Hoffman smiled at her and then said, “I’ve got a meeting. See you inside.”
Chapter 91
PHIL HOFFMAN got to his well-shod feet, straightened his shoulders, and said, “The defense calls Caitlin Martin.”
At that, Candace Martin leapt up and screamed in his face, “No! Don’t you dare put my daughter on the stand! You have no right!”
LaVan slammed down his gavel and shouted, “Bailiff, please remove the defendant from the courtroom.”
“Candace. Sit down,” Hoffman said. “Your Honor, give me a word with my client, please.”
“Mr. Hoffman, I’m fining you eight hundred dollars. If you’d prepared your client, this could have been avoided.
After Candace Martin had been escorted from the room, the judge called for order, and when the room had quieted into an expectant hush, he asked the jury to ignore the interruption.
He reminded the jurors that they were charged with weighing the evidence, not the commotion, and that they were to draw no conclusions based on his decision to remove the defendant.
Then he said, “Mr. Hoffman, present your witness.”
Hoffman’s expression was neutral as the eleven-year-old daughter of Candace and Dennis Martin stood by the stand, was sworn in by the clerk, and took the chair inside the witness box. She had to struggle to get into it, and her feet didn’t quite touch the floor.
The judge turned toward the dark-haired girl in the flowered dress and blue cardigan, holding a matching handbag on her lap. He asked, “Ms. Martin, do you know the difference between a lie and the truth?”
“Yes, sir.”
“If I said that I’m the president of the United States, would that be a lie or the truth?”
“It would be a lie, of course.”
“Do you believe in God?”
Caitlin nodded.
“You have to say either yes or no. The clerk is typing what you say.”
“Yes. I do. Believe in God.”
“Okay. You understand that you have promised on God’s word to tell the truth?”
“Yes, sir, I understand.”
“Good. Thank you. Mr. Hoffman, please proceed.”
“Thank you, Your Honor. Caitlin — okay if I call you Caitlin?”
“Sure, Mr. Hoffman.”
Hoffman smiled. He had a nice smile. Nothing bad about it.
“Caitlin, I have to ask you some questions about the night your father was killed, okay?”
“Okay. Yes.”
“Were you in the house when your father was shot?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know who shot him?”
“Yes.”
“Please tell the judge and the jury what you know.”
“I did it,” Caitlin Martin said. Her eyes darted to the judge and then back to her mother’s attorney. “I killed my father. I had no choice.”
Chapter 92
THE GALLERY EXPLODED in an uproar.
Jurors leaned forward, making remarks to one another, while reporters reached for their PDAs. Hoffman stood in the center of the well, his expression frozen, as if he’d just fired a gun himself.
Yuki wanted to rewind the last ten seconds and turn up the volume. Had Caitlin Martin just said that she killed her father?
It just couldn’t be true.
Yuki shot to her feet, clutched her hands into fists, and kept her jaws so tightly clenched, they might as well have been wired shut. She’d been warned not to object, but she was screaming in her mind, I
“Counsel, approach. Both of you,” LaVan snapped.
As the two attorneys came toward him, the judge swiveled his chair ninety degrees so that he would face the emergency exit rather than the witness and the jury.
Yuki and Hoffman stood at an angle to the bench and looked up at the judge.
LaVan said to Hoffman in a low voice that was thrumming with anger. “I take it that neither your client nor the prosecution knew that you were calling this child to the stand.”
“I got a call from the young lady’s maternal grandmother last night saying that Caitlin wanted to talk to me this morning. I met with Caitlin in the lobby of this building, Your Honor, right after our meeting with you. I knew nothing about her testimony until fifteen minutes ago.”
“Your Honor,” Yuki said, “this is an obvious ploy by the defense. Caitlin has either been coached, or she came up with this idea on her own. Either way, she is trying to save her mother’s butt. And either way, she has created reasonable doubt in the minds of the jury.”
LaVan said, “I’m calling a recess. I want to see Caitlin in chambers. Don’t either of you disappear. After I’ve talked to the child, I’ll speak to the jurors.
“And after that, we can discuss the future of this trial.”
Chapter 93
YUKI WAS in Len Parisi’s office when her phone buzzed.
“Here we go,” she said to her boss. She read the text out loud: “‘Judge LaVan is ready for you in chambers.’ What’s your bottom-line advice, Len?”
Parisi hauled his bulk out of his chair, then opened the blinds on the Bryant Street side of the building. The light was translucent. Yuki couldn’t see anything through the fog.
“You want to cross-examine the witness,” Red Dog said. “It’s the best and only thing you can do.”
“What if she’s telling the truth?”
“
“I think she’s throwing herself under the bus. She’s eleven. It’s heroic, like in the movies. But it’s a lie. I can shake her on the stand, but I don’t know if I can do that and keep the jury on our side.”
“It will be like walking a tightrope with diarrhea. But I have faith that you can do it.”
Yuki walked out of Parisi’s office and down the hall on autopilot. Phil Hoffman stood when she entered the judge’s chambers, and after she took the seat she’d occupied only a couple of hours ago, he sat down.
LaVan had removed his robes and his tie and rolled up his shirtsleeves and was standing behind his desk. Yuki thought he was going to pace, but instead he reached down, picked up the metal trash can at his feet, two
