Chapter 18

“You squeaked by with Ianello on the alibi witness, and now this new evidence comes to light just in the nick of time to keep you from getting rained on about the allegations Fisher’s lawyer made in the newspaper. You are either one of the luckiest s.o.b.’s to walk the planet or somebody’s looking out for you,” Branch noted as he and McCoy walked down the hallway. “When do you resume trial?”

“Ianello reviewed our evidence early this morning and we present it to the jury in a couple of hours,” McCoy answered. “It should be short and sweet. We have Fisher dead to rights. The jury will most likely be sent to deliberate before noon.”

“Then we might have a verdict in time for the 6:00 news.”

“It’s possible,” McCoy agreed as they entered Branch’s office. “They don’t have much to think about. I look for a quick decision.”

“Good. I want to schedule a press conference as soon as we have the verdict,” Branch decided, taking a seat behind his desk.

McCoy sat on the sofa and stretched his legs out in front of him. “To rebut the article in yesterday’s paper?”

“Partly,” he nodded. “I also want to let the public know that we’re doing our part to ensure the safety of their children by sending a message to any future Eric Fishers out there. I want to announce that we’re going to seek the death penalty in this case.”

“You won’t get an argument from me. For what he did to those girls, death is almost too good for Fisher. But I’m not so sure a press conference is a good idea right now.”

“Unlike you, I’m an elected official who needs to stay in touch with constituents. Press conferences are an important part of doing so,” Branch maintained. “And what better time? We’ve just discovered evidence that’s going to prevent a dangerous criminal from harming anyone else and bring closure to several families’ anguish. I happen to think that’s pretty important information to pass along.”

“Fine. But you have to stick to the facts of this case only. The announcement can’t include any mention of the photos we found other than the one of the Braden girl,” McCoy contended.

“The discovery of those photos is central to proving that we’re doing our jobs, a message I would certainly like to convey. The public has a right to know.”

Sitting forward, McCoy said, “You’re talking politics. I’m trying to keep a slam-dunk from being ruled a foul. Fisher’s attorney has already approached me on this matter. I assured her that there will be no mention of anything found in the storage unit except the picture of the Braden girl.”

“I don’t like a defense attorney dictating what I can and can’t do,” Branch argued. “Ms. Morgan was the one who set the rules of the game. She wanted to try the case in the press. I’m only obliging. You shouldn’t have given her any assurances.”

“I didn’t have a choice. Even after the verdict is read, Fisher’s trial isn’t over. We still have the penalty phase to complete. I don’t want to give the defense any serious grounds for appeal, and letting the public know about the photos of the other girls before Fisher is sentenced will do just that.”

“Well I don’t want to see the same kind of tug-o-war over Fisher that they had over the Washington area sniper. I want us to be the ones to put the needle in his arm. If the public knows there are other victims, it’s more likely he’ll be sentenced to death for killing the Braden girl rather than life in prison.”

“I think we can achieve the same results without mentioning the other victims in the press. Once this jury sees the photo they’ll know what Fisher has done, and they’ll realize that they were a day away from acquitting him. I think they’re going to be angry enough to make sure he gets what he deserves. But the commotion that a statement about further evidence of additional victims would cause could be enough to win a change of venue for Fisher should there be an appeal. How well do you think it will set with the people of this county to have some jury in another decide his fate?”

Crossing his arms over his broad chest, Branch leaned back in his chair and contemplated. “You have a point. I’ll hold off mentioning anything about further evidence for the time being. But you’d better bring me back a death sentence, Jack.”

***Handing the verdict slip back to the bailiff, Ianello requested, “Will the defendant please rise?”

Fisher, along with Morgan, stood up and looked anxiously toward the jury.

“In the matter of People versus Eric Fisher on the charge of murder in the first degree, how do you find?” the judge asked.

Reading from the paper, the foreman stated, “We find the defendant, Eric Fisher, guilty as charged.”

Morgan swallowed hard as Fisher grabbed her arm for support.

Ianello turned to address the jury. “Thank you for your diligence in this matter. Sentencing hearing for this case will begin two weeks from today.” Picking up his gavel, he brought it down with a resounding thud and added, “We are adjourned.”

As Southerlyn gathered her notepad and paperwork, McCoy picked up his briefcase and stepped from behind the table to wait for her. Glancing at the defense’s table, he saw Fisher holding tightly onto Morgan’s arm as they spoke quietly. It was obvious to him that Morgan was trying to reassure her client and something about that brought his anger, simmering just below the surface, boiling to the top.

Leaning toward them and speaking so that only Morgan and Fisher could hear, he said casually, “Just so you aren’t surprised, I thought I’d let you know that we intend to seek the death penalty in this case.”

Morgan’s head snapped around toward him, a look of shock on her face. “What?!”

With a shrug, he suggested, “Surely you had considered that possibility.”

“You don’t have the authority to make that decision!” Morgan exclaimed, while behind her, Fisher sat down heavily and gaped at McCoy wide-eyed.

