By Reason of Insanity (David Brunelle Legal Thriller Series Book 3) Read online

  It wasn’t a request. Brunelle knew it.

  “Okay,” he said. “Us. Lizzy. Museum. Rauschenburg virus.”

  “Exhibit,” Kat laughed. “You jackass.”

  “Exhibit,” he confirmed. “You know, you’re not the first woman to call me a jackass.”

  Kat raised an eyebrow. “You really want to go there?”

  Brunelle thought for a moment. “No. No, I don’t. So, what time on Saturday?”

  “The museum opens at ten.”

  “Ugh, that’s early. Okay. Should I just meet you there?”

  “No.” Kat grinned.

  “No?”

  “No,” Kat purred. “We’ll all leave together after you roll out of my bed and make breakfast for us.”

  Brunelle smiled. He liked the sound of that. “Us.”

  Kat locked her eyes on his. “Us.”

  Chapter 15

  The contested competency hearing was scheduled three weeks out. The lawyers needed time to prepare and the doctors had very busy schedules. Professional courtesy prevented Brunelle and Edwards from simply picking a date and issuing. Instead, the date was selected when everyone was available and the hearing was scheduled for nine a.m. in front of Judge Harold Perry.

  It was Perry’s last term. He’d been a judge since before Brunelle got his bar card. He’d presided over some of the county’s most high-profile trials. And he probably should have retired about five years earlier. But, on the promise he wouldn’t run again, he ran unopposed one last time—no one ever filed against the great and powerful Judge Perry—and was allowed to ride off into the sunset of a memorable and accomplished judicial career. But first, he would preside over Keesha Sawyer’s competency hearing.

  Brunelle arrived about fifteen minutes early for the hearing. Time enough to set up his things on his counsel table and pour a cup of water to lubricate the questions and arguments he’d be making over the better part of the day.

  It also gave him time to check in with his expert, Gregory Thompson, Ph.D. He was youngish, with strawberry blond hair and a struggling beard. Brunelle was beginning to notice that more and more people he encountered professionally were younger than him. Thompson was sitting on a bench in the hallway, reviewing his report.

  “Dr. Thompson,” Brunelle greeted the psychologist and extended a hand. “Thanks for coming in this morning.”

  Thompson stood and shook Brunelle’s hand. “Of course. Thank you for accommodating my schedule.” He looked at his watch. “How long will this take?”

  “The entire hearing will probably take all day,” Brunelle answered. “But you should only be on the stand for an hour or so.”

  “Only,” Thompson scoffed. “That seems like an awfully long time to explain one simple issue.”

  Brunelle smiled. “Nothing’s simple when you get lawyers involved. The defense will put on their own expert after you who’ll say she’s incompetent. Then we’ll spend all afternoon arguing about who’s right and why, only to have the judge announce a decision he probably already made before he even took the bench.”

  Thompson shook his head. “What a strange system. Having a judge with no medical or psychological training decide a mental health issue makes no sense.”

  “Maybe not,” Brunelle agreed. “But that’s what you guys are for. You’re witnesses. You give the judge your opinions, then he decides. You can’t both be right, so someone has to decide who to believe, you or Adrianos.”

  “Adrianos?” Thompson’s eyes widened. “Peter Adrianos? That’s the other psychologist?”

  “Yes,” Brunelle answered cautiously. “Do you know him?”

  “I know of him,” Thompson answered with a chuckle. “He’s nuts.”

  Brunelle raised an eyebrow. “Really?” Adrianos had certainly seemed full of himself, but not actually crazy or anything.

  “Well, not clinically,” Thompson clarified. “But he’s a little out there with his thinking. He used to do some other stuff before he got into psychology, so that informs his thinking sometimes.”

  “Oh yeah?” Brunelle replied. “What other stuff?”

  Thompson laughed. “I think he used to be a lawyer.”

  *

  “All rise!”

  Judge Perry’s bailiff pounded the gavel as the aged jurist took the bench. None of the other judges actually pounded a gavel anymore, but Perry had become a judge back when they still did and he’d be damned if he was going to stop now.

