The 17th Suspect (Women's Murder Club #17)

Until her world had come crashing down, Hill had been on the success track in advertising. She was dressed today as though she weren’t out on bail and unemployed but rather still on the executive payroll at the Ad Shop. Her patterned gray-and-white skirt suit was smart, and her wavy chestnut hair hung to her shoulders, adding to her already very young, even innocent appearance.

Behind the bar, at Yuki’s back, the gallery filled with spectators, who conversed and laughed as they found their seats. Unlike with murder trials, there was no sense of solemnity or tragedy. Instead Yuki picked up the daytime-talk-show giddiness in the air. The audience was titillated, as if they were hoping there would be goody bags under the seats.

When she last scanned the gallery, Yuki had picked out Marc Christopher’s parents, Lily and Fred Christopher, sitting two rows back from the rail.

Yuki had also spotted Cindy in the last row, with Lindsay right beside her. Yuki felt a rush of gratitude toward her friends for being here.

Just then Arthur nudged her with his elbow, and Yuki turned around as the bailiff took a stance in front of the bench and intoned, “All rise.”

The spectators, the attorneys, the victim, and the defendant all got to their feet as Judge Rathburn came through the door behind the bench and took his chair.

The bailiff called court into session.





CHAPTER 40


YUKI WATCHED THE judge swivel in his chair, getting comfortable. He poked at his laptop, spoke a few words to his clerk, then greeted the jury.

After saying how important jury duty was to the justice system and thanking the jurors for their service, the judge began to explain the case that would be presented to them.

“In California the rape statute broadly defines rape as nonconsensual sexual intercourse accomplished by means of threats, force, or fraud.

“It’s common to think of rape as a sex act committed by means of physical force. But other situations can also lead to rape charges in our state.

“A woman is passed out, drunk. A man has sex with her. That’s rape. A doctor or a psychologist tells a patient that having sex with him or her will cure an illness. That’s rape.”

Rathburn went on to explain clearly and forcefully to a rapt audience that if a cop pulled over a motorist and told the driver there would be no ticket if said motorist agreed to have sex with him, that was rape, too.

“Now, it is commonly believed that only men can commit rape. That’s not true,” said Rathburn. “The defendant in this case is a woman, and she is charged with forcing a man to penetrate her without his consent.”

Rathburn cleared his throat before telling the jury that he had a duty to instruct them on the elements defining penetration, which he would read to them from the California penal code.

The judge pulled his laptop close and read, “Sexual penetration, however slight, of the genital or anal opening of the other person or causing the other person to penetrate the other party’s genital or anal opening—”

The language of the statute was more than one man in the gallery could handle. He laughed sharply, igniting titters from the back of the room. Even one of the jurors grinned before clapping her hands over her mouth.

Rathburn’s face darkened. He slammed down his gavel, the cracks sounding like gunfire and having a similar effect.

“Enough,” Rathburn barked. “Will the court officers show the man in the red tie to the door?”

The man with the red tie and matching complexion sputtered an apology, but Rathburn ignored him. When the disrupter had been marched out and the doors had been closed, the judge addressed the spectators.

“Anyone who cannot sit quietly in this courtroom, who cannot control their emotions, please leave now. Likewise, any members of the jury who are having second thoughts about serving in a case about rape, let me know now.”

Rathburn waited.

The spectators were mute and motionless. The jurors as a body seemed to have stopped breathing.

There was no question in Yuki’s mind that His Honor, Kevin Rathburn, had laid down the law in his court.





CHAPTER 41


JUDGE RATHBURN WAITED out the dense silence, cleared his throat, and, after putting down his gavel, directed his attention back to the sixteen jurors and alternates in the jury box.

He said, “Here’s the crux of the matter. In order to prove that the defendant is guilty of rape, the People must show that Ms. Hill caused Marc Christopher to sexually penetrate her, however slightly, and that Mr. Christopher did not consent to this sexual act. Specifically, the People must show that Ms. Hill accomplished this sexual act by force or violence, duress, or menace.”

Yuki exhaled as Rathburn resumed his explanation of the charges and the responsibilities of the jury. This time no one in courtroom 23 sniggered or even twitched.

“I’m going to define some terms,” Rathburn said.

The judge listed and defined the terms. “If the victim was reasonably afraid that he would be harmed, his consent was not freely given.

“Furthermore,” he said, “if Ms. Hill and Mr. Christopher were intimate previously, that in and of itself does not constitute consent.”

“So what exactly is consent?”

“Consent means that the person acted freely and voluntarily and understood the nature of the act. The People must prove beyond a reasonable doubt that Ms. Hill did not reasonably believe that Mr. Christopher had consented to this sexual act.

“If the People have not met this burden, the jury must find the defendant not guilty.”

Yuki shot a look at James Giftos. In a word, he looked pleased.

Rathburn told the spectators again about proper decorum and then swiveled his seat so that he was directly facing Yuki.

He leaned back in his chair. Springs squeaked, and when he said, “Ms. Castellano. Are the People ready to make their opening statement?,” Yuki felt an adrenaline rush—and she liked it.

“Yes, Your Honor,” she said, “the People are ready.”





CHAPTER 42


YUKI PUSHED BACK her chair and walked around the counsel table to the podium that stood at the midpoint of the well, facing the jury box.

She adjusted the mike attached to the stand, greeted the jurors, and introduced herself and her second chair, Arthur.

Feeling the wind beneath her wingsuit, Yuki took a breath and launched the prosecution’s version of the events that had brought the defendant to trial.

“The defendant, Briana Hill, committed rape,” Yuki said. “She may not look like a rapist, a criminal, but that is exactly what she is.

“The defendant and Marc Christopher both worked at an advertising agency called the Ad Shop. Ms. Hill was head of the TV production department, and Mr. Christopher reported to her. They started dating, going out to dinner once a week for a couple of months and often spending the night together.”

Yuki continued, “On the night of October eleventh the defendant and Mr. Christopher had dinner at a restaurant called Panacea, and afterward they hung out in the bar, talking and drinking. According to the bar tab, which has been preadmitted into evidence, the defendant had three shots of Jameson and Mr. Christopher drank five beers.

“Mr. Christopher will tell you that at about midnight they went back to his apartment, where, if things had progressed according to their habit, they would have had sex and fallen asleep. In the morning the defendant would have gone home to change her clothes, and separately they would have gone to work.

“Now, here’s the critical piece of this incident. The defendant customarily carried a registered Smith and Wesson .38 revolver in her purse for protection. You will see and hear evidence,” Yuki said, “that the defendant had that gun in her possession on the night in question.”

At this point in the trial the jurors were uncommitted to the outcome because they had not heard the story. Yuki had to engage them, inform them, and leave them with an indelible vision of how Marc Christopher had been victimized by the defendant.

Putting a gun on Briana Hill’s person had set the hook.

From here on Yuki would lay out the scene so that the jurors would not just hear but visualize, even feel, what the defendant had done to the victim—how Briana Hill had derailed the trajectory of his life.





CHAPTER 43