Stritch’s kind tone was belied by the light in his eyes. “Mr. Granger, you’ve said that Ms. Ackerman appears in the video again?”
Kirby nodded.
“You need to answer out loud, Mr. Granger.”
“Yes.” Kirby’s voice was a croak. “Yes, she does.”
“When?”
“Sunrise.”
Stritch didn't say anything then. Instead, he hunched over his laptop and switched the video to a black screen that I knew was the camera view of the water. The picture stayed black, the time stamp running in the bottom corner the only indication that the video was fast-forwarding. Then the picture began to lighten and T. Marvin paused the video again.
“Show us where Mr. Granger,” he said and handed Kirby a laser pointer.
All eyes followed him as Kirby fumbled with the button, found the one that created the red dot of light, and put it on the screen.
We didn’t need the laser pointer, but Kirby circled anyway, just to the left of the cement pad that was at the bottom of the abandoned stairs directly across the water. An arm with fingertips dangling in the water. A twisted body. A toe of a boot just visible over the rocks.
Stritch hit play. The Quarry grew lighter. Abby’s body became clearer.
“Can you identify who that is?”
“It's Abby,” Kirby said quietly and looked away.
“Is that where she was found the morning after the concert?”
“Yes.”
“Did you watch the rest of this video?”
“Yes.”
“Does she ever move?”
“No.”
“Thank you, Mr. Granger. That's all the questions that I have.”
With well-practiced modesty, Stritch took a seat. He left the frozen video of Abby on the screen.
35
I stood and pointed at the video. “Do you mind?”
“Oh, of course not,” said Stritch. “My apologies.” He fumbled around, longer than was necessary, then turned it off.
I smiled. “Thanks.” I turned to Kirby. “Mr. Granger, just so the jury is clear, we know each other, don't we?”
“Sure, Nate,” said Kirby. “Uhm, I mean, Mr. Shepherd.”
“We met about fourteen or fifteen years ago when we both worked at the Quarry, correct?”
“We did.”
“This camera system was installed about ten years ago, right?”
“That's right.”
“By that time, the twelve o'clock stairs were no longer in use by the public, were they?”
“They were not.”
“They were just used for maintenance, right?”
“That's right.”
“There are no cameras that record what happens at the top of the twelve o'clock stairs, are there?”
He shook his head. “There are not.”
“It's also dark there, isn't it?”
Kirby looked uncomfortable. “At night, sure.”
“The lights don't reach there, do they?”
“Not really.”
“Now Mr. Granger, you, personally, did not see Archie Mack interact with Abby Ackerman, did you?”
“You mean see them together?”
“That’s exactly what I mean.”
“I didn’t.”
“You didn't see them talk to each other, did you?”
“No.”
“And you certainly didn't see Archie put his hands on Ms. Ackerman, did you?”
“I didn’t.”
“Now, you mentioned that you watched the whole rest of the video, though, right?”
“I did.”
“There's no video of Archie Mack putting his hands on Ms. Ackerman, is there?”
“Not that I've seen.”
“There is no video where Archie Mack and Abby Ackerman appear at the same time, is there?”
“No.”
“So the jury is clear, Mr. Granger, Archie Mack and Abby Ackerman never appear on the video at the same time, do they?”
“Not that I’ve seen, no.”
“Instead, the only video we have is of them passing the Quarry’s cameras at different times, true?”
“That's true.”
“Mr. Granger, there is video of you leaving the Quarry that night, isn't there?”
Kirby nodded. “There is.”
“You left about one a.m.?”
“I did. A little after.”
“Danny could you cue up the video, please?” Danny clicked a few times on the laptop and video marked with military time as ‘0046’ appeared on the screen for the jury. “Go ahead and let it run, Danny.”
The video began to move. “That’s you at the front gate, right, Mr. Granger?”
“That’s right.”
“There you are locking it?”
“I am.”
“It's your job to make sure the facility is secure?”
“It is.”
“Now, here you're going to the concession area?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re pulling down the gate to the concession window and locking the door?”
“I am.”
The video continued to roll.
“You are locking up the bathrooms here?”
“I am.”
“And it looks like you’re checking inside each one before you do?”
“I am.”
“And that is to make sure no one is in it?”
“That's right. I wouldn't want to lock someone in.”
“That's never happened has it?”
“No. Because I always check.”
“And now you're doing the same with changing rooms?”
“Yes.”
“Looking inside, checking, and then locking up?”
“That's right.”
“Are you pretty thorough about going through this routine to make sure everything is secure?”
“I try to be, yes.”
The video showed Kirby locking the last of the doors, checking his keys, and putting them in his pocket. Then, when he was right at the edge of the screen of the concession camera, I said, “Pause it there please, Danny.”
The frame froze. “Were you done for the night now, Mr. Granger?”
“Just about. I had to lock up the back gate on the way out.”