  Perry sat down with some effort—back pain, well known by the attorneys thanks to the whispers that fill a courthouse’s hallways. He had a shock of thick white hair and a full white beard. It was generally accepted that Judge Adams had grown his beard in an attempt to look like a young Perry.

  The judge fumbled a bit with the pleadings his bailiff had left on the bench for him, then he looked up. “Are the parties ready on the matter of the State of Washington versus, uh,” he looked down at the name again, “Keesha Sawyer?”

  “Yes, Your Honor,” Brunelle answered, being sure to stand to address the court.

  “The defense is ready,” Edwards announced. The corrections officers—they didn’t like being called ‘guards’—had brought Keesha in the secure side hallway about two minutes before Perry took the bench. Edwards had managed a very brief, whispering consultation with her client. That is, Edwards had whispered. Keesha hadn’t seen the need apparently. She’d answered rather loudly in fact, and Brunelle had had no difficulty hearing her protestations.

  “But I am competent.”

  “It was self defense.”

  “I want to go to trial.”

  Brunelle smiled and wished the rules allowed the State to call a defendant to the stand. He knew Edwards would never let her testify. He’d have to hope for some sort of helpful outburst.

  The courtroom was mostly empty. The only people in the gallery were Dr. Thompson, waiting to testify, a lone reporter from the local paper, and, much to Brunelle’s surprise and delight, Robyn Dunn.

  She smiled and waved when Brunelle noticed her. “Hiya, Mr. B.,” she said with a wink.

  Brunelle smiled and nodded back. He wasn’t much of a winker.

  Adrianos, Edwards had informed him, would be arriving around ten. Usually, dueling experts listened to each other’s testimony, so they could call bullshit on each other. Apparently, Adrianos didn’t feel the need to do that. He really was an arrogant S.O.B.

  “Would the court like a brief opening statement before we begin with the witnesses?” Brunelle asked.

  Perry scowled. “I don’t need you two to tell me what the issues are or how I should rule. I know what the issues are and I know how you want me to rule. I’ve done more of these competency hearings than you two combined. You put on your witnesses, counsel, and I’ll make my decision.”

  Brunelle offered a contrite, “Yes, Your Honor,” then looked to Edwards.

  “Here we go,” he whispered.

  Edwards nodded. “Yep, here we go.”

  Brunelle looked up at Perry, still glowering down at them. “The State calls Dr. Gregory Thompson.”

  Chapter 16

  Brunelle didn’t waste a lot of time on the introductory stuff. If there’d been a jury, he would have had Thompson lay out all his credentials and degrees and certificates and everything else to establish his bona fides. As it was, Brunelle simply had him identify himself as a staff psychologist at Western State Hospital. That would be enough for Perry.

  Then straight to business. He’d examined Keesha Sawyer. He’d asked her all the right questions and she’d given all the right answers. She knew what she’d done, what she was charged with, and what she was facing. She knew Brunelle was the prosecutor, Edwards was her lawyer, and the old guy on the bench was the judge. She might be insane, but she was competent.

  “Thank you, doctor,” Brunelle said as he finished up. “No further questions.”

  Edwards stood up and stepped casually toward the witness stand. “Good morning, doctor.”r />
  “Good morning,” Thompson replied.

  Edwards was clearly relaxed. There was no jury—a judge made the competency determination alone—so the lawyers could relax a bit and enjoy matching wits with a witness without the added pressure of acting a role for the jury. “So, you believe my client is competent to stand trial?”

  Thompson thought for a split-second before answering. Brunelle liked that. “Yes.”

  “And that’s based on your assessment that she understands the charges against her and the nature of the prosecution?”

  Again, Thompson thought for a moment before answering. “Yes.”

  “But there’s another part of the equation, isn’t there, doctor? She also has to have the ability to assist her attorney, isn’t that true?”

  Thompson nodded, lower lip protruding thoughtfully. “That is true. And I observed nothing that would suggest she lacked the ability to do so.”

