“Who’s your friend, Mr. Payne?” the judge asked.
“This is Ben Kincaid, your honor. He practices law over in Tulsa County. I’m going to ask that he be admitted pro hac vice”—Ben winced at the pronunciation—“so he can assist me with this case.”
“I see.” Ben felt the judge give him the once-over. “Does Mr. Kincaid have experience with cases of this nature?”
“Oh, yes,” Payne replied. “He’s a murder-trial expert.”
Ben pressed his fingers against his temples. He was really going to have to sit down with Christina and explain the principle of false advertising.
“A murder-trial expert. My word.” The judge continued his silent appraisal. “Wouldn’t find no one like that around here. ’Course, we haven’t had a murder in twelve years. Why don’t you tell us about yourself, Mr. Kincaid?”
“Well … I’ve been practicing law for several years now in Tulsa—”
“Several years? You look to be—what, twenty-seven, twenty-eight?”
“I’m … thirty-one, your honor.”
“Huh. Guess you look young for your age.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“You practice with some big firm?”
“I did, sir. A few years back. We had a parting of the ways.”
The judge arched an eyebrow. “Where are you now, some corporation?”
“Well, I’ve done that, too … but it didn’t work out.”
“For such a young fella, you seem to have trouble keeping a job.”
“I’ve been maintaining a solo practice for some time now, your honor. I think I’ve found my niche.”
Judge Tyler placed a finger across his lips. “I don’t normally cotton to big-city lawyers strolling in to try our cases. They always seem to think they know more about how I should perform my job than I do. But given the gravity of the charges, and Mr. Payne’s lack of experience with criminal matters, I’ll allow it. You are hereby admitted to act as counsel for the defendant in the present case.”
“Thank you, your honor.” Ben made a mental note to avoid acting like a big-city lawyer, whatever that meant.
“Why don’t we welcome Mr. Kincaid with a drink?” the judge said exuberantly.
“A drink?”
Judge Tyler opened his bottom desk drawer and removed a bottle of Scotch. “I’m afraid Mabel took all my glasses, gentlemen. We’ll have to drink from the same bottle.”
“Fine by me,” Payne said.
The judge thrust the bottle under Ben’s nose. What was this, some weird initiation rite? Well, when in Rome …
Ben raised the bottle and swallowed. The whisky seared his throat and made his eyes water. Tough drink for a guy whose staple was chocolate milk.
Ben passed the bottle back to Judge Tyler. “I apologize for my informal attire and unkempt appearance, your honor. Mr. Payne just contacted me about an hour ago and I haven’t had a chance to dress appropriately.”
The judge waved his concerns away. “Don’t give it a second thought, son. I don’t give a rat’s ass what people wear outside the courtroom. You could show up in swimming trunks for all I care.” He grinned. “Of course, little Amber might be somewhat shocked.”
Ben did his best to play along. “Nice little girl,” he said, nodding in her direction.
“That she is,” the proud daddy replied. “She’s our precious gift from heaven. Marjorie and I had been trying for years to have children. No luck. Then, just as we had given up hope, God sent us this perfect ray of sunshine.” He rubbed noses with Amber. “That’s what you are. You’re a perfect ray of sunshine.”
“You two haven’t been properly introduced,” the judge said, as he passed the bottle. “This here’s Henry Swain. You can probably get away with calling him Hank. I’ve known Hank since he was a pup. His father and I used to go deer hunting together.”
“I see.” Ben began to be concerned about this tight-knit little legal community. “You must be the district attorney.”
“That he is,” the judge answered for him.
“Good.” Ben rose to his feet. “Shall we go into the courtroom now?”
“No need for that,” the judge said. “I think we can handle this right here.”
“Here?”
“I don’t see why not. We like to handle cases informally in Reeves County, whenever possible. Tell you the truth, there’s not much I need to know. I’ve read the file.”
Ben was stunned. “You’ve read the district attorney’s file?”
“I like to know what’s going on.”
Ben thought it prudent not to comment. At least not yet. “Why has my client been denied bail?”
“That was my decision,” Judge Tyler said firmly. “This is a capital crime, after all, and your client has no permanent ties to this community. Not to mention the fact that some folks might like to throw a rope around his neck and swing him from a cottonwood tree. No, I think he’s best right where he is.”
“When I visited him, I wasn’t able to enter his cell.”
“That’s my order, too. We have good reason to believe he’s a dangerous character. I’m not letting anyone in there unless a peace officer is present. And since I assume you want to talk to your client in private, you’ll just have to do it from the other side of the iron bars.”
Ben drummed his fingers on the chair. “When’s the probable cause hearing, your honor?”
“I’m not much for those big dog-and-pony shows,” the judge muttered.
“But, your honor—the probable cause hearing is my chance to learn about the state’s case.”
“Hell, son, they’ll tell you whatever you want to know. There’s plenty of evidence. Hank’s got statements from half a dozen people who heard your boy threaten to kill that Vuong kid.”
“The fact that he made a threat doesn’t prove—”
“The boy practically confessed when the sheriff arrested him. And his motive is obvious. Do you know how Vuong died?”
Ben had to admit that he did not.
“He was killed by two crossbow bolts, one to the chest, and the other to his neck.”
Ben checked Payne for confirmation. “A crossbow bolt?”
“Yes,” the judge replied. “That’s what you call them big-ass metal arrows crossbows shoot. Made a mess of that kid, let me tell you. The killer fired from close range. And then planted a great big ol’ burning cross right over Vuong’s head. Piece of the cross fell down and caught the body on fire. Good in a way—the flames cauterized the neck wound. Unfortunately they also burned his body to a crisp. Those ASP sumbitches just don’t have no mercy in them.”
“Your honor, I believe you’re jumping to conclusions—”
“What other conclusion is there?”
Ben took a deep breath. There was no sense in alienating the judge. But he couldn’t let him walk all over his client’s rights, either. “I must insist that we have a formal in-court probable cause hearing. So I can cross-examine Mr. Swain’s witnesses.”
“He’ll give you the names of all his witnesses. You can talk to them whenever you want.”
Ben tried to remain composed. “Sir, I want a court reporter in here. So we can make a record for the appellate court to review.”
The judge leaned across his desk. “Mr. Kincaid, I’m afraid you are beginning to get on my nerves. Are you suggesting that you’re already planning to take me up on appeal?”
“I have to consider the possibility, Judge. This case just isn’t being handled according to the proper procedures.”
“Goddamn you big-city lawyers!” Tyler pounded his fist on his desk. “You’ve been in my chambers for less than ten minutes and you’re already telling me how I should handle my cases!”