Naked Justice

Chapter 19

MIKE MORELLI RACED TO finish his paperwork. He had reports to complete pertaining to the still-unsolved murder of the homeless man, plus he needed to get the Barrett murder report finished while it was still reasonably fresh on his mind. He knew that his report would be closely scrutinized by judges and reporters, and worst of all, by lawyers, and it would probably end up as Prosecution Exhibit One, so it had better be done right.

The city council had finally allocated funds for the purchase of computers for the Tulsa police department, and Mike now had one on his desk. He had never used one before and probably wouldn’t have started if Chief Blackwell hadn’t complained about the time Mike wasted battering out reports on typewriters. So Mike had agreed to give the computer a try. So far, his work was taking about four times as long to complete. Last night, he had inadvertently deleted an entire day’s work. Why didn’t they tell you up front that you had to save before you could turn off the computer? With a typewriter, when you were done, you were done.

Mike had resorted to reading the manual, the last refuge of the desperate. He found it far from illuminating; indeed, he began to wonder if it was perhaps written in some foreign language, Urdu maybe, and was not intended to be understood by outsiders.

Finally he slammed the manual shut. This was simply not going to work. He’d finish the reports in crayon if he had to.

A flutter of activity in the doorway caught his eye. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

Detective Prescott smiled a smarmy smile. “Just wanted to see how your report is coming along.”

“Get out of my face before—”

Jack Bullock strolled into the office a step behind Prescott. “Good afternoon, Lieutenant Morelli.”

“Are you two traveling together now?”

“Does that bother you?”

“I would’ve thought you had better things to do at the moment.”

Not waiting for an invitation that would not have been forthcoming, Bullock flopped down into one of Mike’s chairs. “Doing what?”

“Well, for starters, taking care of the Barrett prosecution.”

“Ah, but that’s exactly why I’m here.” He steepled his fingers in front of his face and peered through them. “To make sure you don’t screw it up.”

“If you have a complaint about my work, take it to Chief Blackwell.”

“Oh, believe me, I already have. But even he can’t influence what you write in your report.”

An unhappy smile thinned Mike’s lips. “Is that why you’re here?”

“In part.”

“You’ll get a copy of my report at the same time as everyone else.”

“That’s not good enough.”

Mike felt the steam inside rising. He gritted his teeth. “In case you’ve forgotten, Mr. Prosecutor, I don’t work for you.”

“Cut the macho cop crap,” Prescott said, intervening between the two of them. “Bullock’s trying to help you.”

Mike fixed Prescott with his glare. “You put him up to this, didn’t you, Prescott? You’re trying to cover your ass.”

“We’re trying to cover everyone’s ass,” Bullock said, “because everyone’s ass is going to be on the line if this Barrett prosecution goes sour. Including yours.”

“Being a bit melodramatic, aren’t you?”

“Not at all. The eyes of the world are on us, Morelli. Did you realize this story is being tracked on CNN? Fact. Did you know Court TV has been granted gavel-to-gavel coverage rights? Fact. If we live to be a hundred, we’ll never see another case with this high a profile. So naturally, the city council is very concerned that everything goes right.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning that the great city of Tulsa, and its government employees, not come off looking bad.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning we’ve got to get a conviction, you stupid son of a bitch,” Prescott interrupted. “Meaning we’ve got to lock this sorry bastard up and throw away the fucking key.”

Mike calmly placed a toothpick in his mouth. “That’s what I thought it meant.”

“So you can see where we might be concerned about your report,” Bullock continued. “We don’t want anything in it to impede the prosecution.”

“I am not going to lie in my report,” Mike said firmly.

“I’m not asking you to lie,” Bullock replied. “I am an officer of the court, after all. At the same time, there’s no reason to include unnecessary details that might impair our case.”

“Like the fact that Prescott totally screwed up the crime scene?”

Prescott’s fists clenched. “That’s not true, you—”

“It is true!” Mike snapped back. “You did the most half-assed job of controlling a crime scene I’ve seen in my entire career. You went in assuming you already had the culprit, so it didn’t matter whether you preserved the evidence. That was a stupid, stupid mistake.”

