Stop, Tony wanted to say. He felt a sour sickness of his own, the sensation of seconds passing too slowly. Sam’s catharsis, if that was what everyone was witnessing, would leave him without dignity. The one possibility more terrible for Tony to contemplate was that he was witnessing a perverse act of contrition, performed with his assistance by a murderer, who now scanned the courtroom for sympathy from beneath a mask of self-abasement.
“Did you ever decide to break it off?” Tony asked.
“Yes.” Sam licked his lips and took a quick, nervous gulp of water. “Because of Sue. Once you start lying to someone you love, it’s like you’re alone, watching them through a window you put there yourself. The night Marcie died, I wanted to tell her.…”
The last words had the bitter ring of guilt. Seemingly despite her own wishes, the beautician looked up at Sam.
“That night,” Tony asked softly, “what really happened?”
Sitting back, Sam took a deep breath. His voice, newly raw, seemed to come from the back of his throat. “She was nervous—I thought she must know what I was going to say. Then we got to the park, and she said she loved me and wanted to do something special. So she whispered it in my ear.…”
“Anal intercourse.”
“Yes.” Now Sam could not look at anyone. “I’d given her one of my rubbers. She kept it in her purse for me.…”
Someone coughed. Other than Sam’s voice, and his own, it was the first sound Tony had heard in moments.
“What happened then?” Tony asked.
“God…” Sam gave a disjointed shake of the head. “I wanted to.…”
“So you did. In the back seat of the car.”
“Yes.” Sam touched the water glass but did not drink. “When it was over, I felt so dirty. Then she asked me how it was, and I thanked her.…”
“After that,” Tony asked, “did Marcie dress again?”
Sam drank the water in one long swallow. “I pulled up her underpants in the back,” he finally said. “To cover her.”
Tony felt himself wince. But the question was a necessary one; somehow Sam must account for where Marcie’s blood was and why it was not on the back upholstery.
“What about the condom?”
“I’d started to take it off.” For a moment, Sam’s voice had the undertone of fear recalled. “Then there was this light in the window—headlights from a car at the rear of the parking lot. All I wanted was for us to get dressed. So we did, and then the lights went out. I figured that they’d just gotten there.…”
“Once you were dressed, what happened next?”
Sam raised his head. His next words were soft, astonished. “She asked me if I’d marry her.”
“Were you surprised?”
“Yes.” Sam’s tone was ashen. “She said she could give me babies.”
“Did she tell you she was pregnant?”
“No.” For the first time, Sam looked at the jury—a sideways glance—then looked back. “If I hadn’t panicked, I’m sure she would have. But I never gave her a chance.”
“Why was that?”
“Because I was so shocked, I think. It was like I woke up and saw how far I’d let her go.
“I started blurting things. That Sue was still my wife; that we’d been married all these years; that we’d created a life together. That I was much too old for Marcie; that I didn’t want her to throw her life away. I was trying to sound selfless, but I came off like this phony uncle on those kids’ shows my own kids used to watch, talking down to the five-year-olds.
“Finally, I just broke down and asked her to protect me—” Sam caught himself. “A sixteen-year-old girl, and I wanted her to protect me, the vice principal of Lake City High. Protect me from what I’d done to her…”
Turning away, Sam fought back tears. But Stella’s gaze had filled with a disgust so deep that, to Tony, she could barely contain it. Quite deliberately, she let the pencil drop from her hands, drawing the jurors’ attention, then Sam’s. They stared at each other across the courtroom, Stella’s contempt reflected in the sudden redness of Sam’s face.
Softly, Tony asked, “How did Marcie react?”
Sam turned from Stella. When he took a breath, his body shuddered with it. “I can still remember how she looked,” he said finally. “The angriest expression I’d ever seen from her was more like determination, and only when she was running track. But now she was crying, and the look on her face was close to hate, and I could see how much feeling she’d invested in me.
“ ‘You want me to help you,’ she said. ‘I’ll start helping you right now.’
“ ‘Wait,’ I said.
