Slow Kill - Michael Mcgarrity [99]
“I’ll expect to hear from you directly,” she said with a brief, fleeting smile.
“Of course,” Warren replied, waiting for an out-pouring of relief. None came.
He watched as the guard took her away. Something about the woman was dark, unfathomable, and fascinating, like the ancient maps that marked uncharted waters with the warning HERE BE MONSTERS.
The image of Claudia Spalding, cool and aloof in her jail jumpsuit, stayed with Jefferson Warren as he climbed the courthouse steps in San Luis Obispo on a Friday afternoon and walked through the stylized pediment entrance into the dark hallway.
Outside the judge’s chambers, the DA, a pompous man with a wide, horseshoe bald spot that covered most of his freckled skull, intercepted him at the door.
“You’re wasting my time if you’re planning to ask the judge to reconsider granting bail,” he said smugly.
Warren smiled down at the portly DA, smoothed his silk tie against his cream-colored shirt, buttoned his jacket, and opened the door. “I’m sure you know the judge’s mind far better than I ever will.”
They found the presiding judge, Truett Frye, in his chambers watching the early evening news on a small portable color television. Frye clicked off the televison and stood, unwinding his lanky six-five frame as the two men approached his desk.
“This better be worth my time, Mr. Warren,” he said. “I should have been home an hour ago.”
“It’s really quite simple, your honor,” Warren said. “The alleged murder of Clifford Spalding did not occur within your jurisdiction.”
“He died here,” the DA interjected.
“Granted,” Warren replied. “But the legal definition of homicide requires a willful, deliberate, and premeditated act. According to the arrest affidavit and supporting documents, no such act occurred within San Luis Obispo County in the state of California.”
The DA snorted in disbelief. “For a two-month period, Clifford Spalding took medication that was prepared and deliberately given to him by his wife and her lover expressly to cause his death. It doesn’t matter where it all started; they were killing him slowly, here, in New Mexico, and wherever else he might have been during that time.”
Frye looked at Warren. “Your rebuttal, counselor?”
“There is nothing in the statute that speaks to how long it takes a victim to die, or where he dies, Your Honor. Suppose a man is shot but survives long enough to drive himself to a hospital across the county line, or even into a neighboring state. In what jurisdiction should the killer be held accountable for the act?”
“Where the act took place,” Frye said, swinging his attention to the DA.
“Think of the altered medication Clifford Spalding was given as a poison, Judge,” the DA said. “He took it every day, as prescribed by his doctor, which means he was poisoned in California.”
“Can you prove that?” Warren asked.
“The autopsy blood work confirms it,” the DA said.
Warren shook his head. “It only confirms that Spalding ingested the substance, not where he took it. Therefore, arguably, the murder occurred in New Mexico, where my client allegedly acted with specific intent to cause the death of her husband, time and place notwithstanding.”
“We have a confession from Spalding’s lover,” the DA said, “that fully implicates her.”
“And proves my point,” Warren noted.
Frye gave the DA a cold stare. “Who signed the warrant and affidavit?”
The DA named the judge.
He held out his hand. “Let me see them.”
The DA passed the documents to Frye, who put on his glasses, paged through them, and then looked at Warren.
“I see your point, Mr. Warren,” he said, “but I don’t see what good it will do your client. The DA can drop his charges and continue to hold Mrs. Spalding in custody on the New Mexico warrant.”
“There is no New Mexico arrest warrant, Your Honor,” Warren said.
“Is that so?” Frye asked the