The jury wasn’t out long after that. The drama didn’t happen in the jury room, it continued in the courtroom. Veronica stood so stiffly while the jurors trailed out it looked as if her spine would snap. ‘You!’ she said quickly as soon as the door closed behind them. ‘You with your …’
Edward ignored her. He hurried to the gate in the rail and up the first few steps. Sterling Greene was faster. He was already hurtling up that aisle. Detective Reynolds stepped out to intercept him. It looked like Sterling would barrel through him, or try, but then he stopped, they exchanged a few words, and walked out together, Sterling turning to direct one last glare at Edward before the detective led him away.
Edward shrugged it off and went to Linda. ‘Thanks.’
She stood and put her hands on him. ‘Just made a call, like any concerned citizen would.’
He chuckled. It was weird when a trial ended, like a soldier being home on unexpected leave, feeling the war still going on. Edward needed to decompress from the constant pressure he’d felt for weeks, leading up to this trial. It was going to be difficult to do the ordinary things in life without being poised to object or react. He kissed Linda right there in the courtroom, but very chastely. At least he hoped so. They walked out holding hands.
But couldn’t go very far. Donald joined them in the basement at Luby’s. Having coffee in cracked ceramic cups. Edward’s just sat there.
‘Now what?’ Donald asked.
But there was no now. There was just then, the future, after whatever was about to happen happened. They couldn’t do anything until then.
Edward’s cell phone finally beeped. Damned jurors, they’d been out an hour. Only an hour. A long, long hour.
When they reassembled in the courtroom the cast had some disappearances, notably the Greenes. And the cops. But the district attorney was there, looking bleak. ‘Good job,’ she said to Edward as he walked by. Her stare saying something else entirely. Her sister possibly charged as an accomplice to murder. It was clear Julia had expected something else as the outcome to this trial.
Judge Roberts looked at the lawyers and at Donald. Veronica hadn’t done the same. She remained rigid, gaze directed only at the judge. She hadn’t met eyes with Edward since he’d turned away from her after the jurors went out.
When the jurors filed in like baby ducks they bore the usual scrutiny with equanimity, most of them with eyes downcast. Jurors always seemed to hate their few moments of trial stardom. But they clearly knew all eyes were on them.
‘I’m told you have a verdict,’ Judge Roberts said. ‘Which of you is the presiding juror?’ The word ‘foreman’ had been replaced. Sexist. A thirtyish Hispanic man at one end of the front row raised his hand. ‘Is your verdict unanimous?’ the judge asked.
The presiding juror rose to nod. ‘Yes, sir.’
‘Why don’t you read it to us then?’ Judge Roberts asked gently. Most judges preferred to do that themselves, or at least read it before anyone else got to hear. It was nicely old school when a judge asked the juror to do it.
Edward stood and urged Donald up too. The presiding juror cleared his throat and, looking nowhere but at the paper, said, ‘We the jury on the charge of kidnapping in the first degree find the defendant not guilty.’
He folded the paper and handed it to the bailiff. There was no sound. Edward was gripping his client’s arm, feeling Donald’s intended scream of joy. Veronica just sat.
Then a rustle started from the audience, as if the words had taken that long to reach them. Somebody clapped, just two or three times. Whispered comments began to reach the lawyers. Edward turned and accepted Donald’s hug, looking past him. Veronica just sat. She declined the judge’s offer to poll the jury, and the judge said, ‘Since that is your verdict, ladies and gentlemen, your service is now concluded and you are free to go.’
Most judges made the jurors return to the jury room one last time and went back there to talk to them, thank them for their service, so forth, because after all they were voters. Judge Roberts just released them on the spot. Two as they filed out stopped to shake hands with Donald. Veronica just sat, not looking at them. But Edward stared thoughtfully at her.
