Greed and a Mistress Page 19

  “Isn’t lying on the stand perjury?” Carl asked.

  “It is the last I heard,” Michael said. “Except charging Mark’s mother is probably not worth the trouble. That’s what it always boils down to.”

  “You mean lots of people lie?”

  “What rock do you live under, Carl?”

  AT EXACTLY ONE O’CLOCK in the afternoon, the court was called to order and the DA asked to give his closing arguments. The courtroom was filled to capacity again when he adjusted the portrait of the victim so it faced the jury. The Assistant District Attorney’s assistant was back, the fingerprints and the photos were on the pull-down screen near the jury box, and as he spoke, his assistant enlarged each corresponding photograph to emphasize the point.

  “Ladies and Gentlemen,” Davis began as he walked to stand in front of the jury. His limp was not as pronounced as it had been the day before, “the defense would have you believe that anyone and everyone except Mark Barrett murdered Mrs. Amelia Lockhart. So let’s look at the real and very solid evidence. Two witnesses, the postman and the housekeeper, saw Mark Barrett in the neighborhood shortly before the murder. They remembered him distinctly, because he wore the blue slip-on tennis shoes that mysteriously disappeared.

  Mr. Barrett’s fingerprint, to the exclusion of all others, was found on the door inside Mrs. Lockhart’s house. It was not an outside door – it was the door to her bedroom. Not one single person came before you to prove he was in that house for any reason other than to brutally and without mercy, execute Mrs. Lockhart.” Davis paused to take a sip of water.

  “Mark Barrett did it for money. In fact, he did it for ten-thousand dollars, the exact amount the detective found under a bush in Mr. Barrett’s backyard. The next and probably the most incriminating evidence is, of course, the necklace. Lexi Hamilton testified that Mark gave it to her as a gift. It wasn’t the most intelligent thing to do, but...”

  “Objection,” Livingston moaned. “Could we not comment on the defendant’s intelligence again?”

  “Sustained. Move on, Counselor.”

  Davis slightly smiled. “As I was saying, Lexi Hamilton has no reason to lie about who gave her the necklace. She could have just kept it, but when she discovered it looked like the one Mrs. Lockhart was wearing, she did the right thing and called someone she trusted. She called Deputy Musgrave.

  “Now, there is the issue of the missing cellphone. One day, he has it and the next he doesn’t. He specifically doesn’t have it the day after he committed this heinous crime. Was he hired to kill her, and was the cellphone his link to that person? We don’t know, and it is not an issue in this case. This case is about suspicious activity before the murder and about a man whose coworker said he acted nervous and unfocused the day after the murder.

  “This is a simple case, Ladies and Gentlemen. We have a fingerprint with a distinct scar, a necklace, and ten thousand dollars hidden in the backyard, and suspicious activity both before and after the murder. The state contends that the evidence points to only one man – Mark Barrett.”

  Davis casually walked back to his table and sat down.

  “I’m convinced,” said Carl.

  “Me too,” Michael agreed. “Jackie, Holly doesn’t look too well.”

  Jackie instantly turned to look at her. “Are you okay?”

  Holly took a deep breath. “Yes, I’m fine.” A tear rolled down her cheek, but she quickly brushed it away.

  When Jackie looked, the judge was again watching. As soon as Livingston stood up, the judge directed his attention to the jury. None of them seemed upset.

  “Mr. Livingston, do you care to present any closing arguments?” the judge asked.

  Livingston stood up. “Your honor, will the state kindly remove his exhibits?”

  Davis acted surprised and quickly cleared the images, but Livingston wasn’t buying it. He walked to the screen, pulled it down a little, and then let it recoil back into the ceiling. Without any notes, he too approached the jury.

  “Ladies and Gentlemen, as I said in the beginning, you must consider the preponderance of evidence. What we have is a purely circumstantial case. The DA presented no witnesses to the murder, no bloody clothes, no murder weapon, and no proof that Mark Barrett has ever even owned a gun. No blood or guns were found in either his home or his vehicle, and anyone could have put the money in Mark Barrett’s backyard to make it look like he committed the crime.

