I tell one of her nurses who I am, and she informs Nicole, who comes right out. She is doing remarkably well, and is wrapped in bandages around her upper body, so as to help her broken collarbone heal. But she is up and around, albeit gingerly, and though she looks pale, it is hard to believe that it's only a few days since she was lying unconscious behind those rocks.
The tension between us is obvious. No sooner do we say hello to each other than I feel a need to change the subject. I look around the house. “I forgot how amazing this place is.”
She smiles. “My father wanted us to live here, remember? He built the house for me even before I was born.”
“Looking back, I can't remember how I had the courage to tell him we wouldn't.”
She laughs. “You made me tell him.”
“Even then I was a man among men.”
“You stand up to him better than most.”
I nod; that's probably true. “How are you feeling?”
“Pretty well. I mean, I don't get shot that often, but I think I'm recovering rather quickly.”
“I'll never forgive myself for letting this happen to you,” I say.
She chooses not to respond to that, and changes the subject. “I saw what happened with Victor Markham on the news tonight. Does it mean you're going to win?”
“Not necessarily, but it certainly helps. Closing arguments are tomorrow.”
She nods. “Have you had your dinner? Would you like something to eat?”
I shake my head no. “Nicole, I'm not sure we finished what we needed to say.”
She tenses up. “Don't, Andy. I didn't need to say anything, and you said a lot more than I wanted to hear.”
“I'm sorry … it's not how I wanted it to end.”
She smiles a slight, ironic smile. “See? We do have something in common.”
I start to tell her again how sorry I am, but she can't listen anymore. She just shakes her head, turns, and goes back to her room. I let myself out of her house and I head back to mine.
Tara is waiting for me at home, tail wagging, to congratulate me on a good day in court. Laurie arrives and shares Tara's enthusiasm, which is tempered by the dose of realism which Kevin soon provides, and with which I concur.
The fact is that Willie Miller remains in a very precarious situation. Nothing has been proven against Victor Markham, and it is unfortunately not up to our jury to ponder or even consider his guilt or innocence. They are empaneled to judge only Willie, and the evidence against him remains overwhelming. Whatever might or might not have happened on that night all those years ago, it does not mean that Willie Miller is innocent of the Denise McGregor murder.
Laurie and I are going over my closing argument, which will follow Wallace's tomorrow. Our thrust will be two-pronged: We will contend that Willie was framed, and we will serve up Victor Markham as the person who framed him. I believe it is a winning strategy, but I've been wrong before.
Pete Stanton calls, asking if we can meet before court tomorrow. He's received a report regarding the Betty Anthony testimony, and he wants to begin an investigation of Victor Markham immediately. We agree to meet for a quick cup of coffee.
Kevin and Laurie leave by ten o'clock, a comparatively early night for this trial. I sleep well tonight; the only time I wake up is when Tara's tail hits me in the face. I reach out and scratch her stomach, and the next thing I know, it's morning.
Pete is pumped to go after Victor Markham, and the prospect of doing so has apparently caused him to at least temporarily forget how much he hates me for attacking him on the stand. During breakfast, I take him through the entire story of the photograph and the money in my father's estate, right up to the present moment. He feels he can build a case against Victor, but we both know it won't be in time to help Willie with the jury.
The press this morning has been filled with news of the trial; Victor Markham's potential downfall has changed it from a big story to a mega story. I'm being cautiously praised by the same pundits who've been calling me overmatched, but they still feel we have an uphill battle ahead of us.
The crowds outside the courthouse are much larger the next morning, and there are far more media present. When Wallace stands to deliver his closing argument before a packed gallery, the courtroom feels considerably more tense than it has at any time during the trial.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, you're in the home stretch now. I'm going to make a few remarks, and then Mr. Carpenter will do the same. Following that will come the most important moment of this trial, when Judge Henderson instructs you about your responsibilities under the law. He will tell you a great deal, but the most important thing he will say is that you must follow the evidence.
“So I am here to ask that you not take your eyes off of that evidence, through our statements and through your deliberations. Mr. Carpenter will talk of an alleged murder that took place over thirty-five years ago, a murder for which no body has ever been found. He will also talk of an alleged conspiracy, revealed only through hearsay testimony, and conveniently withheld for all these years, right up until the eve of your deliberations.
“He will try to substitute another villain, Victor Markham, for the one he represents, Willie Miller. But it was not Victor Markham's blood and skin under the fingernails of Denise McGregor. It was not Victor Markham that was seen standing over the victim by a very credible eyewitness. It was not Victor Markham whose fingerprints were all over the murder weapon. And it is not Victor Markham who has a history of attacking women when under the influence of alcohol.
“The only person all that evidence points to is Willie Miller, and that is who you are here to judge. I ask that you find him guilty as charged.”
Wallace offers me a slight nod and the trace of a smile as he sits down. I know that he's feeling justifiably pleased that he's done a fine job, and thoroughly relieved that his job is over. It's now my turn, and it seems like every eye in the courtroom simultaneously shifts to me.
When I took on this case, I convinced myself there was a chance Willie was innocent. I need to do that to perform at a peak level. But back then I only believed in the possibility of his innocence, and I have now reached a certainty of it. It puts far more pressure on me to win, and it is that pressure that threatens to suffocate me as I stand to give my closing argument.
Just before I begin, I glance toward the back of the gallery and see Wally McGregor, in court for the first time, sitting up straight and waiting for justice for his family. This one's for you, Wally.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I believe that Victor Markham was one of a group of men who raped and murdered Julie McGregor many years ago. But on one point I agree with Mr. Wallace: You are not here to decide that case. And that murder, horrible though it may be, is your concern for one reason and one reason only. It became the motive for Victor Markham to murder Julie's daughter, Denise McGregor, who had learned and was about to reveal the truth.
“He took the life of a mother, then waited almost thirty years to wipe out her offspring.
“But you cannot make him pay the price for either of those deaths. That is for another jury to do, and believe me, I will not rest until they have done just that. What you can do is make sure that Victor Markham does not claim still another victim- my client, Willie Miller.
“There is a great deal of evidence against Willie Miller, and Mr. Wallace did an outstanding job presenting it. But every single shred of it can be explained consistent with Victor Markham using his awesome power to frame him for the murder.
“Mr. Wallace talked about what Judge Henderson will tell you. But he left out the most important part. The judge will say that in order to convict, you must consider Willie Miller guilty beyond a reasonable doubt. I would respectfully suggest that you are up to your ears in reasonable doubt.”
I walk over to Willie and put my hands on his shoulders.
“This man has spent the last seven years of his life on death row for a crime he did not commit. All of us can only imagine the horror of that, but he has lived it.
“It is not your fault, you had nothing to do with it, and you cannot erase it. But there is something you can do: You can end it. You can give him back his dignity, and his self-respect, and his freedom.
“Ladies and gentlemen, you can go into that jury room, and you can do something absolutely wonderful. You can give Willie Miller his life back.”
