Ben was modestly encouraged. He thought Zak was making a good impression-at least, as good as was possible, given the circumstances. At any rate, they were giving the jury something to think about when they retired.
“Thank you, Zak,” Ben said when the background was completed. “Now I’m going to have to ask you a few questions about the crime with which you’ve been charged. I know some of this will be unpleasant for you. I just have to ask you to bear with me.”
“Of course.”
“Zak, did you know Dwayne Gardiner?”
Before answering, Zak glanced quickly at Granny, who was sitting at the prosecution table. That was odd, Ben thought. Why would Zak be checking her? “Not really,” Zak answered. “The first and only time I ever met him was when he stopped me in the hallway in that bar, just before he died.”
“What did he want?”
“The account you’ve already heard was essentially accurate,” Zak said, turning toward the jury. “He had just found out his wife was having an affair, and he was angry about it. He threatened me. I tried to calm him down-without much luck.”
“Did you threaten him?”
“Absolutely not. I am a firm believer in nonviolence. I would use force only in defense, and fortunately, it didn’t come to that.”
“Did you purchase bomb materials at Georgie’s pawnshop?”
“I did.”
“Did you say, ‘I’m going to teach a logger a lesson he’ll never forget’?”
“No, I did not. That’s one part the witness got wrong. I was trying to explain the conservationist’s viewpoint, how inflexible the logging industry is. I said, ‘I’m going to teach some loggers a lesson they’ll never forget.’ ”
“And what did you mean by that?”
“I meant that if they tried to harm us, or the forest, as of course they have repeatedly, Green Rage would take action to defend ourselves. In the same nonviolent manner that we always have.”
“Now Zak,” Ben said, “you say you’re nonviolent, but you’ve also admitted using bombs. In most people’s eyes, bombs are pretty violent.”
“True. I guess what I should be saying is, we respect human life. We might hurt machinery in order to save a forest. But we would never harm a human being. Never.”
“Zak, I’m going to have to ask you an unpleasant question now. Were you having an affair with Dwayne Gardiner’s wife?”
His lips made a little frown. “Yes. I’m not proud of that. It was a mistake. But I should point out that when I first met Lu Ann, over at Bunyan’s, I didn’t know she was married, and she didn’t tell me, either. I didn’t know till almost a week later-and even then I didn’t hear it from her. By that time, well, things had already gone too far.”
“Did you think about breaking up with her?”
“I did break up with her. Told her it was over. She wasn’t happy about it, either. I gather relations between her and her husband were not too hot. Anyway, she was really mad-screamed and shouted, threatened me.”
“And was this before or after Dwayne Gardiner confronted you?”
“Before. I figure it was only after she got ticked off at me that she told him. That’s why the whole thing was so stupid-here he was yelling at me about an affair, and I’d already terminated the thing on my own.”
Ben checked the jury out the corner of his eye. Having his client participate in adultery was never going to be a selling point, but Ben was convinced it was better to be up front about the negatives than to try to hide them. Juries were smarter than most people gave them credit for-and they were more likely to be forgiving to a confessed sinner than to a liar.
“Have you seen Lu Ann Gardiner? Since you terminated the relationship?”
“Not once. When it was over, it was over.”
“Did you bear any ill will toward Dwayne Gardiner?”
“Of course not. If anyone had an axe to grind, it was him, not me.”
“You didn’t have any bad feelings toward him?”
“No. I was sorry he disagreed on the environmental issues-I wish we could get more loggers to see things from our long-term global perspective, rather than from their narrow economics-based viewpoint. But I had no grudge against him in particular.”
“Thank you. Now I’m afraid I’m going to have to take you back to the night of the murder. The early morning, actually. Okay?”
Zak shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He didn’t say anything.
“Where were you at one A.M. on July thirteenth?”
Zak was still antsy, shifting. His eyes darted around the courtroom. “I … um …
“Excuse me?”
Zak licked his lips. “I … uh … can’t answer that.”
Ben’s head fell forward. “What?”
“I … I’m sorry. I can’t answer the question.”
“You what?” Ben stared across the courtroom, utterly befuddled. What the hell was going on here?
“I’m sorry, I just-ask me something else.”
Ben was incredulous. Zak had systematically undermined his defense at almost every point. And now he was spoiling his own testimony.
“Zak, you didn’t program the bomb to explode when the ignition was turned, did you?” It was a leading question, but Granny didn’t seem interested in objecting.
“You mean … on the night of the murder, right?”
“Well, of course!” Ben tried to control himself. He couldn’t believe this.
“I’m sorry, then.” He folded his hands in his lap and looked down. “I can’t answer that question, either.”
“Zak?” Ben didn’t know what to do, what to say. In all his years he had never encountered anything like this. “Zak, this is critical. You have to answer.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t and I won’t.”
The hell with subtlety. Ben cut to the highlight of his outline. “Zak, did you plant a bomb for the purpose of killing Dwayne Gardiner?”
He did not look up. “I’m sorry. I can’t answer.”
The buzz in the courtroom was growing audible and distracting. Everyone in the gallery seemed just as mystified as Ben.
“Well, look,” Ben said, “you’re on the stand, and you’ve sworn to tell the truth. So you don’t have the option of silence. Answer the question.”
Zak shook his head. “I won’t.”
“I insist.”
“I’m sorry, no.”
Ben looked up at the bench. “Your honor?”
Judge Pickens leaned forward. He was obviously just as confused as everyone else. “Son, you’re on the witness stand. You have to answer the question.”
“I’m sorry. No disrespect intended. But I won’t answer.”
Pickens’s chest swelled. “Son, I don’t think you understood me properly. I didn’t ask you-I told you. Answer the question!”
“No. I won’t.”
“I will find you in contempt of court!”
“You can’t make me answer,” Zak said, looking away. “I’m taking the fifth.”
Judge Pickens’s lips parted. “Are you telling me,” he said finally, “that you’re taking the fifth-when your own lawyer is asking the questions?”
“That’s right. I won’t answer. Should I go?”
The buzz in the courtroom was building into a roar.
“Zak,” Ben said urgently, “this is your last chance. You must answer.”
“No.” He rose to his feet. “Can I go now?”
Judge Pickens’s mouth was still gaping. “I–I don’t-” He turned. “Madame Prosecutor, you can still attempt to cross, if you wish.”
“I don’t see the point,” Granny said. “I think it’s clear to everyone what’s happened here. Let’s just wrap the trial up and let the jury do its work. Let justice be done.”
Zak was excused from the bench. “Anything else from the defense?” Judge Pickens asked.
Ben couldn’t believe it. His entire defense consisted of a theory that fell apart, an alibi witness who had lied, and a defendant who took the fifth.
His mind raced, grasping for something, anything, that he could possibly put before the jury. But nothing came. He had played every card in his hand.
There was no point in stalling. Whether he liked it or not, he had nothing else. “No, your honor, the defense rests.”