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While waiting for Judge Foster to come out to the bench, Marc spun his chair around to look at the gallery. He found Philo Anson seated in the front row but on the aisle seat this time.

“I brought you some company,” Marc told Philo.

“I see that. I think he’s trying to push me out,” Philo said.

The person Philo referred to was Tony Carvelli. Carvelli was the one next to Philo and was enjoying squeezing him. Two seats away from Carvelli was Maddy. In between her and Carvelli was a very attractive, short-haired, brown eyed brunette.

Her name was Paxton O’Rourke and she was an assistant United States Attorney from Chicago. Until recently she had been Carvelli’s long distance girlfriend. Paxton had foolishly been briefly involved with another man. He was a married federal district court judge and a man ten years older than Carvelli. Paxton was twelve years younger than Carvelli. It was an awkward situation, especially when Paxton discovered she was not an exclusive mistress and the judge’s wife found out about both of them. A reconciliation was still in the beginning stage between Paxton and Carvelli.

Judge Foster began the Monday morning session with a reminder of court decorum. Toward the end of the state’s case, the gallery attendance had dwindled a bit. This morning, every seat was taken again.

“Ms. Moore, I understand you will give the opening statement for the defense,” Foster said.

Jennifer stood and said, “Yes, your Honor.”

“You may proceed.”

Jennifer walked up to within two feet of the alternates seated in front of the jury box.

“Good morning,” Jennifer began. “In case you may have forgotten, my name is Jennifer Moore. Along with my cocounsel, Marc Kadella… ”

Marc stood, looked at the jurors, nodded and smiled slightly. Robbie, dressed in women’s navy blue slacks and a white blouse, also stood.

“…we proudly represent the accused, Roberta Craig-Powell.

“For those of you who may have wondered, the woman sitting behind our table, is Madeline Rivers. She is a private investigator who works with us.”

Jennifer paused for a moment and looked at three or four men who appeared to be writing down Maddy’s name.

“In the interest of full disclosure, she is also engaged to be married to cocounsel, Marc Kadella.”

Upon hearing that, the men stopped writing.

“You’ve heard and seen the state’s case against the accused, but now it’s our turn. Once again, I will thank you for keeping your word to wait until all of the evidence, until the entire trial has been presented before making your decision.

“We believe we can refute everything that you have been told so far.”

For the next forty minutes, while slowly pacing back and forth, Jennifer led the jury through a briefing of what they were about to hear and see. She listed each witness step-by-step, setting out their case for reasonable doubt. The one that caught their attention the most was the expert who would explain claw hammer scratches and how less than unique they are.

“These are not fingerprints. They are tool marks, caused by removing nails from wood.”

Jennifer concluded by explaining, “Ladies and gentlemen, this is not a TV show where the defense brings in the real killer for the surprise ending. To be honest, we don’t know who committed these horrible crimes. It’s not our job to find the real culprit.”

Here, Jennifer turned and looked at the prosecution’s table. “That’s their job. Our job is to convince you fine people,” she continued pacing to make eye contact with each of them, “that there is reasonable doubt that Robbie Craig is guilty, that you are not fully convinced of Robbie’s guilt and you have a genuine, logical reason for that uncertainty.”

“Objection, argumentative,” Hughes stood and said .

“Overruled.”

“If you keep an open mind, listen to the testimony, you will have a reasonable doubt and find Robbie Craig not guilty. Thank you for your attention and your service as jurors.”

“The defense calls Detective Lucy Compton, your Honor,” Marc called out.

Lucy had known she would be called first. She was seated in the courtroom in front of the rail behind the prosecution’s table.

Foster reminded her she was still under oath when she took the stand.

“Permission to treat the witness as hostile, your Honor,” Marc asked.

“Granted, go ahead.”

Treating her as hostile meant he could ask leading, yes and no questions.

“Welcome back, Detective,” Marc said.

“Thank you,” Lucy replied.

“During your direct exam, you stated, and I’m paraphrasing here a little but I think I have it accurate. Tell me if I don’t.”