“ ‘For what?’ She was almost screaming, and I could see the pulse in her temples. ‘For you to give me more precious memories? I’d die first.…’ ”
Pausing, Sam touched his throat. “ ‘I’d die first,’ ” he repeated slowly. “I’ve had three months, now, to think about that. To think about how I’d made her feel…”
I’d die first.
Caught in the middle of Sam’s drama, Tony wondered why Sam had never told him this before. “What did you do…?”
“Marcie got out of the car. Just like that, she was running into the park. Then I couldn’t see her anymore.…” Sam’s voice broke, then recovered. “I was too afraid to follow her, afraid someone might see me, maybe the couple I imagined in the other car. So I just let her go. The next time I saw her, she was dead.…”
Sam turned, and his eyes met Tony’s. Was he looking for distrust, Tony wondered, or disbelief? “And you never knew she was pregnant,” Tony said.
Pausing, Sam writhed in the witness chair, and his voice became soft again. “Once she knew I didn’t want to marry her, I guess she couldn’t tell me. If she only had, I swear I’d have found a way to help her, even if I’d had to tell Sue everything. Instead it’s like I killed her.
“But I didn’t.” Sam turned to the jury again, words filling with passion. “Not the way Ms. Marz says I did. Because I could never, ever take the life of a girl I cared for so much. Or anyone’s life.” Sam’s voice became anguished, close to angry. “I’m not like that. I’m not the kind of person who would do that to protect myself. That’s why I went to the police. Look at where it got me—here.” Suddenly he looked away. “God help me, it’s my own fault, and other innocent people have paid a far bigger price. But I didn’t kill her, and when we found her body, I—”
In the stricken silence, Sam stopped, as if he had lost the thread. The courtroom was like a frieze: Karoly’s expression of honest bewilderment; Stella’s face, as hard as Tony had ever seen it, the almond eyes watching Sam with fierce avidity. But the jury, Tony noticed, no longer looked away.
“That night,” Tony asked curtly, “what did you do next?”
Sam’s face seemed rubbery, his eyes unfocused. “I left. That’s all. I was afraid, so I just left her there.…”
“About what time?”
“I don’t know.” Pausing, Sam gathered himself, his tone becoming subdued. “I told the police about ten, but that was a guess. It could have been nine-thirty.…” Turning to the jury, Sam finished with terrible weariness. “I didn’t know time was important then. I just wanted to find her, still alive.”
Tony let the jury study Sam: twelve people watching a single man, his gaze imploring. “When you left,” Tony inquired at last, “did you see anyone else?”
“In the car. I wish I’d looked closer. But I couldn’t even see the make. All I remember is a head, ducking beneath the dashboard.” Sam’s face filled with shame and sorrow. “For a minute, I had this crazy fear—not for Marcie, but for me. Like the head was Sue, that she’d found me out…”
“After you left the park, what did you do?”
“At first, I went to school. Just sat in my office, wondering how I’d gotten here, what to do.” Sam’s hands gripped his knees now, and his stare was empty. “So I tried to call Sue, just to hear her voice. When she didn’t answer, I felt lost.
“And Sue was there.”
“Yeah. Sue was there.” Sam gave a fleeting, incongruous smile, as though remembering this last moment of hope. “She was watching TV, in bed. So I got in next to her, like I had a thousand times before.…” When Sam gazed past him, expression pleading now, Tony knew that he was looking at Sue. “But that night, I loved her more than I had in years. All I wanted was another chance.…”
Glistening, Sam’s eyes did not move from Sue. The beautician’s face, Tony saw, was curious, perhaps softer.
Quietly, Tony asked, “Can you explain your fingerprints on Marcie’s watch?”
Sam was still for a moment. Then, with apparent reluctance, he turned from Sue. “When we were making love,” he answered in a monotone, “I held Marcie’s wrists.”
Tony walked closer, as if to shelter Sam from his own shame. “The blood on the steering wheel? Can you explain that?”
Slowly, Sam nodded.
“I’m sorry,” Tony said. “We need an audible response.”
