AFTERMATH

Chapter 2

Frank Tripp studied his friend. "Have you talked to anyone about this?"

Horatio laughed. "Counselling? Don't you know me better than that?"

"Might help…"

"And might not. Frank, I've managed to avoid counselling sessions all my working life, despite Stetler and others pushing me that way. Why should talking about it make any difference? I got careless, I paid the price - case closed."

"I'm not a great fan of it myself. Chewing over something with a stranger…"

"Well then?"

"Just… I know you, Horatio, and you are beating yourself up about it. Just think you might want to talk…" He hesitated. "Doesn't have to be a stranger… I'll listen."

"I appreciate it, Frank, but what is there to say?"

Frank shrugged. "Well, the offer's there."

They drove back to the lab, and Horatio returned to the school trip case. An apparent drowning… No, not 'apparent'… It was a drowning. The autopsy had been done here, by Tom Loman, and the schoolgirl had drowned. But he knew something didn't sit right. Interviews had revealed a well-supervised trip, an obedient pupil who could swim reasonably competently… There had to be more to it. He could tell that such investigations as the team had done had been fairly cursory, although the case was still open. He didn't blame them. It had, it seemed, been a busy three weeks, and they were, after all, a man down - him.

He frowned at the details - the site was well out in the Everglades, but there was just one poor sketch and a couple of not-very-informative photos. He felt mild annoyance, and knew he needed to go out there and see for himself. Well, it would have to be another day. His bodily weakness, and general tiredness from three weeks of illness were catching up with him fast. At only four o'clock, he called it a day, phoned Calleigh, and went home.

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It got slightly easier, but he still put off driving out into the 'glades on his own. His strength was, he found, unpredictable. The last thing he needed was to find he was unfit to drive back. His team was busy, very busy. He wondered, guiltily, if he could ask Frank to accompany him.

The phone rang. It was Calleigh. "I've got Gerald Duffy coming in…"

Gerald Duffy, the senior Florida prosecutor… "What about?"

"Your case. He seems to think there are problems. Half an hour's time… Are you free?"

"Of course." He realised this was awkward for Calleigh. "You know you're still in charge…"

"Nominally, I know. But I wouldn't dream of doing anything on your case without you there."

"I'll be there."

Gerald Duffy was a plump affable man, even a little pompous, at least superficially. Both Horatio and Calleigh had seen him at work too many times not to know how deceptive this impression was. In court, the man would go for the jugular in an instant. He was brilliant at his job and had won many, many cases for them over the years. Horatio was glad to have him on his side.

They shook hands. "Gerry…"

"Horatio… Glad to see you on your feet. You've been through the mill, I understand."

"Just a bit." They sat down. "Calleigh says we've got problems?"

"No more than usual, but a few things we need to talk about. And things you need to consider."

Both CSIs remained silent. Duffy knew his job.

He continued. "We're trying for attempted murder…"

Calleigh murmured. "It was attempted murder."

"Oh, I'm aware he could have died. And his doctor is willing to testify to that. But it comes down to her intent. I grant you that giving a drug meant to knock out horses to a police lieutenant was never going to have happy results, but I'm convinced she did not mean to kill him."

"We went through that," Calleigh said. "The State Attorney said it might not matter. That she was intelligent enough to realise…"

"But now she's pleading insanity. And if they prove that…"

"So you're saying what?" Horatio put in. "It'll be one shrink against another?"

"It will doubtless come down to that. The basic facts aren't in dispute. And, even if they were, all my witnesses are police or doctors. No, I'm trying to prove she knew exactly what she was doing, including the fact that she might do you serious harm. They'll try to prove she's mentally impaired. Probably find childhood abuse or a recently dead grandmother to back it…"

Horatio smiled thinly. "You're a cynical bastard, Gerry."

"Goes with the job."

Calleigh was less sanguine. "Look at him, Gerald! She deserves to go away for a long time!"

"I'm not disputing that, Calleigh. It's about how we achieve it. You know the justice system is a blunt instrument. It needs to be directed."

Horatio put his hand over Calleigh's.

Duffy continued. "Now, the trouble with this scenario is that psycho-babble generally leaves a jury cold. Ultimately, it's likely to come down to whether they like the defendant or prefer the victim." He smiled at their faces. "Don't look surprised. You've been in this game long enough to know how juries behave… however carefully we pick them. Now, the basic problem here is that she's an attractive young woman. You're a senior policeman. And, it pains me to say it, but some of our fine citizens aren't great fans of the police. They sometimes see them as manipulative and self-serving. Even as bullies. Can't imagine why."

"Don't mince your words, Gerry, will you?" Horatio murmured.

"Never do, Horatio, never do. I'm not saying it's right, or just, but there's a possibility they'll side with her. She's got a good counsel too."

"So what can we do?"

"If you want to stick with attempted murder - and I'm quite willing to try - then we have to change their perception of policemen." He smiled at Horatio. "As it's you, it shouldn't be too difficult. Now, if it was someone like… what's your big guy's name… Tripp? Then, more difficult. He looks like a thug. But you, you're going to be relatively easy… And you look absolutely dreadful at the moment, so that will play in our favour."

"What are you suggesting?" There was more than a hint of suspicion in Horatio's voice.

"I'll want to show what she's done to you. That you really are a victim. That you really were nearly killed. I want them to hear how you've suffered - don't worry - your doctor can do the gory bits. I want a list of your triumphs, I want to play you as a hero, protecting Miami with your life. I want 'before' and 'after' pictures of you to let them see just how badly she's hurt you. If they accept you as their hero, brought down by a crazy girl, then we're home and dry."

"I will not be turned into a fucking freak show!" He flushed and glanced at Calleigh. "Sorry, Cal… Gerry, there's got to be another way… All the facts are there."

"I'm giving you my opinion. Play it straight, and the chances are only about fifty-fifty. I like my odds to be better than that. I don't want her wriggling out on an insanity plea. All you've got to do is sit in court looking… about as ill as you do at the moment… and let me sing your praises. Is that so hard?"

"Any alternatives?"

"We cut a deal."