Chapter 4

            It was a madhouse. Photographers and TV and newspaper reporters occupied the steps of the courthouse. Lights flashed and questions were being shouted as Catherine, Phillip Whiting, Cameron, and his parents as they walked up the steps.

            One of the sleazy reporters shouted, “Catherine, how do you think you do with opening arguments under the mental distress of being dumped at the altar?”

            It was everything Catherine could do not to whirl around to correct the low moral sleaze. She wasn’t dumped at the altar. She was dumped the night before the wedding. Not necessarily the day of the wedding at the church. Then she wanted to say screw you for asking. Nevertheless, she had to keep her composure. Catherine was on her client’s time – not her own.

            The reporters and photographers continued to follow them up the stairs until they got to the doors.

            Cameron’s mother exhaled with relief once they were inside. Mrs. Townsend had red hair with streaks of white. Every time Catherine had seen her, her hair had been up in a bun. Today was no exception.

            They began walking down the hall with Catherine and Phillip, her second chair, leading the way.

            “How long do you think the first day will be?” Cameron’s father, Harry Townsend, asked.

            “Not sure. It depends on how long the ADA’s opening statement will be. And how long it will take to question and cross examine the first few witnesses,” Catherine answered.

            They walked into the courtroom.

            There were a few spectators inside already. Catherine didn’t recognize anyone. Catherine and Phillip began unpacking their briefcases for the necessary paperwork for court as the Townsends chatted amongst themselves. Phillip looked pretty sharp today. His ash colored hair was brushed back on the sides and he wore a dark navy suit.

            After a few minutes, two men approached them.

            “Don, Ezekiel,” Cameron said with surprise. “You made it.”

            “We sure did,” the white man said.

“No thanks to that airline,” the black man mumbled.

            “Nevertheless, when a Townsend is in trouble we rally,” Don said proudly. “Aunt Lea Ann and Matt should be here soon,” the white man said.

            “We’ll save them a seat,” Mr. Townsend said. “Damn good to see you boys.”

            Catherine and Phillip watched them all hug each other.

            “Catherine, Phillip, “Cameron began. “These are my cousins Don and Ezekiel Townsend.”

            They shook hands with the attorneys. Catherine couldn’t help but wonder how Ezekiel was a Townsend. He was a black man. If he was of mixed heritage it didn’t show at all. He had a small square shaped afro which framed his up and down like head. Don had dark hair like Cameron and was the same height as Cameron, five foot seven.

            After eight minutes or so, the other Townsend relatives showed up. Lea Ann who was Mr. Townsend’s twin sister and her son, Matt. Lea Ann’s hair was white and gray and short. Matt was about five foot nine with dark brown hair.

            Court was about to begin. They all took their places. Catherine couldn’t have planned the family support any better. She had told Mr. and Mrs. Townsend over a month and a half ago that it was imperative that they showed up to court every day. Not any extended family members. But here they were. It was wonderful.

            Catherine saw the bailiff open the door in the back from the corner of her eye.

Ava Bartholomew waltzed in.

What is she doing here?

Ava caught Catherine’s eye and nodded at her.

Catherine automatically nodded back without thinking.

Ava took a seat on the defense side of the room. She wore a sky-blue skirt suit. Her thick brown hair was up in a tight bun.

Catherine turned around and leaned toward her client. “Are you and Ava Bartholomew friends?”

“No,” Cameron answered simply. “We are acquaintances at best. Why?”

“Because she just arrived. Was she friends with Kelly?”

“Oh no,” Cameron sang in a deep tone. “For whatever reason, Kelly didn’t like her and from what she told me Ava didn’t seem to be that crazy about her either. Kelly had said they had a natural dislike for each other.”

Hmm.

Another bailiff appeared at the side of the room.

“Everyone, we’re about to begin,” Catherine said to the Townsend family.

“All rise!” the bailiff said above the chatter.

Everyone quickly quieted down and those who were standing remained so, along with Cameron, Phillip, and Catherine.

The judge emerged from a side door next to the bailiff.

“Judge Gerald Gehrig presiding,” the bailiff announced.

When the judge got to the bench, he instructed everyone to be seated. “We have Townsend vs the State of New York. Cameron Townsend, you are charged with second degree murder of Kelly Townsend. Do you understand the charges?” When Cameron was first arrested, he was charged with two counts of second-degree murder. But in the state of New York a baby is not considered a person until it takes its first breath. Kelly was only four months pregnant when she had died. The fetus was not considered a person therefore the second murder charge was dropped. Someone had overstepped his – or her bounds when the arrest warrant had been created.

Cameron stood quickly. “I do, your honor.”

“Very well. You may be seated,” the judge said. “Let’s get started with your side of the table, Mr. Quinn.”

Ben Quinn stood along with his second chair. “Benjamin Quinn and Mario Sanchez for the state your honor,” he stated for the record.