Sam folded his hands in front of him, head down. “At the high school, I went to the locker room. To flush the condom down the toilet. When I took it off, I saw Marcie’s blood on it.” His eyes shut. “I guess it got on my hands.…”
Silent, Sam began to weep. He would not hide his face.
Looking up at Karoly, Tony said, “No further questions,” and, for once, was glad of this.
TWENTY-TWO
Stella Marz was out of her chair before Tony reached his.
Face tear-streaked, Sam braced himself. Take your time, Tony had said, and don’t ever lose your temper. She wants the jury to see that.
“You lied to your wife,” Stella snapped.
As Tony had instructed, Sam paused, to impose his own rhythm on her. “Yes,” he said softly. “I lied to Sue.”
“So you wouldn’t get caught.”
Sam glanced at Sue. “So I wouldn’t lose her, yes.”
“You misled Marcie’s parents.”
“Yes.”
“You lied to the principal too. Told him you hadn’t slept with her.”
“I didn’t want to lose my job—”
“Yes or no.”
“Yes.”
“You lied to the police about your relationship to Marcie.”
“Yes.”
“So you wouldn’t get in trouble.”
Sam folded his hands. “Yes,” he said dully. “So I wouldn’t get in trouble.”
“And you lied to the police about what you and Marcie did that night.”
Sam paused, looking down. “Like I said, I was embarrassed—”
Interrupting, Stella’s voice dripped contempt. “Isn’t it your pattern, Mr. Robb, to lie anytime the truth will get you into trouble?”
Sam crossed his arms now. “No. It isn’t. Or I’d have never gone to the police.”
It was a good answer, Tony thought, and an important one; Tony would not intervene, he had told Sam, unless Stella made it unavoidable. Sam liked this, he said—the jury must see him as on his own. But Tony’s palms were already damp with tension, worse for his passivity.
“But you lied to the police,” Stella prodded, “didn’t you?”
“About some things—”
“Lied to the police, and to your wife, and to Marcie’s parents, and to your principal. Every time the truth would hurt you, you lied.”
Sam paused, the first flash of anger in his eyes. But he kept his calm. “Telling the police I was with Marcie didn’t help me, Ms. Marz. Saying where I’d last seen her didn’t help me. As near as I can tell, that’s why I’m sitting here, answering your questions.…”
“Watch it,” Tony said, under his breath.
Abruptly, Sam paused, as if hearing his friend’s voice, then added softly, “That, and my own mistakes. I’ll never stop being sorry for that.”
The jury, Tony saw, watched Sam intently, looking for cracks. Sam was walking the line that Tony had drawn for him—to neutralize Stella without appearing too clever.
Crisply, she asked, “Aren’t you still doing what you’ve done ever since you slept with Marcie Calder—lying to this jury, to keep out of trouble?”
“No.” Pausing, Sam turned to the jury, looking straight at the beautician. “No. I’m not lying now.…”
“But you only admitted the affair because DNA testing showed that Marcie Calder was pregnant with your child.”
Slowly, Sam faced her. “I guess that’s so. But I had a reason to be afraid. And, like my lawyer says, there’s a difference between lying and murder. We all lie, Ms. Marz. But we don’t all kill. I didn’t kill.”
“He’s going too far,” Saul murmured. Silent, Tony nodded.
Stella put her hands on her hips. “So you were just an innocent man, trapped in a bad situation.”
Sam scowled at her. “I trapped myself, it seems like. By coming to the police—”
“By making Marcie Calder pregnant, you mean.”
“That too, Ms. Marz. That too.”
When Stella paused, the Calders stared at Sam with open hatred. Softly, Stella said, “Tell the jury how you seduced Marcie Calder.”
Watching Sam, Tony felt himself tense. “It didn’t happen like that,” Sam answered.
“No? Did she seduce you, Mr. Robb?”
Sam looked down. “She came to my office and said she wanted to be with me … that way. I’m not saying it wasn’t my responsibility. All I’m saying is that it wasn’t my initiative.”
Stella gave him a derisive smile. “I guess you’d never had sex with a student before—”
“Objection,” Tony called out at once. “May I approach the bench, Your Honor?”
Karoly nodded. “Of course.”
