Honor.”
He nods. “Okay, I’ll deny it.”
Judgments of acquittal can be renewed within fourteen days of denial, but that’s not something that fills me with hope either.
He continues. “Then I assume you’ll want to reopen testimony so they can hear about your little Delaware adventure last night?”
“Yes, definitely,” I say.
“I’ll deny that as well. The jury has heard your theory. If they believe it connects to this case, that’s fine. If they don’t, one more incident won’t change things.”
“I strongly object, Your Honor,” I say. “There is more than just Judge Holland’s suicide. Alex Bauer was on the call list as well.”
“That was quite a list,” De Luca says. “The objection is nevertheless overruled. Once these motions are dispensed with, I will give my charge to the jury, and then we’re out of here. Nice and quick. There’s a lot of interest out there in the media, gentlemen, especially after what happened last night. I will not have my trial turned into a media circus.”
I make another attempt, but there is no arguing with De Luca on this. I had very much hoped to get the Judge Holland suicide entered into evidence, and possibly even Bauer. Not only would it have been significant in and of itself, but the unusual step of restarting the trial would have likely had a great effect on the jury.
But that’s not happening, and all we have left is the possibility of using the ruling as the basis of an appeal should Noah be convicted. That’s not exactly a major consolation.
Hike and I meet with Noah for ten minutes before court is convened. As a prisoner in solitary confinement, he’s one of the few people in America that hasn’t heard about Judge Holland. I explain to him what it means in the context of the trial, which isn’t much.
“How long do you think the jury will be out?” he asks.
“I have no idea.”
“And the verdict?”
I’m not about to lie to him now. “I think we’re going to lose,” I say.
He nods. “Me too. I think you’ve done an amazing job, and Becky and I will be grateful to you for as long as we live. But if I were on the jury I would vote to convict.”
“I think we’re going to win,” Hike says.
Hike, who at any given time expects the world to come to an end within an hour, thinks we’re going to win.
“There you go,” I say to Noah. “The incurable optimist has spoken.”
Noah laughs; he has gotten to know Hike quite well. “Why do you say that?” he asks.
Hike shrugs. “I’ve just got faith in human nature.”
I’ve got to get out of here before he breaks out in a rendition of “Put on a Happy Face.”
Once I leave I turn on my cell phone. There’s a message from Laurie asking that I call her, which I do.
“I got the travel records from Gail Lockman for her husband.”
“Anything interesting?”
“He made four trips in the six weeks before the fire. The first one was to Texas, then Georgia, Arkansas, and Texas again.”
“If there’s something revealing in there, I’m missing it.”
“You’ll find it eventually.”
“Eventually isn’t going to be nearly good enough.”
When I get back to the office, Agent Mulcahy is waiting for me.
Which is good, because I was going to call him. We have a lot to talk about.
The fact that he has come to my office gives me a small advantage; usually in a case like this he would try to summon me to the bureau offices, and then intimidate me when I got there. Of course, that small advantage does not quite make up for the fact that he has the entire government of the United States behind him, while I have Hike and Edna.
But for now it’s just him and me talking alone in my office, which is interesting in itself. Usually agents like Mulcahy travel in twos, and play “good cop/bad cop.” In this case Mulcahy is playing “only cop,” and that could mean he wants to trade.
“Nice place you got here,” he says, looking around as if he stepped in shit.
“Thanks; I’ll convey your appreciation to my decorator.”
“You do that,” he says. “So I read the transcript of your interview with our agents in Delaware. From what I gather, you and the judge were just chatting away, about nothing in particular, and he shot himself?”
“That pretty much sums it up,” I say.
“Having heard you talk in court, it does make some sense,” he says. “I took the bullets out of my own gun before coming here, just in case.”
I nod. “Wise move.”
“Other than you annoying him to death, why did he do it?”
“Mmmm, that’s a tough one.”
“Be careful, Carpenter.”
“No, I don’t think so. I’ve got a guy who’s never hurt a soul probably going off to prison for the rest of his life. If I’m going to prevent that, the last thing I need to be is careful.”
“Is that right?” He doesn’t seem cowed, but I’m not in the mood to care.
“That’s exactly right. And you know what else? I think you know he never set that fire, and you’re sitting back and watching it happen.”
“You should have presented a more effective case,” he says.
“Okay, here’s the way we’re going to do it. You’re going to tell me information you have that can help me, and then I’m going to tell you information that I have that will help you. And you’re going to go first.”
“Why would I go first?”
“Because I don’t trust you, and because you’re worried, and because my information is probably better than yours.”
He smiles, as if he thinks that’s amusing as hell, even though he doesn’t. “What would possibly make you think I’m worried?”
“Because you’re sitting here. Your agents already asked me every question there was to ask. If you’re sitting here, it’s because you have a different agenda.”
“Okay,” he says. “Deal.”
“I’m not finished with the terms yet. You’re going to go to the judge with me, on the record or off, and tell him to reopen the trial.”
“You think I can tell De Luca what to do?”
“I think you can try. Now tell me something I don’t know.”
He pauses, as if trying to decide what to say. There’s no doubt that he knew even before he got here what he could and could not say; he’s probably under very specific orders about it. But his open pondering is to give the illusion that he is in charge.
“There has been a lot of chatter these last few months.”
I interrupt. “Chatter?”
“That’s spy talk meaning we hear stuff. A foreign entity has been very interested in the result of the Delaware trial.”
“Which foreign entity?”
“You don’t need to know that,” he says. “Let’s just say that it isn’t Switzerland or Luxembourg. It’s a country that we very much do not want to have WMDs.”
“And is that what this is about? This chatter?”
“It’s very possible,” he says. “Which makes this a little bigger than Noah Galloway.”
I shake my head. “That’s not how the system works. I’m his lawyer; for me there’s nothing bigger than Noah Galloway. How long have you known that this foreign stuff is tied to this case?”
“Not very long; in fact, we’re still not positive that it does. But you’re making a good case; we’re more willing to
