Chapter 6

"Phone call on line three, Lennie," Bartlett informed him. "It's Brenda Radcliffe from Legal Aid."

"I'm going to go fax our reports to Abbie," Green offered, gathering the forms.

Briscoe nodded as he reached for the phone. "This is Briscoe."

"Sorry I missed your call yesterday, Detective," Radcliffe said. "But I did read the report you faxed over last night. I met with Sara this morning and we talked about it. She's pretty upset that you spoke with her daughter without her permission. She didn't confirm any of the statements made by Sandy Hamilton or anything in the report from the detective at the 34th Precinct on the Fellowship of the Harvest. And she denies that her husband abused her."

"But you can still use the information with the D.A., right?" Briscoe asked. "Even if she won't admit to it, what her husband was doing to her has to have a bearing on what kind of sentence she'll be looking at."

"It doesn't work that way. Unless it comes from Sara or someone who was an eyewitness to the abuse, it's only hearsay. There's nothing I can do with the information."

"My partner is sending a copy of our reports to the D.A.'s office as we speak. They're going to be aware of what we found out."

"The suspicions of a friend and unproven allegations against a religious group the Graysons belonged to are not evidence of abuse. If Sara doesn't admit to it, the D.A. can't and won't take anything you gave them into consideration. Why should they when she's confessed and is willing to take whatever punishment comes as a result? As far as the D.A. is concerned, it's an open and shut case."

"So you're saying that even if her husband was beating her up on a regular basis, and even if there's circumstantial evidence that he was doing so, it won't help her if she doesn't say it's true?"

"That's what I'm saying," Radcliffe agreed.

"Then it's up to you to change her mind," he insisted. "You have to convince her to help herself."

"I've already done everything I can, Detective. We meet with the D.A. this afternoon to work out a plea."

"Everything you can?" Briscoe questioned with growing annoyance. "What's the big rush to send this woman to prison? There's nothing that says you can't ask for more time before meeting with the D.A.! Given a few days to see what prison life is really like, maybe Sara will change her mind. And it will give us more time to find hospital records or other, more concrete, evidence that will back up the abuse accusations."

It was Radcliffe's turn to sound annoyed. "Do you have any idea how many open cases I have on my calendar? Sara Grayson isn't the only person I represent! I don't have the time or inclination to twist her arm and force her to admit to something that she doesn't want to. If she wants to confess to second degree murder and take her chances with the D.A., who am I to argue?"

"You're her lawyer!" Briscoe reminded her angrily. "You're supposed to be looking out for her! It isn't in her best interest to take a plea without explaining all the facts. I know her husband abused her; I'd stake my badge on it!"

"Your word isn't enough! If you want to waste your time and breath trying to convince her to allow me to use spousal abuse as a mitigating factor with the D.A., be my guest! But unless you get Sara to change her mind in the next few hours, my hands are tied. Our meeting with Abbie Carmichael is at 3:30."

Briscoe slammed down the phone. Most of his days were spent trying to make sure criminals received the maximum punishment for their crimes. He was beginning to see that being on the other side of the fence and trying to win someone leniency was no less frustrating.

He was still stewing when Green returned from faxing their reports to the D.A.'s office.

"Uh-oh. You don't look so happy," Green observed.

"Why shouldn't I be happy?" Briscoe asked sarcastically. "Just because someone is about to be railroaded into a second degree murder sentence by the D.A.'s office and a P.D. who can't wait to move on to the next case? Just because the perpetrator is as much a victim as the person she killed? Just because we're responsible for tracking her down and bringing her to 'justice'? It's all in a day's work, right?"

"Hey, I'm on your side. I take it Radcliffe wasn't any help."

"She says she can't do anything unless Sara admits to the abuse herself."

Green grew thoughtful. "Why don't we talk to the daughter again? If we explain the situation to her maybe we can convince her to approach Radcliffe and tell her what she knows since she had to be a direct eyewitness. Alissa might be more open with another woman, and she may also be able to get her mother to admit what Mitchell was doing. Then Radcliffe can use her to back up the claim."

