Play Dead

I had planned this meeting even before Reggie was taken; I need to talk to Richard about what we’ve learned about Stacy. I don’t usually like to spring things on clients until I have all the facts, but we’re in the middle of trial, which means we don’t have the luxury of time.

If Stacy was in the witness protection program, then by definition there were very dangerous people after her. Exactly the kind of people I can point to in front of a jury and say, “They did it, not my client.” So what we will have to do is figure out a way to prove it, and get it admitted as evidence. That will be a difficult assignment, and Kevin is already trying to develop a strategy.

Richard is stunned and disbelieving when we tell him our theory. What is important is not his skepticism but rather his inability to prove it wrong. He cannot come up with a single fact that would give credibility to Stacy’s supposed background. He never met any of her previous friends, never visited where she had lived, and never knew her colleagues from work. She had always been vague, and Richard hadn’t pressed her, because he suspected emotional trauma from which she was trying to escape.

Her need to escape may well have been more urgent than that.

As we are preparing to go into court, I make a decision. “Kevin, you need to go to Minneapolis.”

He’s obviously surprised. “When?”

“First flight you can get. You can check out Stacy’s background personally, go to her high school, talk to her neighbors…”

He’s obviously not thrilled with the prospect. “Well, I could do that… but… I’ve got sinus issues,” he says.

“Sinus issues?”

He nods. “They’re inflamed. Taking off and landing could be a problem.”

“A serious problem?” I ask.

“Definitely. It could lead to an ear infection. Everything is connected.”

I turn to Richard, who has been listening to Kevin’s hypochondria with an open mouth. He should be careful about that, because something could enter his mouth and head straight for his ears, since everything is connected.

“Richard,” I say, “Kevin has a sinus condition that could lead to an ear infection if he takes off and lands. So are you okay spending the rest of your life in jail?”

He smiles. “No problem.”

I turn back to Kevin. “Richard is fine with it.”

Kevin sighs; the battle is lost. “I’ll call you when I get there.”

Kevin leaves; I think he’d rather be on the way to Minneapolis than have to be here when I tell Richard about Reggie. I debated keeping it from him, since there’s nothing he can do anyway, but I believe in being as honest as I can with my clients. Besides, with the police searching for Reggie, it’s likely to come to the media’s attention. If Richard is going to find out, I want it to be from me.

“Richard, something has happened, and I don’t have an easy way to tell you. There was a break-in at my house last night, and they took Reggie.”

He looks as if he has been hit with an emotional baseball bat, and it takes him a few minutes to recover enough to ask the obvious questions about who and why. I wish I had the answers to give him; all I can do is tell him that every effort will be made to find Reggie. He doesn’t seem comforted by that, and he shouldn’t be.

I head into court, though Richard has to be brought in by the bailiffs. I’ll miss having Kevin next to me; he often sees and points out things that I’ve missed. But we need to get a handle on who Stacy really was, in a hurry.

The testimony about Stacy that Hawpe elicits from his witnesses is no more impressive than in the first trial. He starts with two neighbors and two people from Stacy’s gym. All speak highly of her, though it is only the last woman, Susan Castro, who describes herself as Stacy’s “dear friend.” She had not described herself in that way during her testimony in the first trial, so unless she’s been attending a lot of séances, she’s been influenced by the publicity surrounding this one.

My questions for the first three witnesses are perfunctory, designed to elicit that they really didn’t know what was going on in Stacy’s life, that they were shocked by her death, and that they knew and liked Richard.

I decide to go further with Susan Castro, since I may need to point out later in the trial that Stacy deliberately avoided having any “dear friends,” because she was living a lie. I also do it for the childish reason that I don’t like Ms. Castro; she is essentially making this friendship up to draw attention to herself. The fact that Richard’s life is on the line is clearly not her first priority.

“You and Stacy Harriman were dear friends?” I ask.

“Yes, we certainly were,” she says.

“What does it mean to you to be ‘dear friends’ with someone?”

She seems taken aback by the question but then says, “I suppose it’s a willingness to share innermost feelings, to confide in a person and have them confide in you. To provide and receive comfort and support.”

“I see. Let’s go through a list of innermost feelings that your dear friend Stacy may have confided in you. Where was she born?”