“No.” He wiped his mouth. “I think he’s trying to be careful about not talking to me, since he’s a witness and all. But you’re not gonna call him, right?”
“Doubt it. Don’t see why I would.”
Ronnie had offered his testimony, in whatever form she wanted, on so many occasions she had lost count. He would willingly lie for Alex. Whatever corroboration Shelly needed, he would provide.
“You told him, didn’t you?” he asked.
She had told him. She had confronted Ronnie in that conference room right after her conversation on the cell phone with Joel Lightner, who had reported a strange visit by Ronnie to a man named Robert Eldridge. That kid is acting weird, Joel had said to her. He’s up to something.
Why, she wondered, had she chosen that moment to confront him with the fact that she knew he was her son? She wanted to tell herself that the timing was right, or she had an irresistible urge. A mother’s urge.
Nonsense. The evidence had been building up against the boy. He was seen consorting with Todavia. He was at the scene of the murder. Alex’s defensive overreaction every time she broached the subject of Ronnie only confirmed her suspicions. She knew why she had chosen that moment for the heart-to-heart.
She was going to warn him.
I know you were involved. I won’t say anything but don’t do anything stupid. Stay away from Todavia. Keep your mouth shut. Stay as far away from that courtroom as possible.
Something had made her stop. Ethics? Rules? Something like that. Something about right and wrong, she assumed in hindsight. Regardless, she hadn’t warned Ronnie. She hadn’t said anything about his involvement in the shooting of Officer Miroballi.
Instead, in that moment when her heart had raced and she felt the building perspiration, she had simply said, I know I’m your mother.
She had put forth all of the information to him-her personal check of the birth records, Alex’s admission, her father’s knowledge-to spare both of them the embarrassment of his possible denial. That, unfortunately, did not do the trick. He still denied it, first with a laugh, then more adamantly, until finally he was throwing things. Out-of-control angry.
So what the hell are you gonna do now? he had asked. You’re not gonna help Alex now?
I’m still going to help him, she had said.
How are you gonna help? You gonna say self-defense? Or someone else did it? Which one?
She had refused to answer. She couldn’t. Not anymore. If Alex chose to do so, against her wishes, that was his prerogative. But she could no longer assume that Ronnie and Alex were on the same side.
That, of course, had sent Ronnie into even more of a rage. He had finally stormed out without another word. It was the last she had spoken to him.
It was obviously not the reaction she had hoped to elicit. The anger and frustration, she could understand. He was entitled to a number of adversarial feelings toward the mother who gave him up years ago. That wasn’t it. It was the other part of his reaction. He had seemed worried. Fearful. It had gone a long way toward confirming her suspicions about Ronnie. He had been keeping close tabs on this case-one would presume out of brotherly love and concern-and he seemed quite concerned that he no longer knew where the fingers were pointing. He was being shut out, and that scared him.
Was she doing her job here? Yes, she had proceeded to have yet another conversation with Alex on the subject, and he had responded in exactly the same way the second time: Forget Ronnie. He wasn’t there. I won’t say he was. Stick with self-defense.
Yes, she could say that she was following her client’s wishes and putting forth what, under the circumstances, was the best case. A case of self-defense. Sure. A panel of lawyers investigating her ethical performance would probably say she did everything she could do and then took her best shot for her client.
“Todavia’s testimony,” she said to Alex now. “About your conversation. Getting rid of Miroballi.”
“It didn’t happen, I’m telling you.”
“The jury could believe it, Alex.”
He nodded gravely. “But I thought you turned it around on him okay.”
“Well, it opened a door. It gave me a reason to point the finger at him. A reason that I didn’t have before now, because I didn’t know about this conversation.”
Alex raised his hands in defense. “There was nothing to tell. It didn’t happen.”
She shook her head. “The point is, Alex, that I had his head on a guillotine in there. It’s still there, I think. We could make a case against Todavia.”
“No,” he answered, before she had even elaborated.
“Alex.” She opened her hands. “The jury would happily buy that. I was playing some lawyer games in there with him, but I think it worked, and it worked because it made sense. If Todavia thought Miroballi was going after the Cannibals, that did mean him. He was in danger. He would have a good reason to eliminate Miroballi. And the jury is ready to believe that.”
Alex did not seem ready to accept that. “If you’re saying I didn’t do it, that means you’ll point at anyone.”
“I won’t point at Ronnie.” She was surprised at the speed of her response. “I’m talking about Todavia.”
Alex ran his fingers through his hair and stood up, paced the small cell. After a long moment, he shook his head. “No. We stick with our story.”
She lacked the energy to fight. Now was not the time to decide this, anyway. Shelly hadn’t even made an opening statement yet. She could walk this tightrope, she felt. In her cross-examinations during Morphew’s case-in-chief, she could dance along the line between self-defense and implicating Eddie Todavia.
“God, Alex,” she said, more to herself. “If I had known this about Todavia, I could have spent the last three months building something against him. I thought this was a kid you saw once a year. Now I hear you’re having conversations about Miro-”
“We didn’t have that conversation,” he said, snapping around from the bars of the cell door. “Just”-he waved his arms-“you did good today. You made him look like a liar. Don’t make him out to be a killer. Just let it go, all right?”
Alex nodded at the guard, who appeared at the cell door.
“Time to head up,” he said.
“Right.” Alex seemed eager to end the conversation.
Shelly walked over to him as the guard fumbled with the lock on the door. She whispered in his ear. “You don’t want me going after Todavia because he’s connected to Ronnie. Is that it?”
He broke free of her as the guard opened the door and put him in handcuffs. Alex would be taking the back elevator up to the courtroom, like all prisoners, while Shelly took the elevator on the other side of the hallway.
“Stick to the story,” Alex said as he walked away with his armed escort.
63
The afternoon moved quickly. Morphew put Eddie Todavia back on the stand for redirect and basically asked him the same questions. He made sure that the jury understood that Alex really, really said that he “had to get rid of that cop.” He emphasized that, while Todavia had allowed for the possibility that Alex was joking, Alex did not smile, smirk, or laugh when he made that comment, nor any of the other comments.
Shelly saw no utility in an extended recross. She asked Todavia if he had ever heard of the word sarcasm. She asked him if he had ever made a joke without smiling. “You heard the one about the rabbi, the priest, and the elephant with three legs?” she asked with the most serious expression she could muster. The witness stared at her, and she back at him. One of the jurors picked up on it, and pretty soon several of them were smiling.
She didn’t know what it was with her and comedy all of a sudden. She was usually accused of lacking an appropriate sense of humor. She had stumbled upon it, though, and it seemed to be working to her favor with the jury. She considered working on a monologue for tomorrow.