"I expect you to soften the kid up, Archie," Stengard had told him. "Kick his ass a few times. It'll be good for him."
Gale had done just that. He was not surprised to find that Daniel was suave and effective in court and had done a good job as county attorney after Stengard died. Daniel had lost two big cases, though-both at the hands of Archibald Gale.
The trial of Graeme Stoner would be either Daniel's revenge or a humiliating strikeout.
Gale knew that Daniel was confident, and Gale was fully aware that the prosecutor had reason to be. Even without a body, the forensic evidence alone would be enough to sour a jury on a client who looked even more arrogant than the prosecutor, and if Daniel could make them believe that the man had truly been screwing his stepdaughter, Gale would have a difficult time keeping Stoner out of jail for the rest of his life.
But Gale enjoyed a challenge-and he had a few surprises of his own waiting.
Gale hopped into the ancient elevator and felt it sag under his weight. He usually took the stairs to stay in shape, but for his pretrial meetings, he didn't want to risk being winded. When the elevator finally creaked to a halt, he got out and headed down the hall to the large Ojibwe Library, with its three sets of chambered windows overlooking the lake. Margaret emerged from the kitchen, and he bent down merrily to give her a peck on the cheek. The old woman giggled and blushed.
"I've got your glass of Oban on the coffee table for you, Mr. Gale."
"Oh, Margaret, you're too good to me. Let's run away together, shall we?"
Margaret giggled again. "Do you know what Mr. Erickson will be drinking?"
"Make sure you have a Bombay gin with lots of ice waiting for him. Put it on my account. And I imagine he'll quickly want another."
Margaret smiled, as if they were sharing a little secret, and retreated back to the kitchen.
Gale made himself comfortable. He spent a moment or two reflecting as he stared out the windows, glanced at the headlines of the Star Tribune, which he had already read, and settled himself into a 1920s sofa, where he allowed his Oban to warm in his palm. He was calm. He was always that way before a trial. Other lawyers became energetic and restless. Gale became focused. He could feel his pulse slow down and feel his brain slowly bring itself to bear on the big picture of what lay ahead.
Five minutes later, Dan Erickson burst into the library, carrying a double shot of gin in a lowball glass, which he swirled in his hand, clinking the ice cubes. Drops of gin slurped over the edges and onto the carpeting.
"Hello, Daniel," Gale said. "My, my, you look nervous."
Dan stopped and smiled. "On the contrary. I can't wait to get started. Last time, you beat me, Archie."
"And the time before that, as I recall," Gale reminded him cheerily.
"Well, not this time."
Dan didn't sit down. He paced between the windows and the fireplace. He was dressed in a navy suit and polished black shoes. His blond hair was carefully sprayed in place. Although a short man, Dan was handsome and fit, and Gale suspected he had been going to a tanning booth for weeks to make an impression on the jury.
"Ah, but Judge Kassel already took my side regarding Nancy Carver," Gale said.
Dan shrugged. He picked up a small porcelain figurine from the fireplace mantel, passed it back and forth between his hands, and put it back. "Carver's testimony was hearsay. I knew we wouldn't get it in."
"So you say, but it makes it much harder to put Graeme and Rachel in bed together, doesn't it?"
"Oh, we have enough to do that," Dan said. "This is a very sick client you've got, Archie. You're not making yourself any friends in the community by taking the case."
Gale buried his nose inside his glass of scotch, then took an imperceptible sip. "Yes, I've already gotten the usual hate mail and death threats. It's ironic, don't you think, people saying they're going to kill me because I'm defending an alleged murderer?"
"You're hardly on the side of the angels here," Dan said. He was at the window now, staring at the Monday afternoon traffic on London Road. Then he paced back to the center of the room.
"Sit down already, you're making me dizzy."
Dan smiled. He drummed his fingers on his pockets. "Just wait, Archie. Just wait."
"You do seem confident," Gale told him.
"That's because I've got Stoner nailed. I know it. You know it."
"Oh, if I were you, I'd look into a few of my witnesses a little more carefully. You might find they have other stories to tell."
A faint flicker of worry passed across Dan's face and then was quickly replaced by a broad grin. "Damn, you are an old fox. You lie almost as well as I do."
Gale chuckled. "High praise from you. But I'm not lying, Consider it a professional courtesy."
"Yeah, yeah. Look, you can wriggle and squirm, but you won't escape on this one. Your one chance was to get the case moved to another venue, and on that one, you lost. Hell, I don't need to worry about putting Nancy Carver on the stand to say that Rachel told her she was boffing her daddy. The whole jury pool already knows. Not that I'll admit that outside this room."
"Yes," Gale acknowledged, sighing. "I was disappointed about the change of venue. I suspect the judge knows the case should have been transferred, but I really think she wanted it herself. She's a little like you."
Dan bent down, dipping his fingers into a crystal bowl and scooping out a handful of mixed nuts. He sifted through them, sorting out a white chunk of Brazil nut, which he popped into his mouth.
"You're right about that," he said, as the nut crunched between his teeth. "In fact, you should know that I slept with Catharine."
Gale's eyebrows arched in surprise. He reached over to the end table and retrieved his Oban. "You slept with the judge? Isn't that going a little far to win a case?"
"It was several years ago. She wasn't a judge, and I wasn't the county attorney then."
"But she was already married, as I recall," Gale said.
Dan shrugged and found a cashew from the pile in his hand. He ate it loudly without replying.
"I could ask for a different judge," Gale continued.
"You could, but you won't," Dan said.
"You're so sure?"
Dan nodded. "This won't be your last case in front of Catharine, and I don't imagine you want to be the one to air her dirty linen in public. Besides, you know you could do worse. Stoner will get fair treatment at her hands. More than he deserves."
"And from what I know of your reputation, Daniel, your affair with her may work to my advantage," Gale retorted dryly.
"Oh, I wouldn't go that far."
"Well, then, why tell me?" Gale asked innocently.
"You know perfectly well why, Archie. Now you can't claim to be ignorant. I've given you reason to remove her, and you've declined. If you had discovered the affair after Stoner was convicted, you'd have grounds for a retrial."
"True," Gale said. "Although Stoner will never be convicted."
"Come on, Archie. If I were you, I'd plead him. We've got Rachel's blood in his van, on his knife, and at the murder scene-a perfect DNA match. You'll never get the better of Dr. Yee on the scientific evidence. No one ever does."
Gale shrugged. He had tangled with Yee many times. "Yes, if Dr. Unshakable says it's the girl's blood, then it's the girl's blood."
"Put the blood evidence together with the evidence of an incestuous affair," Dan added. "Plus, he has no alibi, and he's a rich, smug son of a bitch. The jury is going to loathe him."
Gale shook his head. He finished off his drink and pushed himself out of the chair with a groan. He smoothed his goatee. "Trust me, Daniel. You picked the wrong case to turn into a public circus."