standing up?"

  "Could happen."

  "And the victim might fall on something lying on the ground, not be able to avoid it, right?"

  "Objection. Calls for speculation."

  "We’re talking to the county coroner here," Nina said. "If I can’t query him about the medical effects of a ruptured aneurysm, who am I supposed to ask?"

  Amagosian said, "It is speculation. Try to get at it some other way, if you can. Sustained."

  "All right, then,’’ Nina said. "Let me ask you this: Can you determine, based on your medical findings, and I stress that, medical findings, whether the victim was struck by some human agency wielding the shovel, or whether the victim fell on the shovel?"

  "No! But it stands to reason—"

  "So all we have are the shovel and the skull coming into contact? We do have that?"

  "In my opinion, yes."

  "And we don’t know which came first, the aneurysm or the shovel, do we?"

  "You have to consider the circumstances!" Clauson said a little desperately.

  "Now, please tell me this as clearly as you can, Doc," Amagosian said grimly, stepping in. "Is it as likely as not that the aneurysm ruptured on its own as it is that it was ruptured by a blow to the head?"

  "As likely as not?" Clauson said.

  "That’s what I want to know. I know you can’t be absolutely sure about it. I just want to know, is it as likely as not the aneurysm burst on its own?"

  Clauson was looking at Collier, whose folded arms and black stare let Nina know just how upset he was.

  "It’s just as likely," Clauson said.

  Amagosian settled back in his chair. "I see," he said, the two words indicating the heavy weight he had attached to that answer.

  Nina had destroyed Collier’s case. She had won.

  She shouldn’t look at him. She did anyway.

  He was hunched over, pretending to make a note, just as she did when she received a body blow.

  "Thank you, Your Honor. I’m finished with the witness," she said.

  29

  COLLIER ASKED FOR A RECESS UNTIL THE FOLLOWING morning, and a little later Nina saw the coroner walking across the patio toward the DA’s office looking smaller than usual and wearing a chastened expression.

  Collier had not made any mistakes. He should have been able to rely on the medical examiner’s conclusions without doing any independent research. But Nina had listened to Clauson slanting everything ever so slightly toward the prosecution during two previous trials.

  Over the years, Clauson had become a creature of the prosecution. He couldn’t content himself with the medical side: he had to read all the other reports, and he let himself be influenced by them. In this case, faced with a rather complex investigation as to cause of death, when it came down to a fifty-fifty question on the cause of the rupture of the aneurysm, he had come through initially for the prosecution. When challenged, though, he had done what he had to do and backed down.

  Through Ginger, Nina had known Clauson couldn’t arrive at a medical conclusion that the aneurysm had burst because of a blow. Common sense and police theory prescribed that outcome, however, and Clauson initially hadn’t been able to resist going along.

  The next day, two more officers were sworn and questioned in an effort to rehabilitate the damage to the prosecution case, but Nina held the line. She had that sense of quiet confidence that only comes with a sure thing.

  On that Tuesday afternoon Collier rested the prosecution case, and Nina had her chance to bring Ginger in, but she didn’t do it. She told Amagosian that she wouldn’t put on any witnesses after all. The cops and Sarah and Molly, who hadn’t been able to hear any of the testimony, were allowed in at last to hear the lawyers make their concluding arguments.

  Nina and Collier argued their separate views of the facts. From there, they moved to arguing the meaning and intent of the law. Although probable cause was the lowest standard of proof the prosecution could have, Collier had to meet that standard as to both prongs of his case: that Quentin de Beers’s death occurred by criminal agency, and that Jason was the perpetrator.

  Nina had found a California Supreme Court case holding that when the circumstances of a case are equally susceptible of innocence as of guilt, a finding of probable cause could not issue. Each prong had to meet that standard independently, or the case had to be dismissed.

  They went back and forth for an hour, both of them coming close to losing their tempers on several occasions. Collier really believed Jason had killed his grandfather, and he had to win this prelim. Nina didn’t have that sense of moral certainty he projected, but she took her refuge in the law.

  "All right," Amagosian said at four o’clock. "I’ve heard enough." He stroked an invisible goatee. "This is a close case. I am compelled to follow the rule set forth in California Penal Code section 871, which provides as follows"—he harrumphed and adjusted his glasses, then read—" ’If after hearing the proofs it appears that no public offense has been committed, or’—and I emphasize the or—’there is not sufficient cause to believe the defendant guilty of a public offense, the magistrate shall order the complaint dismissed and the defendant to be discharged.’

  "Now. The circumstances surrounding this man’s death are quite suspicious. There are obvious crimes involved in connection with this death, including disturbing a grave and arson. However, we are not here today to decide whether the defendant shall be held to answer as to such crimes. We can look solely at the evidence relating to the death of Quentin de Beers.

