Second Chair, A Stan Turner Mystery, Vol.4

  *****

  "You think Richard may not have been the father?" I asked jolted by her statement.

  “Like I said, I don’t know where that came from. He obviously must be," Sarah said softly. "I want you to know, I don't usually talk like that but Joyce really got me upset when she started shaking me and carrying on the way she did."

  "I'm so sorry Sarah. Is there anything I can do?"

  "No, I just wanted to tell you that I was leaving home. I'm going to stay with Greg for a while."

  "Do you think that's a good idea?"

  "I can't stay in the same house with Joyce. I don't have any choice."

  "Okay, but stay in touch. I've got to know where you are at all times. Oh, by the way, next week we want you to meet with a psychiatrist, Dr. Gerhardt."

  "Why?"

  "We need him as an expert witness and he may be able to help you get over the trauma of the past few weeks. I'll call you when we have a definite time set up."

  "All right."

  "Oh, and don't forget you have to appear in Court for a status conference on April 17."

  "Right, I'll be there."

  I wasn't pleased with the phone call from Sarah. All I needed now was my client floating around between her parents and boyfriend. I was responsible for her appearance in court every two weeks until the trial and I didn't want to have to spend a lot of time trying to track her down. I started to pick up the telephone to call and report to my corporate client about the lease when the telephone rang again. It was Rebekah.

  "Stan, something terrible has happened, you've got to come home right now!"

  "What is it?"

  "It's Reggi. He's in his room crying. Some kids were very ugly to him over you defending Sarah Winters."

  "You're kidding? What happened?"

  "I don't know exactly, but that's not all."

  "What else?"

  "When Reggie got home, there was a letter. You've got to come home now. He’s so upset!"

  "Okay, I’m leaving right now."

  I got up, grabbed my coat and left. I couldn't believe someone would stoop so low as to threaten my son. It was one thing to attack me, I was a soldier on the front lines, but my family was off limits. I'd knock the crap out of the son of a bitch if I could only find out who it was. When I got home, Beauty met me at the door as usual with her tail wagging excitedly.

  "Hi, Beauty," I said and then bent down and gave her a hug. "Sorry girl, but I don't have time to play right now."

  The mood in Reggie's room was somber. He was lying on his bed staring at the wall. His eyes were red and swollen from crying. Rebekah was sitting on the chair at his desk holding a newspaper. I rushed over to him.

  "Reggie, are you all right?"

  He nodded without smiling. "Yes, I'm okay, I guess.”

  "So, what happened to you?"

  "Everybody hates me at school now because I’m your son.”

  “What? That’s ridiculous.”

  “All I heard about today was how you were defending a witch. Is that true?"

  "A witch, where did they get that nonsense?"

  "You obviously don't read the tabloids," Rebekah said."

  "Tabloids? What are you talking about?"

  "Your client is the feature story," Rebekah said as she handed Stan the latest issue of the National Examiner. I took it and looked incredulously at the headline: SARAH WINTERS, A TEXAS WITCH? Investigators Uncover Shocking Evidence of Accused Killer’s superhuman abilities, sordid childhood and ties to the evil underworld.”

  "Oh, Jesus," he said "Who told them this?"

  "Apparently they talked to her stepmother and she told them about Sarah going into a fiery inferno and saving her father's life."

  "Oh God! I can’t believe this.”

  “And, the underworld ties. That’s her association with Ricky which is probably a good point.”

  “And her ‘sordid past’”

  “A life on the run with a drunken, worthless father.”

  “Hardly her fault,” I said.

  Rebekah took the paper and said, "Well, they say she chose that life. She could have stayed with her grandmother and had a quasi-normal life.”

       I shook my head. "That’s ridiculous. She was only eight years old for godsakes. How a reporter could write something so irresponsible is beyond me. Now we're going to have every crackpot in the country down here wanting to burn Sarah at the stake."

