Silent Son (44 page)

“Your complete name,” Jennifer said. “First and last name.”

“Granville Alcott Lawson.” There was a hint of pride in the response.

“Good. And where do you live?” Jennifer was standing close, shielding him from the rest of the room.

“With my mom,” Granville said. “Uh, I’m with Dad now, but I’m gonna go back to my mom’s tonight.”

“Okay,” Jennifer said. “And how old are you?” Take it slow and easy at first was the plan. Nonthreatening, irrelevant background.
Slowly and gently get him acclimated. Then move to the hard stuff.

“Eight years old.”

“Okay, and—”

“Your Honor!” King was up, and he had fire in his eyes. “I would like to voir dire the witness on what he’s been told about
today’s procedure!”

Gardner rose to his feet. This was a challenge to his integrity. “Approach the bench, Judge?” he asked.

“I fear that Mr. Lawson may have instructed the witness about the special arrangements we’ve made today,” King continued.

“Your Honor!” Gardner was angry now. King was playing to the jury.

“To the bench, Mr. King!” Judge Hanks roared.

The attorneys hustled up on the platform.

“Keep your voices down!” Judge Hanks ordered. “Now what’s your problem, Mr. King?”

King looked at Gardner. “I have reason to believe that Mr. Lawson may have tipped off his son as to the substitutions we’ve
made here today. Told the boy to look in the crowd—”

“That’s a lie!” Gardner said, clenching his fist.

“Keep your voice down!” Hanks admonished.

“What do you propose that we do, Mr. King?” the judge asked.

“Let me question the boy,” the attorney said.

“No way!” Gardner snapped.

“Gentlemen, please! No more byplay.
I’ll
ask the questions. Now return to your seats!”

Gardner glared at King, and King glared back. Then they turned to their respective sides.

“Jury please return to the bus for a few moments,” the judge said. This procedure was not for their ears. When they had cleared
out, Hanks looked at Granville. “I need to ask you a few questions,” she said.

“Okay,” Granville replied.

Gardner clutched his hands in front of him and stared down at the table.

“Did you talk to your dad about what was going to happen here today?” the judge asked.

“Uh-huh,” Granville said. “Uh, yes.” He remembered.

“And what did your dad say?”

Gardner held his breath. That was a loaded, open-ended question.

“To do my best,” Granville replied.

Gardner let out his breath.

“And did he tell you who would be here or where they might sit?”

Granville frowned. He didn’t understand.

“Did your dad tell you to look in a certain spot when you came into the courtroom?”

Granville stared up at the judge, and a light came into his eyes. “Yes,” he said.

Gardner’s heart sank. This was it.

King smirked on the other side. He smelled blood.

“And where did he say to look?” Hanks continued. If the answer was “in the back of the room,” it was all over.

Gardner’s heart froze.

“At Miss Jennifer,” Granville replied. “Only at Miss Jennifer.”

King stopped smiling, and Gardner took a deep breath. That was the right answer. The
only
answer.

“Anyplace else?” Hanks asked. “Did he ask you to look anyplace else?”

Granville didn’t hesitate. “No,” he said.

Judge Hanks looked at King. “I find no tampering, Mr.King. No tampering whatsoever. Now let’s get on with the case!”

Brownie was in the copilot’s seat of the state police chopper. He’d been moving at racing speed since yesterday afternoon,
and now he was in the home stretch. His stomach jiggled against the seatbelt as they hit a downdraft. The weather was touch
and go en route, with rainstorms and cumulus clouds across Pennsylvania. It was going to be rough, no matter what.

It was amazing, really, what he’d learned. The old lady had actually agreed to talk to him. She’d invited him into the mansion,
sat him in a luxurious wing chair, and even served him tea. He’d hit her up front with the allegations, his suspicions. He
laid out the evidence he’d gathered so far. And despite the fact that her own grandson was on the hook, she’d kept talking.
There was no admission, no smoking gun, no actual evidence. But Brownie got his answer. The bizarre connection that tied the
whole thing together. She didn’t come out and say it, but it was there, in the deep, deep sadness of her dark brown eyes.

