Epilogue
Sam raised her right hand and swore to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth while making a studious effort not to look at the repulsive face of the man who’d tried to kill her—twice. He would be tried for both attacks at this trial, and Sam focused on remaining calm.
Nick sat in the front row of the gallery, his steady gaze fixed on her as she talked about events they’d both sooner forget.
“Can you identify Leonard Stahl in the courtroom today?”
Sam pointed to the defendant. He’d lost a significant amount of weight since he’d been in jail, but he stared back at her with the hateful, beady eyes that brought back horrific memories she hoped she’d never again have to think about after today.
They went through the events that had led to him attacking her on her front porch.
“Did you feel that Mr. Stahl intended to kill you that day?”
“Absolutely. If my son’s Secret Service detail hadn’t been there, he probably would’ve succeeded.”
“Objection.”
“Overruled.”
Faith gave Sam a smug look that only she could see. “Why would Mr. Stahl want to kill you?”
“I don’t know exactly. He hated me from the time I first joined the force and went out of his way to make my life miserable when I worked for him. I always suspected his animosity stemmed from his dislike of my father.”
“Objection.”
“Overruled.”
“Do you know why he disliked your father?”
“No, neither of us knew. We suspected he might be jealous because my father, who was a year senior to him, had been more successful in his career. But beyond that, we never knew why. And then when Stahl was reassigned to Internal Affairs and I was put in charge of the Homicide squad, his ire toward me seemed to intensify.” If she were to glance in Stahl’s direction, she suspected his face might be that hideous shade of purple that it took on when he became enraged.
She’d seen a lot of that colorful face over the years.
But she didn’t look. She didn’t care enough to be bothered looking.
“Prior to the incident on your front porch, had anything happened between yourself and Mr. Stahl?”
“So many things. We constantly butted heads, most of the time over manufactured offenses that he used to try to discredit me.”
“Had he ever threatened you before the day on your front porch?”
“Numerous times. He brought me up before the Internal Affairs Board on charges of misconduct on two occasions, the first over my involvement with Nick Cappuano during the O’Connor investigation.
When I only received a suspension for that, he said, ‘You may think you’ve won this round, Holland, but you mark my words: I’ll get rid of you if it’s the last thing I ever do.
’” Sam had memorized the details of the various incidents in anticipation of testifying.
“Did you feel personally threatened by that statement?”
“Not in a physical sense, but I definitely felt he was threatening my career.”
“And did he have the power to hurt your career?”
“Absolutely. He was the lieutenant in charge of Internal Affairs at that time, so he could definitely make trouble for me. And he outranked me as a more senior lieutenant.”
“Did anyone else hear him threaten you?”
“Yes, my partner, Detective Cruz, heard it.” As she spoke, Sam felt the heat of Stahl’s gaze on her, but she continued to look at Nick while ignoring the hatred coming from Stahl.
“What was the second reason you were brought up on IAB charges?”
“Stahl overheard one of my officers joking about having to work while the rest of my squad attended my wedding. He decided to make something of that.”
“Did it go anywhere?”
“No.”
“And what was his reaction?”
“He was pissed and seemed to increase his efforts to try to get me in trouble, always suggesting that my father’s friendship with the chief was the only reason I hadn’t been fired.”
“Did you argue with him?”
“All the time. I will admit that I often enjoyed needling him. I enjoyed watching his face turn purple with rage every time he was anywhere near me, but I never imagined he’d take it as far as he did.”
“Objection, Your Honor. Could you ask the witness to stick to the questions and quit the editorializing?”
“Sustained. Lieutenant, please answer the questions and leave it at that.”
Was she allowed to tell the defense attorney to fuck off? Probably not… “Yes, Your Honor.”
“Lieutenant Stahl was arrested for tipping a reporter to a detail you had withheld from the public during an investigation. Can you tell us about that?”
“Yes, when we investigated the murder of DC Feds player Willie Vazquez, we didn’t disclose that his body had been found in a dumpster.
I heard from Darren Tabor, a reporter with the Washington Star, that he’d received that information in an anonymous tip.
Working with IT Lieutenant Archelotta, we determined the tip was made by Stahl in a call from the Lieutenant’s Lounge at MPD Headquarters.
