Presumption of Guilt (4 page)

“When the police took you in for questioning, you confessed.”

“I kept telling them I didn’t do it. Over and over. They told me they found the knife used to stab them and only my fingerprints were on it. They said fragments of my skin were under my mother’s fingernails. And I did have a scratch on my arm, but I always scratched myself in my sleep. The police said I didn’t remember doing it because I’d taken Ambien. After hours of going around and around, I felt so confused. I began to think I must have. They wrote something out and I signed it. I didn’t even read what they wrote.

“After they locked me up, after I’d eaten and slept, I knew no drug could make me forget doing something so horrible. But it was too late.” A desperate, tortured look overtook her. “You don’t think it could, do you?”

“Could what?”

“Make me forget murdering my parents.”

“I don’t know.”

It made it so much easier for Dani when the prisoners shouted their innocence. She wanted to believe everyone, even though she knew some—most—were lying. Yet, when a truly innocent person looked her in the eyes and said, “I didn’t do it,” when his or her body language spoke to that truth, then Dani knew she would fight relentlessly for that person’s freedom.

Was Molly innocent? The answer wasn’t clear to Dani. She had no business sitting across from this woman and giving her false hope. Bruce didn’t want HIPP to take her case. Molly couldn’t even state with conviction that she hadn’t murdered her parents. The smart course was to pick up her briefcase, give Molly her regrets, and leave.

Instead, Dani smiled and said, “Let me read up on your case. I’ll get back to you soon.”

On the drive home, Dani knew she was in trouble. Given Bruce’s adamancy, any work on Molly’s case would have to be on her own. At least until she could figure out whether she believed in Molly’s innocence. And if she got to that point? Well, she guessed she’d figure out then how to convince Bruce to take her on.

The clouds had crept across the sky during the hour Dani spent inside the walls of the prison, and now drops of rain began to splash against her front window. She turned on the windshield wipers, and the rhythmic swoosh pushed aside her worries about Bruce. September rain smelled different than spring rain, she thought. It carried the odor of dying leaves instead of spring’s new buds. It signaled an ending of warm summer days, of sandy beaches, of family vacations. Some people looked forward to winter—to building snowmen and schussing down ski slopes, to huddling with their partner in front of a fireplace crackling with burning logs. Once Dani had enjoyed those activities, too.. But as she’d grown older, she’d begun to dislike the cold, the ice, the treacherous roads. From time to time she entertained the thought of moving to California, away from New York’s harsh winters and humid summers. Any law school would grab Doug up. And she could get another job, maybe in a large law firm, defending white-collar criminals. No one was sentenced to death for competing unfairly, or defrauding customers, or attempting to monopolize a market. She wouldn’t have to face the prospect of failing to free an innocent client, knowing that he would be executed if she didn’t succeed. She wouldn’t have to feel her heart break a little more each time she turned down a request for help from someone facing the rest of his life in jail because there wasn’t enough money or enough time to help every wrongly convicted prisoner. And she wouldn’t have to tell a woman languishing in prison since she was eighteen that she would never get to know her daughter because Dani wasn’t permitted to help her.

She arrived home to an empty house and a note attached to the refrigerator door with a magnet. “Gone to the movies. We’ll be home before dinner.”

“Damn,” she muttered. Jonah had been pestering them all week to see
Despicable Me 2
. At first she wondered why he hankered for a children’s film, until she realized she wanted to see it herself. Now they’d gone without her.

Without them home, the house seemed eerily quiet. No television blaring in the background, no music blasting from the radio, no sound of feet traipsing across the wood floors. The silence engulfed her and created a sense of disquiet.

Dani fought it off. She plopped down on the living room couch and wondered what she’d do with this gift of time to herself, a rarity since she’d started working again. She knew what she should do—begin researching Molly’s conviction. Or get ahead on some of the cases awaiting her in the office. Instead, she rested her head on the sofa’s pillow, closed her eyes, and drifted off to sleep.

