'What else did they do?' She knew only the TV basics of police procedure. The law according to Steven Bochco.
'Fingerprinted me. Took a hair and skin sample. They took pictures of me, in my suit, and of my hands. There's a cut on my hand from the knife. They took twelve pictures of it, I think. They took my clothes, because they had blood on them. They scraped samples of my wife's blood off my hands and clothes.'
Mary was appalled, but hid it. Even a short legal career had perfected her false face. 'You had your wife's blood on you?'
'Yes.' He glanced away, and Mary noticed that when he looked up, he didn't meet her eye. 'Also they wrote up a statement, but I didn't sign it.'
Mary's pen paused over the paper. 'I don't understand. You confessed, but you didn't sign the statement?'
'Yes, and I asked to call a lawyer.'
'Why confess, then call a lawyer?'
'I changed my mind. All of a sudden, I wasn't sure I should confess. I realized maybe I couldn't represent myself. I had thought I could handle it, being a lawyer myself, at Tribe.'
'You're a lawyer at Tribe?' she asked, shocked. Tribe amp; Wright was law-firm royalty, almost as pretentious as Stalling amp; Webb, where she and Judy used to work. Jack Newlin had to be very smart, so why had he acted so stupidly? And violently? It didn't square.
'Yes, I head the estates department. After I told the police what had happened, they started asking me questions and I realized I was out of my depth. I wanted to talk to a criminal lawyer before I signed the confession. I figured I could plead guilty, and with a criminal lawyer, I could get the best deal.'
'Why did you talk to the police at all? As a lawyer, you had to know not to.'
'I was emotional, I was all over the place, but I'm not expecting miracles from you. I don't expect you to get me off. As I said, I'm fully prepared to plead guilty.' His tone remained calm and even commanding, but his eyes seemed uneasy to Mary. His jaw clenched and unclenched, suggesting buried emotion.
'Mr Newlin, Jack, I see why you want to plea bargain. They'll have a ton of evidence against you. But it's kind of premature to talk about pleading anything now.'
'Why?'
Mary didn't know. It seemed like common sense. 'It's common sense. I'm not sure what kind of deal we can get you at this point. First, you confessed, and they have the videotape, so your bargaining power is already low. Secondly, you have a preliminary hearing coming up, which is where they have to prove they have enough evidence to hold you.' She was remembering from her bar review course. Had the Constitution been amended when she wasn't looking? 'Why should we try to bargain before then? In the meantime, we can do our own investigation.'
'Your investigation?'
'We always do our own investigation for the defense.' At least they had on Steere and Connolly, Mary's universe of experience with murder cases.
'But I told you what happened.'
'We have to learn about the evidence against you.' For verification, Mary glanced at Judy, who smiled yes. 'We have to understand the prosecution's case against you with regard to degree and possible penalties. We need a colorable defense to threaten them with. We can't bargain from weakness.'
'Hear me, Mary. I want this over with now.' Jack's mouth set in a firm line, and Mary frowned in confusion.
'But it's not usually the defendant who benefits from a rush to judgment, it's the Commonwealth. Rushing hasn't helped you so far. If you had called us before you talked to the police, you wouldn't be in this predicament, We're talking about a possible death penalty, do you realize that?'
He seemed to gloss over the statement. 'I want it over with because I want my family affected as little as possible. I have a daughter, Paige, a sixteen-year-old who's a model. She's still got a career if this blows over quickly and quietly. She doesn't even know that her mother is dead. In fact, I'd like you to go to Paige's apartment and tell her. I don't want her to hear it from TV or the police.'
'Her apartment? She doesn't live at home?'
'No. Paige has her own place. Her condo is right in Society Hill, it's not far.' Jack rattled off an address that Mary jotted down. 'Please go after we're finished here. Can you imagine hearing the news from the police?'
Mary met his gaze again, and his eyes focused intently, suddenly lucid with concern. Could someone who had killed his wife worry this much about their daughter? It
was confounding. 'You want me to tell your daughter? I'm not sure what to say.'
'Tell her everything. Tell her the truth. Tell her what I told you tonight.'
'I can't do that. What you told us is privileged.'
'Not as against her. I waive the privilege as against her.'
'You can't.' Mary double-checked with Judy, who was already shaking her head no. 'It wouldn't be in your best interest. What if they called her as a witness at your trial?'
'What trial? I'm going to plead guilty.'
Damn. 'You can't be sure you'll plead guilty and we have to preserve your options. That's why I won't tell your daughter any more than necessary. I'll tell her that her mother is dead and that her father is being held by the police.'
'But I want Paige to know that I'm owning up to what I did. I want her to know that as awful as I am, at least I'm not so cowardly as to avoid responsibility for my crime.' His strong jaw set solidly, but Mary noticed that small muscle near his ear was clenching again. Eyes and jaws, what did it mean? Anything? Nothing?
'Fine, I'll tell her that you're considering a guilty plea, but that's it. The cops will probably leak that much by tomorrow morning. Agreed?'
'Agreed. Also, I have to ask you a personal favor, if I may.' Jack looked plainly uncomfortable, which disarmed Mary. A handsome, wealthy killer who acted like a nice guy. Confusing, to say the least.
'Sure, what?'
'Paige will be very upset about this news. If she is, would you stay with her awhile? She doesn't have many friends.'
'Yes,' Mary answered, though it went without saying. But something didn't jibe. A pretty, rich girl, without friends? What was up with this family? 'What about her classmates? Where does she go to school?'
'Paige is not your typical sixteen-year-old. She looks adult, acts adult, and earns money like an adult. She's privately schooled around her work schedule. She left most of her peer group behind a long time ago, and her boyfriend, at least this latest one, isn't much help. Just stay with her until she feels better and see if she wants to come see me. I'd love to see her tonight and try to explain this to her.'
'I'll tell her that, too.' Mary couldn't imagine the daughter wanting to see her father in these circumstances. She stood up and packed her pad and pen away. 'I think we're finished here, for now. The next step for you is an arraignment, which is when they charge you formally and make a bail determination. I would guess they'll do that in the morning, but there's a chance that it could happen tonight.' She glanced at Judy, who nodded. 'Judy will stay at the Roundhouse until I get back, in case they do. Do you have any questions?' Mary stood up with her packed briefcase, and Jack smiled, which had the effect of making her feel like a grade school kid, her briefcase transformed into a school bag.
'No questions at all. You did pretty well,' he said, and she laughed, flushing, as she led Judy to the door.
'Beginner's luck. See you in the morning.'
Take care of Paige,' he said, and the slight crack in his voice made Mary pause.
'Don't worry,' she heard herself say, without understanding why.
5
When a homicide as big as Honor Newlin's happens in a city as small as Philadelphia, everybody knows about it right away. Emergency dispatch hears first, then homicide detectives, EMS drivers, reporters tuned to police scanners, the M.E., the crime labs, and the deputy police commissioners. Simultaneously the mayor, the police commissioner, and the district attorney get beeped, and the district attorney assigns the case as soon as the call comes in. The assignment, as crucial as it is, doesn't take much thought, because the result is preordained. In death, as in life, everybody has a pecking order; when a nobody gets killed, the case gets assigned to any one of a number of bright young district attorneys, all smart as hell and fungibly ambitious. But the murder of a woman the status of Honor Newlin, by a lawyer the status of Jack Newlin, could go to only one district attorney.