“Gentlemen, please.” Bullock raised his hands. “Everyone in this room knows that mistakes were made. Why on earth do we need to parade that fact before the media and the defense?”

“I am a member of this police force, Bullock. My job is putting bad guys behind bars. It’s what I do. What makes you think I would do anything that would hurt the prosecution?”

Bullock paused. “Detective Prescott saw Ben Kincaid coming out of your office earlier today.”

Mike glared at Prescott. “Are you spying on me now, you sorry excuse for a—”

“It was purely a coincidence, I’m sure,” Bullock cut in. “Just in the right place at the right time. But it does raise some disturbing questions. Why on earth would our investigating homicide detective be chatting with the lawyer for the defense?”

So that was it, Mike thought. Now this whole charade was starting to make sense to him. “He came to me because you’ve been so damn uncooperative.”

“I consider that part of my job.”

“Well, it isn’t. You’re legally obligated to provide all potentially exculpatory evidence to the defense. You’re required to identify your witnesses and exhibits in advance of trial. When you screw around and lie and hide the ball, you cheapen all of us.”

“Very stirring speech,” Bullock replied curtly. “But unfortunately, it only reinforces my suspicion that, for whatever perverse reason, you may be sympathizing with the defense.”

“Well, you’re wrong,” Mike said defiantly. “I know the law and I follow it. That’s all there is to it.”

“I disagree. This raises some serious ethical issues. After all, he’s the lawyer for the defense, and you’re a lead witness for the prosecution.”

“Witness? When did I become a witness?”

“You’re the investigating officer at the scene, Lieutenant. I need you to explain to the jury”—he gave emphasis to each word—“that everything at the crime scene was done exactly as it should have been done.”

“Like hell!”

“Look, I’m aware that you and Kincaid have some history.”

“I believe you and he have a little history, too,” Mike snapped back.

“That has nothing to do with this.”

“Doesn’t it? Isn’t that part of the reason you’re so determined to win this case?”

“You’re barking up the wrong tree, Lieutenant. I’m trying to preserve the reputation of this city. I’m trying to make it a safe place to live, to raise children. These petty motivations you suggest have nothing to do with it.”

“I’ll just bet.”

Bullock rose slowly out of his chair. “Lieutenant Morelli, you may not work for me directly, but the police department is answerable to the district attorney’s office. I expect your full cooperation on this matter.”

“You’ll have it,” Mike answered. “To the full letter of the law.”

“I’ll have it, period.” Bullock replied. “Do you understand me?”

“I understand what you’re saying, yes.”

“If I come to believe for one moment that you are not giving me your complete cooperation, I will see that your employment with this city is terminated immediately.”

“You don’t have the power.”

“How much power do you think I need?” He leaned across the desk till he was practically nose to nose with Mike. “Chief Blackwell is already considering sacking you.”

“That’s not true.”

“The city council is considering the wisdom of your continued employment, too,” Prescott added. “They have some grave concerns about your conduct.”

“Thanks to you, no doubt, you weasel. I haven’t done anything improper—”

“Chief Blackwell disagrees,” Bullock said.

“What?”

“Chief Blackwell was not at all amused by your little on-camera diatribe at the crime scene,” Bullock said. “Cursing and screaming at a fellow officer. While the cameras were rolling, no less.”

Mike felt his lips run dry. “They ran that? But—”

“They did not run it, thank God. But a copy was supplied to Chief Blackwell. He was very unhappy about it.”

A light slowly dawned in Mike’s brain. “You’re trying to blackmail me into being your toady on this case. To cover up the truth.”

“You can call it whatever you like, Lieutenant. Either you play ball with me or you’ll be playing ball in the streets.” He turned and headed for the door. “And if I see you anywhere near Kincaid before this case is over, you’ll be fired on the spot. Come on, Prescott.”

Prescott headed out the door, but not without first giving Mike his best so there look.

“Get out of my office,” Mike growled.

“So long, Morelli,” Prescott said, smiling. “I’ll be watching you.”