Brownie conferred with the pilot, and a call was placed to police headquarters through a radio link-up with air traffic control.
He’d telephoned his lab partner, Sam Jenkins, earlier, and instructed him to get a cellular phone out to Bowers Corner ASAP.
In the rush since yesterday, he’d been unable to reach Gardner. And now they needed to talk. Even if the prosecutor was in
trial.

“Sam?” Brownie tried to confirm that the call had gone through.

“Yeah, Brownie.” It was Sam.

“Where are you?” The connection was broken by static, but the words came through clearly.

“At Bowers. Like you said.”

Brownie put the mike to his lips. “Trial goin’ on?”

“Yeah. They’re all inside.”

Brownie clicked the mike again. “Take the phone in to Lawson. Put him on.”

There was a hesitation. “Okay,” Jenkins said. There was another pause, as background noise and mumbles came through the speaker.

Finally there was an answer. “Brownie?” Gardner’s voice was hushed and excited. “Where are you?”

“In the air,” Brownie answered. “I know you’re in trial, so I’ll make this fast.” There were more mumbles in the background.

“Granville’s testifying!” Gardner whispered, his voice clearly pained.

“How’s he doin’?”

“Just getting started. I can’t stay on long.”

“Okay,” Brownie said. “Here it is. I’m on my way back home. Got one more stop to make before I report in. But I need your
authority to do something—”

“What?” Gardner gasped hurriedly.

“Dig up a body,” Brownie said.

The line seemed to go dead.

“Gard? Did you get that?” There were more mumbles in the background. “Gard?”

“Jesus,” Gardner said. He’d gotten the message.

“Just say it’s okay. That’s all. I need permission from the State’s Attorney. And that’s you.”

“Brownie…” Gardner was mixing in with the mumbles. “What… who…”

The transmission was breaking up.

“No time for that now,” Brownie snapped. “Just say it. Yes or no!”

The line cleared again for an instant. “Do it,” Gardner said, “but you’d better have a good explanation—”

“Don’t worry,” Brownie said. “It’ll blow your mind—” He stopped talking. The connection had gone to all static now, and the
call was lost.

Brownie clicked off the mike and hung it on the hook. The hills of western Pennsylvania were rising below, and the Maryland
border was fading under the fuselage. They’d be down soon, and the painful truth would finally be laid bare in the sun.

* * *

Jennifer stood next to the witness stand and looked into Granville’s eyes. “I’m going to ask you some questions,” she said.
“About the day you went to the cave. Do you remember that day?”

“Objection!” King said, “leading!”

“It’s permissible to lead a child witness, Judge,” Jennifer said.

“I agree,” replied Hanks. “Overruled. Proceed, Counsel.”

“Do you remember going out to the cave with your classmates?” Jennifer repeated.

“Yes,” Granville said tentatively. The visit with Gardner had revived at least that much memory.

“And do you remember how you got out there?”

“Bus,” Granville said.

Gardner tried to listen, but Brownie’s call had broken his concentration. Dig up a body? What the hell had Brownie found?
He looked at Granville, so small and vulnerable, trying hard to be strong. In a few moments, it would all be over. Brownie
was racing at them from one end, Granville was crawling from the other. And their fate would meet somewhere in the middle.

“What did you see in the cave?” Jennifer asked.

“An angel,” Granville said. That part was clear.

“The Angel of Crystal Grotto,” Jennifer said.

“Object,” King said. “She’s testifying, not the boy.”

Hanks shot an annoyed look at the defense attorney. “Overruled!”

“Okay,” Jennifer said. “After the visit to the cavern, where did the bus go?”

A dark cloud passed over Granville’s head. His skin seemed to go paler, and he began to shift nervously in his chair.

“Do you remember where the bus went after it left the cave?” Jennifer repeated.

Granville did not answer. The cave was as far as he’d been willing to go in his mind. Now he was being asked to travel further,
and it was taking its toll.

Gardner felt a sweat line forming on his brow. This was agony.

“You went down the road…” Jennifer prompted in an expectant voice. “Down the road to visit…” She was leading heavily now,
trying to get her witness to fill in the rest of the sentence.

“Judge!” King barked. “This is too much! Now she’s taken over the questions and the answers!”

“Quiet, Mr. King!” Hanks snapped. “Let her proceed!”

“After you left the cave,” Jennifer continued, “your teacher said you could make a stop before going home. Do you remember
that?”

