Chapter 14

“Detective Briscoe, Ms. Carmichael’s questions to you centered mainly on the difficulty you and Detective Green had in identifying Mitchell Grayson and then on finding his wife. I would like to ask you about Sara Grayson’s attitude when you did find her. Would you please tell us what she said when you identified yourselves and first spoke with her?”

“She said she had been expecting us.”

“Expecting you for what reason?”

“She indicated that she had been expecting us to find her and assumed that our being there had something to do with her husband.”

“So you approached her, told her Mitchell Grayson was dead and that you wanted to question her about his death, and she said she had been expecting you. Is that correct?”

“No,” Briscoe answered. “At the time, we hadn’t positively identified the victim we found at the Grayson’s former residence. Our main objective was to ascertain whether or not the body actually was that of Mitchell Grayson. After Mrs. Grayson said she had been expecting us and knew we were there about her husband, we began to question her about him.”

“What did you ask her?”

“We started by simply asking if she knew where her husband was.”

“How did she answer?”

“She said she assumed that since we were there talking with her, we already knew where he was. And when we asked her why she would assume that, she wanted to know if we had or hadn’t found her husband’s body.”

“Then Mrs. Grayson, in effect, identified your victim by telling you that her husband was dead, within the first few minutes of meeting her?” Morgan prompted.

“Yes.”

“What did you say then?”

“We asked if she knew what had happened to him.”

“How did she answer?”

“She said, ‘I thought you knew. I killed him.’ ”

“So not only did she confess, she assumed you already knew she was the one who had killed him.”

“Yes.”

“Detective, we’ve already watched the video tape of the conversation you, your partner, and Lieutenant Van Buren had with Mrs. Grayson once you reached the police station. What conclusion did you come to after that conversation?”

Briscoe shifted slightly in his chair and glanced at Carmichael. He knew where Morgan’s questions were heading and he knew Carmichael wasn’t going to like his answers, especially considering he was a prosecution witness. “I was convinced that Mrs. Grayson had murdered her husband without provocation.”

“Do you still feel that way?”

Carmichael rose. “Objection: speculation. The People called Detective Briscoe to testify within his area of expertise, that of investigating the death of a homicide victim and tracking down the party responsible. His personal opinion as to Mrs. Grayson’s motive is irrelevant.”

“Detective Briscoe is a police officer with almost twenty-seven years on the force. This isn’t the first homicide he has investigated where a husband was killed by his wife. Due to his experience, he’s certainly qualified to tell us what opinion he formed as a result of his investigation,” Morgan stated.

Judge Yee nodded. “Objection overruled. You may answer the question.”

“No, I don’t think she acted without cause,” Briscoe answered.

“What made you change your mind?” Morgan asked.

“Objection,” Carmichael said again. “May we approach, Your Honor?”

The judge waved her and Morgan forward, then covered the microphone in front of her with her hand.

Carmichael spoke quietly. “Your Honor, the defense is attempting to elicit testimony that is only hearsay. It has no basis in fact. Ms. Morgan wants the witness to testify about an unproven allegation by a friend of Mrs. Grayson, and a report by a Detective Russell who investigated a religious group the Graysons belonged to. That investigation didn’t involve the Graysons directly and no charges were ever filed as a result of it. In effect, the defense is asking Detective Briscoe for his opinion on someone else’s opinion.”

“The evidence I have is more than hearsay,” Morgan argued. “I intend to call Detective Russell to tell the court about his investigation and I will call a member of the religious group to state some of their beliefs. Detective Briscoe formed his opinion after further investigation. As The People have already stipulated, that is precisely what they called him forward to testify about. And Your Honor has already ruled that his opinion is important.”

“His opinion on evidence that hasn’t been properly introduced is not relevant,” the judge noted. “After it is presented, and if it is allowed, you may then call the detective as a defense witness and ask what conclusion he drew. But for now, his opinion on evidence that has not even been introduced is disallowed.”

Morgan and Carmichael turned away and Judge Yee announced to the court, “Objection sustained.”

“I have no further questions at this time,” Morgan said. “I would, however, like to reserve the right to recall this witness at a later time.”

As Briscoe rose and returned to the gallery, Judge Yee checked the clock on the back wall of the courtroom. “Due to the hour, court will adjourn for the day. We will resume Monday morning at 9:00.”

Morgan spoke briefly with her client, then quickly gathered her belongings as Grayson was led away. She turned and searched the mostly departing observers until she spotted three familiar faces.

