Dark Justice (41 page)

“I gather you were overruled.”

“I was. And Zak became a member of the organization.”

Granny turned a page in her outline. “How did that work out?”

“At first, well. Much better than I expected, actually. He had a lot of energy—I have to give him credit for that. He got a lot of new programs rolling, and most of them were successful. I think his energy was contagious. He inspired others in the group to work harder, to become even more dedicated.”

“Was there a downside to having Mr. Zakin in your group?”

“Not at first. But after the incident at Chesterson Laboratories, we all wished we’d never heard of George Zakin.”

Ben whispered in Zak’s ear. “Still think she’s your understanding friend?”

Zak did not respond.

Granny continued questioning. “Could you tell the jury what happened at the Chesterson Laboratories, please?”

“Chesterson was one of the worst animal experimenters in the country, both in volume and degree. They went through hundreds of animals a year, most of them primates, and the experiments they performed on those poor animals were abominable. Pure torture. Killing them slowly to test a new mascara, that sort of thing. So we planned a raid. To set free the chimps imprisoned there.”

“I take it the raid was unsuccessful.”

“No, the raid was a huge success. We got in, got out, and the chimps were freed. But something happened we didn’t plan on. One of the researchers was killed during or near the time of the raid. Needless to say, our group was blamed.”

“Was any particular member blamed?”

Ben rose to his feet. “Objection, your honor. May I approach the bench?”

Judge Pickens nodded. Ben walked to the semi-privacy of the judge’s station up front; Granny came scampering behind him.

“Your honor,” Ben explained, “counsel is about to enter testimony relating to charges that were brought against my client after this Chesterson incident.”

“How do you know?” Granny said. “Are you a mind reader?”

“No, but I’m not a fool, either. And I know that if I wait until after the cat is out of the bag, no ruling on earth will make the jury forget what they’ve heard. Judge, my client was charged with this murder, but he was completely exonerated. The jury voted unanimously for acquittal.”

“Only because Kincaid did some fancy footwork during the trial.”

Pickens’s eyebrows lifted. “This Kincaid?”

“The very same,” Granny said. “He’s the genius who got Zakin off the hook—and back on the streets.”

Judge Pickens looked as if he had an unpleasant taste in his mouth. “You must be very proud of yourself, Kincaid.”

“Your honor, we all know that absent a conviction, evidence of prior arrest and charges is not admissible.”

“That’s not exactly true,” Granny interjected. “It’s not admissible to prove the truth of the matter asserted or to prove that he likely committed the present murder.”

“What other reason could you possibly have?”

“We’re using it simply to explain why Zak was booted out of the animal rights organization and to show that they considered him dangerous. This can come in as evidence of prior bad acts, pursuant to Rule 404b. I jumped through all the appropriate pretrial hoops.”

“That’s true,” Pickens agreed.

“That’s ridiculous,” Ben snorted.

“What’s the matter, Kincaid?” Pickens growled. “You think you’re the only one who has any fancy footwork?”

“Your honor, it’s perfectly obvious she just wants the jury to know that he was tried once before for murder. This will be grossly prejudicial.”

“I’m sure it will be prejudicial to your client, Kincaid. But I believe the probative value outweighs the prejudice in this case. I’m going to let it in.”

“Your honor!” Ben exclaimed. “This is absolutely—”

“I’ve ruled, Kincaid.”

Ben’s face tightened. “I move for leave of court to take an immediate interlocutory appeal on this issue.”

“Denied.”

“Your honor, this is simply wrong!”

Pickens brought out his gavel and pointed it so far forward it practically touched Ben’s nose. “I’ve made my ruling, Kincaid. You can live with it or you can leave. Your choice.”

Ben stomped back to defendant’s table, fuming. That ruling was absolutely contrary to law, and he knew it. It could possibly be the basis for a later appeal, but he doubted that remote possibility would be of much comfort to Zak.

Granny repeated her question, and the witness answered, carefully choosing her words. “Many people believed George Zakin should be blamed.”

Ben grimaced. Another unnecessary twist of the knife from Zak’s “understanding friend.”

“What was the reaction of your organization to all this?”

She pushed a few wisps of hair behind her ear. “Well, after that, the rest of the leadership finally came around to my way of seeing things. They realized he was dangerous, a loose cannon. Turned out he’d been agitating all along for the group to become more militant, to plant bombs, sabotage equipment. He was out of control.”