  "I would believe that there was sufficient cause to compel the defendant to stand trial on some type of homicide charge, if I could satisfy the first prong of the test, which is to show probable cause that a public offense was committed. To put it in plain language, if I believed it was more likely than not that the deceased did not die a natural death, I would tend to feel the defendant was responsible for that death.

  "However, I cannot make that prerequisite finding. I don’t see how I can bind the defendant over when it’s as likely that the victim died of natural causes as from being struck by the defendant
. It appears that the cause of death involved the rupture of an aneurysm, and that the aneurysm might just as likely have ruptured on its own. I will quote the medical examiner’s testimony: ’It blows when it blows.’

  "Therefore, it is ordered as follows: There being no sufficient cause to believe the defendant, Jason Quentin de Beers, guilty of the offense set forth in the complaint herein, the complaint is hereby dismissed, and the defendant shall be discharged from custody as soon as the necessary paperwork has been prepared and executed."

  "I intend to appeal this order, Your Honor," Collier broke in. "I request that the defendant remain in custody while the appeal is pending."

  "You know I can’t do that, Counselor."

  "Then I request pursuant to the interests of justice that the defendant remain in custody for a period of a week while my office completes its investigation of the arson and other charges, and prepares an arrest warrant."

  "If I did that, Mrs. Reilly here would have my rear end on a habeas corpus writ, Counselor," Amagosian said. "You should have had your other warrants ready to go."

  "I haven’t had time, Your Honor!"

  "I sympathize, Mr. Hallowell. But the Fathers of the United States Constitution in their search for fundamental fairness saw fit to require a better reason than that before a person can be incarcerated. Court is adjourned."

  Noise erupted all over the courtroom. Amagosian glided from the bench off into the subterranean caverns measureless to man where judges lurk during their downtime.

  Jason looked dazed. Nina touched his arm and said, "You’ll be going home in about four hours, Jason. I’ll go harass the clerks to make sure the judge signs the release order right away."

  "I can’t believe it. I’ll be freed?"

  "Yes! The charges against you have been dismissed."

  Sarah and Molly, who had come rushing up, were embracing both of them. Molly leapt up, jumping on her brother’s back like a monkey, hanging off Jason’s neck. "Whoopee! This is so great!" she cried, and, caught up in her joy, Jason danced her in a circle, faster and faster, as they must have done when they were very small. The twins celebrated together, mindless of the sight they made, Molly’s shining hair flying behind her like sparks, and Jason’s expression as open and full of emotion as Nina had ever seen it.

  Molly finally fell off, laughing and panting. Sarah glowed. She said, "I’m so happy. Nina, you and Paul— please come to the house tonight for a celebration."

  "I’ll take a rain check," Nina said. "You’ll get no fun out of me until I’ve had a good night’s sleep."

  "Oh, please! Just come for a drink after dinner, and we’ll let you go home. We’ll all be there. Please... it would mean a lot." Paul was nodding, so Nina gave in, not wanting to spoil the mood. "Okay. I’m going to make a short statement on Jason’s behalf to the reporters, then go over to the clerk’s for a while. Then I’m going to need a nap. Is nine okay?"

  "Fantastic. Oh, Jason..." Sarah hugged him again, her arms around his waist, he was so tall, but he didn’t hug her back. His own moment of joy seemed to have left him as swiftly as it had come. He bowed his head toward his mother wearily, and she held his face in her hands, talking to him in that way mothers have that shuts out the rest of the world.

  Nina slept through dinner. She couldn’t even remember hitting the bed. At seven she woke up and took a shower, dressed herself in jeans and a red cotton shirt, and sat down with Bob on the couch. Matt and Andrea wanted to know about the hearing, but they sensed that she wasn’t ready to talk about it yet and left her alone to do sixth-grade math with him.

  She felt completely drained, not sure she could haul herself off the couch to go anywhere. But at eight forty-five the doorbell rang and Paul came in with a bunch of sunflowers.

  "They’re lovely, Paul. These must have cost you a pretty penny."

  "We’ll go get our backs patted at the de Beerses’, then let’s take in a show at Caesars."

  "I don’t know."

  "You’ll feel better when you see their happy, smiling faces."

  But there were no happy, smiling faces when Sarah answered the door at the de Beers house, her hair in disarray, a glass in her hand. "Please come in," she said. "I’m afraid you’ve just missed the twins. They’ve gone out." In the living room Leo was mixing up another shakerful of martinis.

  "Er," Paul said. "I’ve about had it with martinis, if you don’t mind. knew I should swear off them when I stopped down at Pope Beach after court and all I could think was that the sailboat masts looked like swizzle sticks and the lake was the color of very dry vermouth."

  "Yeah," Leo said. "Let’s bag the martinis. How about a beer? Coors okay?" He, too, seemed oddly subdued.

  "Now you’re talking. Nina?"

  "Anything," Nina said. Leo brought out the bottles and glasses and they all sat down in front of the fireplace. It seemed like a long time ago that she had sat there and talked to Joe Marquez, the day Molly...

