Free Trial and Terror by ADAM L PENENBERG Page A

case.”
    “Sidney,” Summer said louder than usual, “you sound positively defensive.”
    “Shhh.” Raines looked around in spy movie fashion. “I just want to make it clear that my office is prosecuting this case by the book. The police discovered some sophisticated surveillance equipment in Harold’s condo. Someone wired up the place real good, someone who knows his stuff, too, judging by the look of it. I’ll have the details messengered to your office.”
    Summer’s heart hopscotched a beat. Now she was whispering. “Are you saying there may be video of Gundy’s murder?”
    “All I know is the house was wired for sound and video, attached to a laptop computer concealed in the floor boards of the loft. We figure it was connected to a remote server, but there’s no way to find out where it’s located or who put it there. The police must have tripped an alarm because access was cut. No fingerprints on the equipment, no audio or video stored on the premises, no clues—”
    “You have no idea who put it there?”
    “I’ve checked with our department and the police.”
    “And?”
    “It’s not ours.”
    “Could it be FBI, CIA, DEA?”
    “Don’t know.”
    “I assume you have the cops chasing down every electronics dealer in town.”
    “You know I can’t comment on an investigation in progress.”
    Summer coughed to stop herself from slapping the smirk off his face. “Beautiful, Sidney.”
    “We’re as anxious to find out who did this as you are,” Raines retorted.
    “Until you do, drop the charges against SK.”
    “Dream on, Summer. It’ll bolster our case, no matter who put it there.”
    Summer wagged a finger. “Only if it’s admissible. Which it won’t be unless you can show where it came from.”
    Raines held the door open for Summer. “If we get access to video that shows SK murdered Gundy, no judge in the county would exclude it.”
    Summer knew he was right. She stepped into the calendar magistrate’s office.
    “But no matter what,” Raines continued, “we’re going murder one, death penalty all the way. We’ll throw in murder two and manslaughter just to round it out. But I guarantee your client’s going to fry.”
    “I thought you ghouls relied on lethal injection these days,” Summer said. “Less messy.”
    Raines rippled his slight shoulders. “I will grant you one favor, though. We’ll skip the resisting arrest and assault charges.” Actually, Raines was only doing himself a favor, since no prosecutor liked to muddle a murder case—and confuse a jury—with a series of lesser charges.
    “Assault?”
    “The bailiff.”
    “Oh, right,” Summer said. “But of course you’d be opening the prosecution up to a charge of brutality.”
    Raines popped a cough drop into his mouth and smiled.
    The calendar magistrate checked a chart behind him and settled on Judge Wesley Kelly, whose docket was empty. Summer and Raines climbed the stairs to his courtroom, where she dropped off the paper work to exclude him with the clerk. All the way there and back, Raines pretended she didn’t exist, didn’t say another word to her.
    The magistrate didn’t seem surprised when they returned. He consulted the chart, then assigned SK’s case to the next available judge: Morton Hightower.
    Raines crunched the last bit of cough drop. “You should have seen this coming, Summer. You sure you’re ready for a murder trial?”

Chapter 10

 
    Summer was having trouble focusing on her work, Rosie’s distant behavior gnawing at her. Office life had never before been like this. From the moment they had met, Summer and Rosie had had a special chemistry. Levi had hired them at the same time, although this wasn’t what forged what Summer had always assumed would be an unshakable bond. It was the older women in the office, graying women in drab pantsuits who had been at the vanguard of the women’s movement—the first women public defenders in the state—who had pushed Summer and Rosie