Capitol Offense by William Bernhardt Page B

little worried back in the jail cell. But that was fantastic. You can really pour on the fire when you get worked up, huh?”
    “I was doing my job.”
    “And doing it darn well. The most important thing is that you seemed like you really believed it. That’s what sells a jury.”
    “That, plus evidence. And truth.”
    “It’s important for the jury to believe that the lawyer likes his client. Gives credibility to the claims of innocence.”
    “We don’t have to prove innocence,” Ben said. “Only not proven guilty.” And he added to himself: Thank goodness.
    “Well, anyway, I’m pleased, Ben. I guess everything I heard about you was true. But I don’t have a million dollars. I do have a trust fund I could use toward bail, but it’s not enough.”
    Ben nodded. “We’ll get a bond. It still won’t be cheap, but we’ll find a way. You may have to take out a loan. It’ll be worth it. You don’t need to spend more time in jail.”
    “You need to spend it in our office,” Christina said, packing her materials away. “Now that Ben has so brilliantly put this case on the fast track, we’re going to have to work night and day to get ready.”
    “That’s fine,” Dennis said. “I’m willing. Whatever you want.” He rubbed his hands together. “This is very encouraging.”
    Ben saw Christina’s eyes narrow.
    “I’ve read that people who don’t get bail are found guilty nine times out of ten. And the judge’s reaction suggests that we’ve done a decent job of spinning public opinion. I think we need another press conference, Ben. Soon, on the courthouse steps. If the psychiatrist is available, maybe he should come, too. Those potential jurors will be watching.”
    He moved toward the door, where a dozen reporters eagerly waited to get their hands on him.
    Christina gave her husband a fierce look. “Ben …”
    “I know, Christina. I know.”
     
     
     

8
     
     
    Ben stood shoulder to shoulder with his newly sprung and spruced-up client, staring at the vast array of microphones and minicams assembled on the plaza outside the Tulsa County courthouse. It was important that Dennis be present and that they all see him as he was, a good, intelligent, clean-cut professional who had recently lost his wife. Not a monster, not a violent man.
    Just the same, Ben planned to do all the talking.
    “We applaud Judge McPartland’s actions. It would have been much easier to take the usual path and avoid controversy. But instead of jumping on the media bandwagon, he saw the facts and circumstances clearly and realized that Dennis Thomas is no threat to anyone. He does not deserve to be incarcerated, not now or at any time in the future.
    “It is all too easy in this reactionary age to heighten the drama and act as if each and every crime is of equal horror, but that is simply not the case. Not every youth should be tried as an adult. Not every defendant should receive the maximum sentence. We can rise above the visceral need for retribution. We are better than that. Those old attitudes have produced the current mess in the criminal justice system—over 2.2 million people in prison, the highest incarceration rate of any nation, more than four times the world average.”
    Ben scanned his audience. So far they all seemed attentive. He suspected he was not swaying the reporter from Fox News, and several others as well, but at least no one was heckling. “The reality, which Judge McPartland recognized, is that Dennis was subjected to circumstances that would tax the mental stability of even the most solid citizen. Who could live knowing that the police department could have saved his wife—and chose not to do so? Who would not be tormented by that knowledge? Temporary insanity is not a gimmick dreamed up by lawyers; it is a very real and debilitating mental state, one that all of us could experience given the right circumstances. It is time that we as a nation recognize that fact and stop acting as if harsh