Page 48 of Fish in a Barrel
Ellery nodded. “That’s fair. I think after Jackson’s testimony, they will probably break for deliberation.” He gave a game smile. “I think they’re swinging our way,” he said hopefully.
“I don’t see how they can’t!” Annette Frazier protested. “The ADA even agrees we should drop the charges.”
“What’s right and obvious doesn’t always get fair play in the justice system,” Ellery said grimly. “We need our A game until the bitter end.” He looked at Jackson then, and Jackson could read pleading in his eyes. “Speaking of which—”
Jackson’s back ached, the skin and muscle exhausted from holding itself together while he was maintaining his rigid posture. His head ached, the joy of the muddy vitamin coffee having worn off in the sympathy sweat of watching Cody Gabriel testify. Still, he tried a perky smile and a waggle of the eyebrows.
“Should I strip off my sport coat before I go up to the stand?” he asked.
A double line formed on Ellery’s forehead, and Jackson knew he was a heartbeat away from calling the whole thing off.
“C’mon, Ellery,” Jackson baited. “You know you want to.”
Ellery took a deep breath and said shortly, “Henry, check his shirt first. The effect will be lost if he’s bleeding through.”
Jackson turned slightly and let Henry lift his sport coat from his back. Henry sucked in a breath, and Jackson knew the answer.
“Leaving the sport coat on?” he asked.
“It’s a good thing it’s an old suit,” Henry said.
“I like this suit,” Jackson replied mildly, turning back and smoothing the coat down.
“I’ll get you a new one just like it,” Ellery growled under his breath. “Are you sure you’re up to it?”
Jackson glanced over to where the four police officers were shifting in their seats, whispering unhappily to each other.
“Try to stop me,” he said, and he met Ellery’s eyes, letting Ellery see the rage he kept tamped down much of the time.
Ellery gave a grim nod. “I’ll get you a real coffee tomorrow,” he said. “A ginormous frappe—no vitamins this time, I swear.”
Jackson smiled tightly and let the bubbles of anger in his blood settle back down to a simmer. “I’ll hold you to that,” he said. There was a rustle up at the front of the courtroom, and the bailiff said, “All rise!”
After Judge Brentwood was seated, they all sat back down. Ellery looked back at Jackson, who winked impudently, and then turned toward the bench.
Vitamins
“I CALLJackson Rivers, investigator for the firm of Cramer and Henderson, Attorneys at Law, to the stand.”
Jackson stood and moved up to the witness stand, hiding his wince as he raised his right hand to be sworn in. Ellery could see, in his mind’s eye, the extent of the long, irregular wound on his back, the more than fifty stitches that tracked their way through a rough patchwork of former scars. Once the knife had gotten past Jackson’s rib cage, the assailant had dug in, but had been too close to Jackson’s side to catch an organ or anything else important. Still, the gouge could be seen. It had been bleeding for most of that morning. It was probably bleeding now.
Jackson made himself comfortable at the witness stand, although comfortable still involved keeping his back ramrod straight and his shoulders even, probably to reduce the pull on his stitches. He wasn’t going to be fully comfortable unless he was lying down, probably on his stomach or his other side, hopefully asleep.
But Ellery worked very hard not to let any of those thoughts walk across his face. The legal community might know who Jackson Rivers was to Ellery Cramer, but it was imperative the jury not guess.
“Mr. Rivers,” Ellery said, keeping his voice level and measured. “Cody Gabriel’s testimony tells us he was rousted by the police department from a homeless encampment and put on a bus and driven over a hundred and fifty miles away to Redding last night. Were you with him?”
“I was.” Jackson leaned back in his chair, putting his weight on his elbows and crossing his legs. It was theatrical; it made him look completely relaxed.
“Can you tell us why you were there?”
“Well, I wanted to prove Ezekiel Halliday hadn’t committed assault,” he said. “And if his disability and eye-witness testimony from Effie Kleinman wouldn’t do it, I needed to find the person whohadcommitted the assault. We interviewed the victim—and we were the first. Her story pointed to an undercover cop. We didn’t know his name yet, but I have some sources in the department, and it took me about fifteen seconds to get a name and a location.”
“Why is it important that it didn’t take you long?” Ellery asked, blessing Jackson for the opening.
“Because it was an open secret. I passed on Ms. Frazier’s description and said it was a cop who might have been under for too long and bam! Name and locale. One more call and I had a picture. So I went to talk to Mr. Gabriel.”
“Why didn’t you turn this information over to the police and ask for their help?”
