Revealed: The Missing Years
Page 65
Originally, he assumed that Emily and John would be sequestered from the courtroom. However, during the negotiations, the US government decided to concentrate on the murder charges and dropped the attempted murder of John, Emily, and Claire. Their reasoning was that although John and Emily were locked in the room, the intent to harm was difficult to prove. There was no evidence verifying that Catherine had been the one who placed the poison-laced water bottles in the suite. While Catherine admitted to starting the fire in her own fireplace, the spread of the fire was deemed accidental. There was no longer a reason why either of the Vandersols would be called to testify. Therefore, sequestering was no longer a concern. John applied for special dispensation: after all, Catherine was accused of killing Emily’s parents as well as her grandfather. It was granted and they were now able to attend each and every day of the trial.
Their conversation came to a halt as Catherine was led into the courtroom. Quickly assessing her, Brent saw that she’d lost weight in prison and allowed her hair to go gray. The end result was that she appeared older and frailer. She definitely appeared older than her true fifty-three years. Brent wondered about Tony’s rule and how well Catherine had learned it. Appearances were of the utmost importance. From his eye, Catherine appeared to be more a frail grandmother, than a serial murderer. He hoped it wouldn’t work.
When it came to evidence, Claire’s computer had been destroyed in Catherine’s fireplace. Nevertheless, she’d saved all the paper documents. All of her research connecting Tony to his past had been confiscated by the Iowa City police in 2013 after her disappearance, and labeled as evidence. As the Simmonses and Vandersols listened, the US Attorney used that information to spin a well-fabricated web for the jury. If Brent hadn’t known it to be true, he would have questioned its veracity. For small-town America, it was a thriller! The story began with a young girl who’d been abandoned by her family. By the time the prosecution was done, he’d set the stage for the most fantastic game of vengeance and revenge that Brent had ever heard. Unfortunately, the story wasn’t a novel, and it wasn’t fiction. Innocent lives had been lost and others destroyed in the name of this twisted vendetta.
His statement had gone on for over two and a half hours. Throughout, Brent watched the jury. Not once did they seem bored or disinterested. As a rule of thumb, the opening statement should be short and concise. Brent glanced at John and raised his brows. It was an unspoken question, attorney to attorney. What did you think? John shrugged. Brent prayed that it was a hit out of the park. After everyone who’d suffered, he wanted the frail woman at the front table to die a lonely death in a lonely cell. It wasn’t a nice wish, but it was the one he harbored.
Not far from the courthouse was a popular diner. As long as the judicial system stayed in business, the restaurant was assured a good lunch crowd. It was frequented by judges, lawyers, staff, and the public. In essence, the entire room was filled with ears. Truthfully, it wasn’t only the law and lay people who were listening. As the two couples made their way to lunch between the morning and afternoon sessions, they were witness to reporters. Even though it was only the first day in front of a jury, the reporters were hungry for news. It seemed as though the granting of a gag order did nothing more than whet their appetite.
Over the last year, especially with John’s employment at Rawlings, the two couples had become closer. If Brent had to pinpoint one reason, he’d say it was because Courtney was determined that she was going to be part of Nichol’s life. Thus far, access to Claire had been adamantly denied, but Courtney had been given the ground rules. “If you ever are to see her, you may not mention him—at all.” Without a blink of her eye, Courtney agreed.
As much as the Vandersols and Simmonses wanted to discuss the morning’s opening statement, they tried to keep the conversation away from the proceedings. There were ears at every turn. If any one of them was deemed responsible for leaking information, they’d be banned from the remaining trial. None of them wanted that: the morning had only been the beginning.
As they finished their lunch, John asked, “Would you two like to come over for dinner? I think Emily and I would both like to discuss some of this background information.”
Emily nodded, adding under her breath, “Claire had mentioned some of this years ago, but it seems pretty farfetched. I hope they can make it believable.”
Brent watched Courtney’s eyes glow at the invitation.
“The prosecutor had me totally enthralled. I had no idea he’d been talking for so long,” Courtney said.
Knowing that his wife was always willing to do whatever it took to get close to Nichol, Brent said, “That sounds good. Give us a little time to stop by home after they wrap up for the day, then we’ll be over. Let us know what we can bring.”