"I don't think we have the time." Briscoe checked his watch. "In exactly two hours and thirty-seven minutes, Sara and her lawyer sit down with the D.A. to work out a plea."

"Why so fast? She was only arraigned yesterday."

"Brenda Radcliffe is why it's so fast! She's trying to set a world's record for the most plea bargain notches on her belt. Sara Grayson is just another name on the docket to her." Briscoe stood up abruptly. "Let's talk to Van Buren about driving out to Riker's. Maybe we can change Sara's mind."

***"Weren't you the one who was ready to lock Sara Grayson up and throw away the key only yesterday?" Van Buren asked after Briscoe had explained their predicament.

"I'm the first to admit that I was wrong," he insisted. "Now that we know the truth, I don't want to see this woman pay with the rest of her life for something that was as much her husband's fault as her own. Granted, she shouldn't have taken matters into her own hands, but it isn't like she didn't have good reason to do so."

"We just got a call from a witness to the hit and run that happened yesterday. All of my other detectives are tied up. I was just getting ready to send you two to talk with him. Let the P.D. handle Sara Grayson's case. If she won't admit the abuse to her own lawyer, what makes you think she'll admit it to you?"

"The P.D. is more interested in a quick deal than in spending five whole minutes with her client," Briscoe argued. "I think we can get Sara to look at the effect that her being locked up for fifteen or twenty to life will have on her kids. She killed Mitchell partly to protect them and she went to a lot of trouble to make sure they were taken care of. Someone has to make her see that being with them is more important than her loyalty to a man who beat her up."

"That's not your job!" Van Buren reminded him adamantly. "You've done your part. It's in someone else's hands now. That's how the system works, Lennie: you track them down and bring them in, and the lawyers take over from there. I need you on the hit and run case."

Briscoe stared at her defiantly for a moment, then shrugged complacently. "Okay. We'll get on it right after lunch."

Van Buren watched suspiciously as Green follow his partner from her office. Sitting back in her chair, she wondered what Briscoe was up to. He had given in much too abruptly. She knew an hour was hardly enough time to drive out to Riker's Island and back, let alone have a conversation with Grayson. But she them both well enough to know that the two detectives had no intention of dropping the case so easily. She sighed and turned back to her paperwork. Sometimes she wondered why she had ever thought that becoming lieutenant was a good idea.

***As they headed out to the parking lot, Green realized that he had never seen his partner walk quite so fast before. "Why do I get the feeling that we're not on our way to have a nice leisurely lunch?" he asked.

"It won't be the first time that you've eaten a burger while driving," Briscoe acknowledged.

"And I had my heart set on Chinese today. You want to tell me where I'll be driving to?"

Briscoe glanced at the business card he had stopped by his desk to pick up. "Just get in and drive. I'll let you know when we get there."

***Carmichael laid her glasses on top of the depositions she and McCoy had been pouring over for more than an hour. Taking the phone from him, she answered, "Carmichael."

"Abbie, Brenda Radcliffe. Sorry to spring this on you with such short notice, but something has come up and I won't be able to make our 3:30 meeting."

"That's okay. I have more than enough to keep me busy here," she conceded, rubbing the back of her neck.

"I'll call you tomorrow to reschedule. Right now I'm not sure how things are going to go."

"All right. I'll be in and out for most of the day, so if I'm not here leave a message with the receptionist."

As she passed the phone back to McCoy she said, "I don't have to leave to go out to Riker's after all. Maybe we can actually get through all of this today."

"What happened to your plea agreement meeting?" he asked as he replaced the receiver.

"Brenda Radcliffe cancelled. She said she'll call to reschedule tomorrow."

McCoy shook his head in amusement. "Bargain Basement Brenda. What case are you working on with her?"

Carmichael picked up her glasses and put them back on. "I'll tell you later, when we meet with Nora. If we don't keep at these depositions we're going to be here until 8:00 tonight - again. Today's a running day. I'd like to get out of here at a decent hour."