C
HAPTER

6

D
ani dreaded her inevitable confrontation with Bruce. She’d sped past his office when she arrived an hour earlier, with just a quick wave and a mumbled hello as she made her way to her own space. None of the usual Monday-morning pleasantries were exchanged. She didn’t pop her head inside and ask about his weekend. She didn’t wait for him to ask about hers. They’d worked together over four years and had long ago progressed past being mere colleagues. Although they rarely socialized outside the office, they were friends. They exchanged stories about their families, laughed at each other’s quirks, shared a familiarity that was bred from working closely together over life and death matters.

After two hours spent on an appeal for one of her clients, Dani ambled over to Bruce’s office. She stopped along the way to chat with Vicky, her favorite paralegal, sitting at one of the many desks crowded together on the open floor. Unable to stall any longer, she stood outside his doorway. As usual, Bruce’s door was open, and he sat with his chair turned toward the only window, dictating into a machine. Dani stepped inside and plopped down on a chair.

“Hi.”

Bruce swiveled around to face her, replacing the handset of the Dictaphone in its cradle.

“What’s up?”

“Molly Singer.”

Dani saw a frown cross Bruce’s face before he caught himself. With his mouth set, he said, “I thought we already settled that. We’re not taking her case.”

“I met with her over the weekend.” Dani waited for the expected explosion. They were rare with Bruce, but when pushed over the line, whether by an obstructionist warden, a reluctant court clerk, or one of his staff, he could erupt. Afterward, he inevitably described his outburst as a tactic, designed to keep the recipient in check, but Dani suspected otherwise. Bruce was simply human, and as such he occasionally lost control. Despite Dani’s fear that this would be one of those times, she was met with silence.

“I think she was railroaded, Bruce. And whatever you think of her sister’s resources, they’re not available to Molly.”

Bruce continued his silence. He picked up a pencil from his desk and fiddled with it between his fingers, all the while glaring at Molly.

“Say something.”

After what seemed like an interminable stretch of quiet, Bruce said, “There’s nothing to say. I’ve given you my decision.”

Now it was Dani’s turn to glare silently. Finally, Bruce picked up the Dictaphone. “I have work to do. I assume you do as well.” He swung his chair around to once again face his window.

Dani stood up to leave, then stopped. She was a fighter. She fought with judges and prosecutors for her clients’ freedom; she fought with school administrators to get Jonah the best teachers. She’d never fought with Bruce before—they were allies. But she wasn’t ready to walk away from Molly Singer. She sat down again.

“You’re wrong.”

Bruce swung his chair around. “Excuse me?”

“You made a decision when you didn’t have all the facts. From the beginning, the one point you’ve drilled into me has been, ‘Dig for the facts.’ We’re supposed to make decisions based on the facts of the case, not some preconceived notion of a client. You based your decision on what you remembered reading about Molly’s case when it was first tried.”

“You’re off base.”

“I don’t think so. Melanie told me you turned it down because her parents were wealthy. But you didn’t know then that her inheritance was forfeited when she was convicted. And you didn’t know that her sister wouldn’t pay for her appeals.”

“I also remembered that she confessed to the murders. What makes you think she’s innocent?”

“I’m not sure. None of us are ever sure until we start digging into the case. All I’m asking is to start digging.”

A smile slowly crept across Bruce’s face. “Okay. Go ahead.”

“And also—wait. Did you just say we could take the case?”

Bruce nodded, his smile broadening. “I just wanted to see how hard you would fight for it.”

“You skunk. Why did you put me through that?”

Bruce’s smile disappeared. “This isn’t a DNA case, Dani. You’ll have a tough challenge proving she’s innocent—if indeed she is. I needed to see if you were fully committed.”

Dani walked back to her office, unsure if she had won a battle that she would come to regret.

Settled in her chair, Dani began where she always did—with an Internet search of Molly’s conviction. She started with newspaper accounts.

Hudson Valley Dispatch, September 24, 2000

Molly Singer Guilty on Two Counts of Second-Degree Murder

Byline: Shannon Evans

After three weeks of testimony, the jury took only four hours to return a guilty verdict for second-degree murder against 18-year-old Molly Singer, arrested five months ago for the murder of her parents, Joseph Singer, 48, and Sarah Singer, 46. Both were found dead in their Andersonville home on May 2 of this year.