  Edwards nodded. She pointed her pen absently at the psychologist. “She believes she was justified in killing her mother, doesn’t she?”

  Before Thompson could answer, Keesha offered a loud. “Uh-huh. That’s right.” Edwards spun around and hushed her, a finger raised to her lips. Keesha nodded, a bit wide-eyed, and acknowledged her lawyer’s instructions with a pantomime zipper across her lips.

  Edwards returned her attention to the witness.

  “Could you repeat the question?” he asked.

  “My client has a fixed belief that the killing of her mother was justified, isn’t that right?”

  Thompson did his split-second thinking bit, then answered, “Yes, that’s right. That particular idea is quite fixed in her thinking.”

  Edwards threw her arms wide. “Then how can she possibly assist in her own defense?”

  Thompson cocked his head. “I don’t understand the question.”

  Edward crossed her arms. “How can my client possibly assist me in defending her if she has a fixed delusion that the killing was justified because her mother was turning her into a zombie?”

  “And the neighborhood children too, I believe,” Thompson added.

  “Yes, thank you,” Edwards replied. “And the neighborhood children too. You don’t expect me to try to get the jury to believe that was actually going on, do you?”

  Thompson shook his head. “No, ma’am. I don’t imagine that would be very effective.”

  “Exactly.” Another, more forceful jab with her pen to accentuate her point. “So how can she assist me?”

  Thompson thought for several seconds. Finally, he said, “Well, as I understand it, you’re a very experienced criminal defense attorney. You’re the one trained in the law and who knows all the defenses and who can explain it all to the jury. I’m sure you’ve had more than one client who lied to you or was otherwise unhelpful, but that didn’t make them incompetent.”

  Bravo, thought Brunelle.

  Edwards frowned. “Let me try it a different way.” She gestured toward the witness stand. “Can you help me by handing me that banana there?”

  Thompson looked around where he was sitting. There were definitely no bananas anywhere near him. “Excuse me?”

  “That banana right there,” Edwards repeated, still pointing, but looking away as if bored. “Right there in front of you.”

  Thompson regarded his area again. “You mean the microphone?” he asked, laying a hand on the stand of the device in front of him.

  “That’s not a microphone, my good doctor,” Edwards replied, turning back to him. “It’s a banana. Could you please hand me the banana?”

  Brunelle shook his head. She was being cute. Perry hated cute. He supposed he could have objected, but decided to let Edwards take enough rope to hang herself.

  Thompson sighed. “I see what you’re trying to do, but regardless, it’s a microphone.”

  “How can you help me with the banana,” Edwards asked, “if you can’t even see that it’s a banana?”

  “Because it’s not a banana,” Thompson replied. “It’s a microphone.”

  “I say it’s a banana,” Edwards said. “Ms. Sawyer says it was justified.”

  “You’re both wrong,” Thompson replied. “And I’m the sane one, so I can explain to the judge that this is a microphone and not a banana. When the time comes to discuss the murder at the trial, I imagine you’ll do the same for the jury.”

  Edwards huffed. Her trick wasn’t working. “Look, just hand me the banana and we can move on to my other questions.”

  Before Thompson could reply, Perry leaned down from the bench. “You have no more questions, Ms. Edwards.”

  “But I do, Your Honor,” she protested, not comprehending the judge’s proclamation.

  “No,” he said. “You don’t. Sit down.”

  Edwards hesitated, but only for a moment. “Yes, Your Honor.” She’d made her point, such as it was.

  “Any re-direct examination, Mr. Brunelle?” Perry invited.

  “Just briefly, Your Honor.” Brunelle stood up and gestured to the microphone. “Doctor, could you hand me that orange?”

  Thompson’s face twisted into a puzzled expression. “Orange?”

  Brunelle grinned. “Orange you glad I didn’t say banana?”

  The corrections officer laughed. The judge didn’t. “Sit down, Mr. Brunelle.”

  He did as he was told.

  Edwards looked over at him and shook her head. “You’re such a jackass,” she whispered.

  Brunelle smiled. “So I hear.”

