Ben kept his hands planted firmly on the table. He could object on grounds of relevance-because none of this was-but he knew that would gain him little ground with the jury. He would wait for something more important.
“That will never happen because on July thirteenth, in the dead of night, his life was stolen by this man.” Her arm shot back and pointed directly at Zak. “George Zakin killed Dwayne Gardiner-what’s more, killed him in perhaps the most gruesome, agonizing way you could imagine. I will warn you in advance-this is not a crime for the weak-stomached. When you hear what happened, you will be disturbed by it-perhaps more disturbed than you have been by anything you’ve heard before in your life.”
Ben shook his head. As if the crime wasn’t bad enough already, Granny was determined to melodramatize it, to build suspense, to ensure that they would be horrified when they finally heard the details.
“Why did he do it? you may be wondering. Why would anyone commit such a heinous crime against an innocent, hard-working man? Well, George Zakin is a member of an organization called Green Rage. I’ll bet you’ve heard of it. In fact, Mr. Zakin is the local leader of the group. Green Rage claims to be an environmental group, but its real purpose is to stir up controversy and turmoil by committing terroristic acts against loggers and logging companies.
“Green Rage came to town a few months ago, trying to stop the totally legal and federally approved logging of the Mount Crescent watershed. It seems the rule of law was of no importance to these Green Ragers; they were a law unto themselves. They began stealing equipment, sabotaging the mill. They even planted bombs on expensive logging equipment, blowing them up in dangerous high-octane explosions.”
She pivoted, adopting a somewhat more contemplative tone. “Now, I don’t know what you jurors think about people who use bombs. But in the wake of the World Trade Center and the hideous Oklahoma City tragedy, we in the law enforcement community are not very sympathetic to these tactics. But I’m not asking you to pass judgment on whether it’s acceptable to use terroristic tactics to achieve political goals.”
Like hell you’re not, Ben thought.
“I’m simply telling you that the evidence will show that these tactics were used by Green Rage, that it was in fact a disturbingly common practice for this team of elitist radicals. So it is not altogether surprising, if nonetheless tragic, that the tree cutter Dwayne Gardiner tried to start on the night of July thirteenth had a bomb planted in it, a bomb that was rigged to explode when the ignition was turned. A bomb planted by George Zakin.”
Granny kicked her head back, swishing her buoyant hair behind her shoulders, pressing her bosom forward ever so slightly. It seemed Granny was not opposed to using a hint of sex appeal to get her message across, either.
“You may be thinking-how do they know it was Zakin? Why not one of the other Green Ragers? Well, the truth is, some of the others may have been involved. In fact, some of them probably were, at least in the procurement of the bomb materials. We know these people have been stockpiling explosives for some time.”
She took a deep breath. “But we also know the man who planted the bomb was Mr. Zakin. Mr. Zakin has both experience and expertise with bombs. We know Zakin was in the forest at the time of the murder-quite a coincidence, don’t you think? Moreover, at the scene of the murder, we discovered actual physical evidence that proves Zakin is the culprit beyond a reasonable doubt. Zakin’s fingerprints on shards of exploded metal. Footprints. Dental analysis. And more.
“I know what some of you may be thinking. You’re wondering if perhaps the killing was an accident. Perhaps Zakin planted the bomb, but Gardiner only accidentally got in the way. You should be commended for these charitable thoughts, but unfortunately, the evidence will show otherwise. The evidence will show that Dwayne Gardiner was shot first-at near point-blank range-before the bomb went off. And may I also point out that this was not a passive bomb. This was a bomb rigged to explode when someone turned the ignition. And that’s only part of the reason we are so confident this crime was not committed inadvertently.”
She turned away from the jury as if lost in thought. In fact, Ben realized, she was drawing out the suspense, biding her time before she delivered her clincher. “You see, I’ve only told you part of the motive for Zakin’s damnable act of homicide. There was the environmental aspect, yes, but there was also a … personal aspect. Witnesses will take the stand and tell you that Zakin knew the late Mr. Gardiner, that they had previously had a very public, very violent conflict. Zakin had a personal reason for wanting Dwayne Gardiner dead-a reason so abominable it will shock you when you learn the truth.”
Ben had to hand it to her. Granny was like the Agatha Christie of trial lawyers. She intimated everything while telling nothing. She was saving all her best bits for maximum impact. The jury would be hanging breathlessly in anticipation every time she put a witness on the stand, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for the grisly truth, the untold secrets, the smoking guns, to be revealed.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, when you have had an opportunity to consider all the evidence, all the testimony and all the exhibits, I am confident you will find what we at the DA.’s office have known for some time-that George Zakin killed Dwayne Gardiner in cold blood. But when you deliver that verdict, your job will be only half done. At that time, you will be asked to determine the sentence to be rendered in judgment for this horrible crime. I warn you now, I will be asking for the most extreme sanction. But then isn’t this a most extreme crime? Certainly the D.A.’s office thinks it is. Certainly Dwayne Gardiner’s wife and his now fatherless little boy think it is.
She paused, allowing the jury to conjure up the image of that grief-stricken family before proceeding. “But most important, by the conclusion of the evidence, I know you will believe it is. And therefore, I know you will do what is right. What is necessary. Each and every one of you.”
She lowered her head, almost as if in prayer. “Thank you very much for your attention.”
Chapter 38
For Ben, the worst part of seeing Granny sit down was not simply that she had done such a spectacularly effective job. The worst part was knowing that this meant it was time for him to stand. And talk.
He heard Zak whispering in his ear. “Wow. That was pretty damn good. You think the jury bought all that?”
“Hard to say,” Ben answered, expressing doubts he didn’t really possess. “What did she mean about you having a personal motive?”
“Beats me,” Zak said. “I think she’s pulling rabbits out of her hat. Probably making it up as she goes along.”
No, Ben mused, Granny was much too good a prosecutor for that. She knew that if she promised the jury something in opening, they’d be waiting for it during the trial. And if it didn’t appear, they’d take it as a sign that either she was lying or her case was falling apart.
She wouldn’t make that mistake. She wouldn’t promise anything unless she was sure she could deliver. But what was it?
“Mr. Kincaid,” Judge Pickens said, “would you like to make your opening statement now, or reserve it until the start of your case?”
Like he would be crazy enough to let Granny’s diatribe go unrefuted for ten seconds. “I’ll open now, your honor.”