“Mr. Muscadine understands that you consulted to the police on this case and, in that capacity, you’ve already interviewed him. He believes your psychological knowledge will help the court understand his motivation.”
“You want me to help him develop a diminished-capacity defense?”
Pause. “Not necessarily, Doctor.”
“But you’re looking for some kind of psychological excuse for what he did.”
“Not an excuse, Dr. Delaware. Motivation. And after what was perpetrated upon Mr. Muscadine, mental anguish would be significant, wouldn’t you say?”
So Oster knew about the kidney theft. Milo’d said the D.A. was holding back, waiting to see how the case shaped up, what would be used as evidence and have to be turned over under the discovery rules.
Meaning Muscadine had told his lawyer about the surgery. But Muscadine still had no idea who the recipient was, and if the D.A. chose not to use the information, keeping the old man under wraps, and if Oster didn’t ask the right questions, the details might never come out.
But the defense’s problem could be turned back on the prosecution, too. Because if Muscadine didn’t confess openly, direct proof of his guilt was lacking: no weapons, no witnesses, no physical evidence.
How much to use, how much to hide?
Leah Schwartz, the assistant D.A., was still going around with it. Still talking plea bargain or even dismissal. Forty-eight hours to file or release Muscadine on bail.
Did Oster’s call mean he didn’t yet appreciate the weakness of the case against his client?
He said, “So will you see him, Dr. Delaware?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Why?”
“Conflict of interest.”
He’d expected the answer and his response was rich with malicious joy. “Okay, Dr. Delaware, then I seriously suggest you think about this: If I subpoena you as an expert witness, you’ll get paid. If I subpoena you and you don’t cooperate, I still get you deposed and in court, but as a regular witness, and you don’t receive one thin dime.”
“Sounds like you’re threatening me.”
“No, just laying out the contingencies. For your sake.”
“It’s good to know someone’s looking after my interests,” I said. “Have a nice day.”
I phoned Milo and told him.
He said, “Figures. Leah said your name came up today when she was talking to Oster. Apparently Muscadine told him about your visit and Oster’s making a big deal about having a psychologist investigate Muscadine as evidence that we knew all along he was under mental strain. So now he wants to use you. It’s an old tactic, co-opt the other side’s consultant as your own. If he can’t turn you around, he tries to humiliate you on the stand and reduces your usefulness to us.”
“Has Muscadine been charged yet?”
“No, but there has been progress, ’cause this morning, we found a nice big cache of steroids in his apartment. No doubt that’ll be part of the defense, too, if it gets that far: drug-induced rage. But at least it buys us some more jail time. Despite that, Leah’s still thinking about a plea bargain because she’s worried a jury will have sympathy for Muscadine’s ordeal.”
“What about Kathy DiNapoli?” I said. “If he killed her just because she saw him with Mandy Wright, there wouldn’t be much sympathy for that.”
“Yeah, but we’ve got no evidence on Kathy. When I mention her name, he gives that charming actor’s smile, but that’s all.”
“What’s the plea bargain?”
“Manslaughter on Hope only. Leah’ll demand voluntary, Oster will demand involuntary, they’ll work something out.”
“If the case is that weak, why would Oster bargain at all?”
“He might not. Leah’s keeping Big Micky’s identity close to the vest for now, but she may pull it out to scare Muscadine: Walk free, turkey, and the mob goes for you. She’s hoping that’ll convince Muscadine to accept a reduced sentence at a federal prison under protection.”
“Sweet deal for four cold-blooded murders,” I said. “But doesn’t Oster’s calling me mean he thinks the case is stronger than it is?”
“Hard to say. He’s one of those brand-new hotshots, grew up on Perry Mason, thinks he’s smarter than he is. What Leah’s really worried about is he’ll motion to get the whole thing dismissed on insufficient evidence and succeed. If we could find a weapon, anything physical . . . but so far no luck. The only knives at Muscadine’s place were for spreading butter and no guns at all to match Locking. The guy’s covered his tracks.”