“Very well. We’ll resume in fifteen minutes for closing arguments.” Pickens banged his gavel, and the courtroom went into an uproar.
Ben was still at the podium trying to make some sense of what had happened. Everyone in the courtroom seemed befuddled-judge, jury, spectators.
Everyone except the prosecutor. She didn’t seem particularly confused, Ben noted. And she had rattled off that little speech about justice like a pro. Almost like it had been rehearsed.
Zak was off the bench and had returned to defendant’s table. “Zak,” Ben said, “I want to talk to you!”
Zak wouldn’t look at him. “I don’t want to talk to you. Deputy?” He motioned for his escort. “Take me back to my cell.”
“Zak!”
He ignored Ben. The deputy hauled Zak toward the back door, leaving Ben in his wake.
Ben stood in the courtroom feeling utterly lost. What the hell was going on here?
He felt someone brush against his shoulder. It was Christina. “Do you understand what just happened?”
“No,” Ben said grimly. “But I know what the result will be.”
Chapter 66
Granny spent almost an hour systematically reminding the jury of the enormous body of evidence pointing toward George Zakin. The fingerprints. The footprints. The eyewitness testimony. Zak’s history with explosives. The personal grudge between victim and accused. The threat made just before the murder.
And she also pointed out that Zak had lied-that he had initially denied knowing Gardiner, denied planting the bomb. That he had bragged about the murder to a fellow prisoner. That he had put a former lover on the stand to lie for him. And even though she didn’t specifically mention it, no juror could possibly forget Zak taking the fifth, refusing to talk to his own lawyer. “With all the evidence that’s before you,” Granny argued, “can you honestly say that there is any reasonable doubt about what happened? We all know what happened. Let justice be done. Find George Zakin guilty of murder in the first degree.”
When it was his turn, Ben wasn’t sure what to say. He did his best to conjure up some wisp of reasonable doubt, but he had the strong sense that no one was buying it. Molly’s testimony had been a hard blow for the defense, but Zak’s performance had created a barrier he just couldn’t get around. How could he explain it? He didn’t understand it himself. All he could do was avoid the subject. And there were few things more pathetic than a closing argument that avoids the subject weighing most heavily on the jurors’ minds.
When arguments were completed, Judge Pickens reviewed the lengthy jury instructions. He dismissed the jurors, but instructed them to be back in the courtroom at nine to begin deliberations.
Nine A.M., Ben thought. We’ll have the bad news before lunch.
Ben left the courtroom feeling more depressed than he ever recalled feeling in his life. Despite everything, his gut still told him Zak had not committed this murder. So why was he so determined to be convicted for it?
Ben parted with Christina. There was no more work to do; best that they both had some quiet time to brace themselves for the disaster that was surely coming.
Outside his hotel, on the street, Ben saw Maureen. She appeared to be waiting for him. “Hiya, Mo. How are you?”
“Stiff as a board,” she answered. “I’ve spent the day with my arms stuffed in concrete barrels.”
“What, still? After what happened to Doc?”
“We have no choice.” Ben peered into her red, tired eyes. “It’s not like I wanted to. But those damn loggers are still trying to get into the forest. They weren’t taking a holiday to mourn Doc’s death. So we couldn’t either.” She turned slightly. “You can’t believe the day I’ve had.”
Ben almost smiled. “This hasn’t exactly been a red-letter day for me, either.”
“Trial didn’t go well?”
Ben averted his eyes. “I’m afraid it … it doesn’t look too good for Zak at this point.”
“Oh,” she said, barely audibly.
“I’m sorry I don’t have better news for you.”
“The whole group seems to be falling apart. Despite everything, our effort is failing. I can feel it. And I’m worried about Al.”
“Al? What’s wrong with him?”
“It’s Doc. Al was right there when it happened, you know. Right beside him. Al’s been uptight since the kidnapping, the whipping …” She shook her head. “But now he’s over the brink. It’s like something snapped inside him. I was chained to his barrel today, so I got to hear him rant for hours.”
“What was he saying?”
“Crazy stuff. Didn’t really make sense, most of it. Said he had something on the loggers, some secret. Said they were going to pay for what they’d done.” She looked up abruptly. “He was consumed with hate. The same hatred I saw in the eyes of the loggers standing outside the barricade, calling us names, spitting on us.” She drew in her breath. “I’m worried that Al is going to try something … dangerous. He’s been staying out late at night, wandering in the forest, not telling anyone what he’s doing. I’m just afraid.” She peered up at Ben. “And I really couldn’t stand to lose another member. I just-couldn’t-” Her voice broke off.
Ben laid his hand gently on her shoulder. “Well, try not to worry about it.”
“I have to worry about it. The only experienced members I’ve still got are Deirdre and Al, and Al is-” She couldn’t complete her sentence. All at once she pressed herself into Ben’s arms. “My God, Ben, we can’t afford to lose anyone else.”
Ben raised his hand and gently stroked her hair. “I know.”
“You wouldn’t think it would be so hard. All we want is to preserve what little is left. To keep some remnant of the natural world for our children.”
“I know.”
Her face turned up, and Ben saw tears trickling down her cheeks. They paused, the two of them, frozen for a moment, feeling the distance between them.
“You know, Ben,” she said quietly, “the trial is all but over now, and we said that when the trial was over we might … spend some time together. You remember?”
“I remember,” Ben said, gazing into her eyes. “Very well.”
Their two faces moved closer together, lips parted, each inexorably inching toward the other …
“Now this is a cozy scene, ain’t it?”
Ben and Maureen broke apart. On the side of the street, a large black sedan had pulled up next to them. Two men jumped out the side doors. Ben didn’t recognize either of them, but they had a distinctly thuggish appearance.
Ben pushed himself in front of Maureen. “What do you want?”
“Want to have us a little powwow,” the first man said. He grabbed Bens arm and jerked him toward the car.
“Leave me alone!” Ben shouted. He tried to break away, but the man held him tight with a viselike grip. An instant later, the other man was behind him, shoving him forward. He fell headfirst into the backseat of the sedan.
“Stop!” Ben shouted, but before he could say another word, the first man brought his fist around and cuffed Ben on the side of the face. His head slammed backward against the car door.
“Let go of me!” Maureen screamed. Ben saw the other man grabbing her, forcing her into the front seat. “Help!”
Maureen gave the scream her best, but there was no one close enough to hear. Within moments she was strapped and belted into the front seat and the door was locked behind her.
“You can’t do this,” Ben said.
“Do you want another one?” the man beside him said, raising his fist in the air.
Ben saw he was in no position to argue. Pinned down, isolated from anyone who could help-more chatter would only serve to loosen his teeth.
The doors were closed and locked. The car began to creep forward.
“You bastards,” Maureen spat out. “Haven’t you done enough already?”
“Evidently not,” said the voice behind the driver’s wheel. That was when Ben noticed for the first time who was driving.