  “A defendant is not required to testify in his own behalf. It is up to the state to prove he is guilty. Therefore, Mr. Barrett chose not to explain how his fingerprint got on Mrs. Lockhart’s bedroom door.

  “About the necklace. Isn’t it a little odd that Lexi Hamilton happened to find a picture of Mrs. Lockhart’s necklace online? You heard her say Mark Barrett gave her the necklace, but was she telling the truth? She not only knows Slone Lockhart, he gave her a new car after his mother’s death. Why?

  “Mrs. Lockhart’s children thought they stood to gain a great deal of money when their mother died. Now, that’s tempting for children who admit they not only didn’t love her. Melissa didn’t even like her mother.

  “I submit that Mark Barrett has been framed for a murder he didn’t commit.

  Ladies and Gentlemen, that’s what you are here to decide. Again, I remind you that you must decide according to the preponderance of the evidence. If there is a question in your mind...the slightest question, you must find in favor of the defendant and set him free.

  “The defense, on behalf of Mark Barrett and his family thanks you for being here.” Livingston slightly bowed, and then went to sit down.

  “Rebuttal, Mr. Davis?” asked the judge.

  “Yes, Your honor.”

  Davis pulled the screen back down while his assistant put the two fingerprint images back up and enlarged them. “Ladies and Gentlemen, the state also thanks you for being here. The state of Oregon represents a kind, generous, elderly woman who cannot speak to us today. She cannot tell us what happened or who took her life. Yet, Amelia Ann Lockhart cries out for justice and it is up to us to give it to her.

  “On the screen is the one piece of evidence the defense cannot excuse away – Mark Barrett’s fingerprint. He was there, ladies and gentlemen...he was there, and his fingerprint proves it. He stood a mere two feet away, put his finger on the trigger of a .38 Special, and sent a searing bullet right through Mrs. Lockhart’s brain.

  “For her sake and the sake of her children, find him guilty as charged.”

  There was dead silence in the courtroom as Davis retook his seat.

  JUDGE BLACKWELL SLIGHTLY cleared his throat. “Ladies and Gentlemen, the court also wishes to thank you for your time and dedication to this case. We have a judicial system that works only when average citizens such as yourselves are willing to participate.

  “When you retire to deliberate, you will be given a set of instructions as to how you are to reach a verdict. If at any at time, you find the instructions confusing, the foreman is to pass a note to the bailiff and I will bring you back in to explain.

  “You are the sole judge of the facts and the credibility of each and all of the witnesses. You must separate the evidence that is relevant to this case and set aside that which is not. There are two issues in this case. The first is the guilt or the innocence of the defendant, Mark Barrett. In other words, did the defendant personally and intentionally commit the homicide? The second concerns the theft of Mrs. Lockhart’s jewels. You are instructed to vote on each issue separate from the other. Both must be decided according to the standard of proof, which is determined by the preponderance of evidence. If you find the defendant guilty, your findings must be beyond a reasonable doubt.

  “Murder in the first degree is a serious crime and you are instructed to take your deliberations seriously as well.” He paused to look the jury over and then said, “Bailiff, you may remove the jury.” He waited until they were gone, tapped his gavel, stood up, and left the courtroom.

  “All rise?
”

  Everyone did except Holly. Jackie quickly sat back down. “It’s okay to cry, you know.”

  Holly watched the two bailiffs remove her husband. “I know. I didn’t think it would affect me as much as it has today. I guess imagining Mark as he pulled the trigger got to me.”

  “I can see why. The DA was trying to make it real for the jury.”

  “It worked. I wonder how long it will take the jury to reach a verdict.”

  “I doubt anyone knows. Why don’t you go back to your hotel and rest?”

  “I think I will.”

  “You don’t have to be here when the verdict is read. I’m sure it will be on the news.”

