Turning Angel

the girl’s rectum, he’s likely to ask for an indictment.“

”That’s usually three weeks, minimum, although Shad hinted to me that it might not take that long. If he really wants Drew bad-and we know he does-he could use a private lab to do the analysis. That could knock ten days off the wait, maybe more. The irony is that Shad will be helping us if he rushes to trial.“

”Only as it relates to that single issue,“ Quentin points out. ”Connecting the Lorcet to Ellen Elliott. Maybe you shouldn’t talk to Cyrus’s crew after all. We don’t want to jog anybody’s memory too hard.“

”We’re at the beginning of a court term now,“ I think aloud. ”Even if Shad gets an indictment, the trial will be scheduled for the next term, which gives us two months to prepare.“

”I wouldn’t count on that,“ Quentin says.

”Why not?“

”Shad’s thinking about the special mayoral election, not the trial. That’s the whole point of the trial. If he gets the indictment, he’ll try to have the trial scheduled for the current term.“

”Judge Minor and Shad are thick as thieves. All Shad will have to do is steer the case to Minor’s court, and Minor will schedule the trial for this term.“

”We’re likely to be trying the case in less than a month,“ Quentin says.

”That’s unethical!“

Quentin laughs heartily. ”Try convincing the Supreme Court of that. The founding fathers specifically guaranteed the right of the accused to a speedy trial. If we protest against Shad rushing this trial, he can argue that he’s only trying to provide what the Constitution demands, the right of an innocent man to prove his innocence as soon as possible. Hell, that was the way it worked all the time in the old days. In some rural counties, they still indict the accused and try him within a week. The system has gotten so ass backwards over the past three decades that we routinely expect capital cases to take years. But that’s not how it’s supposed to be. If Judge Minor is on Shad’s side, there’s no way we’ll slow this trial down.“

”Great.“

Quentin nods thoughtfully. ”It is great. Because we want the trial over before anyone can figure out just what a sleazy character our defendant really is. And we want Cyrus White to stay lost.“

Quentin’s description of Drew offends me, but I hold my tongue.

”Out with it,“ says the lawyer. ”Am I pissing you off?“

”A little bit.“

A tight smile. ”I understand human frailty, Penn, believe me. I’m only talking the way the jury will behind closed doors. I don’t care if your buddy was Albert Schweitzer right up until he met Kate Townsend. His behavior since then is going to make him scum in the eyes of most potential jury members. Now, a lot of jurors will understand the psychological dynamics of extramarital affairs. And some of them will even forgive that. But this drug angle…they’ll fry his ass for that.“

”The sheriff’s men will be questioning Cyrus’s crew about Kate’s visits to Cyrus. I hope to hell Kate never said anything about Ellen to Cyrus or his men.“

”Yeah, it would be a lot better if you hadn’t told Byrd about that video.“

”I didn’t tell him there was video.“

”You told him there was documented evidence. That’s video or still photos.“

I squeeze my hands into fists, wishing I could change the past.

”Stop beating yourself up,“ says Quentin. ”Cyrus’s homeys won’t say shit to those cracker cops. The cops may find out Kate was going there to buy drugs, but they’ll assume she was getting them for herself. At first, anyway.“

”But the toxicology on her body will be clean.“

”Are you sure? Have you seen the report yourself?“

”No. But Sonny Cross said it was clean.“

Quentin chides me with a smile. ”We’ll request that in discovery. If we’re lucky, our prom queen popped a few Lorcet herself to ease the pain of waiting for her lover to get divorced.“

”I’m glad I never came up against you in court, Quentin. You’re a pragmatic son of a bitch.“

His eyes twinkle. ”That I am, my boy. You are, too. You just have this romantic haze over your eyes. You want the world to be better than it is. But I know your record. You’re as hard as I am when it comes down to it. You just get there by a different route.“

”I’m not sure about that.“

Quentin snorts. ”As many people as you got executed, I hope you’re sure.“

Images of desperate men fill my mind, some of them glaring at me from death row cages, others staring through bulletproof glass as a technician injects paralyzing drugs into their veins. In some of those eyes I see a plea for forgiveness, in others unalloyed hatred. But one thing is common to them all: the animal fear of death.

”Stop it,“ Quentin says. ”Let the dead bury the dead.“

”Sometimes I can’t stop it.“

The old lawyer looks out over the rooftops toward the river and speaks in a low voice. ”Fifteen years ago, I was asked to review the case of a young man sitting on death row in Huntsville, Texas. He was black, and his family told me he’d been railroaded by the state. The facts sounded promising as presented, so I flew down to Texas and reviewed the file.“ Quentin glances at me. ”You were the lawyer who convicted him.“

A chill goes through me. ”What was his name?“

”Doesn’t matter.“ Quentin looks back at the river. ”The point is, I spent three days and nights going over that case. I had two associates helping me. And we couldn’t find one chink in the wall of evidence that had convicted that boy. There wasn’t a glimmer of hope. I gave the family back their files and flew home.“ He spits over the brick wall of the balcony, then turns to me. ”I don’t believe in the death penalty, Penn, not in this mortal world. It’s applied unfairly, and innocent men are executed. But I will say this: according to the law of the land, that boy in Huntsville got exactly what he deserved. And you have nothing to be ashamed of. I’ve reviewed a lot of death penalty cases, and that was the best work I’ve ever seen.“

”Why are you telling me this?“

”Because that’s the reason the two of us are standing here now, working together. We’re about to go through some shit, you and I. And I want you to know I know you’ve got what it takes to do it. Now, if you want to do your friend any good, you’re going to have to start looking at the facts as coldly as you would if you were dealing with some dead-eyed killer in Texas.“

”It’s hard for me to look at Drew like that.“

”That’s because he’s white.“

I feel my back stiffen. ”That’s not true. I sent five white men to death row. I killed a white supremacist myself.“

Quentin shakes his head like a patient tutor. ”I said he’s white, not white trash. When you look at Drew Elliott, you see yourself. When you look at Kate Townsend, you see your sister, or your daughter, or your mother. How do you think I got so many black men off of death row? When I looked at them, I saw myself. Or what could have been me, with just a tiny push at the wrong time.“

”I see what you mean. So, you’re telling me not to try to find Cyrus?“

”Damned straight. As long as Cyrus White stays a mystery, he’s our acquittal on the hoof. The last thing we want is that depraved hoodlum on the witness stand telling a jury how Kate was scoring dope for Drew’s wife. You get me?“

”Yes. Only…“

”What?“

”I tried a lot of murder cases, Quentin. If you don’t really know what happened at a crime scene, you can get your ass handed to you in court.“

”Stop thinking like a prosecutor. We’re the defense, boy! We don’tcare what really happened at the crime scene. We don’t even want to know. All we care about is reasonable doubt. That’s your mantra from now on. I want you saying it in your sleep: reasonable doubt. Say it, man! It’s like, ’Show me the money!‘ “ Quentin grins. ”Come on… reasonable doubt.“

I’d like to humor him, but at bottom I just don’t believe in his strategy.

He puts his hand on my shoulder and squeezes. ”It’s human nature to want to know the truth, Penn. But what