Minutes passed, and the world turned gradually into one in which no trial was looming. It wasn’t until these moments that Edward always realized what a different world that was, Trial World, going to sleep and waking up knowing exactly where he’d be at nine a.m. He looked around for Linda and didn’t see her as he walked out into the hall with his client. The judge didn’t detain them for any post-trial conference, either, though he might call the lawyers and ask them to come in in a couple of days from now. Normally Edward and his opposing counsel would shake hands and murmur congratulations, but clearly Veronica wasn’t in the mood. She’d already gathered up her few things and fled in long, brisk strides.
After Edward accepted Donald’s effusive thanks with a pat on the shoulder, he said, ‘Go celebrate, big guy,’ and went looking for his own celebration, but he found Linda working in another courtroom, her fingers moving quickly while she smiled without looking at him. He gave her a thumbs up and walked out.
Edward didn’t carry a briefcase this morning, his hands were empty. He waited patiently for the elevator and didn’t mind the stops on nearly every floor on the way down. The elevator looked very pretty this afternoon. So did the people in it.
Edward was clothed in a quiet little smile without knowing it. Down on the sidewalk, halfway back to his car, he finally let out a whoop, pumping his fist. A Not Guilty was rare enough for a defense lawyer. Under the circumstances of this case it was huge. The DA was clearly pissed off, but she couldn’t deny he’d done his job. Neither could the State Bar. Edward grew more somber and thoughtful as he resumed his walk. Now he had to decide whether he really wanted to continue to try to be a lawyer. There’d be a certain satisfaction in walking away on a win. Certainly a mic drop moment. He’d be hearing congratulations on this for days if he remained in the courthouse world. The legend continues. He’d …
‘Asshole.’
The world wasn’t supposed to revert to reality that quickly. Edward turned and saw Sterling Greene around the corner he’d just passed. Sterling no longer wore his suit jacket. His shoulders strained his white shirt. Edward thought he could probably outrun Sterling Greene on a given day, but the tire iron in Sterling’s hand added several angles to that problem. It could be a hurled weapon as well as a club.
‘How did you—?’
‘They didn’t arrest me, asshole, they just wanted to question me, and I told them to fuck off, see my lawyer.’
Edward closely studied his red face, wondering if he could goad the big man into a stroke before Sterling killed him.
‘So you want to hire me?’
Inappropriate humor had gotten Edward in trouble before, and this occasion was no exception. Sterling screamed and rushed him. Edward ducked his shoulder. They were too close, if he turned to run Sterling would bash the back of his skull. He could feel the blow coming. If Edward got low enough he might be able to flip the charging titan over his back, but Sterling probably didn’t have enough speed for that. So Edward moved sideways, hoping to dodge his initial rush and slip to the side. But the tire iron was already descending. Edward wondered if it would hurt or if darkness would just overwhelm him suddenly. At that moment, the latter sounded great.
He was screaming himself, he knew. The clash of sounds were dueling if the men were not. Edward waited for the blow.
And something happened. What happened was nothing happened. Edward continued his slide out of the way and looked up. A hand even bigger than Sterling’s had closed over Sterling’s, holding the tire iron in place. A dark brown hand.
Sterling was straining, but Donald just held him easily in place. Then Donald pushed his face forward, only an inch from Sterling’s. The businessman flinched. He released his grip on the iron, and Donald let him. It clattered to the sidewalk.
‘And I’m going to get you charged with that drive-by too,’ Edward said. ‘You’re the only one who wanted him dead so he couldn’t testify, then wanted both of us dead so this trial would never happen.’
He waited for some denial, but Sterling only shook a finger at both of them and didn’t have to say, This isn’t over. Then he stalked away, trying to maintain his dignity. Edward stifled his urge to laugh. He called after his departing attacker, ‘And I am pressing assault charges.’ Sterling raised one finger without looking back.
Then Edward did laugh. ‘Thanks, Donald.’ He held out his hand.
Donald took it. ‘Thought he might try somethin’. I owe you more than that, man. Thank you.’
Edward waited for the manly moment to end. He was grateful when his cell phone squalled for his attention.
It was David Galindo’s voice on the other end, the assistant DA and Edward’s former colleague and adversary. ‘The DA wants to see you,’ David said without preamble.
‘Of course she does,’ Edward said.