Perfect Grave

Chapter Thirty-Two

C ooper’s call for a lawyer took it all to the next level.

Grace alerted Lynn Mann at the King County Prosecuting Attorney’s office. Lynn called the Office of the Public Defender on the fourth floor of the Walthew Building.

The OPD scrolled through its network of public defense agencies contracted to provide legal services. Most had conflicts, so the staff sped through the list of assigned attorneys. Next up for a felony: Barbara North, a criminal defense lawyer with Acheson, Kwang, and Myer.

The call caught her on her cell, driving from court to her son’s soccer game.

“The nun murder?” Barbara repeated into her phone while at a red light. It had started raining and she switched on her wipers. “Sorry, I didn’t get that? He’s an indigent street person? Lives under I-5. You mean the guy in today’s paper?” She scrawled notes, willing the light to stay red. “Sure. I’ll take it but I have to make a few calls. Tell Lynn I’ll meet her and Detective Garner at Homicide just as soon as I can get there.”

The rain would cancel soccer.

Barbara called her older sister, Mary, and asked her to pick up her son. He wouldn’t complain about hanging out at his aunt Mary’s. She was a better cook.

“Could be a sleepover, Mary.”

“Catch a big case?”

“The biggest.”

As Barbara drove, she probed her briefcase for today’s Mirror. It took four red lights to absorb every detail on the Cooper story. She was a quick-thinking Harvard grad whose passion for law had not waned, despite the disillusioning realities of everyday jurisprudence. She’d handled a number of homicide cases, domestics, drug murders, but never one that had played out on the front pages.

Within forty-five minutes, Barbara found herself in a secured room, contending with the smells of fried chicken, potatoes, Italian salad dressing, and Cooper. As he ate behind the bars of a holding cell, she worked at the small table asking him questions, writing notes on a yellow legal pad, consulting copies of files, reports, and statements she’d requested from Lynn and the Seattle PD.

“So, do you think they’re going to charge me with something?”

“We’ll know soon enough. Just try to take it easy.”

Barbara left the room to meet with the detectives, their sergeant, and Lynn Mann, a deputy prosecuting attorney. Lynn was a veteran of DOP, King County’s homicide response team. Lynn was beautiful. She also had fifteen years’ more experience than Barbara.

“Here it is,” Lynn said. “Your client has a troubled history, with a few violent incidents. He has been known to argue with the victim in front of witnesses at the shelter. Your client had access to the murder weapon, a knife from the shelter. Your client is in possession of shoes consistent with impressions found in the victim’s blood and at the location where the weapon was recovered.”

“But you haven’t charged him,” Barbara said. “You don’t have a time line and anyone putting him at the scene.”

“We’ve got a compelling case going,” Perelli said.

“What you have is reaction to public pressure.” Barbara tapped her pad with the point of her pen.

“He’s had access to the knife and he’s grappling with psychological anguish,” Grace said.

“Which is the case with about half of the hundreds of regulars who go to that shelter. Your case is so circumstantial as to be nonexistent.”

“At his encampment,” Boulder said, “we found other knives consistent with knives belonging to sets at the shelter.”

“Circumstantial,” Barbara said reaching for the Mirror. “Look, Mr. Cooper’s indicated that he witnessed a stranger at the shelter arguing with the victim and stealing a knife. Did you even pursue this avenue of investigation?”

“Isn’t it funny,” Perelli said, “how people with such critical information go to the press first, to put it out there, before coming to us? That’s what guilty people do.”

“Detective, my client pushes a shopping cart through the streets of this city and lives under a freeway.”

“That doesn’t make him stupid and it doesn’t rule him out,” Perelli said.

“Dom,” Grace said, “Barbara, we have pursued that avenue and have already eliminated a number of potential suspects.”

“The shoes are damning,” Lynn said.

“The shoes are state-issued only by DOC. As I understand, my client has no criminal record. He’s never been arrested. He’s never served time. And you are all well aware that all state-issued clothing is marked with an offender’s DOC number. I believe with shoes, it’s inside the instep of the right shoe.”

“That mark has been removed, carved out,” Perelli said.

“My point exactly. My client states the shoes were dropped off near where he stays, which means anyone could have had access to them. The fact that you didn’t need a warrant to seize establishes that his ‘residence’ is actually public property.” Barbara reached for the file on the shoes. “Did you contact DOC and see if shoes this size have been reported missing? You know all state-issued clothing must be turned in before offenders are released?”

“We have,” Perelli said. “They’re checking. Still, doesn’t mean Cooper didn’t pick them up somewhere.”

“Exactly. Virtually all of Cooper’s possessions have been previously owned by other people. Again, the man lives on the street, on public property. So how can you tie these shoes to him, beyond all reasonable doubt? How can you connect him to this crime in any way?”

Grace took stock of the others.

“There are ways. And we can get started on them if your client will cooperate.”

Barbara experienced a twinge of unease.

“What ways?”