Free Capitol Offense by William Bernhardt

acted in an objectively unreasonable manner to prevail.”
    Dennis looked at him squarely. “The man directly caused the death of my wife by failing to act in a reasonable manner, Mr. Kincaid. If he had initiated an investigation, she would’ve been found in three hours. Instead, she suffered for seven days. And died.”
    “Okay. Civil suit.” Ben averted his eyes. “I’ll get right on it.”
    “You seem to have this all worked out,” Christina interrupted. “Did you go to law school?”
    “No, but I’ve read a lot of John Grisham novels.”
    “Oh. Well then, you can’t lose.”
    Dennis folded his arms. “Forgive me for saying so, Mrs. Kincaid—”
    “Ms. McCall.”
    “—but you seem somewhat hostile toward me. Have I done something to offend?”
    Ben hoped she’d able to resist giving the obvious answer.
    “No,” she said instead. “But you do seem … preternaturally prepared to contribute to your defense.”
    “Is it wrong for me to participate in my defense? I thought that was my constitutional right.”
    “It is, but—”
    “Let me save you some time, Ms. McCall. I did not kill that man. But I know there’s some stiff evidence against me, so I think temporary insanity is my best shot. I don’t plan to go to prison, whether you believe me or not. So if you think the desire to avoid incarceration makes me look guilty, we may have a problem.”
    “It’s not that,” Christina replied. “But since we’re being blunt—your cold, level-headed logic is not what I would expect from someone who has just been accused of murder. And is innocent.”
    Ben suddenly wished this cell were not so pathetically small. There was nowhere to go—not even a way to make the fighters return to their corners.
    “And is that what’s most important to you, Ms. McCall? Knowing that I’m innocent? Because you would never stoop to representing someone who might be guilty?”
    “I wouldn’t say that exactly.”
    “Or perhaps what you’re really concerned about is your firm’s reputation. Particularly the reputation of your husband, who I understand is currently mounting a reelection campaign. Are you really concerned about my innocence, or that the negative ‘presumed guilty’ attitude of the self-righteous might tarnish your favorite senator’s chances?”
    Christina did not answer.
    Dennis stepped closer to her, a solemn expression on his face. “Sentz killed my wife, Ms. McCall. He left her to die. Slowly. Painfully. That’s what you should keep uppermost in your mind.”
    He gathered a stack of notes together and passed them to Ben. “Now go set up the press conference. Please. Then get me bail. These coveralls are starting to chafe.”
     
     
     

7
     
     
    The courthouse elevator doors opened and there they were: the stalwart minions of the fourth estate. Dozens of them, more than could possibly be native to the state of Oklahoma. Which was a bad sign. It meant that this case had already attracted national attention, which was the last thing they needed.
    Ben took Dennis—freshly decked out in a new suit, haircut, and shave—and led him down the gauntlet of reporters. He wondered how long the world could go on calling them investigative reporters when so few of them did any investigating. He saw a few old-timers who still worked with pen and paper, but for the most part, they were faces he recognized from television: broadcasters, news readers, people who held microphones in front of cameras and repeated what they had been told, possibly lining up video clips from talking heads to spice up a story that went longer than twenty seconds. They were repeaters, not reporters.
    “I think the press conference worked,” Dennis muttered under his breath. “They’re very interested in me.”
    “Shhh,” Ben whispered. “Say nothing. And never assume they like you.”
    “They’re not all hacks.”
    “Of course not, but they are all employed by large corporations that like to make money. They’re