“Just the same,” Ben said, “as your defense attorneys, we have to assume the worst. We have to assume the jury believes Andrea McNaughton. We have to believe they were persuaded by the prosecution evidence. It may be circumstantial—but a lot of circumstantial can add up to ‘beyond a reasonable doubt.’ ”
Keri’s fingers combed through her platinum hair, so forcefully it looked as if she might tear it out by the roots. “But why do I have to testify? Surely we have other witnesses.”
“Other witnesses, yes,” Ben said. “But no one who can tell the story of what really happened the night Joe died. No one else knows.”
“Plus,” Christina added, “the jury needs to hear it from you. They need to hear you say that you did not kill Joe. Thanks to Andrea’s testimony, this case has become a sort of showdown between her and you. The jury can only believe one of you; they have to choose. They heard Andrea say that you killed Joe, and like it or not, she was convincing. You need to be equally convincing. Or more so.”
“But what about the cross-examination?” Keri asked. Her eyes looked frightened. Ben had to remind himself how young Keri was—how terrifying and unfamiliar this must be to her. “I hate that man—LaBelle. He’ll start asking me questions. Things I don’t know. He’ll try to trick me.”
“Yes,” Ben agreed, “he will. No doubt about it—there’s risk involved. But I think we should take the risk. I think we have to.”
The conference room fell silent for a moment. Keri looked down, elbows on the table, hands pressed against the sides of her head.
“I know what you think,” she said finally. “You think if I don’t testify, they’ll convict me. You think they’ll sentence me to death.”
Ben could not make eye contact with her. “It’s a possibility,” he said quietly. “A very real possibility.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry to both of you. But I can’t. I won’t.”
Christina reached out. “Keri, think about this before—”
“You heard what I said. I won’t do it. I’ve told you that all along, and nothing has changed.”
“But Keri—why?”
“I just—I don’t—” She turned away. “I can’t explain. But I can’t testify. I won’t.”
Christina pushed away from the table and started pacing around the room. “I don’t get this at all. Why can’t you testify, if you—you—”
“If you’re innocent?” Keri said sharply. “Because you don’t think I am, do you? You never did. Ben believes me, but you don’t. You think I killed Joe.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
Ben tried to wedge himself between them. “Keri, I’m sure Christina didn’t mean that.”
“She did.”
“But it is frustrating. If you didn’t do it, why not tell the jury that? Why can’t you testify?”
“I’m tired of talking about this,” Keri said. For the first time, some of her fear and sorrow faded—and was replaced by anger. “I’ve given you my decision. You work for me, right? So you need to figure out something else to do in the courtroom tomorrow. Because I’m not testifying.”
“And neither am I.”
Ben whipped his head around. His eyes widened when he saw the dark menacing figure in the corridor—surrounded by three bodyguards. “Catrona!”
Instinctively, Christina and Keri backed away from the doorway as Catrona slowly sauntered in. His escorts followed close behind.
Ben could feel his knees knocking. “Why are you here?”
“I’m here because you wanted me, right?” Catrona said, his voice like gravel. He reached into his coat pocket and withdrew an official looking single-page sealed document. “I got this subpoena.”
Ben swallowed. “That’s for the courtroom. Tomorrow.”
“I thought we should talk tonight.” He moved forward, his eyes never leaving Ben’s. “You know what? I’ve been in business almost twenty-three years. I’ve been the subject of a dozen investigations. But this is the first time anyone’s had the balls to slap me with a subpoena.”
Christina’s fingers were frantically curling her hair. “I guess you have to admire someone with that kind of courage, huh?”
Catrona gave her a brief but harsh look. “No. I think I need to teach him a lesson in respect.” He crumpled up the subpoena and shoved it into Ben’s shirt pocket. “You want to talk to me, you come and talk to me. Like you did before. But keep your crappy papers to yourself.” He moved even closer. “If you can’t learn some manners on your own, I’ll have my boys teach ’em to you.”
“You don’t scare me,” Ben said, delivering what was easily the biggest lie he’d told since the second grade.
“I should.” Catrona pressed his index finger against Ben’s chest. “Now listen to me. I knew that McNaughton clown was investigating me. I had some boys working on him, even. But I did not kill him. I didn’t do it; I didn’t order it done. I had nothing to do with it.”
“I don’t know that I can believe that,” Ben said defiantly.
“Kincaid, your lack of respect is seriously getting on my nerves. Don’t push your luck.”
“Who else would kill McNaughton in such a horrible way? Who else would make such a show of it?”
“Like I’d want that? Listen, creep, you’ve been to the movies too much. You think I want publicity? I don’t. Hell, everything I do depends on having as little publicity as possible. So I don’t blow up buildings, I don’t put horse’s heads in people’s beds, and I don’t chain corpses to fountains.”
“Fine,” Ben said. “Then that’s what you’ll tell the jury. The important thing is that I have a chance to ask you the questions in a public forum.”
“You’re not listening to me, punk.” He gave Ben a shove, just for emphasis. “You are not going to call me to the stand. I don’t need or want this publicity, I don’t need to be subjected to whatever questions the D.A. might care to ask, and if you like your life, and your friends’ lives, you won’t mess with me.”
“I have an obligation to defend my client to the best of my ability.”
“I got that. Why the hell do you think I talked to you in the first place? I didn’t have to give you anything back at the racetrack, and I don’t have to give you anything now. I’m doing it because I feel sorry for your client. I think she’s getting a bum rap; I told you that already. I know you want to turn me into some cartoon mobster, but I got feelings just like everyone else. So I gave you some help. And how do you reward me? With a subpoena!”
Ben drew in his breath. “If my client’s case depends on your testimony—”
“Let’s imagine for a moment that you don’t have the sense God gave a lamppost and you actually do call me to the stand. Am I going to admit I killed McNaughton? No. But I will reveal that he was on the take, which is why he got demoted. They couldn’t prove anything; I’m much too careful for that. But they knew, just the same, and that’s why they bucked him down.”
“If that’s true, why was he reinstated?”
Catrona leaned back, thumbs hooked in his lapel. “I’m not without a certain influence in this town, Kincaid. Even in the police department.”
“I don’t believe—”
“You believe what you want. The point is this. If you haul me up on the stand, I’ll repeat what Joe McNaughton told one of my lieutenants the last time he saw him. He said that he was afraid your little girl was going to kill him.”
“That’s not true!” Keri cried.
“In fact, he said she came at him with a knife and said she was going to cut him into a million pieces and hang him out where everyone could see what a faithless toad he was.”
“I don’t believe a word of this,” Ben said. “That’s a lie.”