Capitol Offense (30 page)

Guillerman drew himself up, folded his hands, and added calmly, “You swore an oath when you took a seat on this jury. You swore to apply the law. Nothing else. To apply the law. Please honor that oath.”

And with those words, DA Guillerman concluded.

Ben knew he could never match Guillerman in terms of oratory. He just wasn’t that slick, not even after spending time in the U.S. Senate. Guillerman was probably better than Ben would ever be. And he lacked the weapons in his arsenal to counter his content. In terms of dramatic potency, he simply had nothing to compete with the slaying of a public servant, husband, and father. Bottom line, Guillerman had the better case. If Ben was going to salvage this, he was going to have to take a different approach. Disarm the jury. Find another way to win.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, Mr. Guillerman is right. He’s absolutely right. You probably didn’t expect to hear me say that. But it’s true. He’s right.”

Out the corner of his eye, Ben saw his cohorts back at the table looking concerned. Dennis was no doubt wondering if Ben was throwing in the towel. Christina knew this wasn’t the closing she’d heard him practicing earlier in the day. Well, that was a fundamental part of criminal law—sometimes you had to make adjustments along the way.

“In the main, Mr. Guillerman has not misrepresented the facts. Shaded them in a dramatic manner, perhaps, but he has not misrepresented them. Dennis did in fact follow Detective Sentz. He did in fact go to that hotel room. And he did have a gun. He told you all this. He admitted it. So there’s absolutely no reason whatsoever why you should not find him guilty as charged.”

Ben turned and started back to the table. Several of the jurors appeared confused, concerned. There was a definite stir in the gallery.

Just as he reached the table, Ben stopped. “Unless, of course, you are concerned about justice.” He turned slowly to once again face the jury. “Because surely, even in this day and age, there must be some room for justice in what we almost mockingly call the criminal justice system.” He took a step closer. “As I listened to the words of the district attorney, I heard no consideration of justice whatsoever. In fact, I heard him explicitly ask you to disregard justice. And I think that is very sad.”

Ben continued to approach, gazing at the jury levelly. “Mr. Guillerman wants to suggest that a blackout could be faked, but I think you know better. The doctors testified that he was out for more than two hours and they were unable to wake him. No one is that good a faker. Dennis Thomas blacked out. So that leads to another question: why? Dr. Estevez explained it. He said that with Detective Sentz’s death, Dennis’s dissociative state burst like a popped balloon. The brain literally shut itself down to heal. What contrary evidence have you heard? None. What other evidence have you had to explain the blackout? None. The only explanation that has any evidence in support is that Dennis was gripped by temporary insanity. We have presented our evidence and the prosecution has not refuted it. We have also shown the numerous flaws in their supposedly airtight case. Does this give you sufficient cause for doubt?” Ben paused, letting the jury be reminded of the importance of that word. “Absolutely. An alternate explanation for what happened, never refuted by the prosecution, is always grounds for reasonable doubt. And a man acting while temporarily insane must be acquitted. Like it or not. That’s the law.”

Ben moved forward, casting a quick glance back at his table. He could see that Christina was still confused. But she wasn’t frowning.

He could definitely see concern in Dennis’s eyes, though. Worry. He hoped the jury couldn’t see it, too.

“The district attorney wants you to believe that this case is a referendum on Detective Sentz. To the extent that he is interested in justice at all, he wants justice for Sentz, his representative of the thin blue line. But Detective Sentz is not the one on trial today. Neither is the police department. Dennis Thomas is on trial. This is a referendum on him. You will decide his future.”

Ben moved to the side, inviting the jury to give the defendant another look. “Mr. Guillerman has repeatedly attempted to demonize this man. It’s not good enough for him to simply say his trauma after the loss of his wife led him to take an extreme action. He wants you to believe he’s evil. He wants you to believe he has an explosive temper, based on the scantiest of evidence. He wants you to believe he’s dangerous. He wants you to believe he’s a wife beater, based on one minor incident, one Dennis readily admitted. He wants to transform a man suffering from the worst sort of grief imaginable into Hannibal Lecter, a cold-hearted, scheming, calculating killer.”