“Come on,” she urged Carmichael. “They’re here.” Without waiting, she started for the back of the courtroom.

The three people met her halfway to the door. Morgan reached a small woman with outstretched arms first and embraced her warmly. “It is so good to see you, Grace.”

“Oh, you too, Honey,” the woman said, beaming.

Morgan turned and hugged the man standing beside her. “How are you, Drew?”

He smiled and squeezed her tightly. “I’m fine, Peaches. How are you?”

“I’m unbelievably happy now that you two are here,” she answered. “Did you have any trouble finding them, Tony?”

Alvarez shook his head. “Not at all. We spotted each other right away. And the drive from the airport wasn’t bad today, either, so we made good time getting here.”

“Grace, there is someone I really want you to meet,” Morgan told her as Carmichael approached the group. “This is a very good friend of mine, Abbie Carmichael.”

Shaking the woman’s hand, Carmichael said, “It’s nice to finally meet you. Calea has been so excited about your visit, I almost suggested she take a tranquilizer at lunchtime. Welcome to New York.”

“Thank you. This is my first visit, so I’m looking forward to seeing the sights.”

Carmichael shook hands with Compton. “It’s good to see you again, Drew. I’m glad you came back to visit under more pleasant circumstances.”

“So am I,” he agreed. “We arrived in time to hear a little of the trial. Nice work.”

“Thanks. I hope you’ll remember that if I ever show up on your doorstep looking for a job.”

“Just give the word,” Compton promised.

With a smile, Carmichael said, “Speaking of work, I should be going. There are some things I have to do at the office before I can call it a day. It was good to meet you, Grace. I hope you both enjoy your stay.”

“I have to be going, too,” Alvarez said quickly. “I’ll walk out with you, Abbie.” Giving the Comptons and Morgan a bright smile, he added, “It was nice to meet the two of you. I’ll see you at the office in the morning, Calea.”

“I’ll be in around 8:00, Tony. And I’ll see you on Monday, Abbie.” When they had departed, Morgan turned to the Comptons. “I know you’ve had a busy afternoon, so I can take you to the hotel now, if you like. Or if you don’t mind waiting, Jack should be finished in Part 44 at any time.”

Grace Compton linked arms with Morgan as they began to walk slowly toward the door. “I have been waiting for months to meet Jack McCoy and I wouldn’t miss the opportunity for all the tea in China. The hotel can wait.”

Morgan turned to her but before she could respond, the door in front of them opened and McCoy walked in.

He smiled as he approached them. “Looks like my timing is perfect.” Holding his hand out to Compton he added, “If there’s one thing you can count on, it’s that the majority of judges like to head for the hills before 5:00 on Fridays. How’s it going, Drew?”

Compton gripped his hand. “Fine, Jack. How is life treating you?”

“I can’t complain.”

“I’d like to introduce you to my wife,” Compton said, putting his arm around her. “This is Grace.”

McCoy took her hand in his. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Grace.”

She looked up into his dark brown eyes. “So you’re Jack McCoy. I’ve heard quite a lot about you.”

Glancing quickly at Morgan, he said, “I hope you won’t hold that against me.”

“Not at all,” she answered. “I’ve really been looking forward to getting to know you.”

Looking at Morgan again, he suggested, “Well then, why don’t we get started right away? I know a little place near your hotel where we can all talk and have something to drink.”

Morgan exchanged a look with Compton. “Well…”

Noting the look, McCoy quickly added, “If you’ve already made other plans, that’s okay. We have tomorrow to get better acquainted.”

As Compton regarded Morgan, his wife took a step toward McCoy. “Just ignore those two, Jack. They have some sort of private celebration planned. How would you like to have a drink with a fun-loving, mature woman with a great sense of humor?”

“Grace Elizabeth!” Compton exclaimed, a look of feigned shock on his face.

“Well why shouldn’t I make plans for myself instead of waiting for the two of you to have your little affair? I didn’t come to New York to sit alone in a hotel room.”

“At least you know who he’s having the affair with,” Morgan commented with an amused smile.

McCoy studied Morgan intently, trying to figure out what he had walked into. She met his look openly, as if she were waiting for his reaction.

Whatever was going on, he decided he was game. Turning his attention back to the other woman he said, “I would love to have a drink with you. Why don’t I come by and pick you up after you get settled into your room? Let’s say about 6:00.”

“It’s a date,” she nodded.

***Compton held out his glass and touched it lightly to Morgan’s. “Seventeen years and counting. Three more before he’ll even be eligible for parole.”

“Let’s hope the parole board has sense enough to keep him where he is,” Morgan noted.

