Chapter Twenty-Five
Faith called when Sam was on the way to the courthouse. “Hey, I’m coming.”
“No worries. We’ve got time. I wanted to update you on what’s transpired thus far in the trial.”
“Okay.” Honestly, she didn’t want to hear the details or be reminded of the dastardly scheme that’d been perpetrated against Nick, her and their extended family.
“We’ve heard from the investigator who was hired to take photos of Scotty, Nick’s brothers and your nieces and nephews, and made the connection between him and Stanley Ritter, Nelson’s henchman.
We’ve also successfully tied them to Dante Fields, who testified earlier today as part of his plea agreement.
The defense was able to get the plea into evidence, but we redirected to ask Fields if his story would’ve been different without the plea deal, and he said he told it exactly as it happened. ”
“That’s all good, right?”
“Absolutely. The testimony thus far has been devastating for Nelson. Your team and the FBI handed me an airtight case. I just have to stick the landing. As we’ve discussed, your testimony will be essential to bringing the personal element, to show that in addition to Peter Gibson’s murder, other people were hurt by what Nelson and Ritter did. ”
“We were talking about how it was all for nothing. We wondered how Nelson felt when he heard Nick had decided not to run in the next election. I thought you might be able to use that angle, like maybe ask me if Nelson’s scheme would’ve worked if he hadn’t gotten caught.
I could say that Nick never thought for a moment about resigning, and Nelson did all this for nothing because Nick chose not to run—and not because of what Nelson and Ritter did.
It was because he didn’t want to be away from his young family to campaign. ”
“That’s a great angle to end on. I’ll work it in.”
“I hope it feels like salt in an open wound to Nelson.”
“I’m sure it will.”
“We’re pulling up now. I’ll be in shortly.”
“Great, thanks.”
“Hang on, Sam,” Vernon said in his sternest tone as they arrived to see a mob scene outside the courthouse. “We’re bringing in reinforcements.”
She shrank back into the seat, wishing she could be anywhere but in the middle of the maelstrom playing out as the media realized she’d arrived and that the main event would soon begin. How she longed for their old life at times like this, when her new title made it difficult to move around freely.
That was a thought she’d never share with Nick, who suffered enough over the changes wrought for all of them by his “promotion” to the Oval Office.
Fifteen minutes later, the Secret Service had secured the area.
Vernon opened the back door while Q stood across from him, creating a human barrier. They hustled her up the stairs as reporters shouted questions at her about the Russians, the bombing, Gretchen Henderson, Nick and anything else they could think of.
She ignored them and stayed laser-focused on the door and what she was here to do. Peter had protected her at the end of his life. Today was all about getting justice for him.
Inside, she was ushered through security and taken directly to the courtroom. As soon as she was inside the room, Faith said, “The prosecution calls Lieutenant Sam Holland.”
After being sworn in, Sam took a seat and prepared herself to take an unhappy trip down memory lane.
“Please state your legal name for the record,” Faith said.
“Samantha Holland.” As she said those words, she realized she’d provided yet another headline for the pundits to chew on—that she’d never legally changed her name after she and Nick were married.
“And you’re the commander of the Homicide unit at the Metropolitan Police Department. Is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“How long have you served in that role?”
“The last two and a half years of my fifteen years with the MPD.”
“What was your relationship to Peter Gibson?”
“He was my ex-husband.”
“And how would you describe your relationship with him prior to his death?”
“After our contentious divorce, he stalked and threatened me. He attached an explosive device to my car and sabotaged my relationship with my current husband.”
“How did he factor into this case?”
“A credible threat against our family was received by the Secret Service when my husband was vice president. Our team at the MPD investigated, along with federal authorities, and it came to my attention that Peter had gone missing around the same time that the threat was levied. It occurred to me that the threat might’ve come from him.
So my team and the FBI started looking for him. ”
“Was he found?”
“Yes.” Sam wished she could forget the photos of what’d been done to him. “He was dead in his apartment, tied to a chair, with injuries consistent with torture.”
“Can you describe his injuries?”
“He’d been whipped, had deep cuts and burns on his face and torso, and his fingernails had been removed.”
Faith gestured to a screen where the jury could view the photos.
Sam refused to look. Once had been more than enough for her.
“What was your reaction when you heard what’d been done to Mr. Gibson?”
