Author:
McRose - the writing team of highplainswoman and janlaw
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Date Posted: 15:50:05 04/07/07 Sat
In reply to:
McRose
's message, "Doppelgänger" on 19:52:35 04/06/07 Fri
Doppelgänger - Chapter One/12
The planned posting schedule after today is Sunday, Wednesday, and Friday. There are 12 chapters plus an Epilogue.
Warning: A few “bad” words.
A/N: As “Second Wind” ended, in November 2006, Harm, Mac, and their daughter Mackenzie O’Hara Rabb (‘Mahara’ – born May 2006 in London) arrived in San Diego. Mac is about to take command of the JLSO; Bud will be her XO. Harm will report to NCIS’ Regional HQ, providing training on investigative techniques and legal issues to new agents and junior judge advocates. LT Vukovic transferred to the JLSO summer 2005. His behavior has been similar to what he exhibited at JAG HQ February – April 2005. He will be assigned TAD from the JLSO to NCIS for six months. He will either learn to investigate and try cases properly or he will be administratively separated from the Naval Service. In the as-yet-unwritten sequel to Second Wind, he takes Harm’s tutelage to heart. Readers who abhor Vuk may wish to re-read A/N # 3 in the Prologue before deciding to invest their time in the story!
Thursday, March 22, 2007, 8 PM
District Attorney’s Office
Indianapolis, IN
James “Jimmy” Conlon loved his new job – most of the time. Actually, nearly all of the time. But tonight, with an-almost-rock-solid-case disintegrating like a glass splintering into bits – his job was a major migraine-level headache. A really major headache. Over the past twelve trial days, Annabeth and Mo had methodically laid out the State’s case in chief – carefully building the evidentiary structure – like a house under construction - for the jury to see, hear, taste and feel. The gruesome scenes of the last summer’s carjacking/murder/kidnapping/rape and strangulation, the September parking garage scene – almost surreal as the missing vehicle was revealed under the car cover and horrified residents realized it had been there all summer, even as what seemed like every inch of the city, county and state were searched; the horror and anguish when the silver Mercedes’ trunk was opened, the forensics, the methodical investigation, tying the evidence to the perp – Juice O’Malley – everything fit and the jury was buying it. This was an important high-profile case; the local, state and national media had been all over it. James Conlon wanted this one; he needed this one. As much as he wanted justice for Tatiania and Rina Olevenowski, as much as he wanted vindication for his team’s painstaking preparation, he knew that the publicity from a win could propel him to the state office – and beyond - which he’d spent over twenty years preparing for.
The defense was weak and clearly floundering. Until – early this afternoon – the alibi witness: a clean cut Navy Petty Officer, calmly detailing a high school friendship with Juice O’Malley, keeping in touch sporadically, getting together while on leave to drink brews, shoot pool and play poker. His leave, he said, was from June 30th – July 5th. The crimes took place July 2nd. The jury could do the math.
FLASHBACK
The prosecution sat stunned into speechlessness. It was, Annabeth thought absently, a tableau worthy of a televised legal drama. The defense attorney was standing straight, bathed in the sunlight coming through the window as if to highlight the “rightness” of his particular cause, while the look of astonishment and shock on Mo’s face probably reflected her own. You could, she thought, hear a pin drop in the courtroom.
“So, Petty Officer Morrison, your testimony is that my client, ‘Juice’ O’Malley, couldn’t have been the carjacker/killer last July 2nd because you were with him playing poker and shooting pool all that day and night?”
“Objection. Leading.” The objection came automatically from Annabeth and Mo’s mouths, almost in tandem.
“Just summarizing, your Honor,” defense counsel tried not to gloat. ‘Gotcha!’
His Honor leaned forward intently. “Re-phrase, counselor,” he admonished.
Eventually permitted to answer, the young man in the witness chair, resplendent in his “crackerjacks,” gulped audibly, refused to look at anybody, and nodded his head. He jumped, and then leaned forward to the microphone just as the judge leaned over to remind him he needed to verbalize his response. “Uh-h-h, yes, sir.”
With a smug look, the defense counsel glanced at Annabeth and Mo and sat down with an almost off-hand remark to the air,
“No further questions, your honor. Your witness, counselors.”
END OF FLASHBACK
Saved by …not the bell, but a juror’s upset stomach. Juror No. 9 had thrown up his lunch all over the back of juror No. 3’s long blond hair and cashmere blazer. A half hour recess turned into an hour, and finally the Honorable Thomas Leonard had recessed for the weekend, having previously advised counsel that he had a Friday appointment that could not be changed.
The good news: time to dig for evidence to rebut the alibi. The bad news: the jury would have 3 ½ days to ponder a military poster-perfect live alibi witness against 12 days’ scientific and forensic evidence. Rushing from the courtroom, Annabeth and Mo pushed through the throng of reporters and huddled with the police detectives and Ed and Ray. They’d worked this case for months, lived this case, and were adamant - there’d been no hint, not a scintilla – of any alibi.
*******
Dividing the calls to be made, the research to be done, the back-tracking necessary, the team had scattered. Rubbing his forehead, James decided to get going himself. What to make for supper? Trying to decide between fettuccine with shrimp sautéed in garlic or mussels marinara, the knock on his door failed to register.
“Mr. Conlon?” …More insistently, “Mr. Conlon?”
The lovely contralto finally intruding into his consciousness, James raised his throbbing head, “Yes? Everyone is gone, may I help…….”
“Chi? Chi?” The face that had haunted his dreams for nearly twenty years stared back at his dazed face and anguished voice. “You’re dead, I know you’re dead, so I know it’s not you….”
“Mr. Conlon.” The woman’s voice was firm, crisp. “LT Dani McKinnen, I.P.D. Detectives Shirley Thompson and Bruce Winters have been working with Ms. Chase and Ms. Scofield. We think we’ve got something.”
Jimmy turned away, fighting the urge to cry, to scream. Of course this woman police lieutenant wasn’t Chiara. Chi had been dead for nearly twenty years, killed two weeks before their law school graduation. Best friends since the day they’d met in 1L’s Con Law class, they’d shared a study cubicle, class notes, a “bazillion” gallons of coffee, studied together, groused together, laughed together, and most of all, shared their hopes and dreams. For Chi, the Navy was deep in her family’s history. A Calitri had been in the Navy since it’s founding, her grandfather had served as the Judge Advocate General, both her parents had been JAG Corps officers; she was determined to be the first female Judge Advocate General. Commissioned in the Law Student Program her first year in law school, Chi had always held back from anything beyond friendship. Planning a stint in public service followed by public office, Jimmy had never voiced his feelings for her, knowing they would go in separate directions after graduation. He just hadn’t expected their parting to be by death. Chi had been killed instantly when she’d walked into a Java Bean for coffee at 4 am and interrupted a robbery by jittery meth-crazed teens who’d opened fire as the door opened. She’d been on her way to pick him up – Monday, Wednesday and Friday they swam 50 laps before meeting their co-ed basketball teammates for practice. He’d never swam a lap since that day.
“Lieutenant. Please excuse me. You ….you reminded me of someone…..just for a minute.” Forcing himself to stand and greet the two detectives, he explained, “Annabeth and Mo just left. What do you have?”
“A lying scumbag Sailor is what we have.” Dani and her team hadn’t worked this case for eight months to see it lost on perjured testimony. “This lying sack of shit wasn’t anywhere near Indianapolis the day Tatiania was murdered and Rina was kidnapped, raped and strangled. He was on his ship umpteen thousand miles away in the Persian Gulf!”
“And we know this because?”
End Chapter One
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