Scott Pratt - An Innocent Client

“Did your client say something, Mr. Dillard?”

“I think so.” I looked at Angel. “What did you say?”

“I don’t want to do this. I changed my mind.”

Baker stood. “But we had a deal-”

“Be quiet,” Judge Green said. “Mr. Dillard, what’s going on?”

“I’d be happy to explain it if I knew,” I said. “When I spoke to Ms. Christian on Friday afternoon, she seemed pleased. She’s apparently changed her mind.”

“You’re wasting my time,” the judge said. “I don’t like it when people waste my time.”

“This is a complete surprise,” I said. “If you’ll give me a few minutes to talk to her, maybe we can straighten this out.”

“Don’t bother,” Judge Green said.

“Your honor,” Baker said, “Mr. Dillard and I reached a compromise agreement that brings what I believe to be a fair and satisfactory end to this very difficult case.”

“It sounds like Mr. Dillard’s client has other ideas.”

“But she signed the forms,” Deacon said. “She- ”

“It’s not a contract, Mr. Baker. She can change her mind if she wants to. Her plea has to be willing and voluntary, and she obviously is no longer willing. I might have rejected it anyway, but it appears she’s saved me the trouble. Looks like we’re going to trial after all, gentlemen. Court’s in recess.”

Green was almost jaunty as he stepped off the bench. He had to know that Deacon wouldn’t have made such a lousy deal if his case was strong, and if Deacon’s case wasn’t strong, that meant he might lose just before the election. If he lost the case, he’d probably lose the election, and Judge Green would be rid of him.

I went back to the jury room and asked the bailiff to give Angel and me some privacy. She sat down at the table and wouldn’t look at me.

“What’s going on?” I said. “I thought you were happy with this.”

“I changed my mind,” she said.

“Have you talked to Erlene?” She didn’t answer. “I’ll take that as a yes. So Erlene told you not to take this plea?”

“She thinks you’re going to win.”

“I appreciate the confidence, but you’re taking a big risk.”

“You will win, won’t you? I’m innocent. Promise me you’ll win.”

I didn’t say anything. I wished I could promise, but I’d been through enough trials to know that I could never predict the outcome.

“We go to trial two weeks from today,” I said. “I’ll be ready. I’ll come to the jail and we’ll go over everything again. Are you sure about this?”

“Not really,” she said.

I had to admire her courage, even though I thought it might be a bit on the reckless side. But what was more important was that I’d heard the magic words again: “I’m innocent.” Once again, I believed her.

July 14

11:45 a.m.

Landers quickly found out what Frankie Martin had meant when he said he and Deacon would need Landers’s help if Dillard didn’t accept the “offer he can’t refuse.” Less than an hour after the plea bargain fell apart, Deacon had called Landers and asked him to come down to the D.A.’s office. When Landers walked into Deacon’s office and sat down, they told him they’d decided to go to Plan B, which was to try to get Dillard’s sister to help them by snitching on Angel.

“I thought of that a month ago,” Landers said. “I already took a run at her. She turned me down, but I was planning to go back. Her attitude might be different now that Judge Glass threw the book at her.”

“Great minds think alike,” Baker said. He’d thought of approaching Dillard’s sister as soon as he heard about the six-year sentence. “Have they shipped her off to the penitentiary yet?”

“Nah. It’s so crowded they don’t have a bed for her yet. She’s on a waiting list. The jail administrator told me she’d probably be around another month or so.”

“I don’t like using jailhouse snitches, but in this case, it looks like we don’t have much choice,” Baker said. “All the polls my people have taken say the election is going to be close. I can’t afford to lose this trial.”

“What if she won’t go for it?”

“She’ll go for it. We’ll offer to let her out as soon as the trial’s over.”

“What about Judge Green? He’ll never agree.”

“I’ll go around him. I’ll get Judge Glass to sign the agreement. He’s the one who put her in jail, he hates Dillard, and he despises Judge Green. He’d love the idea of Dillard’s sister getting on the stand and frying one of Dillard’s clients. He’ll probably come to court and watch.”

Landers smiled. “Not bad,” he said.

“I didn’t get elected to this position by being stupid.”

Landers thought of a couple of sarcastic responses to the comment, but chose to keep his mouth shut. He rose to leave.

“Wait just a second, Phil,” Baker said. “There’s one more thing we need to discuss.”

Baker didn’t come right out and say it, but over the next few minutes, he made it clear to Landers that he didn’t care whether Dillard’s sister told the truth in court or not. He said he needed “direct testimony that Angel Christian confessed to Sarah Dillard that Angel killed John Paul Tester.” Landers was authorized to offer Sarah a get-out-of-jail free card in return for her “truthful” testimony.

The more Landers thought about the idea of Dillard’s sister as the star witness against Dillard’s client, the more he liked it. He couldn’t wait to see the look on Dillard’s face when his sister stepped up on the witness stand and helped the state convict Angel Christian of murder. And Dillard would have to go after her hard on cross-examination. What a show that would be.

Since Baker gave Landers the impression he wasn’t going to be too particular about the truth, Landers figured he’d make the process a little easier. Before they brought Dillard’s sister into the interview room at the jail, he sat down and wrote out a statement, wording it the way Landers thought would help the most. If Sarah Dillard signed the statement, Landers would leave her a copy and she could use her time in the cell to memorize it. Then, when she took the witness stand at the trial, all she’d have to do was repeat what she’d memorized. It would be perfect.

Landers looked up and smiled when the guard brought Sarah in. She nodded in return, a good sign. She looked pretty hot.

“I thought it might be you,” she said.

“I hear you’re about to be shipped off to the pen. Bet you’re looking forward to that.”

“About as much as I’m looking forward to my next mammogram.”

“I heard what your brother did to you. It’s a shame, a pity. I don’t see how anybody could send their own flesh and blood to a place like the women’s prison in Nashville. Doesn’t he know how bad it is down there?”

“He doesn’t seem to care.”

“And how does that make you feel?”

“Angry.”

“Angry enough to help us?”

“What’s in it for me?”

“In exchange for your testimony, your sentence will be reduced to time served, plus you get to make your brother look bad.”

She sat back and thought about it, but it didn’t take her long. She took a deep breath and looked Landers in the eye.

“Tell me what you want me to do,” she said.

Landers slid the statement across the table, and she started to read.

July 16

9:20 a.m.

Maynard Bush’s arraignment on the new charges of killing Bonnie Tate and the Bowers twins in Mountain City had taken only fifteen minutes, but it was fifteen of the most intense minutes of my life. The courtroom was packed with relatives and friends of Darren and David Bowers. Judge Glass was at his most belligerent, Maynard at his most flippant. He wouldn’t stop smiling. I wanted to crawl under the defense table and hide until it was over.