  “I know. Maybe I’ll skip that part. I miss my little girls so much. All I want to do is go home, but Mark sent a note asking me to go see him in jail. I guess I should say goodbye. Besides, I have to tell him about the divorce papers.”

  “Might as well get it over with.”

  “Might as well.”

  IT WAS NEARLY SEVEN o’clock that evening when the jury came back with a verdict. Holly wasn’t there, but Jackie was, and this time, she wasn’t wearing the earpiece or the pendant with the camera inside. She sat on the prosecution’s side right behind Atticus Lockhart. Mrs. Lockhart’s other three children were nowhere in sight. Mark’s parents sat where they always did – behind their son, and the rest was filled with members of the press, complete with notepads, cellphones, blackberries, and pen and paper.

  The foreman handed the verdict to the bailiff, who handed it to the judge. Judge Blackwell looked it over and in turn, he handed it to the court clerk. “The defendant shall rise for the reading of the verdict,” he said.

  The clerk facing the defendant said the words everyone wanted to hear – guilty of murder in the first degree – guilty of theft.

  As soon as the jury was dismissed and the judge left, members of the press scurried out the door with the news. Mark Barrett cried, was allowed to hold his sobbing mother for a moment, and didn’t seem to notice his wife was not there. After Mark was taken away, his devastated parents walked out. Atticus soon followed.

  Alone in the courtroom was Jackie Harlan, owner of the Jackie Harlan Detective Agency and the portrait of Amelia Ann Lockhart. At length, Jackie stood up and nodded. “Rest in peace, Amelia,” she muttered as she turned and walked out.

  That night on the news, the headline was – guilty and wife agrees! They speculated he would get 20 years to life with no possibility of parole.

  THE NEXT DAY, WITH Carl and Michael waiting in the car, Jackie hesitated for just a moment before she knocked on the door. She saw the curtain move in the window and then watched as the door opened. “Hello, I’m Jackie Harlan,” she said.

  “You were at the trial,” said Natalie, “I saw you.”

  “Yes, I was. I wondered if we could talk for a moment.”

  “Not about the case, I hope. I’m not allowed to discuss it.”

  “No, it’s about another matter.”

  “I see. Well, come in. Sorry the place is a mess. I haven’t had much time to clean.” Natalie moved some clothes she was folding off the couch so Jackie could sit down, and then sat on a footstool nearby. “What’s up?”

  “I am with the Harland Detective Agency, and we have reason to believe you are a missing child.”

  Natalie picked up a towel and began to fold it. “Oh.”

  “Your father hired us to find you.”

  She set the towel in her lap and smiled. “Do you know I met him once? He gave a speech at the university I attended. He is a very smart man. I like to think I take after him.”

  “Then you know who your father is?”

  “I have always known. Oh, dear, forgive my manners. Would you like something to drink?”

  “No thank you. Natalie, if you knew about him, why didn’t you ever get in touch with him.”

  “Because mother made me promise not to. He hurt her. I don’t mean physically and she didn’t say what happened, but I think he was unfaithful. You know, I think she still loved him, even up to the day she died.” Natalie paused. “I think about calling him sometimes, but a promise is a promise.”

  “He loves you very much and paid a fortune to find out what happened to you. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt just to let him know you are alive and well.”

  She picked up the towel again, and then set it right back down in her lap. “That would be the kind thing to do, only...”

  “Only, he would want to know more?” Jackie guessed.

  “Yes. I am caught between a promise, and doing what I know is good and kind.”

  “At our agency, we have a policy. If you say you do not want to be found, then we won’t tell anyone where you are. We won’t even tell him we found you, if you prefer it that way.”

  “Really? You would do that?”

  “I assure you, we would, and everyone who hires us knows that in advance.”

  Natalie whimsically looked up at the ceiling. “You know, I never imaged he was actually looking for me. It’s kind of nice to know.”

  “You stand to inherit quite a lot of money.”

  Natalie giggled. “That kind of money can get people killed, you know.”

  “Indeed.”

  “Do you know who hired Mark Barrett?”

  “No, and I sure wish we did.”

