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The witness is excused, the judge announced.
Stafford remained in his chair, his face frozen with disbelief. He d been
coveting this moment his opportunity for revenge against Jack Swyteck, the
lawyer who d humiliated him. The last laugh was supposed to have been his. But
a lawyer had humiliated him again. He d been more than humiliated. This time
he wasn t just the stupid cop who d botched the investigation. He d been
painted as thebad cop who d done the deed. He d been pushed too far and he
wasn t going to just sit there and take it.
It s irrelevant, you know, he groused at Manny, as if no one else were in
the courtroom.
You are excused, the judge instructed the witness in a firm voice.
It wasn t my silencer that was used to kill Goss, he said angrily.
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Detective, the judge rebuked him. But Stafford was determined to have his
say.
It was the silencer we found in Swyteck s convertible!
Detective! the judge banged her gavel.
Swyteck s silencer was used on Goss, he shouted, and he used a silencer to
kill Gina Terisi, too!
Your Honor! Manny bellowed, rising to his feet Your Honor, may I approach
the bench? I have a motion to make.
The judge held up her hand, stopping Manny in his tracks. She knew what he
wanted that she declare a mistrial. And if all the other evidence against Jack
Swyteck hadn t been so strong, she would have done it. But she was not going
to throw out the state s entire case just because one witness had lost his
temper and spouted something he shouldn t have.
Save your motion, Mr. Cardenal, she said. Then she turned toward the
jurors. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, she said in a very serious tone,
I am instructing you to disregard that last outburst. Those remarks are not
evidence in this case. As I instructed you earlier, you are not to draw any
inference whatsoever from the fact that Ms. Terisi did not return to the
courtroom to complete her testimony against the defendant.
Jack s heart sank as, yet again, he listened to the judge deliver the dreaded
curative instruction. It was any criminal defendant s nightmare. In theory,
the instruction was supposed to cure any mistake at trial by telling the
jury to disregard it. In reality it was, as lawyers often said, like trying to
unring a bell. Jack knew the bottom line. Manny s beautiful
cross-examination had been ruined. Theonly thing the jury would remember was
what the judge insisted they forget.
As for you, Mr. McCue, the judge s reprimand continued, Detective Stafford
is your witness, and I m holding you responsible, at least in part.
Five-hundred-dollar fine! she barked. And Detective Stafford, you re an
experienced officer of the law. You know better. Why don t you spend a night
in the county jail to think about what you ve done. And next time, she
warned, pointing menacingly with her gavel, I won t be so lenient. Bailiff,
she said with finality, take the witness away.
The bailiff stepped forward and led Stafford from the witness stand. He
should have been ashamed, but he was looking at Jack and smiling. Jack looked
away, but Stafford wasn t going to let him off easy. He stopped, rested his
hand on the table at which Jack was seated and looked him right in the eye.
I ll save a seat for ya, Swyteck, he whispered, loud enough only for Jack
and the bailiff to hear.
Detective, the judge said sternly. On your way!
Jack looked up at Stafford but said nothing. The detective flashed a thin
smile, then the bailiff tugged his arm and they headed for the exit.
Mr. McCue, the judge intoned, do you have any more witnesses?
McCue rose slowly, resting his fists on his chest with contentment, his
thumbs tucked inside the lapels. Your Honnuh, he said, speaking like a
Southern gentlemen, on that note, the State most respectfully rests.
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Very well, she announced. We ll reconvene tomorrow, nine o clock sharp.
Mr. Cardenal: If you plan to put on a defense, be prepared to proceed. If not,
we ll conclude with closing arguments. Court s in recess, she said, then
banged her gavel.
The crowd rose at the bailiff s instruction and stood in silence as the jury
filed out of the courtroom. Jack and Manny exchanged glances as the judge
stepped down from the bench. The irony of her comments wasn t lost on either
of them. The fact was, as they both so painfully knew, that it wasn t at all
clear the defensehad a defense.
Chapter 43
"
At six o clock the next morning, Governor Harold Swyteck was in his robe and
slippers, shaving before a steamy bathroom mirror, when he heard a ring on the
portable phone in his briefcase. It was the same phone he d been given in
Miami s Bayfront Park. Realizing who was calling, the governor gave a start
and nicked himself with the blade.
Annoyed, he dabbed his shaving wound with a washcloth, then dashed from the
bathroom, grabbed the phone from his briefcase, and disappeared into the
walk-in closet, so as not to wake his sleeping wife. Hello, he said,
sounding slightly out of breath.
Me again, Governor, came the thick but now familiar voice.
Harry bristled with anger, but he wasn t totally surprised by the call.
Clever as this maniac was, he seemed to thrive on letting his victims know how
much he enjoyed their suffering, like a gardener who planted a rare seed and
then had to dig it up to make sure it was growing.
What do you want now? he answered. A pair of argyle socks to go with your
wing tips?
My, my, came a condescending reply. Aren t we testy this morning. And all
just because you re gonna have to sign your own son s death warrant.
My son isnot going to be convicted.
Oh, no? Seems to me that his last chance at getting off is lying on a slab
in the morgue. I m sure you ve heard that the fox who testified against him
had him over for a little chat and then ended up a bloody mess on her bedroom
floor. Too bad, because if you happened to be the eavesdropping type he
snickered, remembering how he d perched outside her sliding-glass doors you d
know that she was going to get back on the stand and bail him out of trouble.
I knew it was you, Harry said in a voice that mixed frustration with
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