Capitol Offense by William Bernhardt Page A

You won’t have any trouble finding someone.”
    “I don’t want just anyone. I want you. I hear you’re the best in town.”
    “There are lots of capable attorneys in town. Call my office manager. He can make some recommendations.”
    Dennis sat up and looked at him with the same pleading eyes that had almost started him crying when they last met. “I need your help.”
    “That’s what you said before. But you didn’t listen to me.” Ben frowned. “What happened?”
    “That’s the problem. I don’t know. I blacked out.”
    Ben took a deep breath. “Was that induced by the drugs or the nakedness?”
    “I’m serious. I’m not making this up.” He took Ben’s arm and kept him from rising. “I will admit I hated that man. My wife suffered and died because of him. I will admit I thought about killing him, or making him suffer some semblance of what my wife suffered. But that wasn’t why I went to see him. I wanted to confront him. Wanted to find out what was going on.”
    “I’m amazed he agreed to see you.”
    “I was, too. When I got to his hotel room, he almost seemed …” Dennis stared at the ceiling, searching for the right word. “He almost seemed guilt-ridden. Maybe he regretted what he did, after he saw what happened to Joslyn. I don’t know. Something was on his mind. We talked, but at that point my memory gets pretty shaky. I don’t know what happened except I remember having the distinct feeling he was going to tell me something, something important …”
    “And then?”
    Dennis clenched his fists. “And that’s all I can remember. I know there was more. I just can’t bring it back.”
    “What would cause you to black out?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Did he hit you?”
    “No.”
    “Has this ever happened to you before?”
    “No.”
    “When did you come around?”
    “More than two hours later. The police had me in custody. And I remembered nothing since just before I passed out.”
    “Isn’t that convenient?”
    Dennis swore under his breath. “Pretty damned inconvenient, if you ask me.”
    “Well, sorry, but I can’t help you. I should be going.”
    “Please don’t.” Dennis took Ben’s wrist, holding him back. “I don’t know what happened to me, but surely this only strengthens our case for temporary insanity.”
    “Funny how that works out.”
    “I know there are cases in which blackouts have been used as evidence of mental disorder.”
    “You know, despite whatever impression you may have gotten from TV shows or the local tabloid news, insanity defenses are rarely successful, and when they are, ninety percent of the time the defendants had been previously diagnosed with mental illnesses.”
    “I’ve seen a therapist.”
    “Was that before or after you came to see me?”
    “My capability to function was obviously diminished. I couldn’t distinguish right from wrong.”
    Ben could feel his irritation rising. It was impossible not to be suspicious of a defendant who knew as much about the law as he did. “Diminished capacity is not a defense. It’s a mitigating factor. It might get you a reduced sentence, but it won’t get you off.”
    “I know. We have to say I was insane. Didn’t comprehend the nature and quality of my actions. Succumbed to an irresistible impulse.” He paused. “And we have to say it was temporary. And now it’s gone.”
    Ben looked at him through narrowed eyes. “You’re really weirding me out, you know it?”
    “Is it a crime to be smart? Well-read? Do you only take stupid defendants?”
    “Well, no, but—”
    “I want you to take my case.”
    “That’s not going to happen.”
    “There’s more to this than you know!”
    Ben stopped, one hand already on the cell door. “What does that mean?”
    “I don’t know exactly. That what I wanted to talk to Sentz about. To find out what was going on. I think …” He waved his hands in the air, as though trying to straighten out his muddled thoughts. “I think there’s …