“I didn’t make the decision. It was made by Arthur Branch, the District Attorney of New York County, who does have the authority,” McCoy explained pointedly. “He will be holding a press conference shortly in order to announce his intentions to the general public.”

“You can’t do this!” Morgan declared, staring at him in growing horror.

“We can and we will,” McCoy assured her as Southerlyn joined him.

As the guard moved forward to take his arm and lead him from the room, Fisher turned to give Morgan a pleading look. When the door had closed behind him, she sat down and leaned her elbows on the table, holding her head in her hands. She didn’t even bother to look up as Southerlyn and McCoy made their way past her.

McCoy did nothing more than shake his head as they walked toward the back of the courtroom. Instead of feeling the least bit of sympathy for Morgan, he felt a fresh rush of anger that she could be so distraught over a person who had just been convicted of the rape and murder of a young girl. As far as he was concerned, both defendant and attorney had received exactly what they deserved.

He followed Southerlyn out of the courtroom without a backward glance.

***Southerlyn and McCoy stood at the top of the courthouse steps sipping coffee, watching various newspaper and television crews assemble and set up recording equipment in preparation for the press conference.

“The jury didn’t even deliberate for an hour. That must be some kind of record for a capital case,” Southerlyn noted.

“They were angry at having nearly been fooled by Fisher. And Calea made it easy for them. She knew she was beat. She’ll save the heroics for the penalty phase.”

“Judging by her reaction, I don’t think she saw your little announcement coming. She was pretty upset. I almost felt sorry for her when we left the courtroom.”

“She made her choice. If you want to play in the big games, you have to be prepared for the higher stakes. She should’ve realized that the death penalty would be one possible outcome in the trial of a rapist and murderer,” he maintained. Studying her briefly, he asked, “What about you? Are you okay with this?”

“Do you mean with the press conference, or with seeking the death penalty for Fisher?”

Giving her a pointed look, he said, “You know what I mean.”

With a shrug, Southerlyn responded, “I’m certainly not as comfortable with the death penalty as I once was, but I do believe that there are those who deserve to pay with their lives for the crimes they’ve committed. Where children are involved, it’s hard not to feel a sense of outrage. I’m not going to lose any sleep over this one, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

McCoy nodded. “That’s what I was hoping to hear.”

“There’s Branch,” Southerlyn acknowledged. “Are we supposed to join him?”

“No, we’ll wait here. He didn’t ask for our presence. Maybe he doesn’t want to share the spotlight.”

As Branch moved into position and was quickly surrounded by members of the media, Southerlyn and McCoy moved a few steps closer in order to better hear.

“A short time ago,” Branch began, “a jury of his peers found Eric Fisher guilty of luring a fifteen year old high school student named Corinna Braden from her home and savagely raping her, strangling her to death, and finally disposing of her body in the Hudson River. Due to the brutal nature of the crime and his willful deceit in concealing it, this office feels that the maximum penalty allowed by law is warranted for his acts. Although current statute allows the District Attorney 120 days to make a decision as to whether or not to seek the death penalty in a particular case, in People versus Eric Fisher further deliberation is unnecessary. Out of consideration for the victim’s family and in the interest of justice, the District Attorney’s Office of New York County hereby gives notice of intent to seek the death penalty for Eric Fisher.

“The investigation by the police department into Mr. Fisher’s affairs has also resumed as of yesterday. The police and the District Attorney’s Office are of the opinion that he poses an even greater threat to society than previously believed.”

Beside Southerlyn, McCoy groaned and swore. “He told me he wouldn’t say anything about that!”

“My office and the rest of the officials for this city are committed to seeing that no other family has to suffer the loss of a child to a violent predator,” Branch continued. “Let Mr. Fisher’s fate serve as a warning to any other individual contemplating a crime against a child. We will not tolerate being held captive by fear for the safety of our children. We will continue handing down the maximum penalties allowed for such crimes until every parent and every child feels safe again, and our city and country are rid of these horrifying acts of violence.”

As a jumble of voices began vying for attention and bombarding him with questions, Southerlyn and McCoy turned away and began to skirt the gathering, heading for the parking lot. But before they had descended more than five steps, McCoy saw Morgan approaching from the area near where they had been standing.

She came to a stop on the step right above him, her eyes flashing. “You assured me there would be no mention of anything else found in the storage unit! You told me I didn’t need to get a restraining order!”

“I didn’t hear anything about further evidence being discovered,” McCoy noted innocently.

Moving closer, she replied, “‘The investigation by police has resumed’? ‘Mr. Fisher poses an even greater threat than previously believed’? He all but told them there was something else!”

“I think you’ve misinterpreted what was said,” he suggested.

Shaking her head slowly, Morgan’s eyes narrowed as she regarded him. “You would think by now I would’ve learned better than to trust you.” Motioning to the building behind them, she added, “You may as well stick around. I’m going back in to find Ianello to see if I can keep what was just said from reaching the jury.”

As she turned her back on them and began to climb the steps, McCoy sighed and muttered, “Thanks a lot, Arthur.”