  “Me too. They shouldn’t be allowed to get away with it.”

  “No, they shouldn’t. Sometimes people do stupid things they regret later.”

  “You mean like my mother making me promise not to notify my father?”

  “Possibly.”

  “She died suddenly in a car accident, so I have no way of knowing if she would have regretted it someday.” Natalie stared at the floor for a long moment. “Do you have his phone number?”

  “I do. He is in India at the moment.” Jackie reached in her purse and pulled out a business card with her father’s phone number written on the back. She held it out and for a moment, it didn’t look like Natalie would take it. Finally, she did.

  “I could just tell him I’m okay, right?”

  “Yes, He can see the number you call from, don’t forget.”

  “Oh, that’s right. Well, maybe I don’t want to hide from him. With mother gone, I don’t have any other family.”

  Jackie stood up. “Your real name is Charlotte and the decision is yours. I have to be going. There is someone else I need to see before we leave Portland.”

  Natalie hopped up and walked her guest to the door. “So my father has been trying to find me all these years?”

  “For many, many years.”

  Natalie suddenly hugged Jackie. “Thank you.” She watched Jackie get in the black stretch limousine, closed her door, sat on her sofa, and picked up her cellphone. “I wonder what time it is in India.”

  An hour later, Jackie’s cellphone rang. She pulled it out of her purse, turned it on, and read the text from the Ambassador. “Thank you.” Was all it said, but then, that’s all she needed to hear.

  Jackie smiled. “One down, one to go.”

  WHILE JACKIE MADE HER way to her next destination, Holly went to see Mark in jail. A glass window separated them, and that was just fine with Holly. As soon as he picked up his end of the telephone, she said, “You can tell me now. Who hired you?”

  Mark deeply frowned. “You think I killed her?”

  “Oh, for pity’s sake, Mark, tell me the truth for once.”

  He dropped his tough guy demeanor, glanced at the guard and lowered his voice. “The instructions were in a voice mail and it was muffled. I had to listen to it three times. I botched the job the first time, but she called and said she would have me killed if I didn’t go through with it.”

  “It was a woman?”

  “I think so.”

  “Where did you get the cellphone?”

  “It was just lying there on my desk at the office. I was so drunk the night before that I didn’t know what I was agreeing to. I don’t even remembe
r who I talked to.”

  “Who did you call?”

  “I didn’t call anyone. She called me.”

  “Did you get the cellphone the day Alfred said he heard it ring?”

  “Yes. It rang about ten minutes after I got to work.”

  Holly paused to think of just the right way to ask the next question. “It was very smart of you to get rid of all the evidence. Did you have help?”

  “Some guy wearing sunglasses was waiting beside my car. At least I think it was a guy. It was dark, he didn’t say anything and I didn’t get a good look at him. He handed me a pair of shorts and a shirt, and made me take everything off including my shoes. He took my clothes, the cell phone and the gun, and then ran off down the street.”

  “What did you do with the clothes he gave you?”

  “I burned them that morning. Holly, I don’t have a lot of time. Honey, I am so glad to see you. I have some bad news though.”

  “What?”

  “They don’t allow conjugal visits in Oregon prisons.”

  “Oh.” Holly tried to look disappointed. “How are you...in here, I mean?”

  “I’m okay. Honey, I need a few things for when I go to prison.”

  “Like what?”

  He acted disgusted as though she should already know and raised his voice. “Like a TV for one thing, but the thing is, you can’t just send me the one we have at home. You have to buy a new one and have the store send it. The guards worry about contraband.”

  “A TV? Do they have cable?”

  “Yes, thank God. I need a radio too. See if you can get one with a police ban. I’d love that, and money for the canteen.”

  “How much money?”

  “Two-hundred a month should do.”

  “I see.” Holly lowered her eyes.

  “How soon do you think you can get them to me?”

  “That depends.”

  “On what?” a surprised Mark asked.

  “On how soon you sign the divorce papers. I sent them in the mail and you should have them in a day or two.”