Chapter 12

Southerlyn and McCoy were in his office discussing the day’s schedule when they saw Briscoe and Green approaching the door.

“Counselors,” Briscoe acknowledged as they entered.

“I hope you have good news for me,” McCoy said from behind his desk.

Briscoe handed a large envelope to him. “It’s nothing you’re going to want to break out the good liquor for. After checking his computer, these are some stills we took from the websites Fisher frequents. Most of the sites originate in other countries and make vague claims about featuring young teenage girls. None come right out and say the girls are minors, but it’s alluded to with descriptions like ‘barely teens’. Whether or not they’re actually underage is hard to say and probably impossible to prove.”

As McCoy pulled a stack of photos out and began shuffling through them, he asked, “What about an e-mail or anything else linking him with the victim? That would help me a lot more.”

Green shook his head as Southerlyn moved to look over McCoy’s shoulder. “The lab couldn’t find anything on his computer tying him to the girl. He knew what he was doing. He had Internet access from his home computer but used a different account and other sites around town when contacting her.”

Tossing the photos onto his desk, McCoy sighed in frustration. “Without anything on his home computer, the defense is going to claim that Fisher isn’t the same man who sent the e-mails to the girl, and we’re going to have a difficult time proving otherwise.”

“What about the chat room where he first came into contact with the victim? Did he ever visit it from his home computer?” Southerlyn questioned.

“No, and he didn’t research the band that brought them together from home, either,” Green responded. “All we found were visits to porn sites supposedly featuring teenage girls.”

McCoy picked the photos up again. “Well, these will help with the grand jury at least.” He sat back in his chair and grew thoughtful. Turning to Southerlyn he noted, “We could add a count of possession of child pornography to the charges. With the photos as evidence, I’m sure we can get the grand jury to go for it.”

“But a lot of those girls look like they could be eighteen and, as Lennie said, the websites don’t come right out and say any are underage,” Southerlyn observed, indicating the photos. “With the anonymity of the Web, how are you going to prove that they were minors when they posed for the pictures?”

With a quick shrug, McCoy replied, “I don’t intend to try. That the website advertises these girls as young teens is enough. It helps prove that Fisher has an abnormal obsession with young girls. Once he’s indicted on the charge, and if we decide to proceed on it, it’s up to the defense to prove that no law was actually broken. We have the description on the website itself inferring otherwise. In the mean time, adding that charge to what we already have could keep a judge from allowing Fisher bail when he’s arraigned this afternoon. He would stay put until he agreed to a plea or came up for trial.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Briscoe affirmed. “What time do you want us to show up?”

McCoy shook his head. “I’m not putting you before the grand jury. Ed can handle this one.”

“Is there a particular reason why I’m not invited to the party?” Briscoe asked with annoyance.

“Do I really need to spell it out? Giving Calea the chance to bring up the animosity between you and her client would hurt us.”

“I can take care of myself,” Briscoe insisted.

“I’m not willing to risk it,” McCoy stated with finality.

After regarding him for a moment, Briscoe shrugged. “Fine. I’ll just sit in the back and keep my mouth shut. As long as Fisher gets what’s coming to him, I’m not picky about who helps pull the switch.”

***McCoy stood outside of the grand jury room with the detectives and Southerlyn on the pretense of discussing the case and thanking Green for his testimony. But he was strategically positioned in such a way that he could keep an eye on the large double doors they had exited moments before.

After only a couple of minutes, he saw Morgan emerge and glance around. Upon spotting him, she headed straight for him.

She came to a stop beside him and asked icily, “May I have a word with you?”

Nodding, he took a few steps away from the others and faced her. “Something I can do for you, Counselor?” he suggested brightly.

Ignoring his tone, she addressed him angrily. “Is this another of your win-at-all-costs tactics, Jack? First you send notice of the additional charge against my client to my office only hours before he’s arraigned, then you produce inflammatory photos for the grand jurists to consider that are totally unrelated to the case. What do you have planned next? Inciting a mob to lynch him on the steps of the criminal courts building?”

“It isn’t my fault that your client has a perversion,” McCoy replied, his eyes gleaming. “I can see why you fought so hard to keep us from examining his computer. What we found certainly doesn’t help your case.”

“You didn’t find anything connecting him to the victim. And what you did find will never fly where it counts. By the time we go to trial, I’ll have so many affidavits stating that the girls in those photos are of the age of consent that you’ll still be trying to get your foot out of your mouth when the ‘not guilty’ verdict is read.” Gesturing to the room behind her, she added, “This doesn’t mean anything.”

“So you’re already conceding your loss with the grand jury. Well, at least we agree on something,” he noted.

