Dark Justice (43 page)

“What’s going on?” Zak asked, yanking Ben’s shoulder. “He’s not going to testify against me, is he?”

Ben nodded curtly.

“Would you state your name, please?” Granny asked, after Rick was sworn.

“Rick Collier. That’s short for Richard.” Ben noted that Rick was pointedly not looking toward defendant’s table.

“And what do you do for a living?”

Rick shrugged. “Well, it’s not much of a living, but I’m currently working in the Green Rage organization.”

“Really? So you worked with George Zakin?”

“Extensively. I was generally considered the next in the chain of leadership. After Zak.”

“What’s going on here?” Zak whispered in Ben’s ear. “He can’t testify against me. He’s my friend!”

I wonder, Ben thought silently. I just wonder.

Granny continued her direct examination. “Would you say you spoke with Mr. Zakin on a regular basis?”

“Oh, yeah.” He flipped his ponytail back. “Like every day.”

“About Green Rage matters?”

“Sure. But not only that. We confided in each other, you know? We told secrets.”

Secrets. The word carved out a hollow space in Ben’s chest. He didn’t like the sound of that at all.

“Would you say Mr. Zakin was a dedicated environmentalist?”

“Oh, yeah. Absolutely. And then some. He was always pushing. Always urging us to do a little more.”

“A little more … what?”

Rick shifted his weight. He was still studiously not looking toward defendant’s table. “Well, Zak’s favorite line was ‘It’s not enough to talk the talk. You gotta walk the walk.’ ”

“Walk the walk,” Granny echoed. “And what exactly did that mean?”

“It meant take action. It’s true. People in the environmental world tend to gripe a lot about everything that’s wrong, but they’re hesitant to do anything about it. But not Zak. He was always ready to take action to promote the cause. He was willing to do anything. Absolutely anything.”

“Like planting bombs?” Granny suggested.

“Objection,” Ben said. “Leading.”

Judge Pickens waved his hand in the air, as if he thought this objection was the most trivial annoyance in the world. “Sustained,” he said wearily.

Granny amended her question. “What kind of action was he advocating?”

“Tree spiking. Sabotaging cars and equipment. And planting bombs.”

“Mr. Zakin advocated bombs?”

“Oh hell, yeah. Man, he was the expert on the subject. He could tell you all about what kind of ingredients to get to make a certain kind of bomb. Where to get them. How to make a small, contained implosion or a large, widespread explosion. Apparently he’d done a lot of bomb work in the past. Green Rage had never been involved in that sort of thing before. But as soon as Zak was on board, he started pushing for it.”

“Were the other members receptive to this idea?”

“A few were. Hotheads like Al Green. But most of us thought it was too dangerous. Sure, we want to save the forests, but despite what people say, we really aren’t willing to put trees before people.”

Granny adopted a level, earnest tone. “Mr. Collier, I need to ask you another question—a very important question, so please think carefully before answering. Do you know if George Zakin has ever planted a bomb?”

Rick didn’t hesitate a moment. “Oh, yeah. I know he has.”

“Do you know if he planted the bomb that killed Dwayne Gardiner?”

Again no hesitation. “I’m certain of it.”

“And why is that?”

Rick turned to face the jury before answering. “Because he told me he was going to do it.”

A gasp pealed out from the back of the gallery. More audible murmuring and whispering followed. Judge Pickens banged his gavel on the bench, but a good half a minute passed before he brought the courtroom back to silence.

Granny didn’t hold back. “And why would he want to plant a bomb? To further the environmental cause?”

“Nah.” Rick’s lips turned down at the edges. “To get Dwayne Gardiner.”

The air in the courtroom seemed to become thick, heavy, as if everyone and everything were suspended in time.

“Let me make sure I understand you, Mr. Collier. Are you saying Zakin planted the bomb with the express intention of harming Mr. Gardiner?”

“I think so, yeah.”

“And why would he want to do that?”

Rick glanced up at the judge, the jury, out into the gallery—almost everywhere except at Zak. “Because he was sleeping with Gardiner’s wife.”

If the reaction in the courtroom had been audible before, it was near deafening now. Several people—reporters, probably—leaped to their feet and headed out the back doors to spread the word of this major new development. Whispering and gossiping went from a buzz to a roar. Judge Pickens pounded his gavel furiously, threatening to clear the courtroom, trying to restore order.

