by Tim Green
'The reason you're here today, Yusef," she continued, "is because you have the constitutional right to a speedy trial. In other words, you can force the issue. The state can only keep you incarcerated so long before they have to either give you a trial or let you go. Sometimes, in fact oftentimes, like in your case, the defense, us, wants to delay the trial to have time to accumulate more evidence to ... to get you off. But only you can waive those rights yourself, in front of the judge. I can't do it for you.
"So, if that's okay with you, I'm advising you to waive those rights so my friend the detective can find out some more information that's going to help us get you out of here. I know it's not a pleasant prospect to stay in jail while you wait, but I don't want to go to trial until I think we can put forth our best case. Okay?"
Yusef nodded and mumbled something.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't hear you, Yusef."
He looked up at her and said, "It's not so bad, bein' in jail."
That was what she thought he'd said. That was what she was afraid of.
"Well," she said, "that's good that it's not so bad. You just keep working on those classes, and when we get you out, we'll see what we can do about getting you a place to live that's even better, so you can get your life going in the right direction."
Yusef nodded. It didn't really seem possible to him, but he was willing to give it a shot.
"I'm going to go out to the courtroom now," she told him. "They'll bring you out later and we'll go through the procedure. It's nothing to get worried about. It's no big deal. There may be some people there, but don't worry, they're not there to see you. They'll be coming in for another trial I'm doing that starts at nine."
"Cody Grey trial, huh?" the young boy said, looking up with stars in his eyes.
"Yes," she said, "it's his trial."
"Yeah," Yusef said, nodding with satisfaction, "I told them boys I had the same lawyer as him when we saw you on TV. No one believed me.... You think you could get his autograph for me?" he said, looking directly at her for an instant before turning his gaze back to his hands.
Madison smiled and wondered what it would feel like to bring so much happiness to a young boy, even as desperate as this one, with something as simple as signing an autograph.
"I think I can do that," she said. "You keep going to those classes, and I'll have it for you the next time we meet."
Yusef, Madison could tell, was nervous despite what she'd said. When he came out into the courtroom through a side door with the bailiff, his eyes got wide and he glanced around uneasily. The courtroom was now filling rapidly with people and press. They went through the pleading, and Judge Connack was as gentle as he could be without losing the authority that made him stand out as one of the most respected judges from Dallas to San Antonio. Madison took care to glare at Van Rawlins when he came in and sat down beside Ben Cherrit. She wanted him to know that she knew he was simply trying to waste her time by forcing this pleading now, before the trial. Van returned her look only briefly. His smile was smug, as if to say that she'd seen nothing yet. And she hadn't.
When the pleading was over, Madison shook Yusef's hand, and he was led away. She turned to look for Cody and Marty, and it was then she saw Jenny Grey walking into the courtroom from a side door, escorted by Ben Cherrit. Jenny was dressed in a conservative, dark gray suit with a bright red blouse. She looked stunning, much different from the last time Madison had seen her, the morning after the murder. Without thinking, Madison ran her fingers through her own hair. Jenny Grey had that effect on other women.
She looked like she was just passing through on her way to Beverly Hills.
Cherrit sat her down without any commotion near the back of the courtroom and then joined Van in the front. Madison had a sinking feeling in her stomach. She couldn't think of any good reason why Jenny Grey would be in the courtroom. She glanced over at Van Rawlins, who had also seen Jenny and was looking on with a smile. Madison knew what it meant, and she was furious.
Matty and Cody walked in and passed right by Jenny without looking at her. They left a wake of press behind them at the door. Madison could see that Cody was upset, and she figured correctly that the press must have somehow gotten wind that Jenny was here and had been badgering him to get a comment on his feelings about his wife's unexpected testimony. Madison realized Ben Cherrit was at her shoulder, and she turned to him. He was holding a sheet of paper out for her.
She took it and said disgustedly, "Let me guess, Ben, an amended witness list-
He looked at her apologetically and said, "We faxed a copy to your office first thing this morning when we knew for sure."
