4

In a move that surprised Nikki, Judge Finney said he would rule after he asked Detective Jenkins a few questions. He swore the witness in and took him through a series of background questions about the letters. Stokes seemed to be uninterested in the proceedings, glancing around the courtroom and occasionally sneering at the witness. Nikki couldn’t believe the judge was even thinking about putting this man back on the street.

“Are you familiar with gang activity in and around the Norfolk area?” Finney asked.

“Very familiar, Judge.”

“What can you tell me about the Black Gangster Disciples?”

Jenkins described the criminal activities of the Disciples in a no-nonsense tone that made him eminently believable. Under prompting from Finney, he testified about the dominating presence of the BGDs in the jails throughout the state, including the Norfolk City Jail. Many of their outside gang activities, according to the detective, were directed by leaders presently incarcerated.

“Leaders like Mr. Stokes?” Finney asked.

“Objection,” Landers called out.

“Overruled.”

“Yes,” the witness said. “Leaders like the defendant.”

“Now, take a look at that third letter sent by Mr. Stokes,” Finney instructed.

While Jenkins studied the handwritten note, the defendant glared at the witness.

“What’s the date on top of that letter?”

The detective hesitated. “It actually has two dates: April 6, 2006, and April 7, 2006.”

“Does that strike you as unusual?” Finney asked. The judge’s tone caught Nikki’s attention.

The detective stared at the letter for a moment. “I’m not sure what you mean, Judge.”

Finney leaned back in his swivel chair, twirling his glasses. “Well, it seems to me that it’s an awful short letter to take two days to write. Maybe—what?—five total lines?”

“I guess so.”

“Detective, read that letter into the record. And tell me if it sounds like the kind of letter that was actually written over the course of two days.”

“‘Hey, my man. Bring my old lady by and tell her to bring a crate . . . ,’” Jenkins read. As the detective worked his way through the letter, Finney caught Nikki’s eye and graced her with a wink.

When Jenkins finished, he looked up at the judge. “Short letter,” he said. “Seems to me like it was all written at the same time.”

“The same thing I thought when I first read it,” Finney said, looking at the defendant. “So I started asking myself, ‘What’s going on with the dates?’”

At this, Stokes whispered something angrily to Landers. Landers shook his head without looking at his client. In response, Stokes whispered again, angrier than before, jabbing a finger at a legal pad.

“So here’s what I want you to do,” Finney said. “Start with the first letter and assume that the date is more than just a date. In fact, assume that the date is an encryption key to help you decipher what these letters are really saying.”

The detective studied the first letter and looked up at the judge, still confused.

“For example,” Finney continued, “just for the fun of it. If the date is 4/4/2006, go to the fourth line of the message and the fourth word of that line and write it down. Then for the next letter, which I believe is dated 4/5/2006, go to the fourth line and write down the fifth word. Then for the last letter, dated 4/6/2006 and 4/7/2006, write down both the sixth and seventh words of the fourth line. Then use the same method on the reply letter. Does that make sense?”

The detective nodded, already working on his task. Landers and Stokes argued in loud whispers, and Nikki could feel a motion for a change in legal counsel coming. Mitchell turned and glanced at Nikki, the glint of victory in his pupils. And Finney, the smartest judge Nikki had ever known, sat impassively watching the detective, as if nothing more were at stake than the answers to an LSAT question.

“Okay,” the detective said, working hard to maintain his professional demeanor. “I think I’ve got it.”

“What does it say?” Finney asked.

“We object, Your Honor,” Landers said, though Nikki could tell his heart wasn’t in it.

“On what grounds?”

“Uh . . . this is total speculation. And highly prejudicial.”

At this, Finney actually grinned. “How do you know it’s prejudicial, Counsel? The detective hasn’t even read it yet.”

Stokes grabbed the arm of Landers, causing the lawyer to bend over so Stokes could unleash another tirade into his reddened ear. Landers shook it off and rose again to face Finney. “We have to assume it is, Your Honor, based on the tone of your questions.”

“Overruled,” Finney snapped.

Landers sat down.

The detective looked to the judge for permission to proceed.

“Go ahead,” Finney said.

“Here’s what I get when I apply the methodology you suggested,” the proud detective said. “Stokes’s letters say: ‘Off Carter and confirm.’ The reply of Juice, one day after Carter’s murder, simply says: ‘Done.’”

Finney stroked his chin and studied Stokes and Landers. After a painfully long wait, he spoke into the silence. “Another amazing coincidence, Mr. Landers?” He paused until the silence became uncomfortable. “I’m not only going to allow the confession of Antoine Carter to be submitted as evidence in the drug case, but I’m also going to suggest that Mr. Taylor seek that murder indictment you mentioned earlier.”

Stokes suddenly bolted to his feet, shackles and all, causing the deputy to stand up and place a hand on her gun. “I want a new lawyer,” the defendant spit out. “One who’s not always stoned.”

“Sit down!” Finney barked.

Stokes glared at the judge, then flopped back into his seat.

“You’ll get a new lawyer,” Finney said. “But no more pen pals. I’m ordering the defendant held in solitary confinement pending trial. No mail privileges, no visitation.”

Then Finney turned his attention to a crestfallen Landers. “And if I were you, Counsel, I think I’d watch my tongue.”