Ben took advantage of the momentary chaos to have a short, curt conversation with his client. He was so angry he could barely speak. “You told me you didn’t know Gardiner,” he said bitterly. “You said you had no connection to him.”

“But I didn’t!” Zak said, imploringly. “I never met him till that night in the bar. It was his
wife
—”

Ben placed his hand on his forehead. This was just hopeless.

As soon as the courtroom was quiet enough for her to proceed, Granny did so. “And how do you know Mr. Zakin was having an affair with Lu Ann Gardiner?”

“He told me,” Rick replied. “Hell, he told me frequently. I gotta tell you, Zak may be a great environmentalist, but when it comes to women, he’s kind of a pig. Of the chauvinist variety.”

“How do you mean?”

“He was constantly trying to pick up women, in some of the sleaziest ways you can imagine. He’d lie, cheat, steal—whatever it took.”

“And is this how he attracted the attention of Mrs. Gardiner?”

“More or less, yeah.”

“How do you know?”

“I was there when it happened. I was in the bar when he first picked her up.”

“And when was that?”

“Oh, about three weeks before the murder. Apparently they really hit it off, ’cause they were banging away”—he stopped, looked up at the judge—“oh—excuse me. They were, uh, engaging in, uh, carnal relations every chance they got. Zak was having a great time. Till the angry husband found out.”

“And when was that?”

“Just before the murder. Zak found out when Gardiner met him outside the bathroom at Bunyan’s.”

“Were you there?”

“No. But Zak told me all about it. Told me Gardiner was acting real weird, almost crazy-like. Said he threatened Zak, so Zak threatened back.”

“Was Mr. Zakin disturbed by this encounter?”

“Very. Zak has a short temper, and he was having too much fun with Lu Ann to give her up. So he started thinking of ways to put the husband—Gardiner—out of the picture.”

“To put him out of the picture—permanently?”

“That’s what I think happened, yeah.”

“And why do you think that? Did you see him plant the bomb?”

“Unfortunately, no. But I did see him leave camp that night with a full backpack. In retrospect, I realize the bomb was probably stuffed in there. And he left with something else—the Sasquatch suit.”

“That’s a lie!” Zak hissed in Ben’s ear.

Granny blinked. “The Sasquatch suit?”

Rick nodded. “Right.”

“Did that belong to Green Rage or to George Zakin?”

“Well, actually, there were two of them. We had one when Zak came, but he didn’t think it looked real enough, as if he was an expert on what Bigfoot really looks like. So he bought his own.”

“And why would he leave with the suit in the middle of the night?”

“Zak loved running around in that costume, hovering around the periphery of campsites, trying to bait poor suckers into calling in Bigfoot sightings. He had this idea that if enough of those calls came in, the Forest Service would have to take them seriously. And if the forest was identified as the habitat of an endangered species, logging would have to stop.”

“That’s a lie!” Zak shouted, springing to his feet.

Pickens pounded his gavel furiously. Ben grabbed Zak’s arm and pulled him back into his chair.

“Mr. Kincaid—” Pickens started.

“I’ll take care of it, your honor.” He gave Zak a look that spoke volumes.
Stay in your seat and shut up!

Granny continued. “What time did Mr. Zakin leave the Green Rage campsite?”

“It was a little after midnight.”

“And do you know when he returned?”

“Sure. I was still up. It was around two in the morning.”

“Two in the morning,” Granny repeated. “Shortly after the murder. Thank you, Mr. Collier. No more questions.”

Ben looked up and saw every face in the courtroom, including those in the jury box, staring his way. But they weren’t looking at him—they were looking past him, at Zak.

And Ben knew why. Before, there might have been some measure of doubt in the brains behind those eyes. But not any longer, not after this testimony. Now every one of them thought they were staring into the eyes of a coldblooded killer.

Z
AK GRABBED BEN’S SHOULDER
just as he was rising to cross. “He’s jealous,” Zak whispered.

Ben froze. At the moment he really didn’t want a damn thing to do with this client of his. But he supposed he had to listen. “Jealous?”

