David Ellis - Jury of One

Todavia sat back in the seat and folded his arms. “Now you sayin’ I had somethin’ to do with this here beef. I ain’t talkin’.” He directed an emphatic finger downward. “I got my rights.”

Perfect.

The judge turned to the witness. “Sir, you do, in fact, have a Fifth Amendment right to refuse to answer this question. Is that your intention?”

“Nobody said nothin’ ’bout this thing here.” He continued to point downward. He could have punched holes in a can with that finger.

“Sir. Are you choosing to remain silent?”

“That’s right. I’m remainin’ silent.”

“Okay,” Shelly said. This was a freebie for her, if she handled it right. That was a big if. She hadn’t really expected to be here. She hadn’t known precisely what Todavia was going to say, and she had done her best to twist his words. Now she had him in a vulnerable spot. She could run off a series of incriminating questions that he would refuse to answer-and look bad for doing so. Didn’t you plan the murder of Raymond Miroballi? Isn’t that gun sitting there on the table yours? He would probably refuse to answer, which would be the next best thing to admitting them. But this kid was unpredictable. He might shout out a denial, too.

She liked her odds on that score, but there was a very real danger of being too cute here. She was planning a self-defense argument. If she proceeded down the present course-suggesting that Todavia had something to do with this murder-she would be telling the jury the defense was pleading a straight not-guilty, that Alex didn’t do it. And then later, she would tell them that Alex did do it but had legal justification. The jury would lose their trust in Shelly. They would think the defense was saying anything and everything. Morphew would crucify her in closing arguments. No. She had to make the call right now, go forward here and abandon self-defense, or shut the hell up. She would have loved a continuance, but Morphew would grab Todavia and talk some sense into him. She had to make this decision now.

Oh, she had his jugular exposed and she was going to let him go. But it made sense. Sure. Morphew was going to have the chance to clean this up, anyway. No matter what kind of misdirection she tried here, Morphew would set the record straight with a more confident Eddie Todavia this afternoon.

So if she wasn’t going to make the jury think Eddie Todavia was a killer, she could at least make them think he was a liar.

“Mr. Todavia, tell me if you agree with this statement. If my client said that he was being forced by a cop to help him go after the Cannibals, and if you were the only Cannibal he knew, wouldn’t that give you a motive to want to eliminate that cop? Or Alex?”

“Object to the form.”

“Sustained.”

She didn’t agree with that ruling but she didn’t really care. She just wanted Todavia and the jury to hear the question. She was approaching the witness again. “And Alex, quite obviously, is still with us, isn’t he? Whereas a certain police officer is dead.”

The witness had curled into a ball. “Man, I ain’t sayin’ nothin’.”

“If Alex really said all those things to you about a cop being on his tail and wanting to take down drug-dealing Cannibals like you, then I don’t blame you for taking the Fifth.”

“Objection.”

“Sustained. That question is stricken. The question is improper.”

She nodded her head, acknowledging the court’s admonition, but she wasn’t looking at the judge. She had reached the witness stand. She placed a hand on the railing. “Is it worth it, Eddie? Get out of a drug-dealing beef and fall into a murder beef?”

“Man, I want my lawyer.”

“The truth is, Eddie, that Alex never said any of those things to you. Right? You lied to stay out of jail, isn’t that the truth?”

“I want my lawyer.”

That was fine. That was better than a denial.

“He never said any of those things to you, because if he had, you wouldn’t have stood for it. You would have killed either Alex or the cop.”

“Object to the form.”

“Sustained.”

She gave a long look at the witness, then at the jury, who seemed quite attentive.

“That’s all I have,” she said.

Morphew did what she expected. He asked for a lunch recess as the hour drew near twelve. With that time, he was going to explain to Todavia, or have his lawyer do so, that there was nothing illegal about a failure to report a crime. He might even give him immunity for the Miroballi shooting, but that would be a bad move for him; immunity acknowledged guilt, some participation. In any event, he would clean this up. He would get Todavia on the straight path on redirect and have him clearly state that Alex alluded to killing a police officer.

“You’re a good lawyer,” Alex said to her as he took a bite of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich Shelly had made this morning. They were in a holding cell below the courthouse. It was dark and depressing and had the faint smell of urine.

She had done all she could with Todavia. Her tricks would not work the second time around, after he was redirected by Morphew.

“You tied him up real good,” he added. “Made him look bad. For a minute there, I thought you were gonna get us all killed. That guy’s C-Street, Shelly. You don’t mess with a guy like that.”

She shrugged. “He said you two were ‘all good,’ Alex.”

“That was before you made him look ridiculous.”

“I hope so. I think the jury believes he’s capable of lying. The question is whether he was lying.”

“He was.”

“Well, I’m saying-it’s all what the jury thinks.” She put down her sandwich. “That was a very damaging piece of evidence, Alex. Not just the part about getting rid of the cop, but the whole conversation.”

It was damaging to her, at least. If this story were made up, that meant that the prosecution had a hand in it. Dan Morphew had fed lines to a witness in a pinch. She was not ready to make that assumption about Morphew. She’d seen that kind of prosecutor, but she didn’t think Morphew was capable. Add to that the fact that Shelly’s father was the county attorney’s political ally, and it didn’t wash. The jury knew none of this, of course. They had to be viewing Todavia’s testimony with some skepticism. But Shelly had to concede that, in the end, she thought Todavia was telling the truth.

“You talk to Ronnie lately?” he asked.

She shook her head no. “Not for a few days. You?”

“No.” He wiped his mouth. “I think he’s trying to be careful about not talking to me, since he’s a witness and all. But you’re not gonna call him, right?”

“Doubt it. Don’t see why I would.”

Ronnie had offered his testimony, in whatever form she wanted, on so many occasions she had lost count. He would willingly lie for Alex. Whatever corroboration Shelly needed, he would provide.

“You told him, didn’t you?” he asked.

She had told him. She had confronted Ronnie in that conference room right after her conversation on the cell phone with Joel Lightner, who had reported a strange visit by Ronnie to a man named Robert Eldridge. That kid is acting weird, Joel had said to her. He’s up to something.

Why, she wondered, had she chosen that moment to confront him with the fact that she knew he was her son? She wanted to tell herself that the timing was right, or she had an irresistible urge. A mother’s urge.

Nonsense. The evidence had been building up against the boy. He was seen consorting with Todavia. He was at the scene of the murder. Alex’s defensive overreaction every time she broached the subject of Ronnie only confirmed her suspicions. She knew why she had chosen that moment for the heart-to-heart.