Ben gestured back toward his client. “This man is a literature professor. He specializes in the classics.
The Iliad. The Odyssey
. His students like him, because he goes the extra mile to help them with their problems. He was a loving husband and his wife returned his love. Yes, he has problems, as do we all. But he is a good person, and that did not change in the least until he was hurled into a maelstrom of the most nightmarish events. Days on end of frustration and fear, unable to find his wife, unable to obtain the slightest cooperation from the ‘thin blue line.’ I don’t know whether you think the police are to blame for what they did—or did not do—but this is a fact: their failure to act when they could have acted resulted in the death of Joslyn Thomas. How would you feel about that if it were your spouse in the car? Or your mother? Or you?”

Enough of this. Ben moved to the side, blocking off their view of the defendant, closing in to make his final points. “Yes, Dennis reacted to his wife’s death in an extreme fashion. Regardless of what you think happened in that hotel room, it is clear that he did things he should not have done. But that in and of itself proves that his brain was not functioning in a normal manner. He was behaving extraordinarily—like he had never acted before. That is not a strike against him, as my opponent would suggest. That is perhaps your greatest evidence that Dennis was acting under the influence of an altered mental state. That most delicate of balances had been utterly skewered.”

Ben paused, giving the jury a chance to register all he had said. “I also have sympathy for Detective Sentz. I’m sure we all do. But that is simply not the subject of this trial. That is a side matter the DA has introduced to distract you from your task at hand. This case is about Dennis Thomas. It is possible to have sympathy for both men—indeed, I don’t see how we cannot. But Dennis Thomas is the one on trial. One man has died already. Do we need another? Haven’t we had enough death result from this tragic, almost Shakespearean series of events? Isn’t this exactly when we as a society should have the courage to resist the temptation to pursue revenge and retribution? The Bible says, ‘Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy.’ Mr. Guillerman thinks the fact that temporary insanity allows a jury to grant mercy is a bad thing. I think it’s perhaps the one final element that allows us to retain some semblance of justice in the criminal justice system.”

Ben folded his hands, signaling the jury that he was coming to a close. “Like Mr. Guillerman, I urge you to fulfill your oath. You agreed that you would listen to the judge’s instructions and would apply them to this case. The judge will read those instructions to you in a few minutes and you will be able to take a copy back with you to the deliberation room. All of them are important, but two are paramount. One that says that in order to convict, you must find the defendant guilty beyond a reasonable doubt. If you find the degree of proof is anything less than that, you must acquit Dennis. It is not a choice. If you believe the case against him has not been proved, if doubts still linger in your mind, you must set this good man free and let him get on with his life. And if you believe that he was temporarily insane, you also must acquit him.”

Ben moved in closer. “Let’s be honest here. Dennis is not a criminal. These circumstances will never be repeated. He is no danger to society. Hasn’t there been enough death already?”

Ben held up his hands like trays on opposite ends of a scale. “Justice? Mercy? Or retribution. The choice is yours.”

Ben gazed at them one final time, making eye contact with each. Then he took his seat at the table.

The judge read his instructions to the jury, then cautioned them about what they could and could not do in the course of deliberation. Less than half an hour later, they were dismissed. The bailiff led them back to the main deliberation room, where they would remain for the foreseeable future.

After the court session was adjourned and the spectators were leaving, Christina tapped Ben on the sleeve. “Just so you know, I thought your closing was brilliant.”

He smiled a little. “Persuasive?”

She did not answer immediately. “Brilliant.”

Dennis swiveled around in his chair. His eyes seemed dark, tired. The strain of the trial was definitely showing on him. Probably on all of them.

“But was it enough?” Dennis asked, keeping his voice low so no one would hear. “Will they believe it?”

Ben did not immediately answer.

“I was watching their eyes, but I couldn’t tell what they were thinking.”

“We’ll talk about it when we get out of here.”

Dennis appeared surprised. “We’re leaving? Going back to the office?”

Ben began packing up his trial materials. “I think we should all go home. I have a feeling the jury is going to be out for a good long time.”