Granville was fighting a battle within. “Yes,” he finally said.

“And do you remember
where
the teacher said you could stop?”

Granville was biting his lip to keep from crying. The memory was eating through the barrier. “Bowers,” he said sadly.

Jennifer shot a look at Gardner. His face was as white as his son’s. There was fear, and anger, and shame. All mixed in. This
was
his
idea. To put the boy through the wringer and squeeze out the past. He’d insisted on it, almost from the beginning. And now
that it was happening, there was a feeling of regret. Gardner had gotten what he wanted. But now, at the eleventh hour, he
was wondering if it was worth this much pain.

“So the bus made a stop here,” Jennifer said. “At Bowers Corner.”

Granville was holding on. “Yes,” he said, the words pushed out of his mouth by a convulsion in his chest.

“Now, I want you to come down here,” Jennifer said, pointing to a spot by her side.

Granville opened his eyes wide and stood up.

That brought King to his feet, and Jacobs right behind him. “Object!” they said. This was an obvious ploy to get the boy out
in the audience.

“What are your intentions, Miss Munday?” Judge Hanks asked. She too had been caught off guard by the maneuver.

“I’d like him to go to the front door with me, and then retrace the steps he took on the day of the incident,” Jennifer said.

Judge Hanks looked at King and Jacobs. “That’s permissible.”

King scowled. “Object,” he repeated. Jacobs shook his head.

“Overruled,” Hanks answered. “Go ahead, Counsel.”

Jennifer walked Granville to the door. With her hand on his narrow shoulder, she kept him in a straight line that took him
directly to the starting point. When they arrived, Jennifer gave Granville a gentle tap to turn him around.

Gardner looked over at his son. The boy looked like he was going to faint. He was beginning to shake, and his face was as
colorless as death.

“Now I want you to think back,” Jennifer said softly. “To the time after you went to the cave. When your teacher brought you
here to Bowers Corner.”

Granville’s eyes were spinning now, and he looked like he was about to go into a spasm.

Gardner had seen enough. He stood up and walked toward his son.

“What do you think you’re doin’?” King said nastily as Gardner passed by.

“Go to hell!” the prosecutor snarled.

“Mr. Lawson?” Judge Hanks had no idea what was happening.

Gardner didn’t answer. He walked over to Granville and took his hand. This had gone far enough. He was going to take the boy
out. Out of the door. Out of the case. Gardner pulled on the boy’s hand, but Granville resisted. “No, Dad,” he said with a
sob.

Gardner looked into Granville’s eyes. There was terror in them, but also resolve. He did not want to give up. “We can leave
now,” Gardner whispered, a quiver in his own voice.

“No,” Granville repeated. “I want to stay!” The dam was about to break.

* * *

When Brownie arrived at the Maple View Memorial Park, the backhoe was already in position. He’d called and arranged it with
the caretaker, then scrambled from the helicopter to a waiting car. And now he was in the field of marble monuments, ready
to unearth the final piece of the puzzle.

The sun was hot, but the shade trees in the secluded corner of the lot shielded the grave from the burning rays. Brownie waved
the hoe operator into position and gave a thumbs-up to dig.

The
whrrr
of the engine rattled through the air as the hoe took its first bite of dirt. Another roar was followed by another gulp of
root-infested sod.

In a few minutes, the hoe operator stopped and signaled okay with his thumb and forefinger.

Brownie looked into the hole. The top of a burial vault had been exposed. He nodded his head, and the man hooked a cable to
it.

In another second, the heavy metal cap had been lifted free. Brownie peered into the shadows.

“Want me to pull that out too?” the operator asked.

Brownie signaled no, and jumped down into the vault. Then he loosened the bolts in the coffin, held his breath, and raised
the lid.

“Are we proceeding or not?” Judge Hanks demanded. Gardner, Jennifer, and Granville were still at the door, and it was not
clear whether they were going to stay in or go out.

“We’re ready, Your Honor,” Jennifer said.

Granville gave his dad’s hand a mighty squeeze.

“Can you ask Mr. Lawson to sit down?” King inquired. There was still a nasty twang in his voice.

Gardner turned to the court. “I’m here for support, Judge. Miss Munday will continue to ask the questions.”