“Sure,” Lucy said.

“Part of your testimony you claimed to have done a thorough and professional investigation of this case, is that a fair statement?”

“Yes, it is.”

Marc held up a stack of papers and said, “Detective Compton, I’m holding in my hand copies of over three hundred complaints about Phillip Friedman, victim number three, the psychiatrist who treated Robbie Craig and Dr. Walter Miller victim number four, the surgeon who performed the surgery to turn Robert Craig into Roberta. Did you obtain these during your investigation?”

“I’d have to look at them to know for sure,” Lucy said.

“Fine, may I approach, your Honor?”

“Go ahead,” Foster said.

At the witness stand, Marc handed the copies to her and said, “I’m showing the witness copies of letters the defense received, complaint letters, concerning victims Phillip Friedman and Walter Miller. Go ahead, Detective, look them over.”

By now Lucy had seen enough to know that the police did receive these same letters.

“Yes, we did receive these,” she said and handed them back to Marc.

“Isn’t it true, Detective, that of these three hundred plus complaint letters, there were thirty-one that threatened physical harm, even death, and murder of these two victims?”

“I don’t remember the exact number but thirty-one sounds about right,” Lucy said.

“Of the thirty-one who threatened harm, even death, isn’t it also true that you did not investigate any of them?”

“Well, that’s because…”

“Yes or no, please, Detective,” Marc said.

“Yes, that’s true.”

“Isn’t it also true that you did not investigate any of them because you did not see a connection between all of the victims and any of the threatening letters, even the fifteen that were signed by the complainant, the person who wrote and mailed the letter?”

Thinking that it was odd that Marc would ask a question that seemed to verify their reason for not going after the letter writers, Lucy answered, “Yes, that’s right. We did not find any such connection.”

Her answer was non-responsive, but Marc let it go. Instead, he glanced at the jury box to see their reaction. He saw a few puzzled faces.

“I have nothing further, your Honor,” Marc said.

“Does the prosecution wish to question the witness?” Foster asked.

Raines and Hughes looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders. Neither one of them had figured it out, either.

“No, your Honor,” Hughes replied.

“You may step down,” Foster told Lucy.

As Lucy was walking out, a step before she reached Marc’s table, the light came on in her head.

Oh, shit! she thought then looked at Marc’s poker face. They found someone .

Marc looked up at her from his chair as the corners of his mouth turned up in a faint smile. Lucy was looking at him with her mouth open, then Foster told Marc to call his next witness.

“The defense calls Dr. Michael Curtis, your Honor,” Jennifer said.

The deputy guarding the exit door into the hall opened the door and went out. A moment later, a heavy-set man wearing a gray suit and non-matching and out of style tie came in. He was sworn in and took the stand.

“Please state your full name and occupation,” Foster’s clerk said.

“Michael Alan Clark. I am a clinical psychologist with a PhD from Princeton specializing in children’s psychology with an emphasis on transgender affirmation and its effects.”

A quiet murmur went through the gallery when Curtis announced his specialty.

“Morning, Doctor,” Jennifer began.

“Good morning,” he replied.

After many years with the Hennepin County Attorney’s office, Jennifer could qualify a witness as an expert in her sleep. She took her time, wanting everyone in the courtroom to know this witness knew his business, especially when it came to transgender affirming and the effects on children, minors, no matter how old.

Jennifer spent a half-hour going over his curriculum vitae then submitted it into evidence. After that, she asked Judge Foster to qualify him as an expert. This is done to allow the witness to give a professional opinion on the subject of his profession.

“Objection,” Hughes stood and said.

“Overruled. The man is obviously an expert on pediatric psychology,” an annoyed Judge Foster quickly said.

“Dr. Curtis, how long have you been providing therapy to transgender patients?” Jennifer asked.

“I would say, it began about eight or nine years ago, the number of trans patients has grown to where, for the past three to four years, that’s all I do. My partner also. She is also my wife.”

