Book Four of the Maison de Danse Quartet
Suspense
Date Published: 12-01-2022
Publisher: Épouvantail Books
What do you do when the legal system refuses to deliver justice?
Izzy knows.
Conducting her own investigations and trials, she’s out on the hunt,
righting wrongs in honor of the victims and their surviving families.
Outlaw revenge has its perils and she’s soon in the fight of her
life.
Sometimes a killer’s own survivors also go on the hunt.
Having kicked their hornet’s nest, Izzy is desperate to take them
out.
Does she have what it takes to battle off her own demons?
Can she stop those who want her dead?
EXCERPT
“Good morning, Mr. Bosa,” Judge Lloyd greeted him. “What happened to your face?” He turned to the defense attorney, expecting him to explain. Bosa spoke up instead, his voice soft and nasally, sounding like a mumble-mouthed kid.
“Allergies, not sure.” Bosa looked to his attorney for support.
“Your Honor, my client has an infection from the injections he administered.”
“You mean the incident with the plumbing caulking?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“I trust this will not hamper his ability to be present in his hearing.”
“No, Your Honor.”
“Then, let’s move on.”
The hearing began with the formal reading of the planned proceedings for the day. When Judge Lloyd concluded, it was time for the first testimony by a forensic psychologist. There would be three—one for the state, another for the defense, and the third court-appointed.
Over the next hour and a half, one after another discussed their interviews with the defendant and their findings. When you query three forensic psychologists, you get what’s expected. Bosa’s mental illnesses were described as rigid ideation, emotionally restricted, schizophrenic, and a psychotic disorder.
It took Judge Lloyd’s wise and patient mind to reel them in at the end of each of their testimonies, pressing each.
“Bottom line, is he competent to proceed? Does he have the capacity to understand the severity of the charges?”
The answer was yes, all three times.
During all this, I studied Bosa, that deadly twenty-seven-year-old toilet snake. He liked to play with his chair, swiveling it, rocking it back and forth, like a kid with a newfound toy.
Ignoring the proceedings, he was whispering to his lawyer, becoming agitated at times. Owen Mosby was trying to settle him down, eyes to the proceedings, whispering behind his hand.
“Is there a problem with the defendant?” the judge asked, pausing the state attorney’s opening remarks.
“Yes, Your Honor,” Bosa complained.
His attorney stood.
“Your Honor, my client is insisting on a change of counsel…”
“He’s not asking the right questions, Your Honor. I want to fire him,” Bosa remained seated, rocking forward, resting his chin on his hand.
“So, we’re clear,” the judge addressed the lawyer, ignoring the defendant. “He’s requesting a Nelson Hearing?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“Mr. Bosa, I think this is unwise at best,” the judge finally looked at him. “Can you tell me why you’re making this request?”
“Yes, he refused to ask them a question.”
“Which one is that?”
“We need a fourth doctor hired,” Bosa avoided the question. “When all this happened, I was nuts. I hadn’t slept in seven years, and the voice was telling me what to do.”
“I need to remind you that this is a competency hearing, not a trial. We’re here today to determine if you’re fit to stand trial.”
“See, the thing is, Your Honor, my lawyer refuses to get them to admit I’m crazy. That’s why I want to fire him.”
To his credit, Judge Lloyd listened to this respectfully.
“Mr. Mosby, have you counseled your client as to the serious risk to his case?” he asked.
“Yes, Your Honor. I have repeatedly explained to Mr. Bosa that there’s no ethical way to get experts to testify to what they know isn’t true.”
“But, Your Honor, there’s a doctor in Jacksonville,” Bosa went on. “And if she’s brought in, she can—”
“Mr. Bosa, did you not approve the doctor your counsel hired?” the judge asked.
During all this, the state attorney watched on patiently, letting the absurdity play out.
“Yes, Your Honor, but that was before he didn’t tell the truth.”
“So I’m clear, Mr. Bosa, you want to fire your counsel. Do you have new counsel in mind?”
“I want to represent myself.”
About the Author
Greg Jolley earned a Master of Arts in Writing from the University of San
Francisco and lives in the very small town of Ormond Beach, Florida. When
not writing, he researches historical crime, primarily those of the 1800s.
Or goes surfing.
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