Lies of the Heart (19 page)

“So then this is the doorway that leads to the kitchen,” Richard says, tapping the board with his pointer.

“No, that door,” Billy says poking, “leads to the coatroom.”

“
Oh.
So then this is the window between the kitchen and the small office.”

“Right.”

Some of the jurors appear bored, and even Donna looks like she’s scribbling listlessly on her pad, but Katie watches Billy, notes the way his shoulders are straighter now, how his voice is less defensive, even mildly patronizing as he corrects Richard or points out another seemingly insignificant detail of the recreation building. He looks Richard in the eye, strokes his beard from time to time.

“So you were standing just inside this closet while Nick and the two clients played basketball nearby?” Richard asks.

“Yeah, right there,” Billy says, pointing.

“So you didn’t see the defendant walk into the gym?” Richard’s voice, which had taken on a rhythmic drone before, is noticeably louder.

Billy checks on Donna, pointer raised.

“Mr. Zahn?”

“No.”

“From your position you couldn’t see the defendant or the raised gun, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Mr. Zahn, in your statement you said that the defendant did not smile before he shot Nick. Is that also correct?”

“He’s a good kid, and he—”

“Objection,” Richard says.

“Sustained. Witness will answer Mr. Bellamy’s question.”

“I did
not
see Jerry smile. No, sir.”

“Because when you finally stepped outside of the closet, Mr. LaPlante’s back was to you?”

“No—well, yes, his back was to me, but that’s not why. I could see his face a little.”

“‘A little.’ Okay. So then by your own phrasing you admit that it was virtually impossible to see any clear facial expressions? Even though you were so close?”

“I wouldn’t say impossible—”

“But you
did
at least clearly hear the exchange between Nick and the defendant?”

Billy’s eyes dart to Donna, back to Richard. He pulls at the knot in his tie. “Yes.”

“Well, did he sound angry to you?”

“No, Jerry wasn’t”—he clears his throat, shoots a look at Jerry—“Jerry
isn’t
an angry guy.”

“As a matter of fact, he was great friends with Nick, wasn’t he? Nick was like a father to him, wasn’t he?”

“He was.”

“Okay, well, Mr. Zahn, if you know that Jerry isn’t an angry guy and that he didn’t sound mad, is it at least possible that Jerry did smile and you just couldn’t see it?”

“I guess.”

Richard steps back to the placard, holds his pointer between his hands. He stares at the placard as if he is confused. “So can you show us again how people enter the recreation building, Mr. Zahn?”

Billy shrugs, hits the diagram with the pointer. “There’s a door here and here.”

“So there’s an entrance at the front of the building and one in the back?”

“Yes.”

“Who normally uses that back door?”

“I do. Sometimes Eddie, the recreation director, and his assistant, Daniel. The shed is out there—” he says, and stops.

“So most people enter through—” Richard leaves the sentence open, and Billy pokes the board with the pointer.

“This one,” Billy says, clearly relieved that Richard isn’t going to ask questions about the shed.

Donna leans over to consult with the two women in the front row. “So why do most people come in through this front door?”

“If you walk out this door of the gym,” he says, “then you’re facing the side door of the work-program building. There’s a walkway in between.”

“And how many feet would you say it is between both buildings?”

“Thirty, thirty-five.”

“And how many feet would you say it is from the front door of the work program to this back door of the gym?”

“I have no idea.”

“Can you estimate?

“Maybe eight hundred feet or so.”

“So when you’re working in one building and you’re called into the other, it’s safe to say that you normally use that walkway to get back and forth?”

“Yes.”

“And can people see you walking back and forth between the two buildings?”

“Yes,” Billy says, turning to the jurors, “but we don’t have the windows cleaned very often. The budget gets tight.”

“But the traffic in between both buildings is still noticeable, even if the windows are dirty?”

“I don’t know—”

“Is it fair to say that if you were to walk from the gym to the work building, or vice versa, a number of people would probably see you?”

“I guess so.”

“Mr. Zahn, using the pointer, could you show me what door Jerry used when he walked into the gym on May fifth?”

Billy’s pointer barely touches the placard. “This one.”

“And you’re pointing to what door right now?”

“The back door.”

“So if the defendant left by the front door of the work-program building and used the back door of the gym, is it fair to say that he wanted to travel undetected—”

“Objection. Speculation,” Donna says.

“Sustained.”

Even now Katie can’t picture this—Jerry so methodical, systematically sneaking into the building, but there is relief, too. He must have been capable of it, she tells herself, because he did it. Richard has told her this all along, and Katie finds herself nodding now: capable all along, a darkness hidden inside him that she never detected.

“Mr. Zahn,” Richard says now, “If you yourself were determined to sneak into the gym without being seen by anyone—”

“Objection!”

“Sustained. Move on, Mr. Bellamy.”

