Rules of Evidence

A Black defense lawyer, hired to defend a racist policeman indicted for murder, delves into a world of drug dealers, informers, and crooked cops to get at the truth and manipulate the trial accordingly

Just as cops break the rules to fight crime in the streets, lawyers may disregard them completely in their search for truth in the courtroom--and feel pious about doing it. Raymond Boudro, the foremost black defense attorney in San Antonio, Tex., champions this dubious approach in Brandon's ( Fade the Heat ) fifth novel of legal suspense. When Detective Mike Stennett, a rough white undercover narc and reputed racist, is arrested for the fatal beating of a black junkie, Raymond takes on the high-profile case and upends many of his professional beliefs in his quest to make certain his client's innocence. Although the novel is suspenseful and savvy in its portrayal of subtle legal strategies in and out of the courtroom, its credibility sours when that subtlety is abandoned. For example, during the trial, to facilitate his search for the facts, Raymond discards the procedural rules, melodramatically offering prosecutor Becky Schirhart a free hand: "There are no rules . . . . Only games have rules." Brandon develops an interesting contrast between Stennett, the unsavory but devoted cop, and Raymond, the skillful and competitive attorney; each considers himself rightful protector of the crime-ridden East Side where both grew up. But the plot hinges on Raymond's unconvincing transformation from wily professional to quixotic truth-seeker, so that the improbable ending cannot help but disappoint.
Copyright 1991 Reed Business Information, Inc.

Black San Antonio lawyer Raymond Boudro takes on the defense of Mike Stennett, a racist cop who's been his longtime adversary, when Stennett's accused of fatally beating Gordon ``Hoss'' Frazier. Raymond has no trouble breaking prosecutor Rebecca Schirhart's case, but he's not happy about the prospect of victory, as evidence mounts that shiftless Frazier had lately begun to settle down (steady job and woman, care of her abused daughter), and that Stennett, who's not getting much backing from the P.D., has certainly been beating somebody recently. The resulting yarn is good enough for a one-night stand, though the sparse story is bellied out with hints of subplots (Raymond's adroit handling of an earlier cops-vs.-blacks case, Becky's futile romance with corporate lawyer Donny Summerford) that don't go anywhere, and Raymond's lethargic ambivalence slows down the action without deepening its resonance. The deft final twist is the best part of this competent but disappointing sequel to Brandon's Edgar-nominated Fade the Heat (1990). -- Copyright ©1991, Kirkus Associates, LP. All rights reserved.