First degree - By David Rosenfelt Page 0,34

murder in the first degree. When it comes to burns, first degree is not that big a deal. Among murder charges, it's real bad. Simply put, if Laurie is convicted, she will never experience another day of freedom.

It would shake up anyone, but when called upon to give her plea, Laurie says, "Absolutely not guilty, Your Honor." She says it with conviction and power and confidence. It's another reminder that she is one tough lady.

The judge then brings up the matter of bail, which Dylan vigorously opposes. "The defendant is financially self-sufficient, and as a former police officer, is familiar with types and means of flight. Additionally, and even more significantly, the brutal nature of the crime is such that freeing the defendant would represent a serious risk to the community. Setting bail in this circumstance would be a substantial departure from precedent, and the facts simply do not support such a finding."

"Mr. Carpenter?"

I stand. "Thank you, Your Honor. Laurie Collins was a decorated police officer who left the department voluntarily when she felt that it was not adhering to sufficiently high moral and ethical standards. She has since distinguished herself as a self-employed private investigator, and I can personally vouch for her continued impeccable ethics and actions.

"Her entire life to this point has been dedicated to serving this community. She has never been charged with jaywalking, no less a major felony. Simply because she is the latest unwilling contestant in Mr. Campbell's prosecutorial game show, Suspect for a Day, that is no reason to deprive her of her liberty."

Dylan is back on his feet. "I object to these personal attacks, Your Honor."

"Sustained. Let's tone it down a bit, Mr. Carpenter," the judge says.

"Sorry, Your Honor. But to call Laurie Collins a flight risk is particularly absurd. People with her courage and character don't run from unfounded charges such as these; they stay and fight them."

The judge does not look convinced. "Bail in these situations is very unusual, Mr. Carpenter."

I'm afraid I'm losing her. Kevin nods slightly in my direction; we have an alternative plan if things look like they're going badly, which they do.

"Your Honor," I say, "we would propose a significant bail and house arrest. Ms. Collins could be electronically monitored if necessary. And if you feel that is insufficient, a police guard could be posted outside the house, which if you so ordered, the defense would pay for."

The judge seems intrigued by this, and I can see her tentatively pulling back from the brink of ruling against us. "Mr. Campbell," she says, "what's your response to that? It would seem to eliminate both the risk of flight and any danger to the community."

It is no surprise that Dylan disagrees completely. "Your Honor, we are talking about a vicious and premeditated crime against a police officer. House arrest is simply not a substitute for prison. This is what prisons are for."

I stand again. "Your Honor, I arrived in court a few minutes after Mr. Campbell today. Was there a trial and conviction that I missed? Prisons are for criminals. Mr. Campbell still must prove Laurie Collins is a criminal, and he will not come close."

The judge nods and makes her ruling. "Bail will be set at five hundred thousand dollars. The accused will be subject to house arrest and electronically monitored. If the state wants to post a guard outside the house, it will be at their own expense."

I lean over to Laurie and whisper. "You okay if it's my house?"

She smiles slightly. "Only on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays."

I fight the urge to return the smile, then ask the judge to allow her house arrest to take place at my house, explaining that it will considerably increase her ability to aid in her own defense, and that as a law enforcement officer and investigator, that help is particularly valuable. The judge agrees, and Dylan doesn't bother to fight it.

"You can arrange bail with the court clerk," the judge says, and then adjourns the hearing.

I immediately walk toward the clerk, passing right by Dylan as I do. "Dylan," I say, "you're an expert on this stuff. You think they want cash or a check?"

He doesn't answer, so I guess I'll just have to ask the clerk.

LAURIE ISN'T RELEASED FROM THE JAIL UNTIL three hours after the hearing. They blame processing delays, and I'm just about ready to burn the place down when I finally see her. A guard is assigned to drive her to my house so he can