“The threats he made to you after the trial certainly aren’t going to work in his favor. I kept every one of his notes in a file I’m taking with me to his parole hearing, if he ever gets one. Any more letters?”

“Not since I moved to New York. I sent you the last one I received. I don’t think there’s any way he could track me down, especially since I’m no longer using my married name.” She took a sip of tea and then set the glass down. “I’m glad you could be here today. It hasn’t been the same commemorating on my own. And the phone call last year didn’t cut it either.”

Compton nodded. “I’m glad things worked out, too. Every year, I’ve thought about getting together but wasn’t sure it was a good idea given the way you left. Next year you have to come to Chicago, though. You owe us a visit.”

“I know,” Morgan agreed. “But it isn’t easy to get away. If I take more than a couple of days, my practice starts to fall apart. It’s hard to keep my clients happy sometimes.”

“Have you thought about taking on a partner? It sounds like you have plenty of business for another person. It would free you up to do some traveling or just take some personal time.”

Morgan’s eyebrows arched. “I believe I’ll pass on adding another name to the door, thank you very much. Considering my last experience with partners, I’m surprised you would even suggest such a thing.”

“I guess I can understand your reluctance,” Compton admitted wryly. “But it’s something you will have to consider sooner or later, whether you like it or not. On the way from the airport, Tony said your other assistant has graduated and passed the bar exam. He seems to think she’s making plans to stay with you indefinitely. I’m sure she isn’t going to be content to be an associate forever.”

Morgan sighed. “I haven’t decided what to do about Ann. When she first started with me, she made it clear her goal was to become part of a Wall Street firm and there’s no denying that she has the skill to do so. But some of her friends are working for those kinds of firms now, and they’ve been telling her about their exciting careers as gophers and filing clerks. She’s compared what they’re doing to all the experience she’s already gotten with me, and her goals have changed.”

“It sounds like you like her, and she’s worked with you for a quite a while. Surely you know something about her ethics by now.”

“It isn’t that I don’t trust her,” she acknowledged. “I just don’t think she needs to work in my shadow. With a little more experience she’s going to be an incredible attorney. If she practices on her own for a while and begins to make a name for herself, I think she’ll have the opportunity to become a partner in one of the more prestigious firms in town. Or she could build a very successful practice of her own. She has a lot of options.”

“And if she opts to stay with you?”

Morgan shrugged. “I don’t want a partner. I’ll have to steer her in another direction. I wouldn’t have any objections to helping set her up in an office of her own, even in the same building, and advising her when needed, but I’m happy practicing on my own. I don’t need the kind of headaches that such a close relationship brings, again.”

Compton picked up his drink from the bar and asked casually, “And does that also apply to your personal life?”

Checking her watch, Morgan asked, “I wonder what’s keeping Jack and Grace.”

***“You and Drew have been at this about the same length of time but he’s been an Executive A.D.A. a few more years than you. Sometimes I wish he hadn’t taken the position. His stress level has increased considerably since doing so. If I didn’t know for a fact that it would kill him to switch sides, I’d encourage him to get out of the D.A.’s office and into private practice. His heart wouldn’t be in it, though.”

McCoy swirled the ice in his club soda and nodded his agreement. “Once you’ve had a taste of being a prosecutor, it’s difficult to think of doing anything else. Nothing can compare to the feeling you get from knowing you played a part in putting the bad guys where they can’t do anymore harm.”

Grace Compton shook her head. “How many times have I heard the same sentiments from Drew? Calea was right; you two are a couple of peas in a pod.”

He leaned forward on the small table and regarded her intently. “And did she have anything else to say about me?”

“Oh, quite a bit. But the last time we really had a chance to visit was when she was in the middle of defending Peter Fairchild and stayed overnight with us in Chicago. She wasn’t in the best frame of mind at the time, particularly towards you.”

As she took the last swallow of her vodka and tonic, McCoy asked, “Can I buy you another?”

She checked the neon-framed clock above the bar. “Aren’t we supposed to meet Drew and Calea back at the hotel in a few minutes for dinner?”

McCoy gave her a smile. “How would you like to have dinner alone with a mature, fun-loving attorney instead?”

“Are you suggesting we stand them up?” she asked in surprise.

He shrugged. “They’re the ones who left us to our own devices. They’ll figure it out sooner or later. I know a barbecue place around the corner that makes the best ribs this side of Chicago. What do you say?”

With a broad grin she answered, “I say, lead the way, Jack. Ribs are my favorite.”

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