"And, of course," she said, "I was here, so I didn't get it.... Good one, Ben. I'll remember this."
"Sorry."
"I'll bet," Madison mumbled. Cody and Marty were beside her now, and she knew that they knew.
"What can we do?" Marty asked. "Do you think she's going to sink us?"
"I can't think of anything else," Madison said. "We didn't ask her to testify, and she's not here to watch."
Madison saw that Cody had spotted his wife in the back. She imagined that his face was calm the night he'd slammed Jeff Board around at the Green Mesquite compared to what it was right now.
"First off," she said, looking sternly at Cody, whose face was red with rage, "Cody, you've got to cool down. I can see you're upset; anyone would be. This is ... 1 can't believe she's doing it. But if she is, she is. I'll try to do what 1 can, but I've got a bad feeling. ... But you've got to calm yourself. If the jury sees you looking at her like that, they'll convict you for sure."
"Ms. McCall?"
Madison turned around. George Freeman, the court bailiff, was leaning over the bar and tugging at her sleeve. She couldn't imagine what he wanted.
"I'm sorry, Ms. McCall," he said, "I know you're getting ready for the trial, but we're having a time of it in the back with the boy. We tried to get him out of here. They want to take him back to the jail, but he's got himself wrapped around the steering wheel of the county bus and won't let go for nothing. I'm afraid he'll get himself hurt by those boys from the county. They're either gonna mace him or use their sticks. He's gone half-crazy, and he's screaming that he has to see you. Could you come?"
Madison looked behind her. The jury was being led in and she knew the judge would soon follow.
"All right," she said, starting for the side door.
"Marty," she said, turning back to her open-mouthed friend as she walked away, "Ask to approach the bench and tell Walter what's up. I'll be there. Just stall...."
There was a ruckus out in back of the courthouse. Yusef had his arms and legs wrapped around the steering column. Outside the bus stood the driver and various workers from the courthouse. Inside, two county guards and a policeman were trying desperately to pry him loose. Each of them was screaming directions to the other, and Yusef was howling in pain and determined rage. His eyes were shut tight, and tears were streaming down his face. Madison ran to the doorway of the bus.
"Stop it!" Madison cried. "Stop it!"
Her shrieking voice cut through the din, and Yusef's tormentors backed warily away from him and down the steps of the small gray bus.
"He's gone crazy, ma'am," the cop said to her in a heavy southern drawl, "you better stay back."
"I'm his damn lawyer," she said, shoving the men out of her way. When it was quiet she held her fingertips to her temples and said to Yusef, "Are you all right?"
"Yes," he said, shaking with fear and exhaustion, unwrapping himself from the steering column. "I'm sorry. I had to talk to you."
He was facing her now, looking at her beseechingly.
"It's him!" he said. "He's out there!"
Yusef was pointing toward the front window of the bus.
'The man! The man in black! I saw him! I saw him drive up in a car!"
"Wait," Madison said, "calm down. What are you saying? You saw him?"
"He was right there!" Yusef was
furiously stabbing the air with his finger, pointing outside the bus. "When I came out, he pulled up in a big gray car! A woman got out, and he drove away!"
Yusef could tell she was doubting him. "I told you the tiuth about Ramon's ear, didn't I?" he pleaded. "I'm tellin' you the tiuth now!" Suddenly Madison said, "Was she tall, with dark hair?" "Uh-huh," Yusef nodded. "She was--" "Was she wearing a dark gray suit?" "I think so," Yusef said, frowning, "and red, a red shirt...."
As the trial was beginning, on the other end of Texas, in the panhandle, the general drove to a shopping center on the outskirts of Amarillo on his way in to the office. He drove his Jeep around the lot for five minutes, looking for the closest spot to the stores. He was tempted to park in a handicapped space, he'd done it before. But today he didn't want to draw any attention to himself at all, not even a parking ticket. The general walked briskly to a pay phone on the brick wall outside the grocery store that anchored the small center.
