CHAPTER Ninety-Six
'Call Detective Alex Cross.'
I took a deep breath, composed my mind, body, soul, then walked up the wide center aisle of the courtroom to testify. Everyone in the room was watching me, but the only person I really saw was Geoffrey Shafer. The Weasel. He was still playing the part of the wronged innocent man and I wanted to bring him down. I wanted to cross- examine him myself, to ask the real questions that needed to be asked, to tell the jury about all the suppressed evidence, to bring justice crashing down on him with all its force.
It was a hard thing to have worked honestly for so many years - and now be accused of being a rogue cop, someone who had tampered with evidence, and maybe worse. It was ironic, but now maybe I had the opportunity to set the record straight; to clear my name.
Jules Halpern smiled cordially at me as I sat down in the witness stand. He established eye contact, quickly looked over at the jury, then back at me. His dark eyes radiated intelligence and it seemed an incredible waste that he was working for Shafer.
'I want to start by saying that it is an honor to meet you, Detective Cross. For years I, like most of the jurors I'm sure, have read in the Washington papers about the murder cases you have helped solve. We admire your past record.'
I nodded and even managed a grudging smile of my own. 'Thank you. I hope you'll admire my present and future record as well,' I said.
'Let's hope so, Detective.' Halpern said. He moved on. We parried for half an hour or so, before he asked, 'You suffered a terrible personal tragedy a short time before the arrest of Colonel Shafer. Could you tell us about it?'
I fought the urge to reach out and grab the polite-sounding, insidious little man by the neck. I leaned closer to the mike, struggled for control.
'Someone dear to me was kidnapped while we were in Bermuda on vacation. She's still missing. I haven't given up hope that she'll be found. I pray every day that she's still alive.'
Halpern clucked sympathetically. He was good, much like his client. 'I really am sorry. Did the department give you adequate time off?'
'They were understanding and helpful,' I said, feeling my jaw stiffen with resentment. I hated that Halpern was using what happened to Christine to unsettle me.
'Detective, were you officially back on active duty at the time of Detective Hampton's murder?'
'Yes, I went back on full-time duty about a week before the murder.'
'Was it requested that you stay off active duty for a while longer?'
'It was left up to me. The chief of detectives did question my ability to resume my duties. But he made it my choice.'
Halpern nodded thoughtfully. 'He felt your head might be elsewhere? Who could blame you if it was?'
'I was upset, I still am, but I've been able to work. It's been good for me. The right thing to do.'
There were several questions about my state of mind, then Halpern asked, 'When you found out that Detective Hampton had been murdered, how upset were you?'
'I did my job. It was a bad homicide scene.' Your client is a butcher. Do you really want to get him off? Do you realize what you're doing?
'Your fingerprints were on Detective Hampton's belt and on the dashboard of her car. Her blood was on your clothes.'
I paused for several seconds before I spoke again. Then I tried to explain. 'There was a huge jagged tear in Detective Hampton's jugular vein. Blood was everywhere in the car, and even on the cement floor of the garage. I tried to help Detective Hampton - until I was certain she was dead. That's why there were fingerprints in the car and Detective Hampton's blood on my clothes.'
'You tracked blood upstairs?'
'No, I did not. I checked my shoes carefully before I left the garage. I checked twice. I checked because I didn't want to track any blood up into the building.'
'But you were upset, you admit that much. A police officer had been murdered. You forgot to put on gloves when you first searched the scene. There was blood on your clothes. How can you possibly be so sure?'
I stared directly into his eyes and tried to be as calm as he was. 'I know exactly what happened that night. I know who killed Patsy Hampton in cold blood.'
He raised his voice suddenly, 'No, you do not, sir. That's the point. You do not. In frisking Colonel Geoffrey Shafer, isn't it fair to say that you were in physical contact with him?'
'Yes.'
'And isn't it possible that blood from your clothes got onto his? Isn't it even likely?'
I wouldn't give him an inch. I couldn't. 'No, it isn't possible. There was blood on Geoffrey Shafer's trousers before I arrived.'
Halpern moved away from me. He wanted me to sweat. He walked over to the jury box, occasionally looking back at me. He asked several more questions about the crime scene, and then--
'But Dr. Cassady didn't see any blood. The two other officers didn't see any blood - not until after you came into contact with Colonel Shafer. Colonel Shafer was on the phone until three to five minutes before he met his therapist. He came straight there from his children's birthday party. You have no evidence, Detective Cross! Except what you brought into Dr. Cassady's apartment yourself. You have absolutely no evidence, Detective! You arrested the wrong man! You framed an innocent man!'
Jules Halpern threw up his hands in disgust. 'I have no further questions.'
