“So according to your own notes, this camera, which could have recorded everything, was still warm when you found it?”
“That’s what it says.”
“That’s what you said, sir. These are your notes from the evening of August 17, 2018, are they not?”
“They are.”
“Thank you. Your witness.”
“Officer Palino,” Astrid says in an exasperated tone. “In your opinion, does this camera have anything to do with this murder?”
“We have found no correlation. No evidence that there was a server or hard drive or anything that it recorded to.”
“Thank you.” Astrid dismisses the witness.
“Is there a redirect?” asks the judge.
“Yes.” Shawn stands. “Officer Palino, in your professional opinion, do you believe a hidden camera in a living room would exist merely for decoration? For some interior design nuance?”
“Objection,” says Astrid.
“I withdraw the question. We have nothing further for this witness.”
Palino leaves the stand.
“The defense would like to recall Detective Bronson Penance,” says Shawn.
Detective Penance enters and takes his place on the stand.
“Detective, you and I had a conversation the day my client was arrested, did we not?”
“I’m sorry.” Detective Penance is confused at the line of questioning, which isn’t what he thought he was there for. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember.”
“Let me refresh your memory. We were in that dreary brick building where you work, and you gave me a brief tip that might steer me in a better direction for my client.”
“I wouldn’t have done that.” He remembers the conversation now.
“Well, you did, and you also said, ‘Contrary to popular belief, we do our job here,’ do you remember that?”
“I do remember that.”
“Do you think you did your job when it comes to this camera and what it may or may not have recorded?” Shawn asks.
“Objection! Detective Penance is not on trial here.” Astrid stands to make her point. “There’s simply no reason for this attack.”
“Your Honor, I’m simply trying to show that the prosecution has not explored all obvious avenues of investigation, and therefore, my client has been unfairly rushed to judgment.”
“I’ll allow a rephrasing of the question,” rules the judge. “Strike the first one from the record, and be careful, Mr. Connelly.”
“Detective Penance, did you or any member of your department ever find the recordings from the wireless camera?”
“We did not. But not for lack—”
“That’s all I needed to know.”
“That’s not all he has to say, Mr. Connelly,” says the judge. “Detective, you may continue.”
“We tried everything we could to find that recording, alleged recording,” Detective Penance begins. “We logged over 250 man hours on this issue alone, issuing search warrants for residents in the Garfield Building, interrogating adjacent neighbors. Because of the location of their condo among many other large residential buildings, there are over seventy Wi-Fi accounts that are accessible to the living room in question; anyone within five hundred or a thousand feet could have had access to that camera, even a passerby on the street.”
“Even a friend who lives close by?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you, Detective,” Shawn says, then looks at Astrid. “Your witness.”
Astrid pauses, shuffling through papers as she thinks. She could bring up the African box that Detective Penance found in James West’s office, she could talk about the company keeping tabs on conspirators in financial cover-ups, she could bring up the possibility of the camera accidentally recording the murder. But would the jury buy the idea of a camera accidentally recording a murder? Too convoluted, too reasonable-doubty, she concludes.
“No questions for Detective Penance, except to say thank you for your tireless service to this community.”
“Defense would like to recall Jenna Ancelet.”
“Again?” asks the judge.
“Final time, I swear.”
Jenna takes her seat and looks directly at Shawn. Her eyes do not blink.
“Ms. Ancelet, did you know that your Wi-Fi is accessible from Micah and Lenny’s condo?”
“No, I did not. I am not surprised, though. It’s a pretty strong signal.”
“Did anyone else have your password?”
“Everyone does. I mean, shit, my password is “password”. You want access to my phone? It’s 1-2-3-4-5-6. That’s my phone’s password. I have nothing to hide.”
“Thank you, Ms. Ancelet. I have nothing further for this witness.”
“Ms. Ancelet, apologies from the court,” says Astrid. “Is it true that you have been cleared of any wrongdoing, and your alibi is unshakable for the entire evening of the victim’s death?”
“Yes, so I’ve been told.”
“Thank you.”
“The witness is dismissed,” says the judge. He smiles. “Thank you for coming again, Ms. Ancelet.”
Jenna forces a grin and begins her exit from the courtroom.
This needs to be over, she thinks on her way out. Disappointed and betrayed, she is careful not to look directly at either of her friends. As the judge calls the next witness, she sees Shawn and Micah out of the corner of her eye, whispering between themselves.
Probably a fake conversation, she thinks. Goddamn hypocrites.
“Please state and spell your name for the record,” says the court clerk.
“Talbot Lexington. That’s T-A-L-B-O-T Lexington, L-E-X-I-N-G-T-O-N.”
“Thank you for coming today, Talbot. Is it okay if I call you Talbot?” Shawn asks his young witness. Softer and gentler, Shawn’s tone is noticeably different than the one he’d taken with the other witnesses.
Talbot is dressed in baggy jeans and a hoodie, with a crisp, white, button-up shirt underneath. With blondish-brown hair flattened by a cap he is no longer wearing, he sits with his back curved in a slight hunch, as if waiting to be punched from above.
“Sure thing,” Talbot answers.
“Talbot, first of all, I’m sorry about your friend. He got hurt pretty bad, huh?”
“Yeah.” A nervous, inappropriate laugh accompanies his response.
“You and your friend Frank were sponsees of Lennox Holcomb in Narcotics Anonymous, is that correct?”
“I’m not supposed to say.” Talbot cowers under the fear of exposing his anonymity.
“It’s okay, we can speak in a general sense.” Shawn has dealt with people in recovery before. “You and Frank were in recovery together, and Lennox was helping you through it, is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“And how long have you been off drugs?”
“Two days ago, I celebrated sixty days.”
“Whoa! That’s amazing. Sixty-two days clean. Congratulations.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” He moves closer to his witness. “Talbot, for the purposes of today,
