A dozen rows in front of them, the judge sat high on her bench. She polished off some paperwork, then looked down and around, apparently for Evan Burke, the man who had created a big stir in the media.
Judge Valencourt addressed Burke, but he was in his head, far away, and his attorney called his name, bumped the wheelchair with his knee.
Burke snapped to and answered the judge’s question.
“Not guilty, Your Honor. This is a farce. A setup. The police know damned well that I didn’t shoot that girl on purpose. My door was kicked in—”
“ADA Mintner?”
Lanning had gone against Tiffany Mintner before. She was smart and one of Masci’s favorite ADAs.
She said, “Your Honor, Mr. Burke is a danger to the community. He is charged with the murder of an unarmed woman, and shooting at police officers. We intend to present those law-enforcement officers as witnesses at trial. Mr. Burke is also a flight risk and has evaded arrest in Nevada, California, and Oregon. Shall I go on?”
“I think that’s enough, counselor.”
“Mr. Lanning?”
“My client was shot by the police without warning. The victim’s death was an accidental shooting. Mr. Burke has a home just outside Las Vegas and I recommend house arrest and police guard if necessary.”
“Ms. Mintner ? Bail?”
“No way, Your Honor. The best option for both the population and the defendant himself would be to remand him to the court and hold him for trial.”
“So be it. Bail is denied. The defendant is remanded.”
As Evan Burke was rolled out of the courtroom, he said to his attorney, “I want to make a deal.”
“What kind of deal?”
“I have a lot to offer in exchange for a guilty plea that would bypass a trial.”
Lanning wheeled the chair up to the elevator. The doors slid open and two people got out. Lanning held the door, and when Burke and his equipment were inside he pressed the Down button.
Lanning said, “Take some time to think about it, Evan. We should discuss what you have as leverage.”
“Mr. Lanning. Randall. I might as well be in hell. Chained to the bed. Bedpans and needles.”
“It’s a hospital, for Christ’s sake. You’re sick.”
“It’s a hospital in hell.”
He coughed all the way out to the street, and once he’d been transferred into the ambulance an EMT gave him oxygen. Still angry, Burke pounded on the ambulance window with his good hand until a sedative kicked in and he had to stop.
Lanning was going to have to find a way to manage his client or Evan Burke would be dead in the water.
Chapter 113
I’d overslept for once and the squad room was fairly quiet when I got there.
I wanted to talk with Conklin, Alvarez, Brady, but they were all out on a new case, a hostage situation involving a tender age child.
A new idea sparked.
Finding the last cardboard tray in the break room, I stuck three coffee containers into the holes, poured the java, and capped the cups. I then gathered up some fixings and took the elevator up to the sixth floor. I stared up at the lights behind the numbers and used the time to gather myself for what I hoped would be a useful meeting with Lucas Burke.
Sergeant Bubbleen Waters was behind the duty desk. I handed her a coffee.
“Oooh. Irish cream. Thanks, Lindsay.”
I smiled. From our very first shared shift at the station, we’d liked each other instantly.
“I’m not above bribing a pal,” I said. “Think I could have a few minutes with Lucas Burke?”
“Cheer him up, will ya? I can give you the cage until a lawyer wants it.”
Five minutes later, Burke and I were in the attorney-lawyer meeting room. I tried to gauge his mood. He didn’t look like the same man I’d met at Sunset Park Prep so many months ago. I offered him fresh brewed black coffee with an array of packets and little cream cups.
He drank it black and kept drinking until he had made it clear that I was going to have to speak first.
“I saw your father a couple days ago.”
“Spare me. I’m going to be sentenced to life in prison and will do my best to forget I ever knew him. I’m going to invent a fictional family and he’s not in it. Or maybe just bash my head against the cinder blocks. One clean hit should do it.”
I moved past that image.
I said, “You know what happened with him? He was in a basement hotel room with a girl who was screaming for help. I kicked in the door and he shot his date through the back of her head.”
“Interesting,” he said, but he wasn’t interested at all.
“I put a couple of shots in your father’s shoulder.”
“That was the best you could do?”
“Under the circumstances.”
“So why tell me?”
He had gulped down the coffee. Getting some pleasure, I guess. I pushed mine over to him.
I said, “This has a lot of sugar. I drink it sweet.”
“Fine. I’ll take it. Did he tell you why he killed my wife, child, and girlfriend?”
“Nope. He’s still saying that you did it.”
Lucas got up and grabbed the bars of the cage with his cuffed hands.
“Guard! Guard!”
Still holding the bars, he turned to me, and said, “It wasn’t me. I don’t care what you believe. I was found guilty. I’m going to be sentenced in a week or so. I’ll be put in protective housing for the next fifty years. At this point, I don’t care what happens to me. I didn’t kill anyone.”
The guard arrived.
“Take me back to my cell.”
Lucas Burke didn’t say good-bye. He just walked out of the cage between the guards, the shackles around his ankles clanking as he rounded the bend.
I cleaned up the coffee remnants and tried to get a grip on my own feelings. I hadn’t liked Lucas Burke, and I’d believed I had good reason not to. But
