Chapter 46
Eddie
Most lawyers say the key to winning a trial is in preparation.
I’d done mine.
A text on my phone confirmed that my prep was about to pay off.
I stood outside the courtroom in the dingy hallway, lined with reporters, witnesses, cops and the prosecution team, and I stared at the beige walls and dark, stained tiles on the floor.
I thought about the kind of preparation ordinary lawyers do: assembling briefs, reading reports and statements, workshopping their cross-examinations, writing and rewriting their speeches.
Hundreds, sometimes thousands of hours of prep and planning.
Me? I’d ordered donuts.
The delivery guy exited the elevators wearing an all-weather motorcycle suit and carrying a large plain white box containing a dozen glazed.
I’d already slipped a twenty to the courthouse security guard manning the scanner that morning, told them to send my donut guy straight up and to text me when they let him through.
I wouldn’t want to miss this.
He looked around the hallway. There were maybe thirty people standing around and a few occupying the benches outside the double doors that led to the courtroom. He pulled a delivery docket from a chest pouch. Checked it.
I’d given a detailed description of the intended recipient.
The delivery guy checked the crowd again. Spotted his target.
He wasn’t easy to miss.
I couldn’t hear what was said, but I watched him hand over the box of donuts to a bemused, but somewhat delighted, Detective Ben Larkin. There were two assistant DAs around him, and they smiled and laughed. As did Larkin, when he opened the box.
The delivery guy handed Larkin an envelope, then left.
Larkin shared out the donuts and both of the ADAs took one. No sign of Larkin’s partner, Detective Carey, but I guessed she wasn’t far away. Maybe in the bathroom. He took one of the donuts and disappeared half of it in one bite.
The big smile on the big man’s face turned into a big surprise when he opened the envelope.
I don’t know what he was expecting. Maybe a note from a loved one, a family member or perhaps a kind word of encouragement from his fellow police officers in the precinct.
His face said it all. Warm curiosity became confusion and then swiftly, fear.
He closed the box.
Stood.
Looked around.
I turned my attention back to the dirty floor tiles, just keeping Larkin in my peripheral vision. He put the note back into the envelope and quickly stuffed it into his inside jacket pocket.
The donuts he tossed into the trash.
It looked like the envelope had had the desired effect.
Harry strode up and said, ‘The judge is about to come back out.’
‘How’s Vanessa?’
‘She’s okay, I think. She keeps staring at the judge. Have you noticed?’
‘I haven’t been keeping an eye on her. Maybe she’s pissed that we have a partisan judge. Most people expect a fair trial. It can take a while for the reality to sink in. We need to prepare her for what comes next. Only way out of this is to put the blame on the husband.’
‘Things are about to get rough.’
‘The security footage looks bad. I’ve been thinking, maybe there’s a way to spin it?’
‘Is there a way to spin a wife leaving her husband’s mistress’s, apartment with what looks like the mistress’s head in a bag?’
‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘I think there might be.’