The Last Alibi

58

Shauna

“Lieutenant Krueger,” says Katie O’Connor, “did you recover any e-mails from Ms. Himmel to the defendant on the date of Tuesday, July thirtieth? The day of her murder?”

“I did. I recovered an e-mail with content and with an attachment.”

The prosecutor puts that e-mail on the board for the jury:

Tuesday, July 30, 9:01 AM

Subj: I REALLY wasn’t kidding

From: “Alexa M. Himmel” ‹AMHimmel@Intercast.com›

To: “Jason Kolarich” ‹Kolarich@TaskerKolarich.com›

Hi, there. Hope you’re well. I’m really concerned about the attached letter getting out. Maybe we can put our heads together and figure out how to prevent it. But if you keep ignoring me then I guess there’s nothing i can do. . .

‹ BAD.Letter.pdf ›

“You said there was an attachment?”

“Yes,” says Krueger. “You can see at the bottom of the printout of the e-mail. A document entitled ‘BAD Letter,’ in portable document format, or PDF as most people know it, was attached to this e-mail.”

“Did you print out a copy of that PDF document?”

“I did.”

“People’s Fourteen,” says O’Connor. “Is People’s Fourteen a true and accurate copy of the document attached to that e-mail?”

“Yes, it is.”

The jury is now looking at the letter Alexa attached to that e-mail:

To: The Board of Attorney Discipline

Subject: Jason Kolarich, Attorney ID # 14719251

I am writing to report an attorney named Jason Kolarich, currently practicing at the law firm of Tasker and Kolarich. Jason has become addicted to a painkiller called oxycodone. It has hampered his ability to practice law, I fear to the detriment of his clients. He has lost a good deal of weight, and his behavior has become erratic. I am not a lawyer, so I don’t know if the drugs have stopped him from defending his clients properly. I don’t know if there are rules governing this, but I thought the state’s board that regulates lawyers should know about this.

More than anything, I think a client, before they hire a lawyer, should know if that lawyer is a drug addict.

I am afraid to sign this letter, but I hope you will look into it.

“Lieutenant, do you know whether this letter was ever sent to the state’s Board of Attorney Discipline?”

“I don’t know one way or the other,” says Krueger. “All I know is that, the following evening, Ms. Himmel was murdered.”

I could object, but I don’t. The jurors wouldn’t notice, anyway. Several of them, while stopping short of nodding enthusiastically or making throat-slashing gestures, indicate the impact this evidence has had on them. Eyebrows go up. Lips part. One of the guys in the front row, having craned forward throughout the showing of the e-mails, falls back in his chair, glances at his neighbor. I can imagine the bubble over his head: Well, our deliberations won’t take long, will they?

I can hardly blame them. It doesn’t get more damning than this. Alexa had become more than just an ex-girlfriend with separation anxiety. Now she was someone who was going to ruin Jason professionally if he didn’t take her back. And roughly twelve hours later, she was shot in the back with Jason’s gun, while standing in Jason’s living room.

At the podium, O’Connor takes her time, flipping through her notes, pretending to locate her next line of questioning when, in fact, she just wants that letter to sit up on the screen for as long as possible.

“Lieutenant, sending an e-mail is one thing. It’s another thing whether the intended recipient of that e-mail actually received it. Did you investigate whether the defendant had, in fact, received or opened these e-mails we’ve discussed?”

“I did. The defendant gave us permission to access his laptop. In addition, we issued subpoenas to review the e-mails sent to and by the defendant on his e-mail account.” Lieutenant Krueger takes the jury through that process. It was a thorny one, involving Judge Bialek, because an attorney’s e-mails include many confidential communications with clients.

“We were able to determine the date and time that each e-mail was opened,” Krueger explains.

It gives Katie O’Connor the chance to put each of these e-mails back up on the screen. She pops up each e-mail and asks Lieutenant Krueger if and when Jason opened that e-mail. People’s Exhibit Seven, the July 27 e-mail at 8:43 P.M., was opened at 9:35 that evening. People’s Eight and Nine, in the early hours of Sunday, July 28, were opened on Jason’s laptop within minutes of each other on Sunday morning. People’s Ten, the How-to-Hurt-Alexa-101 e-mail, was opened an hour after it was sent, just after five P.M. on Sunday, July 28. Blow by blow, Lieutenant Krueger demonstrates that Jason was routinely opening these e-mails.

“People’s Thirteen,” says O’Connor, referring to the final e-mail, the one with the attached letter. “Sent at 9:01 A.M. on Tuesday, July thirtieth. When, if ever, was that document opened on the defendant’s computer?”

“Three minutes after ten that same morning,” he says.

“And People’s Fourteen, the letter to the Board of Attorney Discipline? When, if ever, was that document opened on the defendant’s laptop?”

“Within the same sixty seconds,” he answers. “Ten-oh-three in the morning. Just over an hour after the e-mail and attachment were sent, the defendant opened it up on his laptop.”

O’Connor nods. “After that final e-mail with the attached letter, did you find any further e-mail communications between the defendant and Ms. Himmel, Lieutenant?”

“No, I didn’t,” says Lieutenant Krueger. “It was the last e-mail Ms. Himmel ever sent.”