Dexter leaned forward, horrified. “But your honor! That would wipe out our entire case!”
“Fine,” Ben said. “Then I additionally move that the charges against my client be dismissed.”
The response from the gallery was audible. It was like a tremendous sucking of air, a suspended moment of collective disbelief. Ben could hear Andrea McNaughton’s sob-wracked voice carrying through the courtroom. “No,” she was saying, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Please, God, no.”
Ben tried to focus everyone’s attention on the issue at hand. “Your honor, you know the Fourth Amendment did not contemplate that warrants would be distributed in this cavalier manner.”
Judge Hart didn’t bother disagreeing. “I won’t for one moment condone what the police department—and one of my colleagues on the bench—have done here. But I’m not willing to eviscerate the prosecution’s case on a capital crime—”
“There’s case law!” Ben turned in time to see Christina running forward, carrying a laptop computer she kept in the courtroom with a Pacific Reporter CD-ROM. “I remembered reading it in class. It’s directly on point.”
“I can’t believe it,” Dexter said. “I’ve never heard of any such case.”
“Well, there it is,” Christina said. “Read it and weep.”
Dexter’s face became tight and tense. “Who is she, anyway?”
“My legal assistant,” Ben answered.
“A legal assistant?” He turned toward the bench. “Your honor! She can’t be heard by the court! She isn’t even a lawyer!”
“And she knows the case law better than you do. Rather embarrassing, isn’t it?” Judge Hart peered at the flickering blue screen. “State versus Gabardino, 1985. Yes.” Her eyes quickly scanned the report. “I remember it, too. And it is directly on point. Bottom line, if the police don’t properly establish probable cause, then any warrant issued isn’t worth the paper it’s printed on. Damn.” She readjusted her glasses. “I’m sorry, Mr. Prosecutor. I hate this. But I have no choice. If there was any way I could cure the violation without invalidating the evidence, I would. But it just isn’t possible. The warrants are hereby suppressed. Any evidence obtained pursuant to them is inadmissible.”
The buzz in the gallery intensified. Even though the lawyers were at the bench, everyone could hear what was happening—and no one could believe it.
“No!” Dexter shouted. “That puts my whole case in the toilet!”
“I’m afraid I must agree with that evaluation,” the judge said. “What you’ve got left wouldn’t’ve gotten you past the preliminary hearing. You’re dismissed, Mr. Dexter.” She pounded her gavel. “The defendant is free to go.”
“Nooo!” The cry rose from the back of the courtroom, a long keening wail. “Please, no!” Ben didn’t bother looking to see who it was. He already knew.
“And let me say one thing more,” Judge Hart added, glaring down harshly at Sergeant Matthews. “I don’t want to get home and hear or read about how police do their best but those crazy liberal judges put criminals back on the street. I didn’t want to do this. But you left me absolutely no choice. When you give your press conference this afternoon, make one thing perfectly clear. You have no one to blame for this result but yourself!” Hart grabbed her gavel and slammed it down. “This court is in recess. Good-bye and good riddance!” She rose abruptly and hurried to the back door leading to her private chambers.
The courtroom dissolved into pandemonium. Everyone was talking at once, except those few still so shocked they couldn’t speak. Several reporters dashed toward the back door, eager to be the first to phone in this titanic surprise turn of events.
“Goddamn you, Kincaid,” Dexter said, grabbing him by the arm. “How can you live with yourself?”
“Get your filthy paws off me,” Ben said, shaking him loose. “Unless I’m very much mistaken, you knew exactly how those warrants were obtained. For all I know this ‘emergency warrant’ crap has been going on for years. But did you come clean about it? No. You kept your mouth shut so you could hang onto your illegally obtained evidence. You’re just as much to blame as Matthews.”
Dexter tried to reply, but Ben didn’t hang around to listen. He returned to the defense table—where his client was waiting.
Her expression was dazed and barely comprehending. “She said … the case is dismissed?”
“She did.”
“Does that mean it’s over?”
“It does.” Ben smiled. “You’re free, Keri. Free to go.”
“But—can they try me again? Drum up some new evidence?”
Ben shook his head. “Not after a dismissal for cause at trial by the judge. Double jeopardy attaches.” He laid his hand on her shoulder. “It’s over, Keri. For good.”
Wordlessly, Keri flung her arms around Ben’s neck. “Oh, my God. I can’t believe it.” She hugged him tightly. A moment later, Ben felt a drop of moisture that told him she was crying. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
Over her shoulder, Ben saw the television reporters going into action through the open courtroom doors. The female anchorwoman was apparently delivering a live bulletin. “And so, in this stunning turn of events that some are already calling the greatest miscarriage of justice in the history of the state of Oklahoma …”
Ben winced. It was starting. And it would only get worse.
“Mr. Kincaid!” another reporter shouted. “You’ve always had a reputation for high morals and integrity—until now. Care to comment?”
No, he did not. Ben steered Keri toward the back door. Given the circumstances, he felt certain Judge Hart would permit them to escape through her chambers.
He stepped around the defense table—and saw Andrea McNaughton making her way toward them. Her arms were outstretched; her fingers were curled like claws.
Ben held up his hands. “Mrs. McNaughton, please. I know you must be terribly—”
He didn’t get a chance to finish. She pivoted suddenly and hurled herself, not at him, but at Keri. She knocked Keri to the floor, making her head thud harshly against the tile, then sat astride her, pounding her head and chest with her fists. “You bitch!” Andrea cried. “You filthy murderous bitch!”
“Bailiff!” Ben shouted. He ran behind Andrea and tried to pull her off Keri. No use. Andrea’s blows continued to rain down on Keri, pummeling her chest with one hand, while she tried to pull Keri’s hair out with the other. A fist landed square in the center of Keri’s face. Keri screamed in pain; blood spurted everywhere. Only when the bailiff arrived were they finally able to pry Andrea away.
The bailiff pulled Andrea’s arms behind her back and snapped cuffs over her wrists. “Consider yourself in custody.”
Ben held up his hands. “Brent, she’s upset, for obvious reasons. I don’t think we want to press charges—”
“Like hell we don’t!” Keri pushed herself up off the floor, her face smeared with blood. “I want her to pay for what she did!”
“Filthy whoring bitch!” Andrea shouted, spitting in Keri’s face.
Keri wiped it away, furious. “Don’t blame me for what happened. If you’d been giving Joe what he needed, he wouldn’t’ve had to come to me!”
Andrea strained against the cuffs, craning her neck forward. “I’ll get you! I will get you!”
“Get her out of here!” Ben urged. The bailiff dutifully hauled Andrea toward the back. “Keri—!”
Too late. She was gone. But she couldn’t have gone far. Ben knew there would be a fleet of reporters wanting to interview her, and now, for the first time in months, she would be free to talk. Which she probably would. No matter how carefully lawyers counseled their clients, few were able to resist the siren call of fifteen seconds on TV. And after all she had been through, Keri probably had a lot she wanted to say.