Death of the Ayn Rand Scholar by Gray Cavender (red scrolls of magic TXT) 📗

against hers,” he said, pointing at Jillian. “A classic ‘he said/she said.’ And my client is the one who’s injured.”

“Ah, but we have the weapon,” Wes said, calmly. “Bagged and being tested for prints AND DNA. As we speak.”

When Professor Roberts and his lawyer were quiet, Wes looked at Professor Roberts and asked, “What’s the matter, Professor, Demerol got your tongue?”

Even through the pain meds, through his obvious nervousness, Jillian saw Roberts’ intensity; the guy was wound tight.

The courtroom was crowded at the bail hearing the next day. By that time, the press had all of the details, and the room was thick with reporters. Outside, TV trucks with satellite dishes on top lined 5th Street in front of the Tempe PD building. There was even a Sky 5 helicopter hovering…over near Sun Devil Stadium.

When the hearing commenced, Roberts’ lawyer argued for a reduced bail. “Your Honor, my client is an established professor at Arizona State University. He has a stellar record in ASU’s College of Business. Moreover, he has strong ties to the community. Professor Roberts poses no risk of flight, Your Honor, and is his release on bail poses ABSOLUTELY no threat to the community.”

Diane Ashby countered, “The state asks the Court to consider the severity of the charges against Roberts AND the brutality of Professor Nelda Siemens’ murder. Someone who would commit such a violent crime most certainly poses a danger to the community, Your Honor.”

“The murder was, indeed, a brutal one, Your Honor, but my client did not commit that act. He is an innocent man.”

The presiding judge sifted through the file, then asked, “And what about the charge of an aggravated assault against a police officer?”

Diane was ready…she pounced. “May it please the court, I’d like to ask Detective Sergeant Jillian Warne to stand. She was the arresting officer, Your Honor. I know the court is familiar with her outstanding record, first with the Tempe Police Department and now with the ASU Campus Police Department. Further, I’d like to show the court a photograph of a weapon that is being tested for DNA as we speak.”

Roberts’ lawyer retorted, “It’s a screwdriver, Your Honor.”

“When Professor Roberts attempted to stab Detective Sergeant Warne with this screwdriver, it became a weapon, Your Honor.” Diane looked at the judge, not opposing counsel.

Acting on Diane’s request, Angel had taken a photo of the screwdriver. To convey its actual size, she had positioned the screwdriver next to a 12-inch ruler…the handle of the screwdriver was aligned with the 0 mark on the ruler. The screwdriver extended four inches beyond the end of the ruler. Angel had enlarged the photo so that it was the size of a small poster.

Her glasses low on her nose, the judge looked at the photo/poster for several seconds. She glanced up over her glasses at Professor Roberts and then to Jillian who had remained standing at the prosecutor’s table. The judge looked back at the photo/poster of the screwdriver and the ruler.

Then, “Bail is set at two million dollars.”

The lawyer tried to protest, walking the fine line between aggressiveness and deference. When he stopped, the judge inquired, “And the state’s position?”

Diane looked first at Professor Roberts and then at back to the judge. “Your Honor, an initial analysis conducted by forensics unit of the Tempe Police Department has confirmed…” she paused…”the fingerprints on this weapon that was wielded in a murderous attempt on the life of Detective Sergeant Jillian Warne, who was carrying out her official duties…” she paused again, “belong to Professor David Roberts.” She pointed at Roberts and drew an imaginary line with her finger from him to the photo/poster that the judge was still holding.

“Bail is set at two million,’ the judge reiterated, and gaveled the proceedings to a close.

Later that day, Professor Roberts made bail, and the slow process of justice began.

Four months later, Wes called. Jillian was back at ASU PD working several cases, and, as planned, Wes had partnered with Georgia Robson, and they were busy, too. Wes called because as a part of a plea deal, Roberts had agreed to talk with them. ASU had terminated his employment so he was no longer a professor…just David Roberts.

Jillian caught the Jupiter on Apache diagonally across from the ASU PD building and rode over to Tempe PD. As the bus drove through campus, she thought about the case and about the long weeks and now months since it all began. She thought about the arraignment, now almost three months ago.

She and Wes had attended the arraignment where Roberts had entered a ‘not guilty’ plea through his lawyer. Jillian had assumed that his arm would have been better by then, but he still wore a sling and appeared to favor the injury during the hearing.

Wes leaned over and whispered, “He’s body glossing.” When Jillian looked confused, he said, ”It’s like in football when the punter collapses in a heap if he’s even brushed by the defense…trying to draw a ‘roughing the kicker’ penalty. Roberts is shooting for sympathy. Wonder if he’ll still be wearing the sling when he comes up for trial?”

Jillian dismounted the bus and met Wes at the employee entrance. He drove them to Phoenix. The trial court was in Phoenix as was the Maricopa County Jail, where Roberts was being held pending his remand to the Arizona State Penitentiary at Florence.

As Wes drove, Jillian asked, “Why’s he finally talking?”

“Diane pressured him to talk as a part of the plea deal…she knew that we wanted to know.”

“I guess I’m still a little surprised that this didn’t go to trial.”

“Yeah, well…I think it was the evidence. First, Angel worked that paperweight and built a slight fingerprint smudge. It wasn’t much—no DNA from it—but still, it was enough to narrow the range of possible matches, you know, percentage wise.”

“I remember…that took her a while. It was great that she was able to do that.”

“That’s Angel working her magic. Still, if that had been all that Diane had, I’ll bet Roberts would have