Zak shrugged. “Who knows? Probably subpoenaed. Mark my word-she won’t lay a finger on me.”
Ms. Cummings took her seat in the witness box and Granny began her questioning. “Ms. Cummings, what do you do?”
“I’m the regional director for the Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Our Other-Than-Human Neighbors.”
“And could you briefly tell the jury what that distinguished organization is?”
“It’s an animal rights activist group. We’re committed to using nonviolent means to prevent the mistreatment of animals.”
“Were you with this organization six years ago?”
“Yes. I wasn’t regional director yet, but I was there.”
“And did you ever have an occasion to meet the defendant, George Zakin?”
“I did. He was also with the organization.”
“And what was his role?”
“He was in the Operations section.”
“And what did Operations do?”
“They were in charge of, well, operations.”
“Such as …”
“Raids. We would raid animal testing laboratories, try to free the animals. Sometimes we would hold protest rallies outside a zoo or corporate headquarters. That sort of thing.”
“Do you remember when Mr. Zakin joined the organization?”
“Yes, I remember it very well. I was against bringing him in.”
Granny feigned surprise. “Really? Why?”
“Because he had a criminal record.” Juror eyes widened with interest. Another of Granny’s promises was being delivered on. “He’d been a member of an anti-Klan group in Montgomery and he’d been caught with a bunch of bomb ingredients. Plastique, if I remember correctly. He was charged with possessing illegal materials and conspiracy to use them. He did two years.”
Granny pulled out the official records pertaining to Zak’s conviction and went through the hoops necessary to have them admitted as exhibits so the jury would be able to examine them in the deliberation room. Ben didn’t bother objecting. There was no point. Although mere arrests or accusations were not admissible, a felony conviction was.
“And why did that bother you, Ms. Cummings?”
“Well, I didn’t think we needed a hothead in Operations. As I said, we’re dedicated to the use of nonviolent means to achieve our ends. What did we want with some bomb expert? Even if he didn’t make bombs for us, just having him around made us look bad.”
“I gather you were overruled.”
“I was. And Zak became a member of the organization.”
Granny turned a page in her outline. “How did that work out?”
“At first, well. Much better than I expected, actually. He had a lot of energy-I have to give him credit for that. He got a lot of new programs rolling, and most of them were successful. I think his energy was contagious. He inspired others in the group to work harder, to become even more dedicated.”
“Was there a downside to having Mr. Zakin in your group?”
“Not at first. But after the incident at Chesterson Laboratories, we all wished we’d never heard of George Zakin.”
Ben whispered in Zak’s ear. “Still think she’s your understanding friend?”
Zak did not respond.
Granny continued questioning. “Could you tell the jury what happened at the Chesterson Laboratories, please?”
“Chesterson was one of the worst animal experimenters in the country, both in volume and degree. They went through hundreds of animals a year, most of them primates, and the experiments they performed on those poor animals were abominable. Pure torture. Killing them slowly to test a new mascara, that sort of thing. So we planned a raid. To set free the chimps imprisoned there.”
“I take it the raid was unsuccessful.”
“No, the raid was a huge success. We got in, got out, and the chimps were freed. But something happened we didn’t plan on. One of the researchers was killed during or near the time of the raid. Needless to say, our group was blamed.”
“Was any particular member blamed?”
Ben rose to his feet. “Objection, your honor. May I approach the bench?”
Judge Pickens nodded. Ben walked to the semi-privacy of the judge’s station up front; Granny came scampering behind him.
“Your honor,” Ben explained, “counsel is about to enter testimony relating to charges that were brought against my client after this Chesterson incident.”
“How do you know?” Granny said. “Are you a mind reader?”
“No, but I’m not a fool, either. And I know that if I wait until after the cat is out of the bag, no ruling on earth will make the jury forget what they’ve heard. Judge, my client was charged with this murder, but he was completely exonerated. The jury voted unanimously for acquittal.”
“Only because Kincaid did some fancy footwork during the trial.”
Pickens’s eyebrows lifted. “This Kincaid?”
“The very same,” Granny said. “He’s the genius who got Zakin off the hook-and back on the streets.”
Judge Pickens looked as if he had an unpleasant taste in his mouth. “You must be very proud of yourself, Kincaid.”
“Your honor, we all know that absent a conviction, evidence of prior arrest and charges is not admissible.”
“That’s not exactly true,” Granny interjected. “It’s not admissible to prove the truth of the matter asserted or to prove that he likely committed the present murder.”
“What other reason could you possibly have?”
“We’re using it simply to explain why Zak was booted out of the animal rights organization and to show that they considered him dangerous. This can come in as evidence of prior bad acts, pursuant to Rule 404b. I jumped through all the appropriate pretrial hoops.”
“That’s true,” Pickens agreed.
“That’s ridiculous,” Ben snorted.
“What’s the matter, Kincaid?” Pickens growled. “You think you’re the only one who has any fancy footwork?”
“Your honor, it’s perfectly obvious she just wants the jury to know that he was tried once before for murder. This will be grossly prejudicial.”
“I’m sure it will be prejudicial to your client, Kincaid. But I believe the probative value outweighs the prejudice in this case. I’m going to let it in.”
“Your honor!” Ben exclaimed. “This is absolutely-”
“I’ve ruled, Kincaid.”
Ben’s face tightened. “I move for leave of court to take an immediate interlocutory appeal on this issue.”
“Denied.”
“Your honor, this is simply wrong!”
Pickens brought out his gavel and pointed it so far forward it practically touched Ben’s nose. “I’ve made my ruling, Kincaid. You can live with it or you can leave. Your choice.”
Ben stomped back to defendant’s table, fuming. That ruling was absolutely contrary to law, and he knew it. It could possibly be the basis for a later appeal, but he doubted that remote possibility would be of much comfort to Zak.
Granny repeated her question, and the witness answered, carefully choosing her words. “Many people believed George Zakin should be blamed.”
Ben grimaced. Another unnecessary twist of the knife from Zak’s “understanding friend.”