“Okay, how many patients have you had, best guess?” Jennifer asked .

“Four hundred and twenty-three,” Curtis answered.

“Pretty specific guess,” Jennifer said.

“I figured it would come up so I checked.”

“What percent would you say are minors, children or maybe older teens?”

“Eighty-three percent started receiving therapy after their surgery were minors. Some are still in therapy, even though they are now over twenty-one. Years of therapy to come to grips with what was done to them.”

“What about adults how many transitioned after becoming adults?”

“We have some, seventeen percent or seventy-two. Of those, only a few have been in long term therapy.”

“Of those, the ones who transitioned after reaching adulthood, how many suicides?” Jennifer asked.

“None. All of them have what I would label as uncertainties or doubts. But they seem to adjust much better than minors.”

“What are the types of problems you see among minors?”

“A wide range. Depression, of course, is easily number one. They all suffer from that. Then there is anxiety, fear, and anger is very common. Mostly what they have are symptoms of depression.”

“What is your responsibility, as a therapist, if you believe a patient is a danger to himself or others?”

“Notify the authorities, the police.”

“Ever done that?”

“A few times, yes. Almost every trans patient has thoughts of suicide. A few, very few, gave us cause for concern enough to have the authorities involved.”

“How did those turn out?”

“None of the ones we reported to the authorities harmed themselves or anyone else. We did lose a few of them as patients when they found out we went to the authorities with our concerns.”

“Have any of your trans patients committed suicide?” Jennifer asked the question the entire trial wanted to know.

Curtis hesitated, drew in a deep breath, rolled his eyes upward, exhaled, looked at the jury and sadly said, “Yes. Six. Six young people I professionally failed.”

“What about homicide, Doctor? Do your trans patients talk about that, about killing the people involved with the transitioning?”

“Yes, most of them, in fact. But, so far, I have not believed it was meant by any of them to the point where I thought it necessary to report it. It’s always said in anger and in a sense of frustration. Normally not specific to any one person.”

“To be clear, do you mean none have ever said something like, “I’m going to kill doctor so and so for doing this?”

“Yes, that’s what I mean. They’re hurt more than anything, the trans kids, especially.”

“Have you had opportunity to meet with Robbie Craig, my client?”

“Yes, I’ve spent a total of three hours with her. In addition, I have gone over the medical reports of her surgeon, Dr. Walter Miller and Robbie’s psychiatrist Dr. Phillip Friedman. And I read through her diary.”

“What was your expert opinion of the defendant?”

“Your Honor, this has to stop,” Hughes stood and said.

“Fifteen minutes, I’ll see council in chambers,” Foster banged his gavel and said.

Again, Foster’s court reporter indicated he was ready after everyone was seated.

“Your Honor, he’s trying to put diminished capacity into evidence,” Hughes said.

“Their expert said Robbie did this. We have to rebut that,” Marc replied.

“And he’s putting the entire issue of transition affirmation on trial. It’s irrelevant,” Hughes said.

“He put the trans affirmation into this trial when he made it motive. We have every right to go after it,” Marc said.

“He’s got you on both counts, Mr. Hughes. You did bring trans affirming care into the trial when you made it motive.”

“We did not. We did not specifically say…”

“Then you go stand in front of the jury and tell them you have no motive,” Marc said.

Hughes did not say a word which caused Marc to say, “That’s what I thought. ”

Back in the courtroom, Foster told Curtis he could answer Jennifer’s question. The court reporter read it back.

“I think Robbie Craig is angry, depressed, hurting. A reading of her diary clearly indicates she did not want to do the transition. She tried suicide once but I don’t believe she is still suicidal. Nor is she homicidal.”

“I’m curious, Doctor Curtis, and some of the jurors may be as well. What is your professional, expert opinion of transition affirming care and treatment?” Jennifer asked.

“For adults, I’m not opposed, although I would like to see them get professional counseling before it is done.

