By Reason of Insanity Page 23

  Carla gave Quinn a chance to open the visas and scan the pictures of Annie and Sierra, paired with two unfamiliar names and Social Security numbers. She lowered her voice and continued. "If I'm asked about this, I'll deny I said it. But about half the fake ID operations in the city are part of an underground network that provides leads to the cops from time to time in exchange for being left alone. A few times a year, they might come to us with known felons, folks who might fit a terrorist profile, those types of things. A guy named Keshon, who is under subpoena to testify today, put a couple of fake IDs together for your sister the day after Sierra's suicide attempt." Carla nodded toward the visas in Quinn's hands. "He thought the woman looked familiar so he made some duplicate copies, found her picture on the Internet, and then came to Officer Northrop."

  It took all of Quinn's willpower not to react. He felt a stunning sense of betrayal. The bond hearing was going to be hard enough just based on the fact that they wanted Sierra to leave the Schlesingers and move in with him. But this. He opened the visas again and stared at the forlorn look on Annie's face. This was devastating. "I'll talk to my client," Quinn said.

  Carla returned to her counsel table, and Quinn sat down next to Annie. He placed the visas on the table. "You've got some explaining to do," he said.

  Big tears formed in Annie's eyes as she stared at the visas. "If I were going to use them, I would have been gone by now." Her voice was thick with emotion. "I was scared. I got them the day after Sierra's suicide attempt. I didn't know what to do. I just knew I couldn't lose my daughter."

  Quinn wanted to tell his sister how stupid she'd been. He had a sudden urge to let her have it right then and there, to let her know how incredibly difficult she was making this case, to emphasize how much this would cost them. But Annie was already devastated--Quinn could see it in her slumping shoulders and the tears spilling from her eyes.

  "We can't win this hearing now," Quinn said softly. "If we even try, Carla will poison the potential jury pool with this evidence that you were trying to flee the country. The issue of Sierra's suicide will come out in all its glory--"

  "Quinn." Annie placed a hand on his arm. "I'm ready to go to jail until the trial. Just promise me that you'll take care of Sierra."

  "I told you I would," Quinn said. "You should have just trusted me."

  A few minutes later, Judge Strackman took the bench.

  Carla rose to speak first. "As the court knows," she began, "this hearing was originally scheduled for the court to approve a plea agreement. However, in the interim, the defendant has apparently had a change of mind and--"

  "Is that true?" Strackman turned a menacing look toward Quinn.

  Quinn stood, once again regretting the dollars his firm had put into the coffers of Strackman's last opponent. "Yes, Your Honor."

  Strackman hesitated and frowned, as if he couldn't believe his ears. "I'm sure you and your client have your reasons, Mr. Newberg, but it seems to me that Ms. Duncan was being exceedingly generous. This is, after all, a case you nearly lost the first time around."

  "I'm aware of that, Your Honor," Quinn replied, choosing his words carefully. "However, there are other considerations impacting our choice."

  Strackman frowned even more deeply but apparently decided not to push further. It would be bad form for a judge to publicly bully a defendant into taking a plea. "If that's your client's decision, Mr. Newberg, then let's set a new trial date."

  "Before we do that," Carla Duncan chimed in, still standing, "the state would like the opportunity to address the matter of Ms. Newberg's bail."

  "For what reason?"

  "The terms of the bail agreement have been violated," Carla Duncan explained. "Sierra has been staying with Quinn and Anne Newberg at a Signature Towers condominium owned by Mr. Newberg. Moreover, we have recently discovered evidence that Ms. Newberg poses a substantial flight risk."

  "Mr. Newberg," Strackman said, his face reddening, "the court was very clear about the terms of your client's bond."

  Quinn took a deep breath. "May we approach?" he asked.

  The judge nodded, and the lawyers trudged to the judge's bench.

  Strackman put his hand over the mike, and Quinn launched into his explanation. Sierra Newberg had attempted suicide. When she was released from the hospital, she needed to stay with her mom. Quinn motioned toward Dr. Mancini in the first row and explained that she would be glad to testify about Sierra's need to stay with Annie. "If she testifies," Quinn said, "I'd want to do it in your office with a sealed record. I'm not willing to have my psychiatric expert discuss Sierra's suicide attempt in front of the entire world."