He picked up the phone and noticed that his hands were shaking. He couldn't help it. He hated having the pit with him. He hadn't been able to decide where to leave it, so he took it wherever he went. It was now sitting in the back of his Jeep in its case. The general felt almost giddy with the idea that within a few short hours he would have the rest of the money, and the last pit would be out of his hands. It was as if he were carrying around a life sentence, which he was. If caught with the pit, he certainly had no conceivable defense to explain it. He would tell them everything if he was caught, but he knew they would tear him apart anyway. He knew exactly what would be done. They would take him to a remote warehouse somewhere where these kinds of things were done. He would be put into a sensory deprivation chamber and given hallucinogenic drugs until sanity was stripped from his mind. Then they would grill him.
It would take about ten days, and during that entire time, he would be under a suicide watch because he, like anyone who had ever been interrogated thoroughly by military intelligence or the CIA, would prefer death to what they would do to him. When it was over, he would be all right--a little shell shocked, but he would recover. Then they would put on a court-martial for the media and convict him of treason. He would be put away somewhere in a military prison, where books weren't written and prisoners didn't enjoy the vast array of rights that common serial killers, child molesters, and rapists did in the civilian penal system. He would simply cease to exist. He would disappear. The general wanted to disappear, but not in that way.
He dialed the number. On the third ring a woman's voice said, "Gem Star Technologies."
"This is Ken Frost," the general said. "Is Mr. Moss available?"
"I'm sony Mr. Frost, he's busy at the moment, can I take a number?"
"Yes, please have him call me at seven, nine, five, eight, eight, two, two, six, one, nine."
The woman repeated the number. The general confirmed it and hung up. He looked at his watch to note the time. In thirty-six hours he would have the money. In two months he would be in Grand Cayman. From there, who could say?
The general looked around him carefully before leaving the phone. He saw nothing and no one unusual. He wiped the dried spit from the corners of his mouth and a smile crept across his face.
Madison entered the courtroom and went immediately to the bench where Marty and Van Rawlins were arguing with the judge.
"Thank you, Marty," she said.
"They had a small problem with Yusef Williams," she explained. "I'm sorry, your honor." Judge Connack's stem look faded instantly.
"Well?" he said. "Are you ready to proceed with this case now?"
"No, your honor," she said. "I want an adjournment for at least a week. The District Attorney has found it necessary to spring a surprise witness on me this morning, as I'm sure you already know, and I'm not prepared for this witness, your honor."
The judge scowled. Madison knew the last thing he wanted was a delay in this trial. He didn't want to have to deal with the media circus any more than he had to. He had already fouled his schedule for three months to come because of this trial.
"Mr. Rawlins," he said. "There's no paperwork here that suggests you have ever deposed or even interviewed this witness. Just what exactly is going on here?"
"Your honor," Van said, "I'm sorry that the court and counsel were not informed of Mrs. Grey's appearance as a witness, but it wasn't until yesterday evening that I knew myself she was going to testify. She is here for the single purpose of telling the jury exactly when Cody Grey arrived at home on the night of the murder. I have no written statement from her. I don't even have any trial notes from my brief discussion with her, your honor. It's as much a surprise to me as it is to counsel. We tried to question Mrs. Grey weeks ago and were told that she was invoking her right to spousal immunity. Apparently, she has changed her mind in the interests of justice."
Madison scoffed at that.
"Ms. McCall," Judge Connack said, "that really doesn't seem unreasonable to me. If Mr. Rawlins is limiting his direct examination to that one question, I don't see why we can't proceed, can you?"
"Your honor," she said, "I need time to prepare a cross-examination of this witness. I need time to investigate her past and find if there is anything that would impeach her credibility as a witness against my client."
The judge thought about that for a moment, then said, "All right, Ms. McCall, I'm granting your motion for an adjournment. I will reconvene this court in one hour."
"Walter, an hour?" she blurted out, forgetting herself completely.
He didn't like her calling him by his first name, especially in front of Rawlins.