“Out of control,” Granny repeated, just in case someone missed it. “Dangerous. So what action did your group take?”

“We kicked him out, basically. We didn’t want him.”

“I can understand that,” Granny said somberly. “It’s just a shame that someone else did. No more questions.”

Ben pressed his lips close to Zak’s ear. “You were kicked out? You told me you left! You never said you were kicked out.”

Zak didn’t answer him.

“Well? Is it true?”

Zak shrugged. “I probably wouldn’t have used those words.”

Ben pressed his hand against his forehead. Great. Just great. As if he didn’t have enough to deal with. “When are you going to get a clue, Zak? You don’t keep secrets from your lawyer!”

Zak looked away sullenly, like a little boy scolded but not much chastened.

Ben took his place behind the podium. He had only one arrow in his quiver. He thought it best he fire it off before the jury dwelt too long on what they had just heard. “Ms. Cummings, I don’t want to be indelicate, but isn’t it true that you and the defendant were once … romantically involved?”

“We slept together, if that’s what you mean.” She answered matter-of-factly and without the least trace of embarrassment. “In the early days, before I knew him well. But it didn’t last long. I was never in love with him, and frankly, he was never very good in bed. It wasn’t any big deal.”

“Still,” Ben insisted, “you must have been somewhat … distressed when he left you.”

“Is that what he told you? That he dumped me?” She laughed loudly. “Let me tell you something, Mr. Lawyer. That’s not how it happened. I saw Zak come on to everything female that walked through the door. I didn’t need to be told he would be perpetually unfaithful, that he would always be looking for more women to conquer. And I didn’t care to be part of his harem. So I dumped him.”

Ben took a deep breath. This wasn’t exactly going the way he wanted. “Ms. Cummings, forgive me, but despite your protestations to the contrary, I’m detecting a very … bitter tone in your voice.”

“No, you’re confusing anger with bitterness. I am angry—I think he’s a dangerous, unreliable person, and I think he caused considerable damage to the animal rights cause. But I’m not bitter because he didn’t sleep with me anymore. I didn’t want him to sleep with me anymore.”

“Still, how can we be sure your testimony isn’t motivated by … well …”

“Look, if you’re trying to suggest I just made all this up to get back at him, forget it. I was asked by the prosecutor’s office to tell what I know, so I have. But I’ve got no axe to grind. Frankly, until they called me, I hadn’t thought about Zak for years.”

Ben could see he was getting nowhere with her, and his cross-ex quiver was empty. He hated to end on such an unproductive note, but there was nothing else to ask her about. “No more questions.”

As he took his seat, Ben tried to console himself. She had established that Zak knew how to make a bomb, that he had done it in the past. And that he was “dangerous.” But she hadn’t known anything about the present case. She certainly hadn’t established that he made this bomb, the one that killed Dwayne Gardiner.

Which was true—Julie Cummings hadn’t. But the next witness would.

“T
HE STATE CALLS LEONARD
Cokey to the stand.”

There were some witnesses, Ben mused, you could dress up and make presentable for court, and some witnesses you might as well not waste time trying. Leonard (Ben would be willing to bet he was normally called Lenny) fell into the latter category. Ben had rarely seen anyone who looked more miserable in a suit and tie. His face was nicked in half a dozen places; probably his first shave in weeks, Ben guessed. His sleeves and pant legs were too short; Granny probably found the suit for him in a secondhand store. Even as the bailiff administered the oath, Cokey tugged at his collar like it was strangling him.

“What do you do for a living, Mr. Cokey?” Granny asked.

He squirmed uncomfortably. “I’m a freelance wholesaler.”

Uh-huh, Ben thought. Translation: thief.

“Could you tell us what you were doing on the night of July eleventh?”

“Uh, yeah. I was over at Georgie’s. That’s the pawnshop over on McKinley.”

“And why were you there?”

“I’ve been a bit strapped this month so, uh … I was hocking my TVs.”

Yeah, right, Ben thought. Translation: delivering stolen goods.

“Was there anyone else in the store?” Granny continued.

“Oh sure, sure.” Cokey didn’t seem able to sit still. He kept shifting positions, sitting on his hands. “Georgie was working the bar in the back.”

