by Randy Singer
At close quarters, even somebody as strong as the Wolfman was no match for an angry three-hundred-pound NFL lineman. Billy had been at the bottom of more than a few football piles. He wrenched his gun from the Wolfman’s hand and pistol-whipped him. As the Wolfman tried to squirm free, Jake jumped out of the cab, beating Clausen to the Wolfman’s gun, which the Wolfman had kicked away earlier at Billy’s command. Jake pointed it at Clausen, his hands shaking, and Clausen backed slowly away.
On the ground, Billy now had the Wolfman pinned on his stomach with one arm wrenched behind him. The barrel of Billy’s gun was planted against the base of the Wolfman’s skull. Blood dripped from Billy’s mouth onto the back of the Wolfman’s neck.
Squad cars were coming toward the scene. There were some frightened bystanders hiding behind cars halfway across the parking lot.
“Go ahead and try something,” Billy said to the Wolfman. “Because I’d love to pull the trigger before the cops get here. Even if you don’t, the odds are fifty-fifty that I’ll shoot.”
///
Sherman wasted no time attacking Julia King. He gave her a fake smile, circling like a shark with blood in the water.
“Good morning, Ms. King.”
“Good morning.”
“When you got home from confronting Erica, did you tell your husband where you had been?”
Julia balked at the question and looked like a deer caught in a trap. Tell the truth, Landon urged silently, nodding his head.
“I did.”
Sherman did a double take. “You did?”
Julia looked at Elias apologetically, and Elias nodded his encouragement. For the first time, Landon thought that their marriage might still have a chance.
“Yes.”
Sherman had an incredulous look on his face, a dramatic show for the jury. “Did you mention any of this when you were interviewed by the police?”
“No. I did not.”
“Do you understand that it’s a crime to impede an investigation like that?”
Elias nudged Landon, but he was already on his feet. “Objection!”
“Sustained.”
“But you did lie to the police; isn’t that right?”
Elias squirmed in his seat, and Landon hoped the jury wasn’t watching his client. Julia was keeping her cool much better.
“Yes, sir. I did.”
The General strutted a few steps and lowered his voice, creating a little more drama. “Isn’t it true that when you confronted Erica Jensen she told you that it was over between her and your husband?”
“I think I said that already.”
“Of course you did. But isn’t it also true that she told you the reason her relationship with your husband would be ending was that she would be going to the prosecutors the next day?”
“No. That’s not true at all.”
Sherman ignored the answer. “You went home and told Elias about Erica’s scheduled meeting; isn’t that right?”
“No, because I didn’t know about it myself.”
The General scoffed, another little display for the jury. “And you expect the jury to believe you on that point even though you lied to investigators about whether you met with Erica at all?”
“I’m telling the truth,” Julia said. But there was no fight in her voice.
“And for that we have your word; is that right?”
“Yes, sir. You have my word.”
“That’s all I have for this witness.” The General sat down, a little straighter in his seat, and glanced over at the jury with a smug look of satisfaction.
90
“CALL YOUR NEXT WITNESS,” Judge Deegan said.
Landon felt a tap on his shoulder. It was Detective Freeman, standing right in front of Sean Phoenix. She whispered in Landon’s ear. “We’ve got Kerri. She’s going to be fine.”
He felt the emotions explode inside him—gratefulness, relief, a renewed determination to exact justice. But he didn’t let it register in his expression. There was still plenty of work to be done.
“One second, Judge,” Landon said. Then to Freeman, “You’re sure?”
She nodded and handed him a piece of paper.
Landon turned back to the court and stood to his full height. “The defense calls Sean Phoenix.”
Phoenix rose slowly, gathered himself, and stopped next to Landon on his way to being sworn in. “You and Kerri are both going to regret this,” he hissed.
“I think she’s going to rather enjoy it,” Landon said, motioning over his shoulder.
Even Sean Phoenix, the world’s master at keeping his composure, could not prevent a flicker of surprise from crossing his face when he saw Kerri leaning against the back wall of the courtroom, arms crossed. She raised her index finger in a subtle wave, which Phoenix did not acknowledge. He walked to the well of the courtroom and took the oath.
Landon didn’t need notes for this one. He spent ten minutes going over Phoenix’s background—his role as CEO of Cipher Inc., his former work with the CIA, his background in espionage and counterintelligence.
“When you worked for the CIA, did there come a time when your identity was compromised and you were held prisoner in Syria?”
“Yes. That’s well documented.”
“Prior to that capture and interrogation, were you intimate with a Syrian woman named Fatinah Najar who worked as an undercover CIA operative in Syria?”
Landon could see the storm on Phoenix’s face, the flash in his eyes as he shot Kerri a look, but he didn’t bite on the question. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Isn’t it true that Fatinah Najar was arrested along with you, placed in a cell next to yours, and tortured by Syrian officials?”
Franklin Sherman pushed back his chair, a noisy display, and stood. “Am I in the wrong trial?” he asked. “What does this have to do with the murder of Erica Jensen?”
Landon turned to the judge. “If the court will bear with me a few minutes, it will be quite obvious.”