“Mr. Zahn, to your knowledge have you ever seen Jerry, or
any
of the Warwick Center clients, ever once use that back door in the almost fifteen years that you’ve worked there?”

Billy’s face flushes a deep crimson. “I don’t think so.”

“Thank you, no further questions.”

Katie doesn’t wait for the Warwick Center people to filter out of the courtroom at the lunch break; she slides toward the middle aisle today and immediately comes face-to-face with Veronica Holden and Jan Evers, who look shocked to see her this close. Katie keeps her glance casual, flicks her eyes away only as she turns up the aisle. Dana rushes behind her into the lobby.

They wait until the hallway clears, until the last Warwick Center people duck around them and leave. Dana pulls on her coat, checks her watch.

“I can’t stay for the afternoon session. I have a client at one-thirty I can’t miss,” she says.

“I’m fine,” Katie says. “I have a handle on it. Go.”

Dana raises her eyebrows. “Everything okay today?”

“Of course. Why?”

“I don’t know, you’re just acting . . . different.”

“You mean confident?”

“I guess, but—”

“Get used to it,” Katie declares.

“
O
-kay,” Dana says, drawing out the word and studying Katie’s face. “I just don’t want you to implode or anything, honey. Between this and the film stuff at night—”

“I’ll call you when I get home tonight.”

“Oh. All right,” she says. “I just want you to be—just be careful with Richard, okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“You said he was slick, right? That he’s up there playacting all the time? I just don’t want you to get too sucked into it.”

“With the jurors, Dana. He isn’t acting with me. He trusts me.” Her sister looks away for a moment.

“What?”

“Just remember that this is his job, okay? That he’ll do whatever it takes to convict Jerry.”

“That’s a good thing, right?”

“Sure, Katie,” Dana says quietly.

Dana holds her in a hug too long.

“Richard’s waiting on me,” Katie says, pulling away roughly and ignoring Dana’s soft exclamation of surprise.

After Dana rounds the corner, Katie steps into the lobby and pulls out her cell phone. She checks to make sure no one is listening—only a lingering court officer and a girl pushing a cart full of cups and water decanters—and pulls a paper out of her purse. She dials, waits.

“Oceanside Realty, this is Elizabeth, how may I help you?”

“Paul Minsky please.”

“May I tell him who’s calling?”

“Burrelli.”

“I’m sorry, what was that name?”

“Burrelli.”

Katie only has to wait about five seconds.

“Hey, Nick, I hoped I had the right number,” comes the same feminine-sounding male voice from her machine last night.

“Actually, this is Nick’s wife.”

“Oh—”

“You said last night that the cottage is still available?”

“Yes,” the man says slowly. “Yes. It is.”

“I suppose we’ll have to take a look at it again.”

Katie can hear him flipping papers around. “Right,” he says. “Okay.”

“This is the one that’s on Topsail Island, I think you said? Nick and I have looked at so many it’s easy to lose track. I’m not even sure I saw that one myself, to be honest.”

“Yes, Topsail Island. That’s right.” He sounds slightly less ruffled. “Mr. Barber—that’s the owner—he liked Nick and asked me to track him down.”

“Well I’m glad he did,” Katie says, and writes down the name: Mr. Barber. “Nick might not be able to make the visit, but I’ll certainly plan to see the cottage the long weekend after Thanksgiving, if that’s good for Mr. Barber.”

She sits in Richard’s office, watching him flip through folders in the tall filing cabinet behind his desk.

“I don’t think Donna’s recross of Billy did much damage,” Richard says, turning to the desk with a file. “If anything, his insistence that Jerry is a sweet kid, as he put it, will help in the end, especially when we show the footage.” Richard sits back in his chair, thumbs through the file.

“How do you do it?” Katie asks him.

“What?” he says without looking up.

“How do you catch them like that and make them forget themselves?”

“I don’t know,” Richard says distractedly as he turns the pages. “Practice.” He pulls a piece of paper from the file, rolls over in his chair to a bookshelf, and runs his finger down the row of book spines.

“You get them to talk when they don’t want to,” Katie says.

“It doesn’t happen every time,” Richard says, his back to her, “but there are techniques.” His finger stops on a thick blue binder. He pulls out the book, rolls his chair over to the desk again. Starts to thumb through it, his attention riveted to the pages. As if Katie isn’t in the room, sitting right across from him, waiting for more.

After a moment he looks up at her, sees her staring. He smiles apologetically. “Sorry, you were saying?” He puts the book on his desk. Gives Katie his full attention now.

“The witnesses. How you make them talk.”

He nods. “Right. Well, sometimes they find themselves saying the exact thing they wanted to keep hidden, because you’ve led them up to it slowly,” he says. “But I’m sure you’ve experienced this before with your documentaries. You must have your own techniques with the people you interview. Ways to help them relax and open up?”