“The bar in the back? What goes on there?”

“Well …” Cokey craned his neck awkwardly. “That’s where he keeps the handguns but it’s also my understanding that some illegal goods are sold there. From time to time. Of course I wouldn’t know myself from personal experience.”

Ben had had about as much of this shuffle-ball-change routine as he could take. Why didn’t Granny just give the man immunity so he could tell what he knew without all this nonsense?

“Was there anyone else present in the pawnshop?”

“Yeah. Him.” Cokey pointed across the courtroom. “The defendant.”

The jury turned to check Zak, frowns plastered on many faces. What was an upright young conservationist doing in that den of iniquity?

“And where was he?”

“He was at the back bar, doing business with Georgie.”

Granny nodded. “And do you have any idea what business was being transacted?”

“Well, it’s not like I was eavesdroppin’ or anythin’.”

Of course not, Ben thought. Perish the thought.

“But I had to talk to Géorgie, see? So I was waiting around. And I couldn’t help hearing what they were talkin’ about.”

“And what were they talkin’ about?”

“Bombs. Big bombs.”

The people in the gallery held their collective breaths.

“What specifically were they discussing?”

Cokey leaned forward, his hands still pressed beneath his legs. “Georgie was supplying chemicals, see? I don’t remember the names, but according to Georgie, if you mixed them together and ignited them—boom!” He threw his hands up in the air.

“And did the defendant receive these chemicals?”

“Oh, yeah. Paid big bucks for them.”

“And you saw this with your own eyes?”

“I did. I swear. On my mother’s grave.”

“I’m sure that won’t be necessary. Do you know what the defendant planned to do with the chemicals?”

Cokey nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, yeah. Heard enough to know the stuff was for a bomb.”

“Did you hear any discussion of the intended target?”

“Yeah. I heard—”

“Objection,” Ben said. “Calls for hearsay.”

Granny was obviously expecting this one. “Your honor, the hearsay from this Georgie person is being admitted not to prove the truth of the matter asserted, but to put later statements by the defendant in context. And of course the statements from the defendant, being statements against interest by the accused, constitute a hearsay exception.”

“The objection is overruled,” Pickens declared. “Please proceed.”

Cokey leaned toward the jury box. “What I heard was, Georgie asks him, ‘You got plans for this?’ And the other guy, the defendant, he just looks at Georgie real cold-like and says, ‘Yeah. Big plans.’ ”

“Big plans?” Granny parroted. “And this was just two days before the explosion that took Dwayne Gardiner’s life?”

“Yeah. And that ain’t all. Georgie asks him what these big plans are, see?”

“And did Mr. Zakin reply?”

“Oh yeah. He gets all coy and sly-actin’, and he says, ‘I’m going to teach a logger a lesson he’ll never forget.’ ”

The rumble through the courtroom was audible. People turned and stared, eyes widened, across the courtroom. Every eye was focused on Zak. For the first time, they’d heard evidence that portrayed him as not only a bomber, but a bomber with malice. A bomber with a particular target in mind.

“That’s not what I said,” Zak whispered in Ben’s ear. “That stupid weasel got it wrong. What I said was ‘I’m going to teach some loggers a lesson they’ll never forget.’ ”

“Oh, swell,” Ben whispered back. “That’s much better.” He turned and looked at Zak coldly. “You planted that bomb, didn’t you?”

“I was striking a blow for the cause, taking out some machinery. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. I specifically set the thing to detonate in the middle of the night, when there was no chance anyone would be on it.”

“Except that someone was.”

“But the bomb I planted wasn’t in that clearing. It wasn’t on that tree cutter. It was somewhere else, in the Crescent Basin old-growth region. And it was set to go off at three, not one.”

“That’s not going to make any difference to the jury,” Ben shot back.

“Mr. Kincaid!”

Ben looked up abruptly. The Time Machine was trying to get his attention.

“Do you wish to cross-examine or not?”

Oops. He wondered how many calls he had missed while he and Zak were gabbing. “I’ll cross.”

Although, as he made his way to the podium, he wondered why. Cokey might be a total sleaze, but his testimony about seeing Zak buy bomb parts appeared to be essentially accurate. And Ben had a hard time getting his heart into a defense for a man who would set a bomb that—