  Quinn took a quick breath before addressing the fake visas, but Carla Duncan interrupted.

  "I sympathize with Sierra," Carla said, moving even closer to the judge. "But when the court sets bond, it cannot do so on the basis of family members who need time with an accused felon. Half the women in jail have children who desperately need them. Plus, Your Honor, as I mentioned, we have very strong evidence that Ms. Newberg was preparing to flee the jurisdiction."

  Strackman leaned forward, all ears, as Carla told him about Annie getting a fake visa for herself and Sierra.

  The judge turned his icy stare on Quinn. "Is this true?"

  "Like any mother, Annie's first reaction was to protect her daughter. Yes, my client obtained false IDs. But that was last week. She didn't use them. She realized that it was best to work within the system."

  "Return to your seats," ordered Strackman. "You've made this easy."

  Quinn didn't move. "With respect, Your Honor, if you are prepared to rule against Annie on the basis of violating a bail agreement, then we'll just revoke her request to remain free on bond. I don't want all this incriminating evidence talked about in open court where it will poison the jury pool."

  "Return to your seat," said Strackman, his face unyielding. "Your client should have thought about that before she got this fake ID."

  For the next several minutes, Quinn simmered while Strackman set up his ruling on the bail issue. He had Carla Duncan recite the evidence she was prepared to produce about Annie's violation of the terms of her bond and her procurement of fake visas. He asked Quinn if he disputed any of the statements, and Quinn told the court he didn't dispute the factual accuracies of the statements. Based on those stipulations, and without even mentioning Sierra's attempted suicide, Strackman ruled that Annie had violated the terms of her parole and would have to remain in jail pending trial.

  "It's okay," Annie whispered to Quinn. "I'll be all right."

  "I'd like to try this case before I leave the bench," said Strackman. "But the only open dates I've got are during the last few weeks before my retirement. What if we started the trial on August twenty-first?"

  "I can make it work," Carla Duncan said.

  Unfortunately, Quinn's calendar looked open on the twenty-first as well, unless . . .

  Just yesterday, Marc Boland had obtained a trial date in Catherine O'Rourke's case. Boland and Boyd Gates had played a game of legal chicken, both claiming they wanted a speedy trial--Boland because he wanted to prove his client's innocence and get her released from jail as soon as possible; Gates because the case was "open and shut." Gates boasted that the commonwealth could be ready to try the case later that week.

  The court had taken the lawyers at their chest-thumping word and set the trial for August eighteenth, just a few months out. Quinn seized on that now.

  "We'll have to bump it back into September," Quinn said. Under no circumstances did he want this judge sentencing Annie. "I'm scheduled to start the case of Commonwealth v. O'Rourke on August eighteenth. It's expected to last at least two weeks. There's no way I can be ready to try this case until the middle of September."

  Judge Strackman locked his eyes on Quinn for a moment, peering over reading glasses, as if questioning Quinn's integrity. But Quinn also knew that deep down, Strackman didn't want the hassle of a retrial either. "I'd hate to leave this as unfi
nished business for my successor," said Strackman, half-convincingly. "But after I leave the bench on the last day of August, the only judging I plan on doing is a wine-tasting contest here and there."

  Quinn just shrugged his shoulders. Eventually they all agreed to set the case for September fifteenth, a date that would necessitate a different judge. Quinn thought he detected Strackman fighting off a smile.

  Quinn would have been smiling too if he had not just guaranteed that his sister would be spending at least three months in jail before her case would even be heard.

  65

  Quinn walked into his condo that afternoon and found Sierra sprawled out on his brown leather couch, listening to her iPod and typing on her computer. She looked up at Quinn expectantly, worry creasing her forehead. She'd known there was a good chance her mom would have her bail revoked.

  Quinn placed his briefcase by the door and took a place next to Sierra on the couch. She put her computer on the coffee table and took out her earphones. Without saying a word, Quinn could tell she already knew. Maybe she had been watching television or surfing the Internet. Maybe she just surmised it from the fact that Annie had not returned with Quinn.

