The Heavens May Fall (25 page)

As he started typing another name into the computer, a knock on the side of Max’s cubicle pulled him from his task. Max looked up to see Lieutenant Briggs, a squat man with jittery, gecko eyes, standing over him.

“Commander Walker wants to see you,” Briggs said.

Max glanced over his shoulder at Niki, who shrugged. They both started to stand up, and Briggs said, “Just Max.”

Niki eased back into her seat, and Max followed Briggs to Walker’s office, where Walker sat in a chair behind a large metal desk. Max sat opposite him, and Briggs slid into a corner, off Walker’s left shoulder, and remained standing.

“What’ve you been working on this morning?” Walker asked. The question came across the desk in a casual tone, but Walker’s face and crossed arms signaled a heaviness that gave Max pause.

“Just going over some reports,” Max answered. A true answer but maybe not completely honest.

“Do these reports have anything to do with the Pruitt trial that starts on Monday?”

Max saw where the conversation would be heading. “No. It’s something else.”

“Do these reports have anything to do with your wife’s death?”

Max didn’t answer.

“Dammit, Max. What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Walker paused, but again Max said nothing.

Walker continued. “I thought I made it clear that you can have no involvement with that investigation. We have rules, and those rules are there for a reason.”

“Someone sent me that key,” Max said. “What was I supposed to do? Ignore it?”

“You were supposed to turn it over to me and let us take care of it.”

“I did turn it over to—”

“Not for three weeks.” Walker let those words hang in the air for a moment. “Yes, Max, you held onto a key piece of evidence for three weeks. For God’s sake, we know how to read a postmark.”

“Are you telling me that if I turned that key in right away, you would have authorized a detective to drive around to every storage locker in the state and find the lock it fit? You know damn well that wouldn’t have happened. It would have gone into a file and gathered dust.”

“You compromised the investigation, Max.” Walker leaned onto his desk and pressed his index finger into the faux wood-grain surface to make his point. The conversation had officially gone to boil. “The chain of custody for the murder weapon in your wife’s case goes through you—the husband. You know damned well that the husband is the first suspect we look at in a spousal homicide.”

“Are you . . . ?” Max almost stood up but held himself back. “You’d better be careful what you say next, Walker. There are things I’d gladly lose my job over, and you’re stepping mighty close to that line.”

“For fuck’s sake, Max. I’m not accusing you of killing Jenni. But I’m not a high-priced defense attorney. It’s an easy case to make that the man who would normally be the number-one suspect in his wife’s murder had a hand in steering the path of the investigation.”

“If I had anything to do with Jenni’s death, I sure as hell wouldn’t bring the murder weapon to you, would I? No defense attorney’s going to care that I drove around the Twin Cities trying to match a key to a lock.”

“You checked the case file out of the archives.” Walker picked up a piece of paper from the corner of his desk and slid it in front of Max. Max didn’t need to study it. He recognized it as the log from the archive room. He recognized his signature. Walker sat back in his seat. “You want to tell my why the hell you would take the investigation file into your custody? Don’t you see how this’ll look if we ever charge someone?”

“It was a cold case. Nothing was happening on it. Nothing’s happened on her case since Parnell retired. Someone had to—”

“Not you.” Walker smoothed his words with a touch of understanding. “We would have reopened the case. Voss is a damned good investigator. He would have found the car.”

Max shook his head unconsciously as he tried to picture Voss going out every night, looking for that storage locker. He tried to picture Walker authorizing such an expense. Every man in that room knew the truth and Max didn’t bother calling Walker out on the lie.

“Max, this isn’t your case. It’s never been your case. You’ve left me no choice. I’m putting an official letter of reprimand in your personnel file.”

“Reprimand. Are you shitting me?”

“Detective Rupert, watch your tone.” Walker’s words came slowly and with a stab as chilly as the October rain that beat against his window. “I ordered you to stay away from your wife’s case. Not only did you flat-out ignore me, you took it home. It’s tainted with your involvement. We have policies for a good reason. And if I hear that you are working on this case—even in your off-hours, you’ll be looking at another reprimand and more.”

Max felt a chill wash over him as he studied Walker’s face.

