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Melvin's lawyering up."

"How clear was it?"  I asked.  Thanks to the Supreme Court, the police

are allowed to ignore a suspects reference to an attorney if it's

ambiguous.

"Couldn't get any fucking clearer: "I want a lawyer."  "

The four magic words.  We couldn't touch him.  If we were going to get

anything else out of him, it would have to be through his

court-appointed lawyer.

"It's all right," I said.  "We don't need it.  The statements he made

before he invoked will come in, and they look bad, especially with the

threats.  Assuming the crime lab finds the vies blood on the hammer,

he's done."

"I got to say, given our fuckup earlier, it felt good to nail the

bastard.  Johnson's down there now booking him at MCDC, and I'm writing

up the reports."  Jackson would spend the night in the Multnomah County

Detention Center so he could be arraigned tomorrow morning.  "We're

both running on empty right now and have a back load of comp time. Call

us tomorrow if you need follow-up, but I don't think either of us will

be at the precinct.  My wife's gonna leave me if I don't eat a meal

with her and the girls soon."

"She'd rather have you at the house than the OT?  Must be true love,

Walker."  And it was, too.  Take a look around a detective squad, and

the cubicles are filled with comically enhanced mug shots, doctored rap

sheets, and the occasional pinup.  Walker's is filled with photographs

of his wife, Sandy, and their houseful of daughters.  I'd never met

them, but I'd followed their lives through pictures from the wedding

day to their Six Flags vacation last August.

"Still don't know how I got so lucky."  I was touched that Walker would

express that kind of sentiment to me.  Then came the follow-up.  "From

what I hear, I could've wound up with a prick like Roger

Kirkpatrick."

"Just for that, Walker, I'm starting a list of tomorrow's follow-up

work.  Some for you for saying that, and some for Johnson for telling

you about it."

We both got a laugh out of it.  "See?"  he said.  "I wouldn't have said

it if I didn't think you could handle it."

"Sure you would."  These guys think I don't know what they put some of

my coworkers through.  "Now get some sleep and enjoy your day off.

We've got more than enough for arraignment tomorrow.  Just tell the

crime lab to call Chuck or Mike with the lab results, OK?"

"Done.  You're going Agg Murder, right?"

With what we had, proving Jackson killed Clarissa wouldn't be hard. But

to get an aggravated murder conviction, I'd need to prove that the

murder occurred under one or more special circumstances.

I knew what Walker was really asking, but answered the question

narrowly to avoid the discussion.  "I'll plead it tomorrow as an agg,

probably based on the vic's status as a judge."

Walker wasn't interested in legal theories.  He knew you could file

aggravated murder charges without seeking the ultimate sanction.  "But

will your office go for the death penalty?"

"I'm sure that will be discussed.  Whatever happens, it won't be my

decision."

It was the same cop-out I used whenever I wondered what would happen if

I ever got a death penalty case, and I tried to find comfort in it as I

hung up the phone.  As opinionated as I am, this issue is one of the

few that leaves me scurrying up the nearest fence.

When I finally fell back asleep, it was only because I convinced myself

that Jackson's sad circumstances and lack of a prior criminal record

would limit the stakes of the case to a life sentence.

Seven.

It was there in the pile of custodies the next morning.  My first Major

Crimes Unit call-out had been cleared and was ready for issuing.  Unit

rules be damned; I grabbed the file off Alice Gerstein's desk so I

could prep the complaint against Melvin Jackson before turning to my

screening cases.

For now, I kept the complaint simple, one count of aggravated murder

and one alternative count of plain old garden-variety murder.  Pleading

the case as an agg murder requires a special circumstance.  If Jackson

killed Clarissa during the commission of either a kidnapping or rape,

that would qualify.  But there were problems with both theories.  We

had the condom and the ME's opinion that Clarissa's clothes were put

back on her after she was killed, but we didn't have the traditional

indications of rape.  Clarissa's shoe and the paint provided

circumstantial indications that Jackson pulled Clarissa into the van

before he killed her, but if he killed her during the struggle and then

put her in the van, it wasn't a kidnapping.

I avoided both possibilities and instead used Clarissa's employment as

an administrative law judge as the special circumstance.  As long as

the jury believed that Melvin killed Clarissa because of her official

judicial duties, that was enough.

I passed Frist in the hallway as I was walking to the printer to pick

up the complaint.

"We need to talk about that cluster fuck of a press conference last

night on the Easterbrook case.  The guy was nice enough to confine his

bitching to the bureau, but Griffith's still gonna want a briefing."

"I think we're OK from that end.  The husband's attorneys turned over

some information last night, and the police arrested Melvin Jackson a

few hours ago."  I left out the part about one of the attorneys being

my ex-husband.  Although people in the office knew I was divorced, only

a handful of them knew who the ex was.  One of the advantages of

keeping your own name.  "When I left MCT last night, the husband's

people were playing nice.  I think the press conference was a wake-up

call."

"Looks like it worked.  Jackson's the disgruntled tenant?"

I nodded.

"What did they find on him?"

I told him about Dunn Simon's list of nonunion labor at the office park

and the evidence the police found when they executed the search

warrant.  "I was just doing the complaint.  Do you want to see the file

before arraignment?"

"You know you should have called me, Kincaid."

"I thought you told me to run with it until we got to proceedings."

He looked at me skeptically.

"There's nothing to worry about, Russ.  Everything's under control."

In light of how things had come together, he couldn't argue with that.

"All right, let me see the complaint."  He took a quick look.  "Good

call.  If you add in a rape charge, it might cloud the motive.  Most

newbies would've thrown in every theory they could think of."

"You only need one when it's good," I said.  "I'm going to head over at

two for the arraignment.  I assume you don't need to come with me."