Free Political Suicide by Michael Palmer Page A

seventies, could intimidate as equally on the squash court as he could in the courtroom.
    “Sarah, I see that Dr. McHugh is still in jail.”
    “The DA is certain he’s the man. They don’t want this to turn into a circus.”
    “He’s been a good citizen. Any chance we could get him out?”
    “He was having an affair with the victim’s wife, and he was on the scene intoxicated at around the time the murder took place.”
    “Point taken. How is your defense shaping up?”
    Sarah took another drink of lemon water. “Until we turn something else up, we’re going directly after the evidence,” she said.
    Heather Goddard, the only female partner, made a disapproving sound. “I’ve read your brief, and that seems like a risky play to me,” she said.
    Sarah loved Heather’s thinking, and did not feel at all on the defensive by having her question the strategy. The partners of Devlin and Rodgers were sharp and ethical, and they understood the critical nuances of the law. They also knew that in cases like McHugh’s, their job was not to judge a client’s guilt or innocence but, rather, to cast enough reasonable doubt to win an acquittal. When called upon, they functioned as a team to mount the best defense possible. If Heather had any concern, it was Sarah’s job to address it.
    “The evidence builds a circumstantial case at best. Without a murder weapon, I don’t see any risk in attacking it,” Sarah said. “But that’s not to say I don’t share your concern, Heather, which is why it’s not my only strategy.”
    Sarah was pleased to see Heather smile. Next to Devlin, she was the partner Sarah most wanted to impress. Five years before, Heather’s husband of twenty-six years had unexpectedly died in his sleep. Two years after that, following the death of Sarah’s husband, David, Heather became one of her closest confidantes.
    “What else do you have in mind?” Heather asked now.
    “It goes without saying that politicians make enemies, especially ones with the longevity on Capitol Hill that Elias Colston had. I’ve got an investigator checking around to see whose feathers he might have ruffled over the years.
    Gordon Rodgers, the most senior partner after Devlin, appeared pleased by the plan. “Do you think a jury would buy that?” he asked.
    “Without the murder weapon, anything is possible. The surveillance tape shows Dr. McHugh parking on the drive and leaving his car. But the cameras aren’t positioned to show him actually entering the garage or even going around the house. The next time we see him, he is more or less stumbling back to his car. Then he drives away. The crime scene people are fixing the time of death between eleven and two. That window would include Dr. McHugh, but it leaves room for someone else as well.”
    “Someone else?”
    “It’s a bit of a long shot, but I think we have an opportunity to focus some attention on Jeannine Colston.”
    “I thought she had an alibi—some sort of meeting.”
    “It was a meeting of congressional spouses. Quite a large meeting, in fact. It featured a buffet brunch. People milling around, then eventually sitting down. From what we can tell, she hasn’t produced any specific witness saying she was there throughout the time window when her husband was killed. It’s likely the police were so sure of themselves with Dr. McHugh that they never even asked her for an alibi, let alone someone to support it. All we have to do is create doubt. The longer we wait to ask her to produce an alibi witness, the less chance someone will be willing to swear under oath that Jeannine was at the meeting during the ME’s window.”
    “Nice.”
    “So you’re going to propose that Jeannine Colston shot and killed her husband before McHugh arrived at the property, and then left for the meeting in the Capitol?”
    “Or after. Dr. McHugh was in a blackout. All bets are off. She could have been there and hid from him. Try this: Dr. McHugh shows up intoxicated.