“Let’s link it up quickly,” Deegan ruled.
Landon turned back to the witness. “The CIA negotiated your release but did nothing to protect your lover, Fatinah Najar; isn’t that correct?”
Phoenix snorted. “You’ve been spending too much time on the Internet reading gossip sites. No, that’s not true.”
“Okay. Let’s talk about a few things we can agree on. Isn’t it true that Cipher Inc. has been sued more than a dozen times?”
“Yes. All of them without merit.”
“But you settled a couple of those cases; isn’t that right?”
“When lawyers like you sue us, even if the case has no merit, it’s sometimes cheaper to settle than it is to pay legal fees to defend.”
“And you detest those types of lawsuits; isn’t that right?”
Landon hoped that Phoenix would try to deny it. He had the tape from Kerri’s first interview ready to roll.
“Lawsuits are the American way.”
Phoenix was smart. It wasn’t a firm denial, but it wasn’t an admission either. “In addition to these civil suits, you and Cipher Inc. have also been prosecuted criminally; isn’t that true?”
“Your client tried to prosecute us for the alleged killing of a dictator in Sudan, a man who slaughtered thousands of innocent women and children. We were found not guilty.”
“John McBride, a plaintiff’s lawyer from Texas who’s under investigation for insider trading, sued you twice, didn’t he?”
Sean Phoenix hesitated, and Landon went to his counsel table. Elias handed him the suit papers.
“Yes,” Phoenix said.
“And you settled both cases, correct?”
“As I said, it was cheaper than going to trial.”
“Have you ever heard of a federal judge named Rodney Zimmerman?”
Phoenix pondered it for a moment. “That name does not ring a bell.”
“Let me see if I can refresh your memory. Judge Zimmerman served as one of the
top lawyers at the CIA when the director made the call to disavow Fatinah Najar—your lover—a woman who was ultimately tortured and killed by her Syrian captors. Does that help place the name?”
“Actually, Counsel, it does not.”
“Did you know that Judge Zimmerman is also under investigation for insider trading because he allegedly received funds from an account allegedly set up by John McBride?”
“That’s a lot of ‘allegedlies,’ Counselor. Regardless, it’s all news to me.”
Sherman stood for a second time. “You’ve given him a lot of rope, Judge, and I still don’t see how this connects.”
Instead of arguing the objection, Landon just fired his next question. “Are you telling us that it’s just coincidental, Mr. Phoenix, that all three men recently indicted for insider trading—Judge Zimmerman, John McBride, and Elias King—just happened to be enemies of you and your company?”
“Judge,” Sherman pleaded, “this is just rank speculation.”
Judge Deegan leaned forward. “Objection overruled,” she said. “I’d be interested in Mr. Phoenix’s answer.”
“Neither I nor my company have anything to do with the charges against these men.”
“Did you know, Mr. Phoenix, that new legal assistants for all three of these men started work within six months of each other?”
“Why would I know that?”
“Because Cipher Inc. placed them there. Because they were all operatives of Cipher Inc., including Erica Jensen. Isn’t that right?”
“You really ought to join your partner in writing legal thrillers, Counselor, because you’ve got quite the imagination.”
“Speaking of my partner—isn’t it true that Parker Clausen also works for you?”
Phoenix raised his eyebrows. “I don’t know where you’re getting this stuff.”
“Do you deny it?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Erica Jensen was one of your operatives; isn’t that true?”
Sean Phoenix crossed his legs and relaxed a little. They were falling into a rhythm. “No. It’s another lie.”
“But she fell in love with Elias King, became pregnant, and decided to go to the authorities and tell them the truth—that Cipher Inc. was paying her to frame Elias King for insider trading. When you found out, you had her killed. Isn’t that what happened?”
Franklin Sherman stood. He sighed dramatically and held out his arms. “I know he’s new at this, Judge, but that’s not even a question. It’s a speech.”
“I’ve heard better questions,” Judge Deegan agreed. “But I’ll allow the witness to answer.”
Sean Phoenix stared at Landon for a moment before answering. The look promised revenge, the same kind of revenge he had exacted on everyone else who had crossed him. “That’s a lie,” he said calmly. “A dangerous lie.”
“Why is it dangerous?” Landon asked.
“Because it could mislead the jury into thinking that your client is not a cold-blooded murderer,” Sean Phoenix said.
But both men knew what he really meant.
“You value loyalty in your company, don’t you?”
“Of course. Every company does.”
“And when a Cipher Inc. operative goes to the Feds and offers to testify against the company, it can cause all kinds of problems, can’t it?”
Landon watched closely as Sean Phoenix calculated his answer. If he denied it, Landon would ask detailed questions about the murder trial for the killing of Ahmed Al-Latif, a trial that resulted from a Cipher operative turning against the company. But if Phoenix admitted it, he would be playing into Landon’s theory of the case.
Phoenix shrugged, though his eyes fired darts at Landon. “If you say so, Counselor.”
