Victim

"Unfortunately for the state, Mr. Evans, the product of an illegal search cannot later be used as justification for having made it. Nor do I find compelling Officer Gateau's observation that the defendant seemed overly concerned about the damage to the back of his van. That would be a common enough reaction to a traffic mishap, however minor. I cannot see how, in that situation, it can possibly be construed to constitute probable cause to search Mr. Tate's vehicle." Each word of the ruling was pronounced in the precise, almost pedantic accent Judge Marlene Wexler had adopted long ago to hide her rural Mississippi up-bringing. The only black female on the Orleans Parish criminal bench, Wexler's assignment to this case had been, from the beginning, the district attorney's worst nightmare. Her rulings were carefully grounded in the law, but courthouse scuttlebutt had long ago put her down on the side of defendants' rights versus the police. She had never been overturned. It was obvious she didn't intend to be on this. "Ms. Siddons has testified that she clearly heard Mr. Tate deny permission for the officer to open the rear doors of the van. And deny permission for him to search the suitcase discovered inside. In both instances, Officer Gateau chose to do so, despite the defendant's objections.""Your Honor..." "Leaving me no option," Wexler went on, speaking above the prosecutor's attempt to protest what they all knew was coming. "No option," she repeated for emphasis, "but to grant the motion to suppress all evidence found during the course of those searches. As well as," she continued inexorably, her tone daring the district attorney to interrupt again, "all evidence recovered during the subsequent search of Mr. Tate's home." Because of the political ramifications of this case, if not for other, more humanitarian concerns, District Attorney Carl Evans was forced to take up that challenge, no matter how much he might dislike the position it was going to put him with the judge. "The warrant for that search, Your Honor..." "Was obtained from Judge Fischer based on evidence found during the illegal search of the van. Fruit of the poisonous tree, Mr. Evans, as you are very well aware. It is not going to come in. None of it is." The last phrase was very soft, each word distinctly enunciated. And only after the sibilance of the last syllable had died away, the pause lengthening unbearably, seeming to echo throughout the courtroom, did Judge Wexler speak again."Do you have any other evidence that would justify holding this defendant, Mr. Evans? "The prosecutor's mouth had flattened. Now it pursed, as if he were reluctant to open it. There was, however, only so long he could delay the inevitable."No, Your Honor," he said finally. Wexler's dark eyes settled briefly on the rookie cop who had performed the search that was about to put a serial killer back on the streets. The media had already had a field day with this case. Given the events of this morning's hearing, that would only get worse. "Then, Mr. Tate," Judge Marlene Wexler said, "you are free to go." "He's gonna walk," the voice in his headset warned. "Son of a bitch," Mac Donovan said.The utterance wasn't forceful. Mac had learned long ago that he could do nothing about the vagaries of the system he served. He was sworn to uphold it, even when it was wrong. As it had been today. "Taking him out the back?" he asked."That's what they say." "Everybody in place?" "He may not cooperate. He's like that, you know," Sonny Cochran said, the last phrase sarcastic. "Good," Donovan responded, the single syllable sharp, abruptly cut off. "Maybe somebody'll shoot the bastard." There was soft laughter in his ear. "We should be so lucky." They had all known how this would play out. The uniform who'd responded to a fender bender had screwed up. As a result, the evidence he'd discovered in the back of Samuel Tate's van, the so-Wilson, Gayle is the author of 'Victim', published 2008 under ISBN 9780778323945 and ISBN 0778323943.