  “Who’s the next witness?” Perry demanded as Dr. Thompson stepped down form the witness stand.

  “I am!” boomed a voice from the doorway. All eyes turned to the tall, handsome man who’d just thrown the doors open. “Dr. Peter Adrianos, Your Honor. Ready to educate the court.”

  Brunelle grinned to himself. Oh, this ought to be good.

  Chapter 17

  After Edwards rushed over to Adrianos and whispered frantically in his ear—likely to shut the hell up—she pointed to the witness stand and announced, “The defense calls Dr. Peter Adrianos.”

  The psychologist sauntered to the stand, offering Brunelle a nod and Robyn a wink as he approached the judge and raised his right hand.

  Perry’s right hand was also raised. “Do you solemnly swear or affirm that the testimony you will give in this proceeding is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?”

  “Without question,” Adrianos replied.

  Brunelle shook his head. How about a simple ‘yes’?

  He looked up at Edwards, preparing to start her exam. “Now who’s the jackass?” he whispered.

  “Oh, you’re still the jackass,” she whispered back without looking at him. “He’s my expert.”

  Brunelle smiled and picked up his pen to take notes of Adrianos’ direct.

  Edwards didn’t skimp on the credentials. Adrianos wasn’t from the state hospital, so she knew Perry would start off discounting his opinion. His education seemed impressive enough, although not as impressive as to justify his overly confident demeanor. B.A. from a state university. Master’s from a different one. Ph.D. from a small private school in Ohio. No law degree, Brunelle noted with some relief. Maybe Adrianos wasn’t such a narcissist after all.

  Then the usual litany of jobs and positions, including an internship at Western State Hospital. Then off to Cascade Mental Hospital where he’d worked his way up from staff psychologist to manager to assistant director and finally director. He had a vision for the place, he said.

  Great.

  Perry didn’t seem particularly impressed. In fact, he seemed bored, even drowsy. Brunelle had heard the stories about how Perry had been a real spitfire when he’d first taken the bench. But decades of being overturned on appeal and old-fashioned aging had left a tired shell of a man. Brunelle thought he might actually be nodding off.

  Edwards was too involved in her questioning to notice. “Now, doctor, did you have an opportunity to conduct a mental health examina
tion of my client, Keesha Sawyer?”

  Adrianos folded his hands importantly in front of him. “Yes. Yes, I did.”

  “And what was your conclusion regarding my client’s competency to stand trial?”

  Adrianos nodded and looked up to the judge to deliver his earth-shattering conclusion. But Perry had his chin on his hand and his eyes closed.

  “Ah,” Adrianos stammered. He looked back to Edwards. “I concluded that Ms. Sawyer is incompetent to stand trial.”

  “And what is that conclusion based on, doctor?”

  Adrianos looked up at Perry again. He appeared visibly irritated that the judge wasn’t riveted by his testimony. “I’m sorry,” he turned back to Edwards. “What was your question?”

  Edwards finally became aware of Perry’s dozing. She looked up to where Adrianos had been staring and sighed. Glancing around for something suitable, she fetched her three-ring binder from her counsel table and promptly dropped it to the floor.

  Thud!

  Without looking up at the suddenly awake Judge Perry, Edwards bent down and picked up her binder. “Oh, I’m sorry, Your Honor. How clumsy of me.”

  She set the binder back on her table and returned her attention to Adrianos. She never looked at the judge who was wiping his lips and checking for drool.

  “So anyway, doctor,” Edwards continued. “You said you found my client incompetent to stand trial. Could you explain the basis for your conclusion?”

  Brunelle was impressed. Not only had she awakened the judge without embarrassing him, but the old man now stared down at Adrianos, awaiting the psychologist’s response with exaggerated interest, to compensate for his previously unconscious state.

  Adrianos was aware of this extra focus and took advantage of it. He launched into the same explanation he’d given Brunelle at Cascade. It was impossible, absolutely impossible, for Keesha to assist her lawyer because she was convinced, wrongly, that her actions were justified, thereby precluding the presentation of a potentially more effective defense.