‘The judge and I are getting along famously. I’ve got something here for you. You’ll be angry when I hand it over, but I assure you, on my professional word, that this is the first time I’ve been in a position to serve this.’
Sitting on the other side of Dreyer was a small pile of pages. Maybe a hundred, at most. They’d been placed on the bench face down, so that no casual passer-by could see the title of the document.
‘Hal Cohen brought this in. I saw it three days ago. This is a Xerox. The cover sheet is a report from a Sylvia Sagrada. It’s legit. I’m introducing it as evidence and I’m calling Sagrada to testify.’
I took it from him, and without looking at it I gave it to Harry.
‘How long have you been holding onto this, really?’ I asked.
‘I only saw it three days ago. I didn’t serve it on you until I knew it was genuine. Ms. Sagrada says it’s the real thing. Hal Cohen, for what it’s worth, would’ve given testimony as to how he’d come by it. But he’s not here, is he?’
‘Eddie—’
‘Wait a second, Harry,’ I said, ‘Dreyer, you expect me to believe this crock of shit? This is an ambush. You don’t do this in a murder trial.’
‘Like you don’t introduce your own hair-fiber report until you begin to cross-examine the state’s witness?’ said Dreyer.
He got to his feet. ‘I’m telling you the truth. Cohen gave this to my office a few days ago. I had to be sure it was real before I served it. If it was a hoax, I wouldn’t use it and we wouldn’t be having this conversation. Be ready. I’m calling Sylvia Sagrada to the witness box in ten minutes.’
We both stood, facing one another. I was a little taller, but Dreyer stood straight and tried to stretch to my height. His eyes locked on mine. He shot his cuffs, puffed out his chest and the corner of his mouth curled into something approaching a snarl. If I didn’t know better I would’ve sworn he was about to start a fight.
I looked down at his feet. He was on his toes.
‘If you want to intimidate me you might think about a bigger heel on those Hush Puppies, pal.’
‘I don’t like you, Mr. Flynn.’
‘I’m not crazy about you either. You’ve deliberately gotten close to a right-wing, racist judge just to advance your career and get an easier ride in court. You make me sick.’
A mocking laugh rang out of Dreyer.
‘I don’t need Stone for this to go my way. Between you and me, I’m glad I didn’t use the polygraph tests. Your client’s result was inconclusive. I guess the case law excluding lie-detector experts is still good. This evidence buries your client. She’s the killer. I think her sister had something to do with it too. I think they both killed him. Maybe I can’t prove that, but at least I can put your client behind bars where she belongs.’
He looked over my shoulder at Harry and said, ‘Happy reading.’
FORTY-FIVE
KATE
Kate and Bloch read the report from Sylvia Sagrada in five minutes, then flicked through the attached Xeroxed pages. Bloch said nothing. When Kate was about to ask her a question, Bloch simply shook her head. She was processing. Too early for questions. But Kate saw the look in Bloch’s eyes. This was the piece of evidence they’d been expecting. She’d told Bloch all about the conversation with Flynn. There was a killer moving amongst them, killing witnesses, manipulating the case, with a surefire piece of evidence planted to get them an acquittal, and their sister a conviction.
Kate explained the report to Alexandra, and watched the light come on in Alexandra’s eyes.
‘I knew it. I knew this would happen. Oh, thank you, God,’ said Alexandra, her fingers laced together, her head tilted back and eyes to the ceiling. This new evidence would put Sofia away for murder. Alexandra knew it.
‘This is your get-out-of-jail-free card,’ said Kate.
‘It’s the truth,’ said Alexandra. ‘Finally, the court will hear the truth.’
Bloch shook her head.
They went back into the courtroom, Alexandra almost bouncing along in her heels, a new hope alive in her face. Kate felt like she wanted to be sick. There was a tightness in her stomach that spread to her throat. She’d called it all wrong. She was representing the killer. Kate swallowed down the bile building in her throat. She told herself she should have known it was her who was representing the killer. Eddie Flynn was too experienced to let himself get played by a client. They took their places at the defense table and waited. The judge returned, and Dreyer said he was calling a new witness. Sylvia Sagrada. Eddie got up and objected, but Stone waved it away, dismissively. He would allow the new witness and assess the evidence for admissibility.
Kate felt like she was strapped into a fast-moving car. Her arms pinned, the steering spinning left and right, out of control, her foot flat on the gas pedal as the car veered toward a solid brick wall. She opened her eyes, took a breath.
She’d talked to Flynn about what they would do. Kate couldn’t be a part of framing an innocent woman and letting a murderer go free. When she’d made that deal with Flynn, she never thought it would be Alexandra who was the killer moving the pieces on the board. Kate couldn’t be a part of that. She would no longer do anything to assist her client in getting off. If she tried to fire the client, then she would only make things more difficult. The judge probably wouldn’t let her walk away from a live murder trial. Even if the judge did allow her to exit the trial, that didn’t solve the problem. All she could do was make sure she didn’t become part of the weapon used to beat an innocent Sofia Avellino into a murder conviction.
The courtroom was silent. She felt Bloch nudge her in the ribs. She looked up, and Bloch pointed at the judge.
‘Miss Brooks,’ said Judge Stone, ‘I hope you’re still with us. Tell me, have you taken your client’s instructions on this matter? I take it you have no objection to this witness?’
She didn’t even have to turn her head. In her peripheral vision, Kate could just see Alexandra shaking her head, whispering ‘No, not at all,’ under her breath.
‘No, Your Honor. My client does not object at this time,’ said Kate.
‘Good, then proceed, Mr. Dreyer,’ said Stone.
‘Thank you, Your Honor. The People call Doctor Sylvia Sagrada.’
A petite woman in a gray pantsuit came forward. Her heels thocked on the floor, her long hair was so dark it shone under the ceiling lights. When she took the oath, Kate saw that she was younger than Kate had expected, and had an aura about her. There was something authoritative in her speech. Firm. When Doc Sagrada said something, you believed it.
‘Doctor, that title, let’s just clear this up for the jury – you’re not a medical doctor, is that correct?’
‘I have a doctorate in Forensic Document Examination and Comparison, from the University of Mexico. I’m currently based at NYU.’
‘You were sent a brief by my office. Please tell the jury what that brief contained.’
‘A memo, a toxicology report on Frank Avellino, several pieces of contemporary correspondence we know to have come from Frank Avellino, and this,’ she said, holding something aloft.
Kate saw a small black book in Sagrada’s hand.