"Murder, extortion, cramming body parts into the trunks of cars. It has a way of blocking the digestion," chortled Marc, the crime novelist.
Rosella put down her yarn."My huzban's a little scared. He said, ‘Whazzamatter, Rosie, you can't get yourself on a nice traffic dispute for a few days? You gotta get on with this wacko mobster?'"
"Hang on," Andie interrupted,"you heard the judge. We don't actually know he's wacko yet. We have to wait until we hear theevidence to determine he's wacko."
A few people laughed.
"More to the point"-Andie looked around the table-“what about the fact that these mob guys know all our names and where we live?" A few jurors nodded, each with the same look of concern.
The door to the courtroom opened. There was a hush. Andie had the feeling everybody's eyes were warning her.
Then Sharon Ann was standing there, her narrow gaze centered directly on Andie."In my office," she said. Her"office" was one of the two bathrooms, which the other day had been designated for private conversations.
"Huh?"
"In my office, Ms. DeGrasse," Sharon Ann ordered her.
Slowly Andie rose and, with a roll of the eyes, followed the dour court clerk into the cramped bathroom.
"Don't think I don't know what you're up to, Ms. DeGrasse," Sharon Ann snapped as soon as the door had closed.
"W-what I'm up to?" Andie stammered."I didn't say anything that everyone in that room hasn't already thought to themselves."
Even her sister, Rita. It had been the first thing out of her mouth.Doesn't it make you a little worried? I mean, they know you, Andie. It's Dominic Cavello. They know where you live. You didn't need to be a mother to be worried. Justhuman. The whole selection process had been right out in the open."Listen, Sharon Ann, I…"
"You've wanted off this thing from the very beginning." Sharon Ann cut her off."I'm not havinganyone poisoning this jury. You got your wish-you're history, lady."
Chapter 11
ANDIE RETOOK HER SEAT back in the jury room, blushing, a little embarrassed and hurt. A few minutes later the door to the courtroom opened again, and she found out just what the judge's clerk meant.
Sharon Ann stuck her head in."We're not quite ready yet." Then she pointed a finger toward Andie, motioning her up."Ms. DeGrasse…"
A flutter of nerves went down Andie's spine.
"Can you come with me, please? And you can bring your things."
Andie slowly got up, flashing a resigned look around the table. She was gone!
She followed Sharon Ann into the courtroom, which, to her surprise, was hushed and packed. And all eyes seemed to be centered on her. She felt really embarrassed now, like she was being publicly marched into the boss's office and fired-just for speaking her mind.
Sharon Ann led her through a side door in the courtroom behind the judge's bench. A marshal was guarding the hallway. Sharon Ann motioned flatly."Go in. She's waiting for you."
Andie stepped inside the large, book-lined room. Judge Seiderman looked up from behind a desk covered with papers.
"Ms. DeGrasse." She peered over her reading glasses."It's come to my attention you seem to have a bit of nervous stomach of the mouth."
"I beg your pardon?"
"You have trouble keeping your mouth shut, don't you?" The judge looked at her sternly."It might've been amusing during jury selection, but now… We're about to start an important trial, not a theatrical audition. I can't afford any troublemakers on this jury."
Andie stood her ground."If you're talking about what I said in there, I actually thought it was a pretty legitimate question."
"What,Ms. DeGrasse?" Judge Seiderman looked up impatiently.
"Everyone heard our names during selection. And where we live. If we're married or not. Or have any kids. Anyone in their right mind would be concerned. Certainly, people have raised questions."
"People?" The judge arched her brows.
"I don't know. My sister. My mother. When I told them I was on this case. That can't exactly be a shock to you."
"Why we opted for how we conduct this trial is the court's business, Ms. DeGrasse. All you have to know is that if we thought there was the slightest danger to the jury, I assure you it would be our first concern." Judge Seiderman sat back. She took out an official slip and reached for a pen."You've wanted off this trial from the beginning, haven't you?"
"I guess. Maybe last week, but…"
"But what? I'm about to give you your wish."
Andie's heartbeat accelerated. Last week she would've killed to hear those words. But over the weekend she'd begun to have a change of heart. She started to see this as a chance to do something decent, something good. She hadn't done a whole lot before to help people. Never served in the armed forces or the peace corps. Never volunteered for much in the community. Basically, she'd had Jarrod-that was it. And over the weekend, it all kind of settled on her.
"It's true. I did feel that way," Andie said."But if it's all the same, I came here this morning to serve."
The judge stopped writing. She gazed up at Andie, a little surprised by what she'd heard.
"You think you can be a positive force on this jury, Ms. DeGrasse? And not cause any trouble?"
Andie nodded."Yes, if you let me get back in there, I think I can."
Christ, Andie, all you had to do was keep your mouth shut, and you'd be gone.
Judge Seiderman put down her pen. She took a long, evaluating look at Andie."Okay, why not? It's your right to serve." The judge summoned her clerk."Ms. Moran, would you mind showing Juror Number Eleven back to the jury room."
"Thank you, Your Honor." Andie smiled.
Heading back to the courtroom, Sharon Ann held the door."Well, I'm certainly surprised you're still on this jury."
"Yeah." Andie shook her head in disbelief."That makes two of us."
Chapter 12
"ON THE MORNING of August sixth, 1993," U.S. Attorney Joel Goldenberger began,"Samuel Greenblatt, a happily married sixty-two-year-old building contractor, was brutally murdered outside his home in Union, New Jersey." The prosecutor pointed to a photographic enlargement resting on an easel. It depicted a smiling, slightly balding man with his wife at his sixtieth birthday party.
The jury stared at the face.
"A car pulled up as Greenblatt left for the office that morning. Two men in caps and sunglasses jumped out and shot him,multiple times, as he stepped onto the street. The victim looked at his killers and muttered, ‘Why?' Then he called out, ‘Frannie,' the name of his wife of thirty-seven years. Then, to make sure they had finished the job, one of them stood over Mr. Greenblatt's dying body and calmly put two more rounds into his head. After the gunmen drove away, the first one to find the body was his youngest son, a senior at Rutgers. Members of the jury, you're going to be hearing a lot about Samuel Greenblatt during this trial."
One of Goldenberger's assistants passed out graphic police photographs showing the victim's bloodied corpse. One or two women in the jury box squirmed and shook their heads."Now, no one is claiming Sam Greenblatt was an angel. In fact, he had assisted the Guarino crime family on several union-tampering construction jobs. He had secured bogus contracts for the family through the Local 407, a contracting union the family controlled.
"But what the governmentis saying," the prosecutor continued, gripping the sides of his table,"and what will be repeatedly backed up by the words of several key witnesses, is that the defendant, Dominic Cavello, gave the direct order for Mr. Greenblatt's execution. That the very killers were chosen by Mr. Cavello and rewarded by him-with money and promotions in the organization to which they all belonged. And what was the motive for this killing? Why did Mr. Greenblatt need to be eliminated? Because Mr. Cavello and his cronies believed they were the subject of a state law enforcement investigation, an assumption that turned out to be false. They simplythought Mr. Greenblatt could do them harm."