Now Briggs piped in for the first time since retreating to the corner. “And that includes pumping Voss for information,” he said.

Walker shot Briggs a look that caused Briggs to step back into his corner. Then he looked back at Max. “Yes, we know about your meetings with Voss. And just so you don’t blame him, he didn’t come to us. We found out on our own.”

Max looked at Briggs and remembered a day when Briggs watched him and Voss leave City Hall on their way to grab a beer.

“I got a call from Assistant County Attorney Frank Dovey this morning,” Walker said. “He was on his way to a motion hearing in the Pruitt case, and let’s just say he’s less than happy. He thinks you’ve walked away from the case.”

“That’s bull—” Max laid up. “That’s not true. The Pruitt case is as ready as it will ever be.”

“That’s not what Dovey says. He has real concerns. He says you haven’t been able to show that Ben Pruitt made it back here from Chicago.”

“We have an eyewitness saying she saw him get out of a car and walk up to the house at the very hour that the ME says Mrs. Pruitt was killed.”

“Dovey said that he tasked you with finding that evidence and you dropped the ball. He says your mind’s somewhere else . . . and I have to agree with him.”

“Dovey’s setting up his scapegoat. Nothing more.”

“I’ve worked with Frank Dovey,” Briggs said. “He’s a damned good lawyer.”

“Lieutenant Briggs,” Walker said. “Would you mind stepping out for a minute? I want to have a private chat with Detective Rupert.”

At first Briggs acted as if he hadn’t heard Walker. Then the words hit him and he gave Walker an awkward nod. “Sure,” he said, and he made his way out the door.

Once Briggs was gone, Commander Walker took a breath to suggest that he too disliked Briggs’s presence in the office. “It’s just us now, Max. Off the record. I’ve given you your chewing-out and believe me I don’t like doing that kind of shit, but it’s part of the job.”

Max didn’t respond.

“Truth is, I’m worried about you, Max. This thing with you delving into your wife’s case, it’s not only wrong, but it’s unhealthy. I know you think that no one can do the case justice besides you—and who knows, maybe you’re right—but look at you. You look like hell. You look like you haven’t slept for a week.”

“I’m fine,” Max said.

“Max, I need you to be on your game here. You can’t do that if you’re sneaking around all night on a case you’re forbidden to even look at.”

“You don’t understand,” Max said in a way that sounded like he was talking only to himself. “It’s that sneaking around that’s allowed me to sleep at all. Someone sent me a key and a note saying that my wife was murdered. I can’t just hand that over to someone else and go back to sleep. I found the car. I got the ball rolling again.”

“That’s right. You did,” Walker said. “And now that it’s rolling, it’s time for you to put it aside. Give Voss a chance. He’s bright, and he’ll move heaven and earth to get to the bottom of your wife’s death. In the meantime, I need you to let it go. I’m not saying forget it. I’m saying let Voss take it over, and you go back to your cases. Can you do that?”

“Can I,”
Max thought,
is not the same as “will I.”
But such a pedantic answer wasn’t worthy of his relationship with Commander Walker. Walker had been a good leader for the Homicide Unit. A man who did right by his people. Max knew that Walker had no choice in reprimanding him. Walker had Briggs to deal with, and Briggs happened to be the pet of Chief Murphy.

Max thought about his answer and said, “You picked Voss for this case, and I trust you, so I’ll trust Voss . . . for now. That’s the best I can do.”

Chapter 42

At the motions
in limine
hearing, Boady and Dovey hashed out the details of the coming trial. They covered which crime-scene photos and autopsy photos would be admitted and which were overly prejudicial or might lead to an unfair visceral reaction from a jury. They covered procedures for jury selection, limits on
voir dire
questioning, and foundational issues for some of the State’s exhibits. The last issue to be addressed was Ben Pruitt’s sanction by the Minnesota Board of Professional Responsibility, a sanction that gave an official stamp to the allegation that Ben Pruitt had been dishonest with a tribunal, a sanction that Boady needed to be kept out.

“Your Honor,” Dovey began, “Mr. Pruitt introduced a document at a previous trial, a letter of reprimand purportedly signed by Detective Rupert’s superior, Commander Walker. This letter suggested that Detective Rupert had been reprimanded for falsifying evidence. It was later determined that the letter was a forgery. May I approach?”

