Unlucky in Law by Perri O'Shaughnessy Page A

not newshounds, unlike the reporters in back who scribbled furiously.
    Stefan faded into his chair as if he could disappear. He kept his hands on the table as Klaus had instructed, but balled into fists.
    “A woman's arm was sticking out of the trash bag?” Jaime said, although the words had been quite clear.
    “A small arm I took for a woman's. Yes.” Millman wasn't an exaggerator, Nina had decided. When he bowed his head, remembering, he needed to do it.
    “Protruding from a trash bag about four feet down?”
    “That's right. A couple of bags, big, black dirt-covered trash bags with yellow ties.”
    Jaime put down his papers, screeched back in his chair, and asked, “What happened then?”
    “I called into the station and made contact with Detective Banta. She said she would take over. I stayed and secured the premises until she and other officers from Homicide arrived about half an hour later.”
    “And then?”
    “And then I wrote up my report, went off duty, and went home.”
    “Thank you, Officer Millman. I have nothing further,” Jaime said.
    “We'll take our lunch recess,” said the judge, with the usual words to the jury. Stefan, looking flushed, was led into the back room where the guard would give him his lunch. Klaus and Nina stood up.
    “The flashlight—I'm going to do a computer search during lunch,” Nina said, feeling unable to avoid the presence of an elephant in the courtroom.
    “You think I made a huge mistake there, don't you, Miss Reilly?”
    “It's unheard of not to try to suppress traffic-stop evidence in a traffic case,” she blurted.
    “You think I'm senile?” Klaus said. “You think I didn't give the matter due consideration?” He wore an expression as proud and sure of itself as an American flag. “Well, I am old but my mind is intact. I didn't judge it to be necessary.”
    Nina stashed the files in her case. When the courtroom emptied, they left, Klaus in the lead, Nina following behind his erect posture and immaculate suit.

7
    Wednesday 9/17
    W EDNESDAY MORNING K LAUS CROSS-EXAMINED O FFICER M ILLMAN, who diverged not a whit from his testimony. Nina fed Klaus a list of questions about the flashlight search, and he read them through reading glasses, putting them to the witness as she requested, along with a few of his own thrown in for good measure. For now, he behaved like a lamb, modulated and meek, but Klaus was no lamb. He never broadcasted his strength in advance but saved his power for the attack, or at least he always had in the past. She hoped to see it again during this case when they needed it most.
    Nina had tracked down her flashlight case, which turned out not to be so significant. A flashlight search was legal anywhere an occupant of a vehicle could reach within it. Millman and Jaime must have read the case, too, because Millman practically quoted it line for line. Yes, Stefan could have reached into the back seat of his small car. Yes, Millman had merely flashed the light through the window. No, he did not insert the flashlight inside the vehicle.
    After another brief but heated argument out of the hearing of the jury, Salas ruled that the search came under the Plain View Doctrine. That was that, until the time came for appeal, if Stefan was convicted. They had lost the skirmish, but at least they had belatedly got onto their horses and come out jousting, which protected the issue for appeal, and peripherally, but seriously, might protect the firm from a malpractice claim.
    What a close call. Klaus should have raised the issue long ago, but now they were in the middle of a trial, which was a bad time for self-flagellation.
     
    At lunch, Klaus placed his napkin neatly in his lap and stuck it to her again, suggesting she take the cross-exam on Kelsey Banta.
    “I'm not prepared, Klaus,” she said patiently. “We should keep with the plan that you handle it.”
    “Of course I am ready and able to do that,” Klaus said. He put a leaf of lettuce into his