  "Do you think she's a witch?" Reggie asked.

  "No, this is garbage. Sarah is just an ordinary girl who's had a very tough life."

   "There's a big article in the Dallas Morning News today about Sarah Winters too," Rebekah said. "They talk all about you and how you’re going to get her off by pleading temporary insanity."

  "Who told them that pack of lies? I don't have any idea what my defense is going to be. Sarah hasn't even seen a shrink yet."

  "I wish you hadn’t taken this case." Rebekah said. "I don’t like you defending a murderer?"

  "I don't think she did it, but if she did do it she's entitled to the best defense possible."

  She took a deep breath, her big brown eyes full of worry. "Oh, I almost forgot. Take a look at this letter.”

  I walked over to the desk and read the latest ominous message from the coward, Doomsayer.

   

  "THE SONS AND DAUGHTERS SHALL WEEP WHEN THE DEVIL'S DEFENDERS ARE SLAIN IN THE NAME OF GOD AND RIGHTEOUSNESS. TAKE HEED OF THIS WARNING FOR TIME IS FLEETING. DOOMSAYER."

   

  I stared at the message and then shook my head, "Damn it! I can't believe this asshole is doing this again. He must be some kind of wacko."

  "What do you mean, again?" Rebekah said, looking at me expectantly.

  "I didn't want to alarm you but this isn't the first message from this Doomsayer lunatic."

  "You're kidding?”

  "No, I got a couple messages like this at the office. I reported them to the police."

  "Daddy, is he going to hurt us?" Reggie asked.

  "No, nobody's going to hurt us. They're just trying to scare me so I'll withdraw from the case."

  "Maybe you should," Rebekah said.

  "No way, I'm not letting some lowlife tell me what to do."

  "Who do you think it is?" Rebekah asked.

  "Probably some religious fanatic who thinks he's omniscient and doesn't need to waste time with a judge and jury."

  "What would happen if you withdrew?" Rebekah asked.

  "Sarah would either hire a new attorney or the Court would appoint her one."

  "You need to call the police and tell them about this, Stan," Rebekah said.

  "I know, I will. Maybe this one will have a print on it or some other clue as to who’s responsible for it."

  "I hope so," Rebekah said. "I'm really worried about the kids getting hurt."

  "I know. I’m worried too, but everything's going to be all right. I won’t let anyone hurt you or the kids."

  The following Monday I was anxious to get to work since I knew Jodie would be back. When the elevator door opened, I was delighted to see the office lit up like a twenty-four-hour supermarket. Walking briskly into the waiting room the sweet aroma of fresh coffee uplifted me. I took a deep breath and proceeded into the secretarial area. Jodie was busily working at her desk.

  "Hi, Jodie."

  "Oh, good morning, Stan."

  "So, how do you feel?"

  "I've felt better, but I'll live."

  "How was it?"

  "Not so bad, really."

  "I bet you're glad to be done with it?"

  "More so than you can imagine."

  "Did anyone go with you?"

  "My mom was there."

  "That's good. Well, I'm glad it's over for you."

  "Thanks. So did anything interesting happen while I was gone?"

  I told her about the National Examiner story and the messages from Doomsayer.

  "Oh, Jesus. Did you call the police?"

  "Yes,
they've sent the messages to the FBI for analysis."

  "Good, maybe they'll catch the bastard."

  "I hope so."

  "So what's on tap for this week?" Jodie asked.

  "Snake has scheduled a session between Sarah and Dr. Gerhardt. He's going to evaluate her mental condition and be one of our expert witnesses. Dr. Gerhardt is an expert in hypnosis so he might take her back to the night of the killing and see if he can find out exactly what happened."

  "Does that really work?"

  "Come in my office and I'll show you the report I just received on it."

  "Okay," Jodie said and then got up and followed me into my office. I sat at my desk and Jodie sat in a side chair directly in front of me. It was so good to have her back.