91
IN THE MIDDLE OF HIS EXAMINATION, Landon experienced a brief pang of fear. This was the CEO of one of the most powerful organizations in the world. This man had orchestrated the deaths of three lawyers at Landon’s firm already. Who was Landon to think he could escape Sean Phoenix’s wrath?
But then he thought about Harry. He remembered his mentor’s relentless tenacity. “There are times,” Harry had told him, “when you are the only person standing between your client and a lifetime of incarceration. Sometimes, in your client’s defense, you may have to implicate some pretty powerful people. Never back down. And remember, if you’re going to shoot the king, you’d better kill the king.”
Sean Phoenix was already wounded. It was time to move in for the kill.
“Harry McNaughten figured this out, didn’t he?” Landon asked.
“I don’t know if Harry McNaughten had the same kind of fertile imagination as you or not.”
“He told his partners about it, and Parker Clausen called you.”
Phoenix smirked. “Is that a question?”
“Yes.”
“Then I deny it.”
“Do you also deny giving an order to have Harry McNaughten and Brent Benedict and Rachel Strach killed?”
Sean Phoenix had heard enough. He clenched his jaw and turned to the judge. “Is this the way our justice system works?” he asked. “I have to sit here and allow this man—” he motioned derisively toward Landon— “a man who has never raised a hand in the defense of our country, a man who has served years in prison because he sold out his teammates in a football game—I have to allow him to make these kinds of wild accusations against me?”
“This is precisely how our system works,” Judge Deegan said coldly. “And I’d suggest you learn to respect it.”
Sean Phoenix took a sip of water and turned back to Landon. He waited for a moment and then spoke in a calm voice, barely audible. “What was the question?”
“Whether you ordered the deaths of Harry McNaughten, Brent Benedict, and Rachel Strach.”
“No. Of course not. Next question.”
Landon took a deep breath and walked back to his counsel table. He picked up the piece of paper that Freeman had handed him just before Phoenix took the stand.
“What about my death and my client’s? Did you order those?”
Landon might as well have detonated five pounds of TNT in the courtroom. Murmurs rose from the spectators. Sherman leaped to his feet, shouting an objection, demanding a mistrial. Deegan banged her gavel.
“Approach the bench!” she demanded.
Landon and Sherman hustled forward, and Deegan began talking before Elias King could even make it to the front. She made little effort to keep her voice low enough so the jury wouldn’t hear. “I thought I told you that was off-limits,” she said, scolding Landon. “There was to be no mention of the attempt on your client’s life.”
Landon wondered if the judge would throw him in jail without even giving him a chance to explain. “We have evidence,” he said quickly. “Cell phone records. I’m about to reveal them. And it fits our theory of the case.”
Sherman was beside himself, pulsing with angry energy. He looked like he wanted to strike Landon. “I’ve never seen anything this underhanded,” he sputtered. “Talk about disrespecting the court.”
“I didn’t mean any disrespect,” Landon interjected.
“I move for a mistrial, and I move that the defendant be retained in custody without bond pending a new trial,” Sherman said.
“I’m inclined to grant the mistrial,” Deegan said, shaking her head. “Even after all the work to keep these jurors in place.” She eyeballed Landon. “You really haven’t given me any choice.”
By now, Elias had shuffled to the bench on his crutches, but even he could think of nothing to say in Landon’s defense.
“Judge, I can understand why the court’s upset, and I apologize. But if you would give me four questions—just four—I’ll show you how this all ties in. And if I don’t link it up in four questions, you can grant the mistrial and I won’t even object.”
“But I might,” Elias added.
“Four more questions?” Sherman asked derisively. “Four more of these ‘When did you s
top beating your wife?’ questions without any evidence to back them up?”
Deegan thought it over for a second, her rage subsiding a little. “Four questions, Counsel. And they’d better be good.”
Landon took his time getting back to his counsel table, formulating the precise wording for the questions.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Elias said under his breath.
Landon waited until everyone was in place, then walked to the well of the courtroom. He waited a few beats. The eyes of the jurors and the entire gallery were glued to him. Sherman was leaning forward, ready to object. The witness was staring him down. And Elias King, a man with way more jury experience than Landon, had his freedom hanging in the balance.
This was, Landon thought, the reason he had sacrificed everything to become a lawyer.
“Do you own a cell phone?”
“Of course.”
“Did you leave your cell phone with the deputies at the metal detector when you came upstairs pursuant to our subpoena to testify?”
Phoenix blinked. He knew, even before Landon asked the next question, where this was headed. His arrogant defiance turned to a flicker of panic. “Yes.”
“Did you know that Detective Freeman, from the Virginia Beach Police Department, had obtained a warrant to search your phone?” He pointed at Freeman. “That’s her, right there.”
“Of course I didn’t know that.”
And here it was, Landon thought. Question number four.
“Would you care to explain why you received a text message seconds after the shootings right outside this courthouse yesterday with the words Mission status—targets hit but survived?”
The question itself generated another stir that spread like a shock wave through the courtroom. In law school, Landon had been taught that there were some questions so damaging it didn’t matter how the witness answered. And he knew, beyond any doubt, that he had just asked one of them.
