Capitol Offense by William Bernhardt Page A

wrong?” He turned around to face the bench. “This is not a frivolous plea, your honor, and we will prove that at trial. But the point I make now is that, regardless of the outcome of the trial, this man deserves our sympathy. Perhaps even our pity. He does not deserve to be locked away for weeks until this case comes to trial. In the name of humanity, your honor, I beg you to set bail for this defendant!”
    Ben sat down. The courtroom remained silent for a long time. Guillerman did not attempt a rebuttal.
    “Very well,” Judge McPartland said, clearing his throat. “I can see that this is going to be a very interesting case. You are correct, Mr. Guillerman, in your statement that the court does not normally award bail in capital cases. But I think we can all agree that this is far from a typical case. I see no likelihood whatsoever that the defendant will flee, nor do I think it likely that he will cause harm to other persons. And I must say that I think it altogether appropriate that the court give some consideration to the ordeal this man has already suffered. I have been married to the same woman for thirty-seven years now, and … well, there but for the grace of God go I. No one should have to endure such an experience, and I will not make it worse.”
    Guillerman rose but spoke quietly. “The State opposes the setting of any bail in this case.”
    “Understood,” the judge continued. “Objection noted. And I will set bail quite high—a million dollars. But I will make it available. Not intending to set any new precedent, but simply acknowledging that these are most unusual circumstances.”
    Ben liked the result the judge was rambling toward, but was concerned by McPartland’s lack of focus. He seemed to be shuffling about, not really making his point. Ben began to wonder if he was up to a trial of this magnitude.
    The judge slammed his gavel. “Bail is set in the amount of one million dollars. When you have your bond together, make the proper arrangements with the officer on the second floor. Now about the trial—”
    “As soon as possible,” Ben said, rising. “We’re ready. There are few facts in question.” And not much evidence that could help them, since they were planning a defense based upon Dennis’s mental state, not on the evidence. A long wait till trial would only give the prosecution more time to turn up evidence that might be used against them.
    Guillerman looked at Ben, obviously surprised. He shrugged. “If the defense is ready, so are we.”
    “Very well. I’ll plug this into the first available slot. Thank you, gentlemen. This hearing is dismissed.”
    The tumult rose with such suddenness it was as if a door had suddenly been opened onto an elementary school playground. It was almost deafening. Many people—not all of them reporters—hurled questions at Ben, which he pointedly ignored.
    Guillerman pulled Ben to one side. “I’m only saying this because I really am a fan. You’ll never win on temporary insanity.”
    “I guess we’ll see.”
    “I don’t blame you for trying. But I know more about the facts of this case than you do, and I’m telling you—you cannot make that stick.”
    “I appreciate your concern.” Sort of. “But I’m not thinking on my feet. I would never advance a theory I didn’t believe was viable.”
    “And if you’re contemplating jury nullification, put that out of your head right now. Judge McPartland won’t let it happen. No matter how you dress it up. He’ll shoot it down.”
    “Well, you never know. I’m full of surprises.”
    “I know that. But I think this time you’ve gone one surprise too far.”
    “Time will tell, right?”
    Guillerman shook his head, then smiled. “Fine. Play it your way. Can’t say I didn’t warn you.”
    Ben returned to his own table.
    “Nice job,” Christina said, but Ben could see she was not altogether pleased.
    “Excellent,” Dennis said, grabbing his hand and shaking it. “You had me a