“And that's where you're going now, to the back gate?”
“That's right.”
“Because the back lot is typically where employees park, correct?”
“That's right. We also used it as overflow parking on a night like this.”
I nodded. “Okay, Danny, let it run again.” The video showed Kirby pause at the edge of the screen and walk back into frame where he bent over and picked up a pop can.
“What are you doing there, Mr. Granger?”
“Picking up some garbage.”
“So even though you're getting ready to leave, you were still inspecting the facility and the things in it?”
“I was.”
“You cared enough to pick up that can?”
Kirby shrugged. “I like the Quarry to be clean.”
The video showed Kirby dropping the can into a garbage bin before he kept going and left the frame.
“You can pause it there, please, Danny. Mr. Granger, did you walk directly to the back gate?”
“I believe I did.”
“You don't believe you paused along the way?”
“I don't think so.”
“Mr. Granger, I know this upset you earlier, but I have to ask. You were inspecting the Quarry as you left that night, right?”
“I was.”
“You were looking for people in the bathrooms?”
“Yes.”
“You were looking for people in the changing rooms?”
“I was.”
“You were picking up things as small as pop cans if they were left out?”
“I was.”
“It’s dark on the path to the back lot, isn’t it?”
“In spots
, yes.”
“One of those dark spots is the abandoned stairs, right?”
“Yes.”
“It’s dark there, isn’t it?”
“It is.”
“And you, as careful and conscientious as you are, didn’t see anything when you walked past the abandoned stairs that night, did you?”
“I didn’t.”
“You didn’t see Abby Ackerman, did you?”
“I didn’t.”
“You didn’t see any sign that anything had happened near the stairs that night, did you?”
“I didn’t.”
“You didn’t see any indication that there had been an accident, did you?”
“I did not.”
“You didn’t see any sign, at all, that Abby Ackerman was at the bottom of those stairs lying in distress, did you?”
Kirby’s eyes welled up. “No.”
“Mr. Granger, Abby worked at the Quarry some years ago as well, didn’t she?”
“She did.”
“You worked there at the same time?”
“I did.”
“You consider her to be a good friend?”
Kirby nodded. “I do.”
“If you had seen the slightest indication that Abby was there or that she was hurt or that there was anything wrong at all, you would have investigated, wouldn’t you?”
“Of course.”
“But the fact was that there, in the dark that night, you didn’t see anything that let you know Abby was hurt, did you?”
“No. No, I didn’t.”
“It wasn’t until the next day, in daylight, that Abby was discovered, true?”
“That’s true.”
“That’s all I have Mr. Granger, thanks.”
T. Marvin Stritch stood. “Mr. Granger you became emotional a little while ago when you talked about not finding Ms. Ackerman, didn't you?”
Kirby nodded. “I did.”
“That's because the thought of her lying there all night torments you, doesn't it?”
Kirby looked like he might well up again. “It does.”
“And the sight of her lying among the rocks? On the video?”
“Yes.”
“Could you imagine leaving her down there?”
“No. Not at all.”
“That's all, Mr. Granger. Thank you.”
I stood. “Mr. Granger, you left Abby in the dark by the water forty feet below you because you couldn't see her as you passed, correct?”
“That's right.”
“And because you couldn’t hear her?”
“That’s true.”
“And because when you passed the stairway, you could see no sign that Ms. Ackerman had ever been there, could you?”
“That's right.”
“No further questions.”
Judge Wesley said, “Mr. Granger, you may step down. Members of the jury, it's almost four-thirty, so we’ll wrap it up for the day. Please don't discuss this case with each other or with anyone in your home. We will get going again tomorrow promptly at eight-thirty.”
Judge Wesley hit the gavel and we all stood as the jury filed out. As soon as they had left, Judge Wesley retired to her chambers.
I turned to Archie. “You doing okay?”
He didn’t look it as he said, “Can I go see Bonnie?” Because Bonnie was going to testify, she wasn’t allowed in the courtroom for now. Archie clearly needed some support.
“Go ahead. Be here tomorrow at eight.”
Archie nodded left.
I got T. Marvin Stritch's attention as he was gathering his things. “Who's up tomorrow?” I said.
Stritch appeared to consider it before he shrugged. “Hamish Mack and Sheriff Dushane,” he said. “Not sure if we’ll get any farther than that.”
I nodded. “Thanks.”
He nodded back and continued to gather his things.
I went back to Danny, who was doing the same thing. “Hamish and Dushane tomorrow,” I said.
He nodded. “Okay.”
I had known Danny long enough to know something was on his mind. “What is it?”
“Nothing.”
I smiled. “It's okay to disagree, Danny. We have to be able to tell each other what we think.”
He nodded. “I think that you really exposed us by challenging Stritch to produce evidence of physical contact and motive.”
“I did. But it’s a weakness in their case and, if they can produce it, we’re in pretty big trouble anyway.”
