'I told you she never hurt nobody in her life, too.'
'You surely did. Then you told me something like, "It was them hurt her." Isn't that correct?'
'I don't recall that.'
'Then I asked you who "them" was, who were those other people who had harmed her in the past. Isn't that correct?'
'Objection, counsel's testifying, Your Honor. The witness already stated she didn't remember,' Marvin said.
'Where are you going with this, Mr Holland?' the judge said.
'The witness obviously has hostile feelings toward the defendant. However, in a previous conversation she indicated her niece had been injured in some fashion by people other than Lucas Smothers.'
'There's no evidence of this conversation. Mr Holland is putting words in the witness's mouth and then questioning her about them. It's bizarre,' Marvin said.
'I'll give you a short piece of rope, Mr Holland,' the judge said.
'Ms Hazlitt, did you tell me people other than Lucas Smothers had harmed your niece?'
'Objection, your honor. He's doing it again,' Marvin said.
'Sustained. Last warning, counselor,' the judge said.
'I apologize, your honor. I'll rephrase the question. Ms Hazlitt, did you indicate someone other than Lucas had harmed Roseanne in the past?' I said.
'I don't recall that,' the aunt replied.
'You didn't refer to her male friends as people who had "gotten the scent of it", or as "dogs sniffing around a brooder house"?'
Marvin was on his feet again, but the judge spoke before he could.
'That's it. Both of you approach the bench,' she said. She leaned forward and covered the microphone with her palm. 'You two guys are starting to piss me off, particularly you, Mr Holland. This isn't the trial of the century. You got problems with each other, settle them outside. And you, Mr Holland, either you join the Screen Actors Guild or put an end to these diddle-doo theatrics. Are we clear on this?'
At lunchtime Lucas, Temple, and I walked across the square to the Mexican grocery store and ordered takeout from the small café in back, then carried it back to my office. Vernon Smothers caught up with us on the sidewalk. He had put on a tie and coat and white shirt, and his face was sweating in the sun.
'What's going on? When you gonna put on them damn deputies destroyed evidence?' he said.
'I'll talk with you about it later, Vernon,' I said.
'That's my son. I'm supposed to figure out his trial by watching the evening news?'
I glanced at Temple. She touched Lucas on the arm and walked with him into the foyer and up the stairs of my building.
'I can't call the deputy I need. Why? I don't even know where she is. Why? She shot two guys out at the skeet club. You want me to go on?' I said.
I expected his face to tighten with anger, as it always did when Vernon heard something he didn't like. But he surprised me. He closed his eyes and rubbed his fingers hard in the middle of his brow.
'I screwed up again, didn't I? I should have listened to you and left things alone. I just ain't good at hearing what people tell me sometime,' he said.
'You were doing what you thought was right. It's not your fault, Vernon.'
He looked back at me uncertainly, as though I had spoken to him in a foreign tongue.
Upstairs, I stood at the window and looked at the courthouse square, the dust on the trees and the heat waves bouncing off the sidewalks. Lucas was eating at the side of my desk in his shirtsleeves, his cuffs rolled back over his forearms.
'Ms Hazlitt's testimony presents a little problem for us,' I said to him.
'You mean when she said Roseanne thought it was me made her pregnant?'
'Yeah, that's part of it.'
'But the autopsy showed she wasn't pregnant,' he said.
'The jury just heard a story about a homicide victim who was sexually involved with only one individual-you. Five members of that jury are over sixty years old. Older people tend to listen to other older people. Are you with me?'
He set down the taco he was eating. The glare through the slats in the blinds made his eyes water. 'I ain't sure. I mean, if she wasn't pregnant-'
'It is also easier for the jury to identify with the victim when they believe the victim to be an innocent person, totally undeserving of such a brutal end,' I said. 'Then the jury gets mad and wants to bash the betrayer, the sexual exploiter, the predator in our midst. Marvin Pomroy is going to talk about Roseanne's innocence and your guilt, her vulnerability… her trusting attitude… and your depravity.'
Lucas nodded his head as though he understood. But his eyes were as clear as glass, and he had no comprehension of what a good prosecutor like Marvin Pomroy could do to him.
'We need to show the jury the videotape of Roseanne smoking a joint and taking off her clothes. They'll also see the kind of kids she hung around with,' I said.
He pushed his plate away with the heel of his hand, his eyes blinking.
'The tape simply shows the world she lived in, Lucas,' Temple said. 'Dope and booze and getting it on with lots of guys. We're not knocking her. That's just the way it was.'
'She might have done all them things you say, but that don't mean she wasn't a good girl,' he said.
'That's true. But somebody else killed her, Lucas. Maybe his face is on that tape,' I said.
His right hand was clenched on the back of his left wrist. His throat was splotched with color.
'I ain't going along with this,' he said.
'Excuse me?' I said.
'I was sleeping with Roseanne and told you I didn't hardly know her. That makes me a liar and a coward. I ain't gonna get myself off by seeing her tore down in front of all them people.'
'You really want to go to prison? Is that what you're telling me?' I said.
'Maybe I deserve to be there.'
'What?' I said.
'You say Darl doped me. Maybe I was just drunk. I'll never know the truth about what I done that night.'
He was bent over in the chair, his head hung forward. The glare through the blinds made strips of light on his back.
'Lucas, we need to clear something up here. There's only one person in this room running your defense,' Temple said.
But I motioned at her with two fingers. She looked at me with a puzzled expression, then chewed on the corner of her lip and stared silently out the window.
That evening I took off my shirt and hung it on a fence rail and raked out the chicken run and horse lot and dumped a load of manure and decayed straw in the compost pile, then filled a bucket with water from the windmill pipe and began digging a line of postholes so I could reset the rail fence and enlarge the lot for Beau. It was a lovely evening. The sun had dipped below the hills, its last rays breaking into pink wagon spokes against the sky. The wind was blowing in the trees and I could smell wildflowers in the fields and bream spawning under the lily pads out in the tank. I almost didn't hear Brian Wilcox's car crunching up my drive.
He got out of the car and walked through both sets of barn doors into the lot. Behind him, I could see the Mexican drug agent, Felix Ringo, sitting in the passenger seat of the car, the window down to catch the breeze, his tropical hat on the back of his head.
Wilcox's mouth was painted with an ironic smile.
'You hang a revolver on a fence post while you work?' he said.
'Some guys blindsided me out here one night. I hate repeat situations,' I said.
'You know what quid pro quo is, right, one thing for another?… I'm doing you a big one, Holland, but I want something in return.'
'Go fuck yourself.'
'That's kind of what I expected from you, but here it is, anyway. Mary Beth is coming back to give you the testimony you need, but you'd better not drag your shit into our investigation again.'
'Meaning?'
'Our sun-darkened friend out there in the car is a valuable man. He doesn't get compromised.'
I pulled the handles of the posthole digger out of the hole and knocked the dirt free from the blades, then tipped more water from the bucket into the hole.