The bailiff, not privy to Calvin’s monologue, continues. “Findlay County Court is now in session, the Honorable Matthew Morrison presiding.”
Judge Morrison comes striding into the room and takes his seat at the bench. He is maybe sixty years old, a large imposing man who packs a good two hundred thirty pounds onto his six-foot-two-or three-inch frame. He could stand to lose ten or fifteen pounds, but not much more than that.
He instructs the bailiff to bring in the defendant, and moments later Jeremy Davidson is brought into the room and sits on Calvin’s left, while I’m on Calvin’s right. Jeremy is slightly shorter and thinner than his father, hardly the fearsome presence that one would think everyone is here to deal with. Calvin whispers an introduction, and Jeremy and I shake hands. His handshake is weak, and he is clearly petrified. It’s an appropriate feeling whether he is guilty or innocent; life as he knows it is over.
My initial reaction to Jeremy’s demeanor is to want to help him, though that reaction is more emotional than logical. Fear and worry in a defendant are not a sign of innocence; if he were guilty, he’d have just as much or even more reason to be afraid.
Judge Morrison then peers down at the assembled lawyers. When he looks at our table, he says, “I do believe there’s a face I don’t recognize.”
Calvin stands. “Andrew Carpenter, Your Honor. At this point he is a consultant to the defense.”
The judge nods, unimpressed. He must not watch a lot of cable TV. He then turns to Lester. “Talk to me,” he says, and Lester launches into a summation of the dire situation in which Jeremy Davidson finds himself.
Like courtrooms, arraignments are consistent everywhere. Nothing of real consequence ever happens, and no real news is made. Calvin does all the proper things: He has Jeremy plead not guilty and then asks for bail. The judge denies the request without a second thought, or even a first one. Bail in cases like this simply does not happen.
Judge Morrison asks Calvin if he plans to waive Jeremy’s right to a preliminary hearing, and Calvin says that he does not. That hearing will be to determine if the state has probable cause to try Jeremy for the murders. It is a very low threshold of proof for the prosecutor, and he will prevail, but it is still a smart move for Calvin to demand it. In the process he, or we if I take the case, will be able to get prosecution witnesses on the record, which will be helpful in cross-examination at the actual trial.
The preliminary hearing is set for ten days from now, and this session is adjourned. The courtroom quickly empties out, Laurie included. Calvin, Jeremy, and I move to an anteroom, with a guard planted outside the door in case the handcuffed Jeremy attempts an escape.
Jeremy looks shaken but comes right to the point. “My father says you’re the best.”
“He’s only repeating what he’s been told.”
“So you’re not the best?”
“Jeremy, I’m not here to talk about me. I’m here to talk about you.”
He sits back. “Okay… I’m sorry. What do you want to know?”
“When did you see Elizabeth and Sheryl last?”
He takes a deep breath. “I saw Liz the night she died. We met at the Crows Nest… it’s a bar out on Highway 57.”
“So it was a date?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “No, she had already broken up with me. I got her to come out there just to… to ask her to come back.”
“But she said no?”
He nods. “She said no. She was only there maybe ten minutes. And I think her ex-boyfriend was waiting for her in the car.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I saw somebody in the driver’s seat, but it was pretty far away, and it was dark, so I couldn’t make out his face.”
“Could it have been Sheryl Hendricks?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t think so. I asked Liz straight out if this was about her old boyfriend. She said that in a way it was, but that there was more to it than that. Then she said they were running away; she seemed really upset.”
“What was the boyfriend’s name?”
“I don’t know. She never mentioned his name. She always told me that she was going to make decisions for herself and that their relationship was a thing of the past.” He shakes his head sadly. “And then I guess all of a sudden it wasn’t.”
“So she told you again that it was over between you. Then what happened?”
“I got mad, and I started yelling at her, saying she was being unfair, making a big mistake, that kind of thing. But she didn’t want to listen to me anymore. She said I just couldn’t understand, and then she just left. I… never saw her again.”
“After she left, what did you do?” I ask.
“I was going to go into the bar and get a drink. I felt like getting drunk, you know? But I had the truck with me, and no other way to get home, so I didn’t. I just went home and went to sleep.”
“Truck?”
He nods. “A pickup truck; that’s what I drive.”
“Were your parents at home when you arrived?”
He shakes his head. “No, they were out of town, visiting my aunt and uncle in Milwaukee.”
“Did you know Sheryl?”
“No, I actually never met her, but she was Liz’s best friend from Center City,” he says. “Liz talked about her a lot.”
Calvin asks, “Why did Liz break up with you?” He’s obviously been over this ground with Jeremy, so if he’s asking this question, it’s an answer he wants me to hear.
“It was because of her religion,” Jeremy says with more than a trace of bitterness.
“You were of different religions?” I ask, though I already know the answer.
He nods. “She’s a Centurion. To be one, you have to be born in that town.”
“People can’t convert to it and move there?”
“Nope. Not according to Liz.”
This is something of a surprise; it’s rare that a religion would turn down members.
“Any idea who might have killed her?”
“No.”
“Was there anybody else she ever mentioned she had a problem with? Something or someone she was afraid of?”
“No… I’ve been racking my brain.”
Jeremy has little more to offer, and the session evolves into an effort by him to get me to take on the case. I don’t commit, and Calvin doesn’t seem fazed by the implied insult that Jeremy and his father don’t seem to think they’re in sufficiently good hands with Calvin.
I leave after telling Jeremy I’ll likely have a decision within twenty-four hours, but that either way he’ll be well represented. I owe that to him and Calvin as well, though in truth I’ve done nothing toward advancing my decision-making process. Calvin gives me some papers relating to the case to go over; he’s prepared a brief summary of the events, or at least his knowledge of them. It’s a professional gesture that I appreciate, and I tell him so. He also invites me to come to his house later for a drink so that we can discuss the case further. He even says I can bring Tara, so I agree to come.
I feel vaguely out of sorts here in Findlay, and I certainly don’t have a feel for the case. It’s disconcerting, though on the positive side I haven’t thought about Laurie for almost an hour, which represents a record for me.
Right now I just want to go home, and the closest thing to that is Tara, waiting at the hotel. The man behind the desk in the lobby tells me that they have the TV ready to install, but they were afraid to do so with “that dog” in the room. Little do they know that “that dog” is probably smart enough to have installed it herself.
Tara is beyond thrilled to see me and just about drags me to the elevator. We go for a long walk, maybe an hour, which pretty much covers all of Findlay. I mentally guess which houses could be Laurie’s, but it’s not that challenging a game, and my thoughts switch to the case.