Total pages in book: 179
Estimated words: 173733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 869(@200wpm)___ 695(@250wpm)___ 579(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 173733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 869(@200wpm)___ 695(@250wpm)___ 579(@300wpm)
Chapter seventy-four
Cat
The minute Reese’s eyes meet mine in the courtroom I know that he’s on a mission and everyone that stands in his way is going to feel the pain. The chaos has come together as a perfect storm, and for Reese, that isn’t more chaos. He has this incredible way of centering himself and focusing, that I’ve seen in actions, but never with this much weight on his shoulders. I’m in awe and I prepare for what I know will be a dynamic day in court. I’m actually impatient as the jury and judge take their places, eager to get started and it starts with a bang.
The prosecution is now up, and Milton Wicker, the lead prosecutor, who in a blue suit and looking rather gaunt today, remains in control. His first order of business is to cast Reese’s table a dramatic stare before he calls Officer Marks; a tall, fit, fifty-something officer with salt and pepper hair who’d responded to the crime scene to the stand. Milton proceeds to go through a series of useless questions that all center around Dana’s behavior when she discovered her father dead. “Did Ms. Warren cry?”
“No, she did not,” Officer Marks replies.
“Did she appear to grieve in any other way?”
“No, she did not.”
I expect Reese to object but he doesn’t, which means he has a plan, and he’s letting the prosecutor walk into a trap. This questioning drags out and presents absolutely no evidence that Dana killed her father. It’s all about making her look like a spoiled rich daughter who was after her father’s money. Finally, it’s Reese’s turn to question the officer.
He stands up and approaches the stand. “First, thank you for your service, Officer Marks. Our men in blue are underappreciated.”
Officer Marks’ eyes light with appreciation. “It’s my honor to serve the fine citizens of New York City.”
“How long have you been on the force?”
“Twenty-one years,” the officer states.
“Ask and answered previously,” the prosecutor yells out.
“I have a short memory,” Reese replies, but he moves on.
“How many death investigations, murder or otherwise, have you investigated?”
“Fifty-one if you include non-criminal acts such as accidents and natural causes.”
“That’s a large number,” Reese comments. “How many loved ones, spouses, daughters, sons, and significant family members and friends of those people did you interact with?”
“Hundreds.”
“Of those hundreds, how many were deeply connected to one of the deceased?” Reese asks.
“All of them.”
“How many of those people, when told they’d lost someone close to them, cried?” Reese asks.
“Roughly seventy percent,” Officer Marks replies.
“In other words, if you talked to three hundred people, at least ninety of them didn’t cry.”
“Correct,” Officer Marks says.
“Did you find this strange?” Reese asks.
“Objection,” the prosecutor shouts. “Leading the witness and speculation.”
“I’ll rephrase,” Reese says. “Is it true, officer, that you’ve been trained to observe and expect certain physiological reactions from individuals involved in death investigations?”
“Yes.”
“How many hours?”
“It’s ongoing,” Officer Marks replies. “Hundreds of hours. Our training is constantly on repeat. It’s impossible to log the number of hours.”
“Hundreds of hours,” Reese repeats. “And based on this training, what is a normal reaction to grief?”
“There’s a wide range of normal reactions.”
“Is it normal to cry?”
“Yes,” Officer Marks replies.
“Is it normal not to cry?” Reese asks.
“Yes,” he answers again.
“Why is this a normal reaction?”
“Shock is a key factor,” Officer Marks explains. “They aren’t fully processing the death to be real. The body often shuts down to protect us from what we can’t handle. It’s survival.”
“How many homicides have you investigated?” Reese asks.
“Twenty.”
“During those investigations, did you have close family members demonstrate this type of shock?”
“Yes,” Officer Marks replies.
“Of those people who went into shock and shut down, how many of those were guilty of the crimes?”
“Ten percent.”
“Ten percent. In other words, another ninety percent of those close to the victims who did not cry were not responsible for the homicide?”
“Correct.”
“How many of the people who cried when they were given news of the death were responsible for the homicides?”
“I would say at least forty percent.”
“Thank you,” Reese says. “I’m done with the witness.”
Milton stands up. “Redirect, your honor?”
The judge nods and Milton turns to the officer once more, “Did Ms. Warren give you any other reason, outside of her emotional withdrawal, to suspect her guilt?”
“She was confused about where she’d been during certain hours,” Officer Marks states. “We needed a solid alibi and at the time she didn’t give me one.”
The prosecutor sits down. Reese stands up. “Judge? Two more questions?”
“One, counselor.”
Reese doesn’t argue. He focuses on the officer. “Is it normal to be confused when you are in shock?” Reese asks.
“Yes,” Officer Marks replies.
I let out a breath. Reese nailed that witness and the morning passes with Reese wiping the floor with the prosecutor over and over. Finally, the last witness before the break: Martha. The secretary. She approaches the stand, a pretty brunette not much older than forty, if that. Milton, the prosecutor starts out hard and fast. “How long did you work for the deceased?”