Kate, Scott and Levy had pens at the ready, hovering over their legal pads which had the name of the firm embossed at the top of their pages in gold lettering.
I folded my arms, sniffed and waited. Without moving his head, Dreyer’s eyes slotted to the left, locking onto me. While the others had their heads down, ready to write, I kept eye contact with Dreyer. Anything I could do to unnerve a prosecutor was mandatory in my playbook. It didn’t seem to work. Dreyer looked right back at me like he was holding aces and he knew I had a pair of eights.
‘Trial will be in January. We have most of the evidence and we have motive. You already have basic discovery, which I hope to complete soon. All I’m waiting for are full reports from forensics and a witness statement from the deceased’s lawyer, Mr. Modine. I’m already in possession of the preliminary forensic results. You’ll get the full reports in time, but the short version is I have forensic evidence linking both of your clients to the murder. And only your clients.’
‘What do you mean by only our clients?’ said Kate.
Soon as she’d said it, Levy tutted, and Kate looked down at her legal pad, swallowed. Levy didn’t appreciate his staff speaking up in a meeting with a prosecutor. I thought it was a fair question. One that instantly came to my mind. Kate had good instincts. I liked her. With Levy, it didn’t matter that she had asked a good question, it was the mere fact that she had the audacity to open her mouth at all.
‘Well, Miss Brooks, I would ask that any questions you have you keep to the end of the meeting, but I’ll take this one now since you’ve asked,’ said Dreyer, not looking at Kate. Instead he looked at Levy as if to acknowledge Levy’s seniority. ‘Your clients were both arrested in the property. No one else inside. The medical examiner puts the time of death around the same time as the 911 calls. We’re not looking for any other suspects – forensics link your clients not only to the scene, but the murder.’
Kate wrote down the answer, and lowered her shoulders to the desk, as if to appear as small as possible. She mouthed a ‘sorry’ to Levy who rolled his eyes and put his index finger to his lips. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t worth the time and energy; if I worked for Levy I would have put my fist through those fat lips a long time ago.
I thought about this new information and how it fit with Sofia’s story. Frank’s house was practically a mansion. Lots of rooms over three tall floors. It’s entirely possible Sofia and Alexandra could both be in the house at the same time and be unaware of each other’s presence.
‘One, or both, of your clients murdered the victim. In that case, considering the forensics and the prosecution witnesses, this will be a joint trial. There’s an overlap in all of the evidence,’ said Dreyer.
A joint trial in a case like this is a prosecutor’s wet dream. With two defendants blaming each other, it’s likely the jury believes neither of them and both will get convicted. If one of them pulls off a miracle and manages to persuade a jury they’re innocent, the other defendant takes the hit. It guarantees the prosecutor a win – no matter what.
Levy shot first.
‘There’s no chance in hell you’re getting a joint trial. When one defendant is implicating the other, the criminal code and case law dictates we split the trials. Mr. Flynn doesn’t have to call his client to testify, and if he chooses not to then it’s a violation of my client’s constitutional right to face her accuser. It’s unfair. It’s a no to a split trial – right off the bat. Is that clear?’ asked Levy.
If he was rattled by this, Dreyer didn’t show it.
He pulled at the cuffs of his shirt again, making sure they protruded from the bottom of his jacket sleeves, before picking up his pen and noting down Levy’s objection.
‘The fact is we would need to run almost two identical prosecution cases against your clients, and that puts unnecessary financial strain on the city. It will be a joint trial. I am pushing very hard for this.’
‘Pushing who?’ I said.
Levy didn’t mind me asking a question, in fact he nodded along. We waited for the answer. It never came.
‘Mr. Flynn, Mr. Levy, if either of you want to split the trial you’ll need to apply to the court with the proper motion. We will resist that motion. That’s all I’ll say on that matter. I want to get to the substance of this meeting if you don’t mind.’
He looked at both sides of the table. Levy and his team were quiet, I leaned forward ready to listen.
‘Thank you. The District Attorney’s office recognizes that your clients are both blaming each other for the murder. We feel that a joint trial will result in at least one conviction. It will be open to the jury to convict both defendants and you don’t need me to tell you that a joint conviction is the most likely verdict. I’m offering a one-time deal. Twelve years in exchange for a full confession and a statement implicating the co-defendant. If one of the sisters confesses, they walk out of jail in six years, maybe four, with good behavior, while the other will be there for life. This is a one-time deal, available to only one of the defendants. This offer is on the table for forty-eight hours, starting now.’
And people wonder why ordinary citizens plead guilty to crimes they didn’t commit. Dreyer had called it pretty well. It was likely both women would be convicted in a joint trial. The odds of one of them winning was very small when both would call each other liars and murderers. Most juries in joint trials don’t believe either defendant, and convict both. In that situation, it made sense to take a plea – do four years instead of a life sentence.
Neither Levy nor I spoke. I watched Dreyer pinch the sides of his watch, and it took me a second to realize he was actually setting a timer. For real. Both Levy and I had a professional obligation to take this offer to our clients. Let them make the decision. I didn’t want Sofia under that kind of pressure, not this early, but it looked like I didn’t have a choice.
‘If neither defendant pleads guilty, confesses and assists in the prosecution of the co-defendant, then we go to trial. There will be no more offers and no extensions. Forty-eight hours. If there’s no confession, and we’re going to a joint trial, then I expect both of your clients to take a polygraph test.’
‘What?’ said Levy.
‘You heard me.’
‘Polygraph results are not admissible evidence in this state,’ I said.
‘The old methods of polygraph testing were not admissible. Technology has moved on. Polygraphs are admissible evidence in eighteen states now. We’re pretty sure we can prove our examiner’s expertise in New York. As it stands, they are recognized as an important investigative tool for law enforcement. So much in this case comes down to the credibility of your clients. Who will the jury believe? One or neither of them? We will inform the court that a polygraph was offered and if it is refused we’ll exploit that refusal. The judge can refer to it in his summing up to the jury.’
I’d underestimated Dreyer. That was damn smart. A real chess move. If one sister refused the polygraph, it made her look guilty. If both refused it, then it would appear as if both were in on the murder together. If one passed the polygraph, and one failed, then Dreyer could use it to convict the sister who failed it.
I put my hand in my inside jacket pocket while I watched Levy’s face turn purple. He looked how I felt. Except I didn’t show it. I kept my cards tight and close. A murder trial required the ultimate poker face. Levy was talking so loud and so fast at Dreyer that spittle catapulted from his lips and landed in small white clouds on the desk. I put my elbows on my knees, and beneath the table, out of sight of Dreyer and Alexandra’s defense team, I opened Levy’s wallet and began going through it. I’d lifted it when I bumped into him. I genuinely didn’t mean to collide with him that hard. My pocket dip was executed clumsily and if I hadn’t tipped him off balance he would’ve felt the move. As it was, he hadn’t noticed a thing. I’d meant to grab his phone, but I felt it vibrate just as I put my fingers close. No way to lift a vibrating phone without him feeling it. His wallet would have to do.