Lieutenant Archelotta produced video that showed Stahl making the call.
Upon seeing the video, the chief ordered that Stahl be relieved of his weapon and shield and that he be arrested. ”
“How did Stahl react?”
“He blamed me, even though the video plainly showed him disclosing information we had deliberately withheld from the public reports.”
“Did he threaten you?”
“Yes.” Sam had memorized this part, too.
“His exact words were: ‘You’re going to pay for this, Holland! You’d better watch your back, little girl!
That stupid bitch set me up! This is all her fault!
’ After he said that in front of myself, Chief Farnsworth, Deputy Chief Conklin and Captain Malone, Stahl was charged with a felony count of threatening a public official. ”
“Did he make good on that threat?”
“He did. After he was released on bail, he showed up at my house and attacked me on my front porch.”
“Can you please describe the attack?”
“He arrived in uniform and wrapped an arm around my neck, squeezing so tightly I couldn’t breathe.
Luckily, I was able to knee him in the groin and then kick him in the knee before my son’s Secret Service detail intervened.
” The two agents who’d been there were scheduled to testify to what they’d seen.
“Were you injured?”
Sam nodded. “My neck was black and blue and very painful for some time afterward.”
“Was it your feeling that he intended to kill you?”
“Yes, I believe he would’ve killed me if I hadn’t been able to defend myself or had help from the agents.”
“Objection.”
“Overruled.”
“When was the next time you saw Stahl after the attack on your doorstep?”
“I next saw him at the home of Marissa Springer, during an investigation.”
“What was he doing there?”
“I learned he was in cahoots with Marissa, who blamed me for the death of her son, Billy. Our investigation into the murder of Marissa’s youngest son, Hugo, implicated Billy. He was later killed by police after he took hostages.”
Faith led her through the details of that day—arriving at Marissa’s house to ask her a few more questions pertaining to the investigation, realizing she’d made a critical mistake going there alone, watching Marissa kill her maid with a shot to the forehead, being marched to the basement that had been a crime scene and made to sit in a chair to await her fate.
“What happened once you were in the basement?”
“Marissa made a call, said she’d gotten me to come back and to get over there.”
“Did you know who she was talking to?”
“Not until he showed up.”
“You’re referring to the defendant?”
“Yes.” Sam would never be able to properly articulate the shock she’d felt when Stahl had arrived, and she’d put two plus two together to figure out that Marissa had paid his bail on the assault charges and entered into some sort of unholy alliance with him.
“What happened then?”
“He said some stuff to me, which I ignored, and then he slapped me in the face and pulled my hair, hard, trying to get a reaction from me.”
“Did he get one?”
“I spit at him.”
“How did he react?”
“He punched me in the face. Then he tied me to the chair as tightly as he could. I also learned they’d set up my partner, Detective Cruz, by having someone mess with his girlfriend, so he’d be out of the picture when they took me hostage.”
Faith asked her a series of questions that revealed the next few hours of hell to the jury—Stahl’s unpacking of an arsenal of weapons, his argument with Marissa about who was in charge before he shot her in the gut, how he told Sam he hated her because she thought she was better than everyone else.
He insulted her father and his relationship with the chief and generally ranted his hatred toward her as he wrapped her in razor wire.
The jurors, who’d withheld reactions up until then, gasped at that detail.
“What did you say to him as this was happening?”
“Nothing.” Faith had told her she wanted to get that detail into the record—that Sam hadn’t said a word to him during the prolonged attack.
“At all?”
“I didn’t say a single word to him the entire time.”
“Why?”
“Because it was bothering him that I refused to speak to him, so I stuck to my plan to stay quiet and let it unfold however it was going to.”
“What were you thinking about?”
Sam kept her gaze locked on Nick, who barely blinked the entire time she was testifying. “My husband, my son, the rest of my family. I focused on thoughts of them and that kept me focused.”
“Did you think you were going to die?”
“I was fairly certain I was going to, especially when he doused the area around my chair with gasoline. His intention was for me to burn alive, knowing that I’d be sliced by the razor wire if I so much as moved.”
More gasps from the jurors.