Perri O'Shaughnessy - Presumption Of Death

“We’re guarding them,” Megan said. “That’s all I can say right now.”

“Good night, then.”

Paul came in. “News from the hospital?” he asked, referring to Britta, who still hadn’t made any statement.

“No. Something else. It’s handled. What time is it?”

“Nine.”

“What’s Bob up to?”

“Passed out on the couch. Jet lag.”

“Let’s get him into bed and go to bed too.”

“Sounds like a plan.” He had moved in on her and begun kissing her. She led Bob into the study and said good night, then went into the bedroom. Paul had just taken his pants off.

“Am I mistaken, or are those polyester boxers you’re wearing?”

“Silk is so flammable,” Paul said. So Nina pulled off her jeans.

“What happened to the little cotton things?” he said. “Are you wearing polyester too? ‘ ’Ave you seen Polyester Pam,’ ” he sang, and reached for her underpants.

“In a minute.” She managed to wiggle free and headed for the bathroom, and heard Paul exclaim ere she dove out of sight, “Well, I’ll be darned. They do protect the genitalia.”

“C ALL WILLIS WHITEFEATHER.” WISH WAS ESCORTED to the stand.

Nina’s turn to speak first had come. She had a five-page outline of questions to guide Wish gently through his story. The object was to let Salas see and believe him. Of course, if Wish was bound over for trial, Jaime would have months to go over every stutter in the transcript, the better to hang Wish with at trial. Inconsistent statements would naturally occur in the two proceedings, and Wish would look like a liar.

But Salas couldn’t be left with a print on a camera and a picture of Danny’s charred skull. They couldn’t win the prelim without exposing the interior of Wish’s own skull. Nina inhaled, exhaled, picked up her outline.

They started at ten-fifteen. By eleven-thirty they had gotten through the whole story of Wish’s move to the Monterey Peninsula, his studies, his work for Paul, his interest in criminal cases, his history with Danny, his visit from Danny at Aunt Helen’s house, and the subsequent events on Robles Ridge. The court reporter ran her machine, which turned each word to stone. Nina kept Wish on a short rein, never letting him say more than a couple of sentences.

Jaime sat back and enjoyed the show. He made not a single objection. The more Wish said, the longer the rope. The transcript could be gone over, at leisure, for months between prelim and trial, and every detail of Wish’s background checked. Any exaggeration of his accomplishments, any denigration of his failures, could be thrown back at him to attack his credibility.

But Nina needed Wish to tell the judge about himself, based on a gut-level judgment: that Salas would find points of commonality with Wish that might develop into sympathy and understanding. Salas didn’t like her much, but for all his possible bias she felt that his intentions with regard to his responsibility were serious.

The judge paid attention and took notes. She had surprised him by making the hearing real, not just a pro forma exercise. Part of her calculation had involved the fact that he was new on the bench and still capable of being surprised. He also was not as detached as he would become; he still took some things personally, she had noticed. If she could involve him in Wish’s story, show him someone telling the truth-

And now he was involved, listening intently. Wish was explaining why he had driven all the way to San Juan Bautista for medical treatment.

“All I could think about was getting away. I decided not to go home because he might follow me there, so I headed the other way, toward Salinas. Then I thought he was behind me and I got on 101 and kept driving, but I think I was getting faint or delirious or something. I had been feeling very blurry, but now I started feeling a lot of pain all over. I realized I had to go to a hospital. I was at the turnoff for San Juan Bautista so I went there and stopped at the gas station to ask where the hospital was.”

“And you subsequently checked in at the Las Flores Clinic?”

“They admitted me overnight and kept me there the next day. They were worried about infection on my leg and thought I had a concussion. Turned out I did have a concussion.”

Nina showed him photos marked in evidence showing Wish’s injuries, which Paul had taken just before his shower on the night of his arrest, and he authenticated these. Now Salas had in-your-face evidence that Wish also had an impact injury.

It’s coming together, she thought with gathering excitement, and she brought out the photographs taken by Wish’s Canon. She passed a set out to Jaime, then handed a marked set to the clerk. Up they went to the judge.

“Now, Mr. Whitefeather. You testified that in the course of the fire you took photographs at the moment you believed you saw the arsonist running down the trail?”

“Yes.” Wish sat forward in the witness stand, fanning out the photos. “Then I popped out the memory card and stuck it in my pocket, and then I popped in another memory card before I started running and dropped the camera.”

“Are these the twelve photos you took numbered in the sequence in which you took them?” Don’t dither, she prayed, don’t say I think so or that’s what Paul said. She had given Wish the set as soon as she had prints and Wish had told her he could identify the shots.

She needn’t have worried. “Yes,” Wish said positively.

“Nine of these have no people in them?”

“Correct.” Nina paused to let the judge and prosecutor confirm this for themselves, and to see the flames, the forest, the night.

“I direct your attention to Photographs Number One, Three, and Four. Would you pull those out, please.”

“Okay.”

“Are all three of these photographs of the same person?”

“No. There are two people here. One person in Number One, and then two shots of another person in Numbers Three and Four.”

She had done it, provided hard evidence that someone else was on the mountain. Jaime was still looking from one photograph to the other. Salas was nodding. A lot of hard work was paying off.

“May I approach the witness?” Nina asked Salas. He nodded, and she went up to Wish at the witness stand and took the first photo, Number One, Danny holding his hand up to shield his face, saying something.

“This first photo? Do you recognize the man?”

“Yes.”

“Who is it?”

“A man named Robert Johnson,” Wish said. Nina shook her head and tried again.

“Look again, please. Tell us who this man is.”

“It’s Coyote. Robert Johnson.”

“B-but that’s Danny Cervantes, isn’t it?”

Wish looked hard at the photo.

“No, that’s Coyote.”

“Well, let’s take a look at Numbers Three and Four,” Nina said, to give Wish a chance to get his head straight. He had been doing so well! “Those are photos of the same person, you said. Do you recognize that person?”

“Yes. It’s Danny Cervantes.”

“Don’t you have it backward?”

Jaime was up. “I must object. She’s cross-examining her own witness at this point. He’s made the identifications.” Nina rolled her eyes at Wish, trying to get him to wake up from whatever dream he was in. But Wish just looked back at her, wide-eyed.

“What’s the problem?” Salas asked her.

“Well, it was my understanding-it’s clear that-let me just confirm this identification, Your Honor.”

“Go ahead. It’s important. Objection overruled.”

“Let’s go back to Photo Number One. What is that person wearing?”

“Dark shirt and pants. Doc Martens.”

“And who is that person? Look carefully, Wish.”