“You may,” said Judge Ransom.

Dovey took the sanction document to the bench, had it marked, and entered it into evidence.

“Mr. Pruitt was formally sanctioned by the Board of Professional Responsibility for permitting a fraud on the court. The State should be permitted to introduce this evidence to show the past relationship between these two men, Pruitt and Rupert, and to show the extent to which the defendant will use artifice to win his cases.”

Dovey sat down.

“Your Honor.” Boady stood. “The State wants to introduce Mr. Pruitt’s sanction for one purpose only. He wants to denigrate the character of the defendant in the eyes of the jury. As this Honorable Court is well aware, such character evidence is inadmissible against the defendant. The sanction misrepresents the facts of that case. Mr. Pruitt was given that forged document by his investigator, a man we believe was paid off by Mr. Pruitt’s client. Mr. Pruitt didn’t know it was a forgery until the ethics investigation. Your Honor, the State knows full well that such evidence is prohibited as being improper character evidence.”

Judge Ransom nodded slowly as he read the sanction document. “Would you agree Professor Sanden—”

“Your Honor,” Dovey interrupted. “I object to the Court referring to Mr. Sanden as ‘Professor Sanden.’ It inappropriately elevates his status in the eyes of the jury.”

“I agree with you, Mr. Dovey, but seeing as there is no jury here yet, I’ll note your objection.”

Judge Ransom turned back to Boady. “Professor Sanden, do you teach evidence classes?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“And in your endeavors to teach the rules of evidence, have you explained to your students the admissibility of impeachment evidence should a defendant take the stand to testify?”

“I do, Your Honor.”

“So, I would assume that you would instruct those students that evidence of a lack of veracity, especially specific incidents where that lack of veracity occurs in court, is admissible on the issue of witness credibility?”

Boady knew that this would be the outcome of the argument, but he had to pull himself over that last line. “Yes, Your Honor, but only if that witness takes the stand.”

“Precisely,” Judge Ransom smiled. “If Mr. Pruitt takes the stand in his own defense, I will permit Mr. Dovey to introduce the evidence of the sanction. You will, of course, be permitted to explain the specific circumstances of the sanction—if you think that will lessen its impact. But the document will come in if Mr. Pruitt testifies.”

So there it was. If Ben testifies, the sanction comes in. Dovey would be able to argue that Ben Pruitt had lied to a court before. Committed fraud in order to win a case for a client. How much further would a man like that go if his own skin were at risk? Why wouldn’t he do it again—and more?

But did Ben need to testify? The State would play the interview that Ben had given to Max Rupert. Ben was unwavering in his claim of innocence, he gave an impassioned plea for Max to find his wife’s killer. And it laid out the details of Ben’s alibi.

But then again, Boady knew that jurors wanted—needed—to hear a defendant say he didn’t do it. They wanted to look him in the eye and hear those words from the man’s own mouth. “Right to remain silent” be damned.

PART 3

The Trial

Chapter 43

There’s a certain logic to calling the lead detective as the first witness, the same way it’s logical to spread frosting on a cake before you dash it with sprinkles. The detective can tell the story from beginning to end, giving the jury an overall picture of the State’s case. The rest of the witnesses then fill in their respective bits.

When Max took the stand, he saw Lila Nash sitting just behind Boady Sanden. Max tried to figure out her presence in the courtroom and remembered that she’d once told him that she wanted to go to law school. He hadn’t seen her in years, and his mind flashed back to that cold winter night when he saw her tied to a barn hoist. The man who was preparing to rape Lila that night was the first man Max had ever killed, and Max never lost a wink of sleep over it.

Max gave Lila a small smile and nod, and she returned the greeting.

Dovey began his direct examination and Max recounted the events, starting with the jogger who found the body of Jennavieve Pruitt. By the time they broke for lunch, Dovey had covered the identification of Mrs. Pruitt, the search of the house, and Max’s interview with Ben Pruitt. They played the video and audio of that meeting from beginning to end. Max’s stomach always tightened when he testified at trials, and he didn’t realize how hungry he’d grown until the judge called an adjournment for the lunch break.