***Ianello rubbed his eyes tiredly. “I understand your concern, Ms. Morgan, and I agree. The statements made by the District Attorney could be construed to mean that future action may be taken against your client. And I’m sure there will be plenty of speculation by the media as to just what would prompt such action. The only sure option I see to prevent the jury from being exposed to this information is to sequester them. But if I do so order, I can’t allow you two weeks to prepare for the sentencing hearing. I’m not going to keep these people locked up for that long.” Spreading his hands out, he offered, "I’ll give you a choice. You either get two weeks to prepare or you get a sequestered jury and we start the penalty phase on Tuesday. You pick.”

“Your Honor…,” McCoy began.

Ianello pointed a finger at him. “You don’t get a vote. We wouldn’t be sitting here right now if your boss had chosen his words more carefully.” He turned to Morgan and prompted, “Well?”

“That gives me four days, and only two of those business days, to prepare for sentencing in a capital case. It isn’t enough time,” she protested.

“Take it or leave it,” Ianello insisted. “I have three murder trials, two rapes, and a kidnapping waiting in the wings. I’ve already had to postpone once and this jury has had more than their fair share of surprises. I’m not going to drag this out any more than is absolutely necessary.”

After considering for a few moments, Morgan turned to glare at McCoy. “Since the issue has been forced, I don’t see that I really have a choice.” Addressing the judge, she agreed, “I’ll be ready to begin on Tuesday.”

***“I was beginning to think you weren’t going to show up this evening,” Carmichael commented as Morgan met her at the security gate. “I called your office but Melissa said she hadn’t heard from you all afternoon.”

“I got tied up in court,” Morgan responded, walking beside her toward the grassy area beyond the townhouses.

“I heard about Branch’s press conference and what led up to it. Looks like things aren’t going so well for your client.”

“Looks like.”

“So he wasn’t innocent after all,” Carmichael noted, cutting across the grass toward the center of the park where the trees stood.

“No, he wasn’t.”

Carmichael stopped walking and turned to face Morgan, scrutinizing her closely. “Are you okay?”

With a nod, Morgan answered, “Yes, I’m fine.” She looked off into the distance for a second, then back at Carmichael. Shaking her head slowly, she amended, “No, I’m not. Everything is such a mess, Abbie.”

“Is this your first death penalty case?”

“Yeah,” she replied quietly. “And from my side of the aisle, the statute really stinks.”

“So you’re opposed to anyone receiving the death penalty?”

“Today I am,” Morgan assured her.

“He raped and killed a fifteen year old girl, Calea, and then he lied about it, even to you.”

“That doesn’t mean he deserves to die,” Morgan argued with a hint of desperation in her voice. “Life in prison is punishment enough.”

“Did you ask Jack if he would consider life without parole?”

“No. My client wouldn’t let me,” Morgan replied, gritting her teeth in frustration. “Believe me, I tried to convince him to allow me to suggest a plea bargain as soon as I heard about the new evidence. I’ve played this game long enough to know that his chances with the jury aren’t good. We’ve been telling them all along that he’s innocent. Now that it’s turned out he isn’t, they’re going to be very unsympathetic. They’ll be more inclined to impose the maximum rather than cut him any slack. I just can’t seem to make him understand that. I was sure he would take my recommendation and agree to a plea in exchange for the death penalty being taken off the table, but he thinks he can talk his way into a lesser sentence. I also thought we’d have more time, even in the event that we were faced with the death penalty. I didn’t expect the announcement the minute the guilty verdict was handed down.”

“Are you going to put your client on the stand?”

Morgan shook her head again. “I don’t know. Most of the time he’s extremely charming and in control, but he doesn’t deal well with direct confrontation. I’m not sure what would happen on cross. The first thing you learn as a defense attorney is to never underestimate your opponent. Despite our problems elsewhere, I know how good Jack is in the courtroom. I don’t think he would have any trouble at all getting my client to come across as belligerent and unremorseful.”

“Then what are you going to do? He doesn’t stand a prayer if there isn’t at least some attempt to offer mitigating circumstances.”

“I know,” Morgan agreed. “I just have to try to find someone besides my client to offer it. He has an uncle and aunt in Iowa but they won’t even return my phone calls. He doesn’t have any other living relatives and since he’s moved around so much, no real friends. I’m left with trying to talk Ianello into allowing a psychiatrist to examine him and then offer a professional opinion.”

“Good luck with that,” Carmichael suggested wryly.

“I know it’s a long shot, but it’s all I’ve got,” Morgan shrugged dejectedly.

As they continued walking toward the trees, Carmichael decided a change of subject was in order. “When does your volunteer group meet on Saturday?”

“They’re meeting at 9:00 but I won’t be going. I only have four days to prepare for the sentencing hearing and it’s going to take every bit of that time.” Placing her water bottle on a branch of a tree, she suggested, “Why don’t you go in my place? They could use the help and you met everyone the last time you went.”

“I’ll think about it. I have to admit I enjoyed the work.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s all about the work. It couldn’t possibly have anything to do with a tall, dark corporate attorney who will just happen to be there, too.”

Carmichael gave her a bright smile. “You know me – anything for a good cause!”

Chapter 19