Loving did a double take. “Mike?”

“Yeah. You’re sure Ben isn’t lurking around somewhere?”

“He’s busy with the trial. What are you doing here?”

“Keep your voice down.” Mike glanced up the hill. It was a steep slope they had just rolled down, but there were still men in the driveway waiting for Dr. Sentz to return with the mysterious goods. “We don’t want to tip off those smugglers upstairs.”

“Do you know what’s goin’ on? What they’re doin’?”

“Don’t you?”

“Well …”

“Then why are you here?”

“I’m tryin’ to find out who killed Christopher Sentz.”

“I thought that was obvious.”

“Ben doesn’t think so.”

“What else is new? Ben thinks all his clients are pure as driven snow. Even the cop killers.”

“Yeah, but I’m beginnin’ to think he may be right this time. Something weird was goin’ on at that hotel.”

Mike cocked his head slightly. “And you think that has something to do with the smuggling ring?”

“I know Peter Shaw is one of the goons up in that driveway. And he was also at the hotel that day.”

“Then the foxes were guarding the henhouse.” Mike paused a moment. “You know, that would explain a few questions I’ve had.”

“Why are you tracking smugglers, anyway? Isn’t homicide your beat?”

“There was a homicide. A man who died in the most grotesque manner.”

“Some kinda mutilation?”

“Worse. Intense radiation poisoning. What the docs call ARS—acute radiation syndrome. Burns all over the body, even more serious internal damage. Organs baked from the inside out. Immune system shutdown. GI tract disintegrated. Stomach lining aspirated. Stress on the body triggers a cardiac arrest in the most painful—”

“I get the idea.”

“That’s what started my investigation.”

Loving remembered the radiation warnings he had seen on the hospital doors in the oncology wing. “There’s something inside the hospital? Something dangerous?”

“Very dangerous. And valuable. If you’re a terrorist.”

Loving glanced up the side of the hill, making sure they weren’t doing anything to attract the attention of the men waiting for Dr. Sentz to come out with the contraband. “Can you clue me in?”

“Ever heard of cesium?”

“Can’t say that I have.”

“It’s one of several radioactive materials used by hospitals today for radiation therapy. That’s one of many purposes. It’s also used in the oil industry to create a more effective drilling fluid. Scientists use it in atomic clocks. Photoelectric cells. But cancer treatment hospitals are the primary users in the United States.”

“For what, chemo?”

“It’s primarily used to treat gynecological cancers.”

Loving thought for a moment. “That was Joslyn Thomas’s specialty.”

“Cervical and uterine cancers?”

Loving nodded.

“Apparently they place the cesium inside a woman’s uterus to irradiate the cancerous growth.” Mike swore under his breath. “That’s the real irony here. The same stuff docs use to cure cancer patients can also be used by murderers and terrorists to make dirty bombs.”

“Dirty bombs? Is that for real? I thought that was a myth. Like Red Mercury.”

“Just because we haven’t seen one explode in the United States doesn’t make it any less real.
Dirty bomb
is basically a catchphrase for any radiological dispersal device. A weapon that combines conventional explosives with radioactive material.”

“Does that make it more effective?”

“In a way. You can actually kill more people immediately with conventional bombs. The primary purpose of the dirty bomb is to spread radioactive material over a large area. High-intensity exposure to radiation can kill a person in a few hours. If released in a limited and controlled environment, it could make the place uninhabitable for centuries. In any scenario, thousands could be irradiated. Even if it’s not fatal, you know what that means.”

“Panic.”

Mike nodded grimly. “Terror. Which is the primary objective of terrorists.”

“How hard are these bombs to make?”

“Unfortunately, not very. Contact with water is enough to set cesium off. Ice, even. Like all alkali metals, it’s highly reactive.”

Loving’s lips tightened. “Criminy. I thought this case was about vengeance. Not weapons of mass destruction.”

“More like weapons of mass disruption. It’s all about the psychological effect. Which can actually be a great deal more devastating than killing a lot of people in an explosion.”

“You think those guys up there are terrorists?”