Catherine and Phillip stood. “Catherine Van Dyke and Phillip Whiting for the defense, your honor.”

“Thank you,” Judge Gehrig said. “Mr. Quinn, go ahead with your opening argument.”

The defense sat down.

            “Thank you, your honor,” Ben began as he stepped from behind the table.  “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury. We are here today to see Kelly Townsend and her family get justice. We have witnesses who stated that Mr. and Mrs. Townsend marriage had been troubled for eight months before she had died. We even have a witness who Mr. Townsend told personally that he wasn’t sure Mrs. Townsend’s unborn child was his. Mr. Townsend was found holding the victim’s body when the police had arrived. His finger prints are on the murder weapon.  The state is ready, willing, and able to prove that Cameron Townsend murdered his wife in a fit of rage.” Ben Quinn continued with his opening.

            After what seemed like three minutes, Catherine was able to give her opening statement. “Ladies and gentlemen,” she began as she slowly approached the jury box. “Yes. It is true that my client and his wife had hit a rough spot in their marriage. But all marriages hit rough patches now and again. It doesn’t lead to murder. Yes, my client was found holding his beloved wife in his arms, but what the ADA neglected to mention was that my client was sobbing as he cradled her in his arms. Mr. Townsend is devastated by his wife’s and unborn child’s deaths. To add insult to injury, he was charged – wrongfully charged. I assure you my client wants the real killer brought to justice. During this trial, my associate and I are going to prove that Cameron Townsend arrived home to find his wife dead on the kitchen floor. Panicking, he removed the knife from her abdomen and called 911 on his cell. The man was in such hysterics that he didn’t even finish the call.  He dropped his phone on the floor and went to his wife like any good husband would do.”

            One female juror tipped her head to the side as she looked at Catherine.

            “We have witnesses that will attest to Mr. Townsend’s love and devotion to his wife. And a few witnesses who places him elsewhere during the murder. There just wasn’t enough time between the time of death for him to commit this heinous crime. In the end, you will acquit my client in good conscious. Thank you,” she concluded with a small yet professional smile and nod. She walked away from the box.

            “Thank you, Ms. Van Dyke,” Judge Gehrig said. “Mr. Quinn, call your first witness.”

            After the first hour, court recessed for twenty-minutes. Then they reconvened for an hour and a half and recessed for the day. The jury was being sequestered in a hotel. The case had been covered in local television and newspapers almost every day since Cameron’s arrest.

            Catherine knew the first day would be tough but it never made the sting of strong punches any easier. The prosecution had called the medical examiner who testified about the autopsy report and Cameron’s prints on the murder weapon. She had even testified that at the angle of how the knife went into Kelly’s body was appropriate to matching Cameron’s height. When Catherine had cross examined the ME, she got her to admit the timeline of the time of death was extremely tight for Cameron to have done it unless he was a former football player who was quicker than hiccup. The autopsy also proved that Cameron had been the baby’s father which Catherine had tried to use to her client’s advantage.

            Then Ben Quinn had called the first on the scene officers who had arrived at the Townsend Mansion that night. Catherine had been able to cross examinee them to get both officers to admit how distraught and upset Cameron had been when they had arrived and when they had questioned him. Then the prosecution had called Cameron’s former maid and butler to the stand.

Now they make an appearance, Catherine thought with contempt.

They testified to the shouting matches Kelly and Cameron had during the past eight months. Sometimes it was about the amount of money Kelly spent. Cameron was VP of Townsend Foods and the main heir to the Townsend fortune. Therefore, he was not a billionaire – yet. Only when his father died was when he would reach true billionaire status in title and in his wallet. Another argument was about how she was rarely home when he got home from work. The former employees testified that Cameron had always accused her of lying when she would tell him where she was. Unfortunately, Cameron had not had his household staff sign a non-disclosure agreement when he had hired them. The Townsends were what Catherine’s mother constantly called new money.

            “Some things new money society doesn’t know. Lack of experience being wealthy,” Victoria Van Dyke had said.

            Court would reconvene in two days.

            Catherine and Phillip said goodbye to the Townsends. The two attorneys were packing up their notes when Ben Quinn approached.

            “Not too late to consider a plea deal,” Ben said with his chest puffed out.

            Catherine had to admit Ben was an attractive man despite his bluster and arrogance. He had dark auburn hair. Judging by his tailoring of his suits, he was in excellent shape. “No thank you.”

            “You haven’t heard what it is, counselor,” Ben said smugly. “And don’t you owe it to your client to find out?”

            Damn. He was right.

            “All right, what is it?” Catherine asked.

            “Thirty years with hope of parole after twenty.”

            Catherine pursed her lips. Then again, he could have said a year and she wouldn’t like the deal. Cameron was innocent. “I’ll take it to him because I’m obligated to do so, but I will advise him to not accept.”

            “If – no. When he’s found guilty, he could get life. Be sure when you advise him about the deal, Catherine,” Ben warned and walked away.