Heart racing, Tony crossed the courtroom; as Karoly leaned over the bench, Stella’s level gaze met his.
“Nice try,” Tony murmured, then said to Karoly, “Whether my client has, or has not, had sex with any other student is irrelevant to murder—”
“I disagree,” Stella cut in. “And Mr. Robb is about to tell us the sad story of his seduction by Marcie Calder. I have a witness, Jenny Travis, whom Mr. Robb coerced into having sex when she was seventeen years old. That goes to his credibility. And to his predisposition to mistreat women.”
“To kill them?” Tony retorted. “That’s the issue here, and there is no evidence of any predisposition to violence—let alone murder.” Staring at Karoly, Tony made his voice low and angry. “This isn’t an academic debate, Your Honor. The proposed line of questioning and Ms. Travis’s story are grossly prejudicial to the jury’s attitude toward my client, without proving a thing about this supposed murder. If there’s one more word about this, I’ll demand a mistrial: if I don’t get it here, I’ll get it in the court of appeals.” He turned to Stella. “You’re losing, and you know it. You’re trying to trap the judge in a mistake—”
“Bullshit,” she cut in, and now her anger seemed quite real. “Your client has a pathological attitude toward women, and he’s lying about it.”
“So don’t go out with him, Stella. But don’t ever try to railroad him on a murder charge.”
“All right,” Karoly put in, moments later than he should have. He looked from Tony to Stella, indecisive but knowing that it was the defense, not the prosecution, that could appeal if it lost. Avoiding reversal was the first instinct of a cowardly judge; glancing at Stella, Tony saw this knowledge in her eyes.
“I’m sustaining the objection,” Karoly said to Stella. “Any more, and I’ll give Mr. Lord his mistrial, and hold you in contempt. Understood?”
Stella lowered her eyes, struggling to conceal her anger. “Yes, Your Honor.”
“Thank you, Your Honor,” Tony said promptly. Retreating back to the defense table before the judge could change his mind, Tony felt Sue’s grave brown eyes.
“Another bullet dodg
ed,” Saul murmured.
Tony’s heart was still racing; on the witness stand, Sam Robb breathed deeply, his eyes half shut. When they opened, it was to look at Tony with gratitude.
“Tell us,” Stella asked with renewed calm, “how it was you first had sex with Marcie Calder.”
Sam faced her again. “She came to my office and said she loved me.”
“And then?”
Sam puffed his cheeks, but kept his eyes on Stella. “She said she wanted to go down on me.”
Stella’s eyes glinted. “As in oral sex, Mr. Robb? I just want to make sure the jury understands you.”
“Yes. That’s what I meant.”
“What did you say to this offer?”
“Say?” Sam’s words were mumbled. “Not much.”
“Not even ‘yes,’ ‘no,’ or ‘thank you’? As I remember, you thanked her for anal sex that night.”
Sam flushed with anger. “I don’t remember what I said—”
“You just let her?”
“Yes.”
“Because she wanted to so much.”
Sam looked down. “I wanted it too.”
Stella gave him a cold stare. “So at least it wasn’t too hard for you.…”
“No.”
“Do you know if Marcie Calder had ever done anything like that before?”
“No.” Sam’s voice was quiet now. “She said she hadn’t.…”
“But you didn’t stop her.”
“No.”
“Did you achieve climax, Mr. Robb?”
Tony stood again. “Objection,” he said. “No one wants to hear this, Your Honor. Least of all Ms. Calder’s parents. And it’s irrelevant to any issue in this case—”
“Nonsense.” Stella’s voice was crisp, confident. “It’s the murder of this girl for which Mr. Robb is standing trial. The credibility of Mr. Robb’s account, real or imagined, rests on his relationship to Marcie Calder, who he implies would have rather died than live without him. Mr. Robb has given that testimony voluntarily, and the state—which alone can speak for this dead girl—deserves some latitude in cross-examination.”
Karoly pursed his lips, gazing out at Marcie’s parents. “Overruled.” He said to Stella, “Please re-ask the question.”
Silent Witness Page 45