“I was physically sick and emotionally shattered. What was done to him… It was beyond horrific.”
“Were you able to determine who murdered him?”
“Yes, by reviewing video from his apartment building in the days before. He was frequently seen with a man named Dante Fields.”
“How was he identified?”
“Through facial recognition software. He was well known to law enforcement. We tracked him down, arrested him and brought him in for questioning. He demanded a deal from prosecutors before he’d tell us anything.
He agreed to plead guilty to reduced charges of felony assault in exchange for telling us who hired him to torture my ex-husband, hoping to get dirt about me. ”
“And who was the person who hired him?”
“Christopher Nelson, via Stanley Ritter.”
“Objection,” the defense attorney said. “Speculative.”
“Your Honor,” Faith replied, “please accept people’s exhibits forty and forty-one into evidence.” She placed copies on the defense table and handed another set to the judge. “These show Mr. Fields’s own words in the transcript from his initial interview.”
“Overruled,” the judge said.
“Your Honor—”
“Sit down, Mr. Wells. Your objection has been overruled.”
“Were you able to corroborate Mr. Fields’s statements?” Faith asked Sam.
“We executed search warrants at the homes and offices of the defendants, seized computers and electronic devices and established a connection between Mr. Ritter and Mr. Fields and between Mr. Ritter and Mr. Nelson.”
“What do you believe the motive of this crime was?”
“Objection. Speculative.”
“I’d like to hear the lieutenant’s answer,” the judge said.
“We believe Mr. Nelson objected to his father’s choice of Nick Cappuano to be his new vice president after Vice President Gooding resigned due to health challenges.
We believe Mr. Nelson was further outraged by Vice President Cappuano’s soaring popularity, as he had presidential aspirations of his own that would be derailed by a popular vice president who’d be the standard bearer in the next election cycle. ”
“Objection! This is pure fiction!”
Faith returned to the prosecution table for more documents that she again delivered to the defense and the judge. “People’s exhibit forty-two is the incorporation documents for Christopher Nelson’s presidential campaign exploratory committee.”
“Overruled,” the judge said.
The defense attorney was sputtering with outrage when he sat back down.
“Were you able to tie other associated crimes to Mr. Nelson and Mr. Ritter during your investigation?” Faith asked.
“Yes, we found they had retained an investigator to photograph the children in our lives and used the photos to make threats against us that we believe were intended to drive my husband out of office to clear the way for Mr. Nelson to step up to the plate. In addition, they paid my mother-in-law twenty-five thousand dollars to go on TV and spew lies about her son to try to further impugn his character.”
“Were they successful in driving your husband out of office?”
“No.” Sam laughed to herself at the understatement of that single word.
“They were not, although, ironically, prior to President Nelson’s death, Vice President Cappuano had announced he would not run for the presidency in the next election due to his desire to be with his young family.
” She looked directly at Nelson and Ritter when she added, “So in the end, all this was for naught.”
“Nothing further,” Faith said.
Wells stood and applauded. “What a performance, Lieutenant. The way you talk about Vice President Cappuano as if he isn’t your husband. He is your husband, correct?”
She wanted to roll her eyes to high heaven, but she just said, “Yes.”
“So let me get this straight… You think the son of the president and his associate tortured your ex-husband for information he could use against you and your current husband. Do I have that right?”
“Yes.”
“I mean, I’ve heard you were full of yourself, but this…”
“Objection,” Faith said.
“Sustained. Quit the editorializing, Mr. Wells, and stick to the facts of the case.”
“Ah, yes, the facts of the case as presented by the ex-wife of the alleged victim and the current wife of the man my clients were supposedly trying to run out of office. Does anyone else see the insanity of this case?”
Sam stared straight ahead without blinking, a technique she’d used effectively in the past while under cross-examination.
“Your Honor, is that an actual question?” Faith asked.
“Move along, Mr. Wells. We haven’t got all day.”
“Where were you when Mr. Gibson’s allegedly tortured body was found?”
“That Mr. Gibson was tortured is a fact, not speculation, Mr. Wells, and I was in a secure bunker with my family, where we’d been taken after the Secret Service determined the threats made against us, along with the photos of our son, siblings, nieces and nephews going about their daily lives, were credible. ”
“What did Mr. Gibson tell this so-called torturer about you?”
“Nothing.”