She rustled around in her leather satchel, then drew out a file folder.
“We’ve prepared this motion to amend the witness list, your honor, and I filed it on my way back to the courtroom.” She handed a copy to the judge, then to Ben. “I know this is irregular-”
“Irregular?” Ben barked. “It’s outrageous!”
“But we simply had no choice,” Granny urged. “And when you hear what he has to say, your honor, I think you’ll agree that justice is best served by letting him speak.”
“Your honor,” Ben cut in, “I must object to this in the strongest possible way. This is trial by ambush! We’ve had no time to prepare.”
Judge Pickens held up his hand, his signal that Solon was about to speak. “I’m going to let the man have his say.”
“But your honor!”
Pickens looked at Ben sternly. “I’ve ruled, Kincaid, so stop arguing. If you need extra time to prepare your cross-examination, I’ll give it to you. If you need any other accommodation, I’ll consider it. I’m sympathetic-this is an unusual situation. But Granny’s right-we don’t serve justice by silencing important witnesses. I’ll let him speak, then let you do whatever you need to do to have a fair opportunity to cross.”
“Your honor, this is reversible error!”
“I don’t think so. I’m sure Granny has documented the fact that the witness arrived at the last minute”-Granny nodded-” and under those circumstances, there’s precedent for allowing him to testify, so long as the defense is treated fairly. And that’s exactly what I’m doing. Now stop arguing and let’s get on with the show.”
Ben returned to defendant’s table, a grim expression set on his face. Critical information, Granny had said. Rick had critical information about this case. What could it be?
“What’s going on?” Zak asked, yanking Ben’s shoulder. “He’s not going to testify against me, is he?”
Ben nodded curtly.
“Would you state your name, please?” Granny asked, after Rick was sworn.
“Rick Collier. That’s short for Richard.” Ben noted that Rick was pointedly not looking toward defendant’s table.
“And what do you do for a living?”
Rick shrugged. “Well, it’s not much of a living, but I’m currently working in the Green Rage organization.”
“Really? So you worked with George Zakin?”
“Extensively. I was generally considered the next in the chain of leadership. After Zak.”
“What’s going on here?” Zak whispered in Ben’s ear. “He can’t testify against me. He’s my friend!”
I wonder, Ben thought silently. I just wonder.
Granny continued her direct examination. “Would you say you spoke with Mr. Zakin on a regular basis?”
“Oh, yeah.” He flipped his ponytail back. “Like every day.”
“About Green Rage matters?”
“Sure. But not only that. We confided in each other, you know? We told secrets.”
Secrets. The word carved out a hollow space in Ben’s chest. He didn’t like the sound of that at all.
“Would you say Mr. Zakin was a dedicated environmentalist?”
“Oh, yeah. Absolutely. And then some. He was always pushing. Always urging us to do a little more.”
“A little more … what?”
Rick shifted his weight. He was still studiously not looking toward defendant’s table. “Well, Zak’s favorite line was ‘It’s not enough to talk the talk. You gotta walk the walk.’ ”
“Walk the walk,” Granny echoed. “And what exactly did that mean?”
“It meant take action. It’s true. People in the environmental world tend to gripe a lot about everything that’s wrong, but they’re hesitant to do anything about it. But not Zak. He was always ready to take action to promote the cause. He was willing to do anything. Absolutely anything.”
“Like planting bombs?” Granny suggested.
“Objection,” Ben said. “Leading.”
Judge Pickens waved his hand in the air, as if he thought this objection was the most trivial annoyance in the world. “Sustained,” he said wearily.
Granny amended her question. “What kind of action was he advocating?”
“Tree spiking. Sabotaging cars and equipment. And planting bombs.”
“Mr. Zakin advocated bombs?”
“Oh hell, yeah. Man, he was the expert on the subject. He could tell you all about what kind of ingredients to get to make a certain kind of bomb. Where to get them. How to make a small, contained implosion or a large, widespread explosion. Apparently he’d done a lot of bomb work in the past. Green Rage had never been involved in that sort of thing before. But as soon as Zak was on board, he started pushing for it.”
“Were the other members receptive to this idea?”
“A few were. Hotheads like Al Green. But most of us thought it was too dangerous. Sure, we want to save the forests, but despite what people say, we really aren’t willing to put trees before people.”
Granny adopted a level, earnest tone. “Mr. Collier, I need to ask you another question-a very important question, so please think carefully before answering. Do you know if George Zakin has ever planted a bomb?”
Rick didn’t hesitate a moment. “Oh, yeah. I know he has.”
“Do you know if he planted the bomb that killed Dwayne Gardiner?”
Again no hesitation. “I’m certain of it.”
“And why is that?”
Rick turned to face the jury before answering. “Because he told me he was going to do it.”
A gasp pealed out from the back of the gallery. More audible murmuring and whispering followed. Judge Pickens banged his gavel on the bench, but a good half a minute passed before he brought the courtroom back to silence.
Granny didn’t hold back. “And why would he want to plant a bomb? To further the environmental cause?”
“Nah.” Rick’s lips turned down at the edges. “To get Dwayne Gardiner.”
The air in the courtroom seemed to become thick, heavy, as if everyone and everything were suspended in time.
“Let me make sure I understand you, Mr. Collier. Are you saying Zakin planted the bomb with the express intention of harming Mr. Gardiner?”
“I think so, yeah.”
“And why would he want to do that?”
Rick glanced up at the judge, the jury, out into the gallery-almost everywhere except at Zak. “Because he was sleeping with Gardiner’s wife.”
If the reaction in the courtroom had been audible before, it was near deafening now. Several people-reporters, probably-leaped to their feet and headed out the back doors to spread the word of this major new development. Whispering and gossiping went from a buzz to a roar. Judge Pickens pounded his gavel furiously, threatening to clear the courtroom, trying to restore order.
Ben took advantage of the momentary chaos to have a short, curt conversation with his client. He was so angry he could barely speak. “You told me you didn’t know Gardiner,” he said bitterly. “You said you had no connection to him.”
“But I didn’t!” Zak said, imploringly. “I never met him till that night in the bar. It was his wife-”
Ben placed his hand on his forehead. This was just hopeless.
As soon as the courtroom was quiet enough for her to proceed, Granny did so. “And how do you know Mr. Zakin was having an affair with Lu Ann Gardiner?”
“He told me,” Rick replied. “Hell, he told me frequently. I gotta tell you, Zak may be a great environmentalist, but when it comes to women, he’s kind of a pig. Of the chauvinist variety.”
“How do you mean?”
“He was constantly trying to pick up women, in some of the sleaziest ways you can imagine. He’d lie, cheat, steal-whatever it took.”
“And is this how he attracted the attention of Mrs. Gardiner?”
“More or less, yeah.”
“How do you know?”
“I was there when it happened. I was in the bar when he first picked her up.”
“And when was that?”
“Oh, about three weeks before the murder. Apparently they really hit it off, ’cause they were banging away”-he stopped, looked up at the judge-“oh-excuse me. They were, uh, engaging in, uh, carnal relations every chance they got. Zak was having a great time. Till the angry husband found out.”