  "We lost," Quinn said. "Your mom had to go to jail pending her trial." He saw the pain register on Sierra's thin face as her fears were confirmed. He wanted to reach out and touch her, maybe even give her a hug, but somehow it didn't seem right. "It's only for a few months, Sierra. She'll be free for good once this trial is over."

  Sierra stared down at the carpet, tears pooling in her eyes. She brushed them away with the back of her hand, breaking Quinn's heart in the process.

  "Are you okay?" he asked.

  She nodded. "Thanks for letting me stay here, Uncle Quinn," she said. Awkwardly, she leaned over to hug him. He held her, concerned at how thin and frail she felt.

  "We're going to get through this," he said. "One day soon, you and your mom will be together again."

  Sierra didn't respond, and Quinn wondered what was going on inside her young head. Sierra was no longer a preadolescent, a child who took assurances at face value. She knew it was possible her mom could spend the rest of her life in jail. And now Quinn would have to tell her about Annie's attempt to obtain fake visas. He didn't want Sierra hearing about that from someone else.

  Quinn took a deep breath and, in the softest voice possible, explained to Sierra that her mom had made a big mistake.

  * * *

  Later that afternoon, Quinn ducked his head into his bedroom, a room he now referred to as "Sierra's room." Sierra was sitting on the bed, watching a movie on her computer.

  "I'm going to the office for a few hours," Quinn said. "You gonna be okay?"

  "I'm fine," Sierra said. Her voice carried less melancholy than it had earlier in the day.

  "I'll be back in time for visiting hours for your mom."

  "Okay."

  "If you need anything to eat, help yourself."

  Sierra looked at him and smiled thinly. "I'll be fine, Uncle Quinn. Don't worry about me."

  "Okay."

  But he did worry. He worried nonstop until he arrived at the office and Melanie started barking out instructions. She handed him pink phone messages and a stack of prioritized e-mails she had printed out. She followed him into the office and started discussing calendar issues before he could even sit in his chair. She said that she had personally talked to Catherine O'Rourke earlier that day when Catherine had called collect.

  "You can't lead her on anymore, Quinn. If you're going to withdraw from the case, you need to let her know."

  "Right."

  Lastly, Melanie started running through the media requests. Quinn rejected them all, gun-shy after his interview on The Early Show. It wasn't about trying the case in the press anymore; it was about protecting Sierra's privacy. The best way to do that was not to comment.

  "And," said Melanie, "Mr. Espinoza wants to see you."

  Quinn rubbed a hand over his tired face. "Close the door," he said. "Have a seat."

  Melanie closed the door and sat down in front of his desk. "Are you going to fire me?" she asked.

  "Are you kidding?"

  She shrugged. "You never do this. I figured it must be pretty important."

  "It is." Quinn shifted in his seat and picked up a paper clip to keep his hands busy while he carefully selected his words. "I need to stay on Catherine O'Rourke's case. I've been thinking this weekend about how much she needs me. Her lead counsel is a good lawyer, but he doesn't know much about the insanity defense." He paused. He had never been one to bare his soul to anyone, much less his assistant.

  "This is why I went to law school, Melanie. Not to represent these white-collar criminals but to help people like Catherine. Frankly, until Annie got in trouble, I had pretty much lost sight of that."

  Melanie looked a little uncomfortable, and Quinn didn't blame her. This was certainly out of character for him.

  "The firm told me that they didn't want me handling both Catherine's case and Annie's case because they didn't think I could carry my weight financially--"

  "That's ridiculous," Melanie interjected. "You've been one of the highest--"

  "Hang on," Quinn said. "Let me finish. They let me take Catherine O'Rourke's case when we all thought Annie was going to plead out. But now, with what happened to Sierra, Annie can't take that deal. And when the judge tried to set an early trial date for Annie, I used Catherine's case as an excuse to push Annie's trial back. Long story short, I locked myself into both."

  "Good," Melanie said. "I never wanted to withdraw from Catherine O'Rourke's case in the first place."

  "My question," Quinn continued, "is this: if the firm tries to force me to drop O'Rourke's case and I refuse, will you step out with me if I start my own firm?"

  "They'd be idiots to make you do that," Melanie insisted. "But I'd be with you in a heartbeat."

