“Oh yes, after we checked with our attorneys to make sure we could turn that over.”
“Was there anything prior to the police showing up at the bank which sent up any red flags on that account?”
“No, nothing,” she said, shaking her head for emphasis.
“How many accounts do you normally open on any particular day?”
“Maybe five or six on a busy day.”
“How many accounts did you open on June 14th?”
Smith’s face went blank. “I. . I don’t know.”
“Was it more than one?”
“Probably, but I honestly don’t remember. I’m sorry, that was a long time ago.”
“Do you remember any of the other people who opened an account that day?”
Smith shook her head.
“What about people on the 15th of June?” Beckett asked.
Smith shook her head again.
“What about the 16th of June?”
“No sir. . I’m sorry, I don’t remember any of them.”
“Do you remember anyone who opened an account in June, other than Mr. Beaumont?”
“No sir, I don’t,” she responded politely.
“But you do remember Mr. Beaumont?” Beckett asked. The first hint of skepticism crept into his voice.
Smith blushed. “No, not at the time. . but I do now.” This comment got the jury’s attention. Several members sat up straighter in their chairs.
“What do you mean, ‘not at the time’?” Beckett asked.
“I didn’t remember him the first time the police came to talk to me,” she clarified. “But when they came back, they showed me a picture of Mr. Beaumont.”
“They showed you Mr. Beaumont’s picture?!” Beckett asked incredulously. “Did they show you anyone else’s picture?”
“No, I don’t think so. They told me the Stevens account was fake and they knew who did it. Then they showed me Mr. Beaumont’s picture and asked me if I recognized him as the man who pretended to be Scott Stevens.”
This caused several members of the jury to look at Eddie Pierce. They were frowning. Beckett had scored a hit.
“So you only remembered Mr. Beaumont
“Yes,” Smith replied. No one in the courtroom doubted her honesty.
“When someone opens an account, you get identification from that person, right?”
“Oh yes. We need a pho. .to ID.” As the words left Smith’s mouth, her entire face turned white and her eyes grew. “Oh my,” Smith said to herself, though the microphone carried it throughout the courtroom. “There should have been a photo ID.”
Pierce momentarily looked nervous, but quickly regained his poker face. He glanced at Morales, who shrugged her shoulders and shook her head.
Beckett picked up the packet of documents. “If you could turn to the packet of documents Mr. Pierce handed you a few minutes ago. I believe he marked it as Exhibit 12?” Smith picked up the packet as Beckett flipped through his own set. “Now, I believe these are out of order, so if you could please look about ten pages in.”
Smith flipped through the pages until she came upon a photocopy of a drivers licenses. She squinted at it, taking in all of the details. Then she looked at Beaumont, comparing him to the image on the drivers license. She seemed to deflate.
Beckett placed his copy of the image on the projector. Soon the jury was comparing the digitally altered image of the Hispanic/Asian appearing Alvarez with the bald, black Beaumont.
“This is the drivers license given to you by the man calling himself Scott Stevens, isn’t it?” Beckett asked.
“Yes, sir,” Smith said with some embarrassment. She bit her lip.
“You made this photocopy yourself didn’t you, when you opened the file?”
“Yes sir, I did.”
“Does that look like Mr. Beaumont to you?”
Smith set down her copy. “No sir, it doesn’t. I’m sorry.”
“There’s no reason to be sorry, Ms. Smith. Trials are about finding the truth. Let’s just make sure we get this right. They’re not even the same race, are they?”
“No sir, it doesn’t appear that way. . not at all,” she added.
“Is it possible you were mistaken when you told this jury that Mr. Beaumont was the man who opened the Stevens account?”
“I. . uh, I think I was wrong. I’m very sorry.”
“Then it wasn’t Beaumont that opened the account?”
“No sir, it wasn’t.” She looked at Beaumont and blushed. “I’m sorry,” she repeated.
“Thank you, Ms. Smith.” Beckett returned to his seat.
Judge Sutherlin stopped the proceedings early the first day because he needed to handle three minor matters on his docket. This gave Eddie Pierce extra time to find and browbeat Paul Webb. Webb stood with his back against the bookcase in Pierce’s office. Pierce stood in the middle of the room with his arms folded and a nasty frown on his lips.
“Listen to me, Officer. If you don’t testify, this case will die. That monster will escape. Do you want that on your conscience?”
“No sir, I don’t want any of this on my conscience,” Webb replied.
“Good, we can agree then. You need to testify.”
“I will not get on the stand and lie,” Webb said defiantly.
Pierce moved closer. “Son, I don’t know what your problem is and I don’t care, but you filed a police report, and I expect you to stand by that report. Now can I count on you or can I not count on you?”
Webb didn’t respond.
Pierce glared at him. “I can’t believe what I’m hearing. In my thirty years in this office, I’ve never heard of an officer doing what you are doing now.” Pierce jabbed his finger into Webb’s chest. “You need to talk to your friends, talk to your fellow officers, go pray, whatever, and get over this. You filed a police report and if you don’t stand by that, there will be repercussions. Now get out of my office!”
Webb left without a word.
Pierce called Morales into his office. “I don’t care what you need to do, make sure that guy testifies.”
Meanwhile, Corbin and Beckett sat in Beckett’s office eating Chinese take out. “I’ll bet Eddie Pierce is kicking himself for trying to make an example of Beaumont,” Corbin laughed.
“I wouldn’t be too confident just yet,” Beckett cautioned.
“What do you mean?” Corbin kept his face in the food container, but his eyes watched Beckett closely.
“This case depends on Webb.”
“I can’t see that. You made Russell look like a liar and Smith recanted. Right now the jury’s thinking Pierce set the whole thing up. Not to mention, Sutherlin sounds like he may dismiss the case. All their evidence, what little there is, is tainted by the illegal search.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Beckett said abruptly. “Webb is all that matters. If he doesn’t show up, we win. If he does. . all bets are off.”
Corbin didn’t follow up on Beckett’s comment.
Corbin rubbed the cold, steel gun against his forehead. “We’ve got a problem.”
“What?” Alvarez asked.
“Beckett destroyed their witnesses. The jury is ready to string up Eddie Pierce and personally escort Beaumont to the exit, but Beckett’s obsessed with the idea they’re going to convict. I don’t understand his thinking. He claims the only thing that matters is Webb.” Corbin tapped the gun against his forehead several times. “I think he’s lost his mind. I think he wants to turn himself in.”