“It just sort of seems like we invited it.”
“We'll see.”
He frowned. “I hope not.”
Mr. and Mrs. Mack had been sitting in the middle row of the gallery all day. They waited patiently for me to wrap things up before they came forward.
“What a nice man that Mr. Granger was,” said Mrs. Mack. “He was so upset.”
“He feels like he let her down, even though he didn't.”
“He didn’t see Abby the same as Archie didn’t,” said Mr. Mack.
I nodded. I hoped the jury felt the same way. “Hamish is testifying tomorrow.”
They exchanged a glance. “Well, I’m sure it’ll all come out fine.”
I nodded and thought, not in a million years. “Okay. See you tomorrow.”
Mr. and Mrs. Mack filed out. After they were gone, I gathered our things and we left.
The Ash County Courthouse has a bunch of narrow corridors and sharp corners, a byproduct of a 1960s addition to a 1920s courthouse. As Danny and I rounded the corner, Olivia was waiting for us by the stairs.
She was wearing a black suit with a white shirt. She seemed a little taller to me before I realized I rarely saw her in heels. She ran a hand through her spiky white hair and pulled it down around the left lens of her glasses the way she always did.
“I thought I saw you back there,” I said. “You attending this one?”
She nodded. “You need anything?”
I shook my head. “We’re good tonight.”
“Okay, let me know.” She turned and started down the stairs. She made it down three before she turned to where Danny and I still stood at the top. “You coming?”
Danny looked at me and held out the brief cases he held in each hand.
“And?” she said.
I laughed. “You’ll have to excuse Danny. He doesn't know the depths of your psychosis yet.”
“Don’t listen to him, Danny,” said Olivia. “It’s a training opportunity.”
We followed her down the stairs and left.
36
Hamish Mack took the stand first thing in the morning. His red hair was combed neatly and, although it had been a good month since there had been warm sun of any kind, he still had the faintest traces of a tan line running across his face, just like his brother. The similarities didn’t end there—he wore a boxy blue suit similar in style and cut to the one Archie had on and it was clear that they’d both gone to the same place. Hamish showed none of Kirby’s reluctance—he strode straight to the stand and planted himself.
When he was settled, T. Marvin Stritch said, “Could you state your name please?”
“Hamish Mack.”
“You're the brother of the defendant, Archibald Mack?”
“I am.”
“And Abby Ackerman is your fiancée?”
“She is.”
“Is it difficult for you to be here today, Mr. Mack?”
He looked past T. Marvin Stritch at his parents. “In some ways,” he said. He scowled at Archie. “Not in others.”
“I would normally call you Mr. Mack, but to avoid confusion, do you mind if I call you Hamish?”
“Not at all.”
“Hamish, how long have you and Abby Ackerman been together?”
“About four years.”
“That's a long time.”
“It is. It's hard to find someone who understands farming the way Abby does.”
“You knew that Ms. Ackerman was going to the Big Luke concert
with her friends the night that she was attacked?”
“I did. She was very excited.”
“Did you have plans to go to the concert?”
“Not until the last minute. But then the day of, I got a call from an acquaintance who asked if I'd like to go. So I went.”
“Who is that acquaintance?”
“Will Wellington.”
I thought that acquaintance was an interesting way to put it.
“Why did he ask you to go?”
“You’d have to ask him, but I got the impression he had the tickets from his business and wanted to use them.” Hamish smiled. “Since it was the day of, I'm sure I wasn’t his first choice.”
“So you decided to go?”
“I did.”
“Did you tell Abby?”
“Before the concert? No. I didn't want to make her feel guilty about going with her friends.”
“I see. So you went.”
“I did.”
“Was it just you and Will?”
“No, he asked a few others. I think there were seven of us altogether.”
“Did you know the others?”
“No, but we were all farmers so we had a lot in common and talked some before the concert.”
“So you stayed for the entire concert?”
“I did.”
“And what happened after?”
“I thanked Will for the tickets and the drinks and walked back to my car.”
“And where were you parked, Hamish?”
“In the back lot. Abby had worked at the Quarry some years ago and had told me about the employee lot. She’d said it was a lot easier to get in and out during big events, so I parked there.”
“What happened next?”
“Well, I was partway back when I heard someone call my name. I stopped and turned and saw that it was Abby.”
“I see. And then what happened?”
Hamish looked at the floor.
“Hamish?” said T. Marvin Stritch.
“We argued,” said Hamish.
“About what?”
Hamish sighed. “Going to the concert.”
“What do you mean?”
“That I went without telling her, I suppose.”
“What happened next?”
“She yelled at me, I yelled at her, and I left.”
“Why did you leave?”
“Because the concert was over and it seemed silly to be mad about how we saw it.”
“Weren’t you concerned about leaving her alone at the Quarry?”
Blind Conviction (Nate Shepherd Legal Thriller Series Book 3) Page 20