  "How does Jason feel?" Nina asked.

  "Fine, fine. Here’s a toast to you and Paul. Thank you so much. You were both terrific."

  They all drank some beer. Sarah and Leo seemed to have run out of things to say. "This has been a big strain on you, Sarah," Nina said. "I imagine it hasn’t sunk in yet."

  "What are the chances Jason will be arrested again, Nina?" Leo asked.

  "I don’t know," Nina said. She really did not want to talk about law. "Is that what’s bothering you?"

  Sarah looked at Leo, and Leo said, "No. I’m sorry we’re not more festive tonight."

  Sarah opened an album that lay on the coffee table in front of her and pushed it toward Nina and Paul. "See that?" she said, pointing at a full-page portrait.

  In the photograph Molly and Jason were about four years old. Laughing and playing, outside on a lawn in the soft haze of late afternoon, the two seemed entirely unaware of the camera trained on them. Molly hung on Jason’s back, and Jason was spinning.

  "Jason would whirl around like a top with Molly on his back until they fell down. Then they’d lie on the grass side by side," said Sarah. "Aren’t they just the most beautiful kids?" Her voice was tormented.

  Puzzled at her mood, Nina and Paul agreed that yes, they certainly were. Leo sighed. The room was heavy with sorrow.

  "Sarah, what’s wrong?" Nina said.

  "Sarah—" Leo said.

  "It’s all right, Leo. Nina and Paul won’t do anything to hurt Jason. I can’t just sit here like this...."

  Paul said, "Where is Jason?"

  "He’s leaving, you see," said Sarah. "He packed two suitcases and said to give the rest to Goodwill. He told me ... he told me good-bye. He’s not coming back. Nothing I could say would change his mind."

  "He can’t do that," Nina said, shocked. "He must not understand. I’ve got it all worked out, about the cemetery and the fire. I haven’t had a chance to go over it with him yet. I think we can keep him out of jail. But if he leaves, they’ll issue a fugitive warrant and—"

  "He’s going away forever," Sarah said, her face screwing up. "And Molly went with him. She wouldn’t let him go alone. I wasn’t supposed to tell. He’s breaking down, Nina! He won’t even try to explain. He won’t talk to me!"

  Nina cast Paul a sidelong glance. Paul said, "Where are they right now?"

  "At Kenny’s. Would you... go there? Ask them not to go. Tell them what you said—that he has to stay home and face the rest of it. It’s not a matter of fear, though, that’s just it. It’s like... like... he ..."

  "I think Molly’s afraid Jason wants to die," Leo said.

  "Why don’t you go?" Nina broke in.

  "Kenny hates me. He won’t let me in," Sarah said, weeping.

  Paul said, "You can’t expect Nina to go over there blind. You have to explain what this is all about. She’s been working in the dark all this time, and it hasn’t been easy. You want help, you fill us in on what’s really going on."

  "Kenny hates me b-because I’m his mother," Sarah said, the t
ears flowing down her cheeks.

  "You’re Kenny’s mother?"

  "His biological mother. He’s their brother. They all know it."

  "Ray was Kenny’s father?" Paul said incredulously, but Sarah seemed incapable of answering. Nina and Paul stared at her, waiting for her to find her voice again.

  "Sarah was only seventeen when she had Kenny, younger than Molly is now," Leo said, taking up the thread. "Ray was older. He dominated her completely. When he found out she was pregnant, he married her and took her up here to live. But when Kenny was born—he had spina bifida and clubfeet. Ray rejected the baby completely. He always had to have everything perfect. If it wasn’t perfect when he got hold of it, he made it perfect. Except for the houses other people would have to live in, of course. He was a goddamn bastard. He took the baby down to Stanford and had the specialists examine him. When they told him the defects could only be partially corrected, he gave the baby away."

  "I should have stopped him," Sarah said, "I was such a coward. I should have taken my baby and left."

  "That was twenty years ago," Leo told her. "You were a child yourself."

  "I signed the papers he put in front of me twice, once when Kenny was born and six months later when he was adopted. After they took Kenny away, I was sick for several months. When I recovered, I tried to look for him on my own but I couldn’t find him. Then I found out I was going to have twins. Ray was thrilled when they were born."

  "What about Kenny?" Paul said.

  Sarah said, "I found out years later that Kenny was raised in the Bay Area. His adoptive parents divorced. The mother went on welfare. He had a hard time growing up. I kept looking for him over the years."

  "Kenny’s adoptive mother sat him down the day he turned eighteen and told him he was on his own," Leo said. "She told him that his biological parents were a rich couple up in Tahoe who wouldn’t lift a finger to help him. Oh, yeah, she knew. She had even contacted Ray several times over the years about getting financial help to correct Kenny’s medical conditions, but Ray refused. He never told Sarah."