Morgan’s eyes were blazing. “Getting someone indicted and proving that the person committed the crime are two very different things. At trial you’ll never get away with the stunts you pulled here. You’re still fighting a losing battle.”

As she turned around and began walking away from him, he took a couple of steps in the same direction.

“There doesn’t have to be a trial. If your client is willing to take a plea, we can dispose of this now and ‘save the taxpayers their hard-earned money’,” he stated pointedly, reiterating the words she had spoken to him only days before.

Whirling around to face him, Morgan declared, “Over my dead body! See you in court.”

As she stalked off, McCoy rejoined the others.

“You’re trying to plead Fisher out?” Briscoe asked accusingly. “You just all but got your indictment. I thought you were going to go for the max.”

“A bird in hand, Detective,” McCoy pointed out. “Our case is weak. Getting the indictment will be the easy part. Convincing a trial jury is another story. I’d rather take Fisher off of the streets for a reasonable amount of time than see him completely acquitted of all charges. Now if you can bring me more evidence…”

“We’re working on it,” Briscoe assured him.

“Then nothing would please me more than to see Fisher sitting across a courtroom from me,” McCoy assured him.

“I might’ve gotten the wrong impression but I don’t think his lawyer was too happy with you,” Green observed.

McCoy glanced in the direction in which Morgan had disappeared, then shrugged. “I’m not here to win any popularity contests.”

“I thought the two of you were friends,” Southerlyn commented.

He regarded her for a moment before concluding, “Maybe not anymore.”

“Well, you know what they say: All’s fair in love and war,” Briscoe quipped. “Who’s up for lunch?”

***Dropping his briefcase onto his desk, McCoy loosened his tie and unbuttoned the collar of his shirt, then sank into his chair and let out a weary sigh. At the sound of a throat being cleared, he looked up to find Branch’s large frame blocking the doorway of his office.

“How’s the Ballard case coming?”

“Fine,” McCoy replied, sitting up slightly. “I just finished with Mrs. Costas so all of our witnesses are prepped. We start selecting a jury tomorrow. We’ll be ready for trial on Wednesday.”

“Good. How did it go with the grand jury this morning?”

McCoy nodded. “Fisher was indicted the way we wanted.”

“Even on the possession of child porn?”

“Yes, but I’m not going to present that at trial. I think Fisher’s attorney could successfully argue that the girls appearing on the websites are not minors and it would be difficult to prove otherwise. I’m going to present it simply as part of a pattern. He has an abnormal obsession with young girls, therefore he chooses to view sexually explicit pictures of young girls online. Even without claiming that they’re underage, it’ll still work for us. And it did help us with Fisher’s arraignment. The judge remanded him until trial.”

Branch sat down on the leather sofa across from McCoy and stretched his arms across the back. “You want to explain to me why you’re pursuing such a weak case instead of waiting until you have enough evidence to actually win a trial?”

“I have an obligation to prosecute those I feel are guilty. Eric Fisher falls into that category.”

“That’s beside the point. You usually make sure you have a reasonable shot at a conviction before you start talking about a trial. What’s the rush here?”

“If we had waited, he would’ve disappeared. In my opinion, this is one case where we couldn’t afford to wait,” McCoy insisted. “Believe me, I’d rather have more than circumstantial evidence to work with, but we take what we get. We have eight weeks before we go to trial. In that time, the detectives working the case may come up with more evidence. They’re still searching for the victim’s belongings.”

“I heard a rumor that there were more hard feelings than usual between Fisher and one of the arresting detectives.”

With a shrug, McCoy noted, “No complaint was filed.”

“Still, seeing the police, and by extension this office, take a hit in the press right now isn’t high on my list of achievements. Is Fisher’s lawyer going to throw this in our faces before the trial starts to garner sympathy for her client or to get her name in the papers?”

He shook his head. “She isn’t that kind of lawyer. She isn’t in it for the publicity.”

“That’s what they all say,” Branch remarked. “But you stick a microphone in their faces and they suddenly change their tune.”

“I know this attorney. She doesn’t try cases in the press. Believe me, there won’t be any statements or interviews splashed across the daily news,” he assured him.

Branch stood up. “Since I don’t know her, I’ll have to take your word for that. I just hope you’re right. I don’t mind taking a beating in the press for the right reasons, but malicious prosecution isn’t one of those.” Strolling to the door, he added, “See you tomorrow, Jack.”

“Good night,” McCoy replied, sitting back in his chair. After a few seconds, he swiveled around to face the window. Staring out at the fading light, he thought about how much he didn’t want to go home.

Chapter 13