“For children, minors under the age of twenty-one, anyone who has anything to do with this mutilation of children, including parents, school officials, doctors, nurses, anyone at all, should do at least ten years of prison time in a hardcore prison. This malicious mutilation of children must stop.”

“Objection . . .” Hughes stood and called out.

“Overruled,” Judge Foster quickly said.

“The defense calls Melissa Myles, your Honor,” Marc stood and announced.

“The state objects your Honor. This witness is one of the police detectives assigned to investigate these homicides. She was subpoenaed in her home late yesterday afternoon. We were given no notice and have no discovery as to what her testimony might be,” Hughes stood and said.

“Mr. Kadella, would you care to respond?”

“She’s on our witness list, your Honor. And we wrote on it that she would testify about the investigation. It’s not like the prosecution doesn’t know of her and who she is. She works for them.”

“Agreed. The objection is overruled. Bring in Detective Myles.”

Marc went through the preliminary questions about Melissa’s job. Moving on, he covered her partnership with Lucy Compton and the investigation of all five murders.

“Your Honor, permission to treat the witness as hostile?” Marc asked .

“Sure, yes, go ahead,” Judge Foster said.

“Detective Myles, you and Detective Compton were both at the home of Priscilla Powell when her body was discovered, weren’t you?”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Okay, let’s try it again. You were called to the scene and were at the house while Mrs. Craig-Powell was still there, her body, correct?”

“Yes, I was.”

“And you started your investigation right away by going through the house looking for evidence, yes or no, please?”

“Yes.”

“And while you did this, my client was seated on a couch in the living room with a woman, Claudia Shepherd, who was Mrs. Craig-Powell’s executive assistant, correct?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“Did the defendant try to impede your investigation in any way?”

“No, I wouldn’t say that.”

“After you had inspected the body and the house, you spoke with my client while she sat on the couch. She asked you a question, she asked you, “Are you sure she was killed? Could it have been a heart attack or something like that?”

“Objection, hearsay,” Hughes said.

“Sustained.”

“Okay, based on just your observation and recollection, did she give you any reason to believe or doubt that she knew, Robbie Craig, knew how her mother died?”

“Yes, I would have to admit she did not.”

“After you inspected the house, you told Robbie, and I’ll try to be as accurate as possible, isn’t it true you told her, the house had been burgled, that’s a certainty. That Robbie had identified missing items and there were markings on the side door where someone used a pry bar to open the door, yes or no, Detective?’

“Yes, I did.”

“Isn’t it true, you told her it was a certainty, that the house had been burgled?”

“Objection asked and answered,” Hughes said.

“It was? I don’t think so,” Marc said .

“In your previous question,” Hughes said.

“I’m sorry, your Honor, I’m confused I don’t believe I used the word certainty. Could the court reporter read back my previous question.”

“Okay,” Foster said with an air of skepticism.

The court reporter read back Marc’s entire question. When he finished, knowing what Marc had done, Hughes’ face had turned a nice shade of red.

“I did use the word certainty when she referred to the burglary and Detective Myles agreed it was a certainty. My apologies, your Honor. I’ll withdraw my most recent question in which I…”

“Don’t say it again, Mr. Kadella,” Judge Foster said.

“One last question. Did you find any of the missing items you were told were stolen?”

“No, we did not.”

“Specifically, did you find any of the missing items when you searched Robbie’s dorm room at St. Catherine’s?”

“No, we did not.”

“Nothing further.”

Having been unprepared, Hughes did his best to rehabilitate the witness. He spent almost a half-hour getting her to explain how and why they came to the conclusion that the burglary was a setup. Did they accomplish it?

“Mr. Kadella, re-cross?” Foster asked.

Marc was able to nail one last point in the burglary theory.

“Isn’t it true that you, and I mean the investigation in its entirety, were not able to find a single piece of evidence to indicate the burglary, as you put it, was a setup? Yes or no, Detective,” Marc asked.

“Yes, that’s true.”

Marc was now free to drive this home during his closing. Was this reasonable doubt? A question the jury would answer.