"Yes, Ms. McCall," the judge said, "you have the witness's husband at your complete disposal. If he doesn't know how to impeach her, no one will."
With that, Judge Connack turned to the jury and said, "Ladies and gentleman, I apologize for the delay, but I must call a brief adjournment. Court will reconvene in one hour."
The judge let the gavel drop once, and then he was gone.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Madison worked furiously with Cody for the full hour. She focused every bit of her energy on finding out everything she could about Jenny Grey, every bit of dirt, every weakness, every strength she had. It was a good exercise for Cody, anyway. She could tell it was cathartic for him to revisit every evil aspect of his wife that he could think of. It helped lessen the pain of seeing her sitting there, looking like a million dollars. Madison took the final fifteen minutes to sketch together a cross-examination plan. She didn't have much, but she'd do her best to cast at least a little doubt about Jenny's veracity. She couldn't figure out why she felt so eager to tear into Cody's wife.
On their way back into the courtroom, as the three of them walked down the aisle, Madison leaned Marty's way and said hurriedly in a low voice, "When Jenny Grey leaves this courtroom after she testifies, you follow her, Marty. 1 can't explain it all now, but when she's done, she'll probably go out the side door to the back. If she does, I think she'll get picked up by a man in a big gray car. Get the license number, Marty. I can't explain it all now, but I have to have it. Cody's life may depend on it."
No sooner had they sat down than George began to rattle off his litany, and Walter Connack's imposing figure appeared from his chambers. He climbed the stair to his bench like a giant mounting the turret of his castle. He slammed his gavel down and called the court to order. Van called Jenny Grey to the stand, and the crowd began to murmur.
Jenny took the stand and the oath with her head held high. Van Rawlins poised himself strategically at the comer railing of the jury box so Jenny would have to look toward the jury to answer him, and they could see her face clearly. The imperious look she had worn when she first walked in was gone. In it's place was the look of confident humility and sincerity.
"Mrs. Grey," Van Rawlins said gently. "1 know it is very hard for you to be here today, and I will not belabor your personal pain, but I must say that I am moved by your willingness to testify and your commitment abov
e all else to the truth."
Van let that sink into the jury while Madison fought to keep the disgust off of her face.
"I am only going to ask you a few simple questions, Mrs. Grey," Van said benevolently, "and then I'll let you go...."
Madison knew exactly what he was doing. He was setting her up to be the insensitive bitch-lawyer who would torment the helpless and distraught wife of a killer in cross-examination.
"1 know that on the night of Jeff Board's brutal murder," Van began, "you left your husband after he viciously beat Mr. Board at the Green Mesquite."
"Objection, your honor," Madison said calmly, "is counsel giving us his closing argument, or is he questioning the witness?"
"Sustained. Get to the point, Mr. Rawlins."
"What did you do after you left the restaurant?" Van said without missing a beat.
"1 went home and went to bed," Jenny said. She was speaking in the timid voice of a little girl.
"And did you wake up during the night?" Van said.
"Yes."
"What woke you up?" Van asked.
"I heard Cody coming in," she said. "I was staying in the guest bedroom next to the garage. He hit a trash can or something when he pulled in, and the crash woke me up. I listened to him come into the house and go upstairs."
"What time was that, Mrs. Grey?" Van said, as if he dreaded the question himself.
'Two-thirty in the morning," Jenny said.
"How do you know?"
"There's a digital clock right next to the bed. I looked at it," she said, and a tear actually spilled out of the comer of her eye. Jenny let it roll all the way down her cheek and fall onto the front of her jacket before she bothered to wipe her face.
"1 have no further questions, your honor," Van said quietly, and then sat down to watch.
Madison rose from her seat and walked over to a comer of the jury box, the exact spot Van Rawlins had spoken from only moments ago. But her reasons were different. She wanted to stand by the jury so Jenny would look in their direction, but by positioning herself as if she were a juror, she also wanted hei voice to seem like one of theirs--so the jury would feel as if Madison's perspective and line of reasoning were their own. She took a deep breath and let it fly.
