“Do you recall your stroll being interrupted by Sheriff Collier?”
“Of course.”
“Were you irritated with him?”
“No, he was just doing his job. He was nicer about it than some I’ve seen.”
“What happened?”
“Oh, it was pretty much as Sheriff Collier described it.”
“Whose blood was on your shirt?”
The air in the courtroom seemed suspended; at last a question that got to the heart of the matter.
“That was my blood. I got hurt that afternoon at the Bluebell Bar. During the fight. I suppose I should have changed my shirt, but it never occurred to me.”
“And since the sheriff never analyzed the bloodstain, he never found out it was your own blood.”
“I guess that’s right.”
“The sheriff also claims that after he told you Vuong was dead, you said, ‘He deserved to die.’ Is that true?”
Vick paused only a second before answering. “Yes.”
“And why would you say that?”
“Because it’s true.” He directly confronted the jurors. “That’s not to say I was glad he was dead. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, especially not the way it happened to him. But he did deserve to die.”
“Donald.” Ben slowly approached the stand. “Did you kill Tommy Vuong?”
“No. Maybe he deserved to die, but I’m not an executioner. I wouldn’t do that. And I didn’t.”
“Thank you, Donald. No more questions at this time.” The jury remained very still as Ben returned to defendant’s table. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought Vick’s earnest testimony had had a real effect on them.
“Fine.” Judge Tyler swung around in his big leather chair. He appeared to have been as mesmerized by Vick’s testimony as everyone else. “Mr. Swain, you may inquire.”
56.
“WELL, MR. VICK,” SWAIN said. “I had no idea you ASPers were so sensitive.” No one so much as smiled. His attempt at sarcasm had fallen flat.
“Was that a question, sir?” Vick asked politely.
“No.” Swain cleared his throat. “But this is. You seem to have omitted a very important detail from your story. Where were you on the afternoon before the murder took place? Say around four o’clock.”
Damn. Beneath the table and out of sight of the jury, Ben clenched his fists. He had hoped Swain would discuss some of the subjects brought out on direct first. But Swain was going straight for the jugular.
“I was at the Bluebell Bar.”
“Just stopped in for a drink?”
“No. Actually I don’t drink.”
“Oh, of course not.” Swain grinned. “You’re probably a buttermilk man.”
Vick didn’t flinch.
“If you don’t drink, why were you at the Bluebell Bar?”
“I was looking for someone.”
“Who?”
Vick took a deep breath. “Tommy Vuong.”
“And why were you looking for him?”
Vick looked across the courtroom at Ben. His mouth remained shut.
Ben jumped to his feet. “Objection!”
Tyler peered down at him. “Got any grounds, counsel, or do you just not want the witness to answer?”
“I object … on grounds of relevance, your honor.”
Swain piped in. “Of course this is relevant. It goes toward establishing the defendant’s motive. It also establishes a predisposition for violence toward the victim.”
“We’ll stipulate that Donald wasn’t fond of the victim, your honor. So the question is unnecessary.”
Tyler shook his head. “The objection is overruled.”
Ben didn’t sit down. “Then I object on grounds of … um … lack of proper foundation.”
Swain’s forehead crinkled. “Do I have to respond to that, Judge?”
“No.” He pointed his gavel at Ben. “The quality of your objections is quickly deteriorating, counsel. Overruled. I suggest you sit down.”
Reluctantly Ben did as the judge told him.
“Let me ask it again,” Swain said. “Why were you looking for Tommy Vuong?”
Vick took another deep breath. “I would prefer not to say.”
“Is that a fact?” Swain looked to the judge. “Gosh, your honor, the witness would prefer not to say!”
Judge Tyler frowned. “The witness will answer the question.”
Vick closed his eyes and swallowed. “I won’t.”
“What?” Tyler drew himself up like a grizzly bear rearing for an attack. “What do you mean, you won’t?”
“I mean, I won’t answer the question. I can’t.”
“Mr. Vick, you took a solemn oath to tell the truth. The whole truth.”
“Yes. But long before today I made another promise. And I can’t break it.”
Tyler peered down at the witness. “If you do not answer the district attorney’s question, sir, there will be severe consequences.”
“If I do answer the question, someone else’s life will be ruined. I won’t do that.”
Ben could tell the jurors were disturbed by Vick’s sudden recalcitrance. Whatever good he had done for Vick during his direct examination was slowly oozing away. “Your honor, perhaps if Mr. Swain could phrase the question differently.”
“Okay,” Swain said. “I’ll play along. What did you say to Tommy Vuong?”
“I—I can’t tell you.”
“We’ve heard you two talked for several minutes. What did you talk about?”
“I’m sorry. I can’t say.”
Swain spread his arms wide. “Your honor … what can I do?”
“Once again,” the judge said, “I instruct the witness to answer the question!”
“I’m sorry, sir. I mean no disrespect. But I can’t do that.”
“You will do that!” Tyler pounded his gavel. “I will not allow this contempt of court!”
“You’ll have to, sir.”
“I will insist on an answer if we have to stay here all night!”
“Then I invoke the protection of the Fifth Amendment and respectfully decline to answer.”
Ben closed his eyes. It was enough to make a lawyer cry. His defendant agrees to take the stand, only to plead the Fifth and refuse to answer the DA’s questions. It would’ve been better if Ben had never put him on the stand at all.
“So that’s it, then?” Tyler demanded. “You’re going to take the Fifth?”
“Yes, sir. I am.”
“In that case,” Swain said, “what’s the point of proceeding? I have no more questions.”
And no need to ask them, Ben realized. The expression on the jurors’ faces had changed dramatically. There was outright hostility toward Vick now. He was hiding something.
“Very well,” Tyler said. “Mr. Vick, you’re excused. Get out of here.”
Vick scurried out of the box, without once looking back at the jury. It was just as well. He wouldn’t have liked what he saw.
“Any further testimony, Mr. Kincaid?”
“No, sir,” Ben said regretfully. “Mr. Vick is our only witness.
“Any rebuttal from the prosecution?”
Swain shook his head happily. “I see no need, your honor.” And of course, he wanted to rush this trial to its conclusion while the memory of this disaster was still fresh on the jurors’ minds.
“Very well. I’ll entertain any motions from counsel.” He checked his watch. “It looks like we can just squeeze in closing arguments before quitting time. And then,” he said to the jury, “this matter will be in your hands.”
57.
DISTRICT ATTORNEY SWAIN BEGAN his closing in a voice so hushed the court reporter had to strain to pick up his words.
“Donald Vick doesn’t want you to know the whole story. He only wants you to know pieces of it—the safe parts, the parts he can get away with telling. We, on the other hand, have shown you the whole story. We have shown you all the evidence. We have held nothing back. As a result, I believe that each of you can see what really happened.”