Page 122 of The Wrong Side of the Law

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Emily

“Idon’t know about this, Emily.” Mark Anderson is skeptical of Gabriel’s desire to bring in a surprise witness, and understandably so.

“I know. In your shoes, I’d have some concerns, too.” I shake my head. “Definite concerns.”

“You trust him?”

I bite my lower lip, staring down at a pink nail sticking out of my open-toe shoes. The polish is chipped. Why does that matter? It’s not important right now.

“I do,” I finally answer.

“Why?”

“I…” Why did I leave the house with my toenails like that? I should have fixed them. “I don’t really want to talk about that, Mark. I’m sorry. But I trust him. I owe him that trust.”

“Even with all these cameras around?” Mark waves a hand around the courtroom, where all the major networks—even the cable channels—have set up camera crews. “I’ve heard the rumors about Gabriel Cooper. He’s after the SA’s office. You really think he’s going to let himself look stupid in front of this many cameras, when there’s an election coming up?”

“I don’t think he’s planning to look stupid, Mark.” I wish I knew what heisplanning, though. “Whatever he’s going to do, he believes it’s going to help.”

The judge’s entrance cuts Mark off before he can say anything else.

“ASA Cooper,” Judge Merryweather says, “I believe you have one more witness yet uncalled on your list?”

“I do, Your Honor, but I’d like to call a different witness first. One who’s not actually on the list, but I believe has relevant information.”

Merryweather drums his fingers on the bench and looks to Mark for a response. Mark turns to glance at me, an unspokenare you really sure about thisplain in his eyes.

After a deep breath and a long, slow exhale I nod my head. Yeah. Do it. I’m sure.

Mark stands before addressing the court. His hands are folded behind his back, but I can still see his fingers fidgeting nervously.

“Defense has no objections, Your Honor.”

Judge Merryweather looks back and forth between the prosecution and defense counsels several times, with eyes narrowed and lips set in a thin, suspicious line. It’s understandable, really: he’s probably never seen another case where the prosecution and defense were so in tune with each other, almost as if they were cooperating to reach the same goal.

Of course, he doesn’t realize that we are.

The judge’s eyes flick in a different direction, toward something at the back of the room, and his brows lift in curiosity.

What’s over there? I crane my neck to see.

John Whitehall is over there. And he looks pissed. The State Attorney’s face is dark red, contrasting starkly with the perfectly-coiffed crown of white hair, and thunderclouds heavy with held-in lightning roll through his eyes. And because he’s only a spectator at the trial, he can’t even speak up in protest.

“Proceed, then, Mister Cooper,” the judge orders.

“Thank you, Your Honor,” Gabriel says, rising half out of his chair. “The prosecution calls Marie Jean-Jacques to the stand.”

The new witness—a lovely woman, perhaps in her early thirties—walks up the aisle and takes her place on the stand. A brilliant smile flashes from her deep mahogany face as the bailiff swears her in. I don’t recognize the name or the face but Frank perks right up when he sees her, leaning over to whisper in Mark’s ear, but I can’t hear what he’s saying.

“Ms. Jean-Jacques,” he begins, “for the record, what is your occupation?”

“I’m the general manager of the Marquee Theater,” she answers, ribbons of France and West Africa and the Caribbean running through her voice.

Interesting. There’s no need for Gabriel to call the manager for the venue where Frank was arrested. Though we hadn’t discussed it yet, after yesterday’s testimony by the K-9 officer we would certainly have sent her a subpoena. I can’t imagine what he’s thinking: she’s plainly a witness more useful in provingourcase thanhis. Is he going to just blatantly torpedo his own case?

Maybe he reallyisplanning to look like an idiot in front of the cameras? No, that’s not possible. He said this would be best foreveryone, so that means there’s an angle in it for him, too, not just for Frank. But I just can’t see what it is.

---