“Ridiculous! Farfetched! Fiction!” Catherine’s attorney began, capitalizing on the US Attorney’s earlier flair for the dramatic. “I hope you’re all ready for a show, because that is exactly what the government wants to give you. Just look at my client. She’s worked her entire life as a servant. Oh, the wealthy have other names… housekeeper, maid, whatever. How many of you have someone who picks up after you, manages your household, and assures that your dinner is on the table? Catherine London has done that for three generations of the same family. She has worked and worked.” He lowered his voice. “She has witnessed things that no one should witness. But yet, she didn’t betray her employer. No—not until he did it first…”
Their conversation came to a halt as Catherine was led into the courtroom. Quickly assessing her, Brent saw that she’d lost weight in prison and allowed her hair to go gray. The end result was that she appeared older and frailer. She definitely appeared older than her true fifty-three years. Brent wondered about Tony’s rule and how well Catherine had learned it. Appearances were of the utmost importance. From his eye, Catherine appeared to be more a frail grandmother, than a serial murderer. He hoped it wouldn’t work.
When it came to evidence, Claire’s computer had been destroyed in Catherine’s fireplace. Nevertheless, she’d saved all the paper documents. All of her research connecting Tony to his past had been confiscated by the Iowa City police in 2013 after her disappearance, and labeled as evidence. As the Simmonses and Vandersols listened, the US Attorney used that information to spin a well-fabricated web for the jury. If Brent hadn’t known it to be true, he would have questioned its veracity. For small-town America, it was a thriller! The story began with a young girl who’d been abandoned by her family. By the time the prosecution was done, he’d set the stage for the most fantastic game of vengeance and revenge that Brent had ever heard. Unfortunately, the story wasn’t a novel, and it wasn’t fiction. Innocent lives had been lost and others destroyed in the name of this twisted vendetta.
His statement had gone on for over two and a half hours. Throughout, Brent watched the jury. Not once did they seem bored or disinterested. As a rule of thumb, the opening statement should be short and concise. Brent glanced at John and raised his brows. It was an unspoken question, attorney to attorney. What did you think? John shrugged. Brent prayed that it was a hit out of the park. After everyone who’d suffered, he wanted the frail woman at the front table to die a lonely death in a lonely cell. It wasn’t a nice wish, but it was the one he harbored.
Not far from the courthouse was a popular diner. As long as the judicial system stayed in business, the restaurant was assured a good lunch crowd. It was frequented by judges, lawyers, staff, and the public. In essence, the entire room was filled with ears. Truthfully, it wasn’t only the law and lay people who were listening. As the two couples made their way to lunch between the morning and afternoon sessions, they were witness to reporters. Even though it was only the first day in front of a jury, the reporters were hungry for news. It seemed as though the granting of a gag order did nothing more than whet their appetite.
Over the last year, especially with John’s employment at Rawlings, the two couples had become closer. If Brent had to pinpoint one reason, he’d say it was because Courtney was determined that she was going to be part of Nichol’s life. Thus far, access to Claire had been adamantly denied, but Courtney had been given the ground rules. “If you ever are to see her, you may not mention him—at all.” Without a blink of her eye, Courtney agreed.
As much as the Vandersols and Simmonses wanted to discuss the morning’s opening statement, they tried to keep the conversation away from the proceedings. There were ears at every turn. If any one of them was deemed responsible for leaking information, they’d be banned from the remaining trial. None of them wanted that: the morning had only been the beginning.
As they finished their lunch, John asked, “Would you two like to come over for dinner? I think Emily and I would both like to discuss some of this background information.”
Emily nodded, adding under her breath, “Claire had mentioned some of this years ago, but it seems pretty farfetched. I hope they can make it believable.”
Brent watched Courtney’s eyes glow at the invitation.
“The prosecutor had me totally enthralled. I had no idea he’d been talking for so long,” Courtney said.
Knowing that his wife was always willing to do whatever it took to get close to Nichol, Brent said, “That sounds good. Give us a little time to stop by home after they wrap up for the day, then we’ll be over. Let us know what we can bring.”
“Ridiculous! Farfetched! Fiction!” Catherine’s attorney began, capitalizing on the US Attorney’s earlier flair for the dramatic. “I hope you’re all ready for a show, because that is exactly what the government wants to give you. Just look at my client. She’s worked her entire life as a servant. Oh, the wealthy have other names… housekeeper, maid, whatever. How many of you have someone who picks up after you, manages your household, and assures that your dinner is on the table? Catherine London has done that for three generations of the same family. She has worked and worked.” He lowered his voice. “She has witnessed things that no one should witness. But yet, she didn’t betray her employer. No—not until he did it first…”
