“Thank you, Mr. Prosecutor, you may step back to the table.” Lyman was an older judge; he knew the games lawyers played. “And the disposition of the defendant pending trial?”
Coin took his place behind the table as he addressed the judge. “We will hold the defendant either at the city or county jail, whichever is deemed the safest place for her.”
“Miss Quinn?” the judge asked.
Sam knew there was no chance that Kelly Wilson would be given bail. She said, “I have no objection to the disposition at this time, Your Honor. Though, as to a previous matter, I would like to waive the right of Miss Wilson to have the charges heard by a grand jury.” Kelly was already facing a probable cause finding for two counts of first-degree murder. Sam didn’t want to open her up to further charges by convening a grand jury. “My client has no wish to slow down the process.”
“Very well.” Lyman made another note. “Mr. Coin, is it your intention to treat this as an open discovery case, meaning you will turn over evidence and such and not hold anything back?”
Coin held out his hands, a disciple to Christ. “Always, Your Honor. Unless there is some legal basis, open discovery has always been this office’s policy.”
Sam felt her nostrils flare. She reminded herself that the hospital tape would be Rusty’s fight.
Lyman asked, “Are you satisfied with that, Miss Quinn?”
“I am for the moment, Your Honor. I am serving as co-counsel today. My father will be filing motions with the Court as soon as he is able.”
Lyman put down his pen. For the first time, he looked at her without disapproval. “How is your father?”
“Eager to mount a vigorous defense for Miss Wilson, Your Honor.”
Lyman twisted his lips to the side, clearly unsure of her tone. “Are you aware that this is a capital murder case, Miss Quinn, which means the prosecution may well seek the death penalty, as is its right?”
“Yes, Your Honor, I am.”
“I’m unfamiliar with the customs where you’re from, Miss Quinn, but down here, we take our capital cases very seriously.”
“I’m from Winder Road, about six miles up the street, Your Honor. I am aware of the seriousness of these charges.”
Lyman clearly did not like the giggles in the gallery. He asked Sam, “Why do I feel that you are not really operating in the capacity of co-counsel to your father?” He gestured broadly with his hand. “In other words, you have no intention of continuing your work through to the trial.”
“I believe you put Mr. Grail in a similar position, Your Honor, but I assure you I am engaged in this case and intend to fully support Miss Wilson in any capacity that is required of me in aid of her defense.”
“All right.” He smiled, and Sam felt her blood run cold, because she had walked right into his trap. “Do you have any question or doubt in your mind about the defendant’s ability to assist you or understand the nature of these proceedings?”
“I’m not raising that issue at this time, Your Honor.”
Lyman would not let her off so easily. “Let’s humor ourselves, Miss Quinn. Should you, as co-counsel, raise the issue in the future—”
“I would only do so on the basis of any scientific testing, Your Honor.”
“Scientific testing?” He looked askance.
Sam said, “Miss Wilson has exhibited a vulnerability to suggestion, Your Honor, as I am certain the prosecution can confirm.”
Coin jumped up. “Your Honor, I cannot—”
Sam talked over him. “Miss Wilson’s verbal intellectual range is narrow for an eighteen-year-old. I would like to have assessed her memory encoding for visual-non-verbal communication, language functioning, any deficiencies in word and encoded information retrieval, and to quantify her emotional and intellectual quotient.”
Coin huffed a laugh. “And you expect the county to pay for all that?”
Sam turned to look at him. “I was told you take your capital cases seriously down here.”
There was a bubble of laughter from the crowd.
Lyman banged his gavel several times before they settled. Sam caught the slight lift of the corners of his mouth as he suppressed a smile. Judges rarely enjoyed themselves in the courtroom. This man had been on the bench so long that he likely thought he had seen everything.
“Your Honor,” Sam said, testing the waters. “If I may raise another issue?”
He gave her an overly generous nod to illustrate the latitude he was allowing. “Why not?”
“Thank you, Your Honor,” Sam said. “Miss Wilson’s parents are eager to return to their home. A timeline from the prosecution as to when they expect to release the Wilson home would be welcomed.”
Ken Coin jumped up from the table again. “Your Honor, as yet the county does not have an estimate for completion of said search of the Wilson abode.” He seemed to realize he could not match Sam’s formalized language. He flashed his teeth at the judge. “These things are very hard to predict, Judge. We need time for a thorough search, properly performed under the guidelines put forth in the warrant.”
Sam kicked herself for not reading the warrant ahead of time.
Lyman said, “There is your answer, Miss Quinn, such as it is.”
“Thank you, Your Honor.” Sam watched him pick up the gavel. She mulled the judge’s such as it is in her mind. She felt a rush of certainty, her instinct urging her that now was the time. “Your Honor?”
Lyman again laid down his gavel. “Miss Quinn?”
“As to discovery—”
“I believe that has been addressed.”
“I understand that, Your Honor; however, there was a video recording made of Miss Wilson yesterday afternoon while she was being detained at the hospital.”
“Your Honor.” Coin was on his feet again. “‘Detained?’”
“In custody,” Sam clarified.
“Oh, come on,” Coin’s tone dripped with disgust. “You can’t—”
“Your Honor—”
Lyman held up his hand to stop them both. He sat back in his chair. He steepled together his fingers in thought. These moments happened often in the courtroom, where the judge stopped the proceedings to think through the intricacies of a request. Most times, they ended up kicking the problem down the road, asked for motions to be written, or simply said they would delay their decision to another time.
Sometimes, they threw the question back to the attorneys, which meant that you had to be prepared to succinctly argue the merits or run the risk of prejudicing the judge against your position for the remainder of the case.
Sam tensed, feeling as if she was locked into the starting block, staring down the open track. Lyman had mentioned discovery very early on, so he likely knew that Ken Coin was prepared to follow the letter, not the spirit, of the law.
Lyman gave Sam the nod.