The only solid evidence presented by the prosecution was her confession, recanted almost as soon as it was given. With a paucity of forensic evidence to back up the confession, the district attorney’s office relied on testimony from Ms. Singer’s classmates at Munsee High School to show her long-standing resentment toward her parents and the restrictions they’d placed on her. Classmates described her as a spoiled rich girl, used to getting her way and prone to angry outbursts when she didn’t.

Although Robert McDonald, Ms. Singer’s attorney, elicited testimony from Molly’s closest friends that painted a different picture, it wasn’t enough to overcome the most damning witness: Molly Singer’s boyfriend of two years, Finn Reynolds. Mr. Reynolds told the jury that he was with Ms. Singer the night before her parents were found dead in their beds. He stated that Mr. and Mrs. Singer were trying to separate the couple, but Molly told him that night that she would do whatever she had to in order for them to be together.

Sentencing is scheduled for September 28
.

Dani pushed away from the computer. Donna had mentioned that Finn had testified against Molly. The prosecutor couldn’t have known of their conversation without Finn bringing it up, yet the couple were supposedly in love. Dani jotted down a note to ask Molly about Finn.

The rest of the day was spent reading the appellate decisions in Molly’s case. Although it gave her some sense of the defense strategy, her real understanding of the case wouldn’t come until she got a copy of the trial transcript. Dani had heard of Robert McDonald. He had a reputation as a top-notch litigator. A claim of ineffective counsel wouldn’t be available to her as an avenue of appeal.

By the time Dani finished her review, it was past four o’clock, an hour later than the time she usually left the office. It meant she wouldn’t be home to greet Jonah when he returned from school. Instead, Katie, his sitter—an absolute godsend—would watch over him.

On her way out, Dani stopped by Bruce’s office. “I’m going over to Bedford Correctional tomorrow morning, before I come into the office,” she said. “I’ve decided to sign up Molly.”

“So you think she’s innocent?”

“I don’t know—but those letters, they might mean something. Or lead to something. And I want to find out where.”

C
HAPTER

7

T
he buzzer on the intercom didn’t stop, despite the county executive’s strict instruction to his secretary to hold his calls. Reluctantly, he grabbed the telephone.

“Jeannette, I told you—”

“I know, I know, Mr. Reynolds, but it’s Sheriff Engles and he was insistent.”

After a moment’s hesitation, he said, “Okay, put him through.”

When the phone rang again, Frank Reynolds picked it up quickly. “John, what can I do for you?”

“Is the line safe?” Engles asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Is it safe? Could anybody else be listening in?”

Reynolds wanted to laugh at him. Engles liked drama, always finding conspiracies where none existed. Still, even the paranoid were sometimes correct. So he withheld his snicker. “Of course it’s safe. Who do you think could hear us?”

“Well, your secretary for one. The woman’s the biggest gossip around. I wouldn’t put it past her to be listening in on your calls. Especially one from me.”

Reynolds sighed. Jeannette was pushing fifty, had worked in government offices for over twenty years, and was the most efficient secretary he’d ever had. It was ludicrous to think she’d monitor his phone calls. Still—he’d been wrong about others before. “If you’re so concerned, call me back on my cell. You’ve got the number.”

A few minutes later, Reynolds’s cell phone vibrated and he answered it immediately. “This better be important, John.”

“Maybe, maybe not. But I thought you needed to know. Molly Singer has a new attorney. From the Help Innocent Prisoners Project. Came to see her on Saturday.”

Molly Singer. At first, he’d felt pity for the girl. After all, he’d known her since she was a baby. But twelve men and women put her behind bars and, after many years, he’d decided that it was meant to be. Now he rarely gave her any serious consideration, not even when he saw Molly’s daughter. Not even when she smiled the same way Molly used to, her green eyes crinkling at the edges.

“How do you know?”

“I have my sources.”