Trial Junkies

minutes later. Just as Abernathy was about to call his next witness, Detective Meyer entered the courtroom, moved quickly up the aisle and gestured to him.

'Your Honor,' Abernathy said, 'may I have a moment?'

'A moment. And make it a quick one.'

Hutch watched as Abernathy moved over to the low rail that separated the gallery from the well of the courtroom. Meyer leaned close and whispered in Abernathy's ear, the ADA's eyes widening slightly, a small smile crossing his lips. Whatever the news was, it couldn't be good for Ronnie.

Abernathy nodded, said something to Meyer, then turned toward the bench. 'Your Honor, I'd like to request a sidebar.'

O'Donnell raised a brow, then said to Waverly. 'Any objection, counsel?'

Waverly hadn't seen Abernathy's face and still seemed to be riding the high of Nadine's reversal. She got to her feet. 'None whatsoever, Your Honor.'

She and Abernathy moved to the bench as O'Donnell cupped his hand over his microphone and leaned toward them, the three speaking quietly. Waverly and Abernathy had their backs to the gallery and their faces couldn't be seen, but it was easy to see that Abernathy was doing most of the talking.

Waverly grew rigid beside him, then it was her turn to talk. They went back and forth for several minutes, O'Donnell cutting in occasionally, then the two attorneys returned to their tables-

— and Waverly's expression said it all.

Something very, very bad had just happened.

As Waverly sat, she leaned toward Ronnie and began whispering in her ear. If Ronnie had looked defeated before, she now seemed absolutely devastated, her body sinking deeper into her chair with each word.

The two spoke quietly-and urgently-for several moments as Abernathy threw papers into a briefcase and Judge O'Donnell conferred with his clerk.

Hutch couldn't imagine what had happened, and he was dying to know. He looked over at Andy, Matt and Gus and they were clearly feeling the same.

'What the fuck…?' Andy whispered.

But before anyone else could chime in, Judge O'Donnell finished with his clerk and said to the jury, 'Ladies and gentlemen, I'm going to call a recess as we take this matter into chambers. Please report to the jury room and make sure not to discuss the case with one another.'

The jurors all murmured agreement, then got to their feet and filed out of the courtroom, several of them glancing at Ronnie. Then O'Donnell stood up and the bailiff called out, 'All rise!'

Waverly rubbed a comforting hand across Ronnie's back as they stood, Ronnie now looking bloodless. Lost. Devastated.

Waverly whispered again into her ear, gave her arm a reassuring squeeze, then joined Abernathy and the judge at a doorway behind the bench.

As they disappeared from view and the spectators began to disperse, Ronnie made a sound and sank into her chair, lowering her head to the table.

People in the gallery turned to stare at her as Hutch moved into the aisle and through the gate, pulling a chair up next to her, putting an arm around her, leaning in close. 'What is it? What happened?'

Her voice was barely a croak. 'I'm not getting out of this. Not now. There's no way they'll ever acquit me.'

'Why? What happened? What's Abernathy up to?'

She looked at him, her face streaked with tears. 'You warned me this might happen, Hutch. On the train last night.'

'What are you talking about?'

'They think they've found the murder weapon.'

Something went cold inside. 'You mean the knife?'

'Not a knife,' she said, shaking her head morosely. 'A pair of grooming shears.'

— 53 -

'Grooming shears?' Hutch said. 'What the hell are you talking about? Didn't the autopsy report say Jenny was killed with a knife? She had her throat slit.'

'I think so, but now they're saying it could have been the scissors.'

Hutch was thrown for a loop. 'I'm no forensics expert, but wouldn't they be able to figure that out when they examined her?'

'I don't know. Maybe they can't when the scissors are broken. One of the blades was snapped off at the handle. So it might as well have been a knife.'

'You've gotta be kidding me.'

'I wish I were.'

'Where did they find this thing?'

'In the bushes about a block from the crime scene. Some guy was walking his dog last night and the dog started sniffing and scratching and there it was, covered with dried blood.'

'Four months later? That's complete bullshit. The cops would've searched there already.'

'I know, I know, but…' She trailed off, gesturing helplessly.

'What else did Waverly say?'

'That it looks like it matches the wounds, but they won't be sure it's the murder weapon until they run some more tests. She says she'll try to get the judge to exclude it, but she didn't sound hopeful. And if that blood matches Jenny's…' She paused, rose from her chair. 'I think I'm gonna be sick.'

Hutch stood up with her. 'Easy now. Easy.' He stroked her hair. 'First off, even if they get a match, that doesn't mean they can tie the scissors to you.'

She looked away suddenly, said nothing, and Hutch didn't miss the implication.

'Are you telling me they can?'

The tears began to well again. 'They're my scissors, Hutch. At least I think they are. I broke a pair and threw them away a couple days before Jenny was killed.'

'Jesus Christ…' he said.

She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. 'It was Langer, wasn't it? He planted them in those bushes.'

Hutch nodded. Who else could it be? This had to be part of his sick little game. He had broken into Ronnie's house or had taken the scissors from her trash and used them to set her up.

But why wasn't he in court this morning to witness his handiwork? Whatever went on in that twisted mind of his, you'd think he'd want to be here to enjoy the show.

Hutch still wasn't convinced that Langer had recognized him last night, but what did it matter at this point? The guy had to be stopped. It was time to quit playing amateur detective and take this to the people who could actually do something about it. Make them see what he and the others saw.

He turned to Andy, Matt and Gus, who were now standing at the rail, eyeing them anxiously. He said to Matt, 'Do you have that stuff on Langer with you?'

Matt patted his satchel. 'Right here.'

'Give it to me.'

He frowned. 'What are you gonna do?'

'Just give it to me.'

Matt dug around in the satchel as he stepped past the gate and approached them, then handed the file folder to Hutch. 'You're going to the cops, aren't you?'

'No,' Hutch said. 'I'm taking this straight to the top.'

'What?'

Hutch glanced toward the back of the gallery and saw that the bailiff was holding a door open for the departing spectators, one of whom was Nathaniel Keating. Keating gave him that smile again and for a brief