“Sure. That’s what this is all about. He’s always been jealous. Jealous ’cause they made me the top man on the team—promoted me over him. Jealous ’cause I was always able to get the chicks—and he couldn’t. You think he was in that bar just for a tall cool one? He was trying to get laid. But it never happened. I could do it; he couldn’t. Plus, I had kind of a side thing with Molly, and he was pissed about that. Plus, he’s sweet on Deirdre.”

“Deirdre?”

“Right. He wants her bad. But she’s not interested. And”—he fell silent for a moment—“he thinks, anyway, that she and I are … intimate. That’s why he’s turned on me.”

Ben nodded, then walked to the podium. It was possible, of course. God knows Rick must have some motive for turning on his friend and colleague, and that could be it.

Or, Ben mused, it could just be that Rick thinks Zak is a murderer and he has a moral obligation to tell what he knows. A disturbing possibility.

Ben cut to the chase. “Mr. Collier, it’s a fact that you and Zak have been close friends, isn’t it?”

“We’ve worked closely together. I never considered him a friend.”

“Did he consider you a friend?”

“I don’t know. Probably.”

“Do you think he trusted you?”

“I don’t know.” Rick pulled himself up, almost defiantly. “If he trusted me not to tell that he murdered someone, then he made a mistake. I don’t countenance murder, not for any cause. And I won’t cover it up, either.”

Ben frowned. This wasn’t going to get him anywhere. “Isn’t it true that you were jealous of your friend Zak’s … success with women? A success you never had.”

“Absolutely not. I thought he was a sexist slimeball. Sure, I like women, and I like to be with them. But not if it means treating women in that abusive, degrading way. Leading them on. Lying. Trying to make it with three different women at once. I just won’t do it.”

Swell, Ben thought. Strike two. What could he try next?

“What about Deirdre? The dendrochronologist on the Green Rage team?”

Rick’s eye twitched. “What about her?”

“You’re in love with her, aren’t you? You wanted her. And Zak had her. Not you.”

Rick took a deep breath, then released it. “It’s true that I think Deirdre deserves something better than that … philandering pig who can’t keep his zipper zipped. But then, I think every woman deserves better than that. And besides, I’m involved with someone else.”

Ben sighed. Strike three—and you’re outta there. He was going to have to try a different approach. Nothing he said was going to make the jury forget what they’d heard from this witness. The most he could hope for was to give them something else equally memorable. “Mr. Collier, you understand the difference between fact and supposition, don’t you?”

“Sure.”

“When you’re testifying, you’re supposed to give the jury facts. But I noticed that a lot of times, you were giving them supposition—which is a nice way of saying you were just guessing.”

“Is this a question?” Granny asked.

“I’ll get to it.” Ben flipped hurriedly through the notes he had taken during Rick’s direct examination. “For instance, you said that you were certain Zak built and planted the bomb that killed Gardiner. But you didn’t actually see him make the bomb, did you?”

“Well, no.”

“And you didn’t see him plant the bomb.”

“Of course not.”

“You never actually saw him with a bomb in his hands.”

“No. But his backpack—”

“His backpack was filled with something. But you don’t know what it was. It might’ve been a bomb, or it might’ve been his dirty laundry. You don’t actually know, right?”

“Well, I think we can assume—”

“So now you’re assuming, is that right? And assuming, of course, is just another word for guessing.”

“I thought it was logical—”

“You weren’t put on the stand to play Sherlock Holmes, sir. You were called to tell what you knew. What you
knew
. And you don’t know what Zak had in his backpack, right?”

“I suppose.”

“And you don’t know if he made or planted that bomb, right?”

Rick caught his breath, took a few moments to think. “He told me he was going to take Gardiner out of the picture.”

“Did he? Were those his words? Or yours?”

Rick bit down on his lips. “Well, I don’t remember his exact words.”

“You’d better, because this is absolutely critical. We need to know if Zak really said this or if it’s something that came out of your imagination. What did Zak actually say?”

Rick paused. Ben could almost see the wheels turning inside his brain. “I think what he actually said was ‘I’m going to take care of Gardiner.’ ”

“Take care of him? Now that’s quite a bit different, wouldn’t you say?”

“Not really.”

“Take care of him could mean anything. That could mean he’s going to let the air out of Gardiner’s tires or pour a beer down his pants. Or stop seeing his wife.”