  "Well, I've been researching that question and apparently hypnosis has proven to be very effective at restoring memory," I said and then picked up a report and flipped through it. "For instance, in 1976 in Chowchilla, California 26 children were kidnaped. Shortly after the incident the bus driver was put under hypnosis and was able to remember the license number of the kidnapers’ car."

  "Wow."

  "Then in 1978 a fifteen-year-old girl was raped, had her arms cut off, and was left wandering along a California highway. Under hypnosis she supplied information that led to the arrest and conviction of her assailant."

  "He cut off her arms? My God!"

  "You remember the Ted Bundy case, don't you?"

  "It kind of rings a bell."

  "In 1979 two students were killed at Florida State University. Under hypnosis a witness in that case provided police with information that led to Ted Bundy's conviction. There's quite a few more examples in here too."

  "Well, good. I hope it works."

  Jodie looked at her watch and then said, "You've got a 9:30 docket call, you better get a move on."

  "Oh crap, I almost forgot, it's so good to have you back."

  "I am glad to be back, believe me."

  I packed up the briefcase and left the office. Jodie smiled as I was leaving. I noticed a tear rolling down her cheek as I returned the smile. She quickly wiped it away with the back of her hand and went back to work.

  On the way back to the office I stopped by Tom Slater's office. I figured I could tell him about some new developments in his case and then ease into Bobby Wiggins' death. His secretary said he was on the phone so I waited. After a minute he walked in the reception area smiling.

  "I didn't know you made house calls?"

  "Your office is right on the way back from the courthouse so I thought I'd save you a trip."

  "Okay, so what's up."

  "I got the interrogatory responses back. It doesn't look like they have much hard evidence to back up their allegations."

  "That's because it's all bullshit."

  "Maybe so. Anyway, I'm going to set up a deposition just to be sure. Then maybe I'll file a motion for summary judgment."

  "Good, I'm sick of this harassment."

  "Did Wiggins ever finish your audit?" I asked. "We're going to need it if this thing goes to trial."

  "He said it was about finished. I guess I should call his partner and find out."

  "Did he ever mention anything to you about a health problem?"

  "No, not that I recall."

  "Was he ever sick to your knowledge?"

  "No, he always seemed pretty healthy."

  "So how did the audit go? Any problems?"

  Slater hesitated and then replied, "No, not really."

  "What do you mean, not really?"

  "Oh, you know, just nit-picky stuff. Nothing of any consequence."

  I gave Slater a hard look trying to ascertain if he was hiding something from me.

  "I need to know if there are any problems, Tom. If there are, we've got to figure out how to deal with them."

  "I know. There weren't any problems."

  "Good," I said and then asked him about the night of the murder. Like everyone else he saw nothing so I thanked him and went home.

  The next day Sarah came by my office to discuss her case and her meeting with Dr. Gerhardt.

  “Have you ever met Dr. Gerhardt?” she asked.

  “No, tell me about him?”

  “He’s a tall, elderly man, in his late 60's, I think. He walks very slowly as if every step was painful for him.”

   

  “Really. I wonder what’s wrong with him.”

  “I don’t know, maybe arthritis or something. . . . Anyway, he’s so nice. I really felt like he cared about me . . . wanted to help, you know?”

  “Sure. That’s good. . . . So, did he make you lie down on the sofa like in the movies?”

  “Yes, and then he asked me if I felt like talking. He was so polite.”

  “Well hypnosis has to be consensual, I understand. You’ve got to want to do it for it to work.”

  “Right, so I told him sure, lets talk. So we talked about school, family, career ambitions, you know . . . all that kind of stuff. He asked about my relationship with Joyce and Nate.

  “Right.”

  “Oh, and I told him about Joyce being a cheerleader in high school and how she worships football players. How she’s certain he’ll go to the NFL and become a millionaire.”

  “She was a cheerleader? I didn’t know that.”

  “Then he got to the night of the killing.