  "Even if I couldn't pay you the first few weeks?"

  She thought about it, undoubtedly running budget numbers in her head. Quinn knew it was unfair to ask her to do this, but it would take him a few weeks just to get a line of credit established.

  "Same salary and benefits as here?" Melanie asked.

  "Sure."

  "And a big bonus at the end of the year to make up for not getting a salary the first two weeks?"

  "We can talk about a bonus."

  "I'm in," said Melanie. "When do we start?"

  * * *

  Ten minutes later, Robert Espinoza closed the door and parked himself in the same chair that Melanie had occupied. His freshly pressed slacks nearly crinkled as he crossed his legs.

  "I'm sorry to hear about Sierra," he said.

  "Thanks. She'll be all right."

  "Rumor has it that you told Judge Strackman you were committed to a trial date in Catherine O'Rourke's case."

  "I did," Quinn said.

  "I thought we had an understanding about that," Espinoza said.

  "We did, but I changed my mind. I can't just cut and run on a client who's looking at the death penalty, not when her other lawyer is a novice on insanity pleas."

  "And Annie no longer wants to plead out her case in light of what happened to Sierra?" Espinoza asked.

  "That's correct. But, Robert, listen--"

  "Quinn," Espinoza said sharply, "I didn't come to argue. Is your mind made up about staying on the O'Rourke case?"

  "Yes."

  Espinoza stood and looked down at Quinn. He pursed his lips and hesitated for a moment, apparently measuring his words.

  "Law partnerships, Quinn, are about more than just big bonus checks. Sometimes your partners need you. Sometimes you sacrifice for them knowing that one day, they'll do the same for you."

  Espinoza took a deep breath, giving Quinn a chance to catch up. "You'd better win those cases, Quinn. Both of them. The firm's reputation is on the line."

  "Does that mean--?"

  "I said 'both of them,' Quinn. You're a smart enough lawyer to figure that out
."

  Espinoza turned and left the office, leaving a flabbergasted Quinn. Quinn's partners had come through for him. They would carry Quinn this year; some other year he would carry them.

  Strangely, he felt like crying.

  66

  Two nights later, after Quinn and Sierra visited Annie, Quinn felt the urge to hit the town. He loved Sierra, but being a surrogate father was smothering him. He needed a little space, a few hours in the city.

  Sierra said she would be fine. "I'm thirteen, Uncle Quinn. A lot of my friends are babysitting."

  Quinn left the condo and headed down the interior moving sidewalks of the complex, toward the MGM Grand. In truth, he wanted to go gamble and unwind from a stressful day. As a bonus, he could net a few thousand bucks if the fates were with him, which of course they hadn't been for about six months. But he knew an hour at the high-stakes table would turn into two and then three. If it went well, he could be there until midmorning, and if it went bad, he'd stay even longer trying to get back to where he started.

  Instead, he decided to walk down the sidewalk of the Vegas strip, lost in a river of tourists and thrill seekers and young singles on the hunt--cameras flashing and skin showing and huge neon signs pulsating. Some people relaxed at the ocean or a mountain retreat; Quinn relaxed in the midst of a Vegas mob. The teeming electricity of the city would calm his nerves.

  When he arrived at the front of the Grand, he shuffled along with the flow of foot traffic, lost in his thoughts and the overwhelming challenges facing him that seemed as relentless as the Vegas heat.

  Catherine's case presented the most straightforward problem: how to win. She was, in all likelihood, the Avenger of Blood. At first, Quinn had had his doubts, but the theory recently pieced together by Rosemarie Mancini made sense.

  Catherine's personality had probably fractured during her undergrad experience at William and Mary, creating the Avenger and lodging it in her subconscious. When it surfaced several years later, it carried with it the references to the blood avengers from Catherine's comparative religion class. Rosemarie believed that the Avenger personality became active when Catherine started following Annie Newberg's case--a sexually abused female seeking revenge against her husband and almost getting away with it. This was why, in Dr. Mancini's opinion, Catherine had been so intent on having Quinn defend her. In Catherine's subconscious, she viewed Quinn as the defender of the blood avengers--those female furies who exacted blood vengeance against abusers and rapists and their legal accomplices.