Hostile Witness

“That’s right.”

“Good champagne, right? The best.”

“I don’t remember the quality of the champagne.”

“And the councilman paid for everything, isn’t that right?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, you didn’t pay, did you, Reverend?”

“No, sir. The pulpit is not a place for prosperity.”

“Are you aware, Reverend, that the councilman met Miss Ashland, his mistress, at a crack house?”

Prescott leaped again to his feet as the murmuring rose. “I object, Your Honor. This is pure slander.”

“Mr. Carl,” said the judge, “is there a good faith basis for that question?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Proceed.”

“Answer the question, Reverend. Were you aware of that?”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Are you aware that the councilman has put Miss Ashland up in a luxury apartment in Olde City with a sweetheart lease at far below market value?”

“No, sir.”

“Are you aware that during this trial he has slipped up to that apartment numerous times to visit late into the night with his mistress, Veronica Ashland?”

“No, sir, I was not.”

“Now, sir, adultery is against God’s law, is it not?”

“Yes. That is one of the Ten Commandments handed down to Moses on Mt. Sinai.”

“One of the big ten of God’s laws, isn’t that right?”

“You could say that it is one of the big ten, yes.”

“Like the prohibition against bearing false witness.”

“Yes.”

“And the Sixth Commandment is also one of the big ten, isn’t that right?”

“Yes sir, it is right there in Exodus, chapter 20, verse 13. ‘Thou shalt not murder.’”

“And someone who has so easily violated one of the Ten Commandments might just as easily violate another.”

“I can’t say that for certain.”

“But all of God’s laws are equally vital. I mean, you don’t preach it’s okay to violate some of the Ten Commandments and not others. You don’t preach, go ahead and steal, just don’t take the Lord’s name in vain, now do you?”

“No, sir, it is all God’s law.”

“And both adultery and murder, along with being against God’s law, are also against the secular law, isn’t that so?”

“I am not a lawyer, sir.”

“Good for you, Reverend, that puts you one up on the rest of us here. I have no further questions.”

As I walked back to my seat I had a panoramic view of the defense table. Chester was sitting calmly, his hands clasped before him on the table, looking straight so as to avoid Jimmy’s stare. Jimmy’s face was dark with anger, his facial muscles moving like stung slugs beneath his skin. Prescott was in a desperate conference with two of his associates.

The battle had been joined.

Just before I sat down I noticed someone leaving the courtroom. It was Moore’s wife, Leslie, head high, posture erect, rushing out of there as fast as she could go.

46

THE FISTFIGHT STARTED in the men’s room before spilling into the hallway. U.S. marshals, stiff and heavy, ears plugged, blazers flapping, lumbered over to break it up, but the ferocity of the combatants kept them at bay. Jimmy Moore had hold of Chet Conca

After the judge had dismissed the jury early for the day, once again admonishing them not to read the newspapers, and after he issued contempt citations, fining Chester and Jimmy each five hundred dollars and threatening both with jail if anything like that happened again for the rest of the trial, and after the bloodied Chester Conca

“Your client has been fired from the councilman’s staff,” said Prescott.

“Evidently,” I said. “But it was only a matter of time.”

“That’s right,” said Prescott. “Only for as long as the loyalty shown by my client to a subordinate would continue to impress the jury and keep Conca

“You mean the one you had promised repeatedly to send me but never did?”

“Precisely. It is what Chester told Jimmy before their little burlesque broke out. How did he get a copy of it, hmmm? Do you know?”

“I gave it to him.”

“How did you get it, Victor?”

I shrugged. “I have my sources, Billy.”

He put his arm around my shoulders and squeezed hard enough for me to hear a crack. Looking the other way he said, “Don’t call me Billy again or I’ll snap you in two. There was a break-in at my office last night. Nothing was missing except that report. I requested the entire office be dusted for fingerprints. You wouldn’t mind giving us a sample of yours, would you?”

“I would, actually,” I said. “On principle, you understand.”

He let go of me. Like an injured ballplayer, I restrained from rubbing my shoulder.

Prescott said, “You really stepped in it today, Victor.”

“The day I stepped in it was that first afternoon when I walked into your office.”

“I would have thought you’d be grateful,” he said. “You were a nothing and I gave you the opportunity to be a something.”

“The opportunity to play your dupe.”

“Really now, Victor. What other role could you play? I’m very disappointed in you.”

“I am crushed,” I said.

“Yes, that’s right. I am going to crush you. You know of course that CUP is very dissatisfied with your personal attack on their chairman.”

“I assumed they would be.”

“They’ve forbidden Blaine, Cox to even think of hiring you.”

“I don’t need their stinking job,” I said with my best bandito accent, but it came out wrong, like a whine.

“And of course they’ll dispute your fees now.”

“I’ll get paid. I’m a lawyer. I’ll sue them if I don’t get paid. That’s what lawyers do.”

“Any judge will see the conflict of interest. How could you have expected CUP to pay for Conca

“Good luck to them finding it. I’ve got nothing but debts.”

“Yes, we know. But still, judgments can be inconvenient things.”

I thought of Winston Osbourne and his sad overgrown fingernails. My eyes were involuntarily watering now. It was one thing to anticipate the firestorm, it was another to be in the middle of it. I turned away from him so he wouldn’t see tears. Across the steps I saw Chuckie Lamb staring at us, something strange and open in his face. He saw me looking at him and he smiled as Prescott dressed me down, but it must have been an off day for Chuckie because the normal quantum of malice in his smile was missing.

“The Bishop brothers have already begun to look for other counsel on the Valley Hunt Estates deal,” continued Prescott. “And my clients in the Saltz case have withdrawn their offer. Permanently. Trial is scheduled in two weeks.”

“We’ll be ready.”

“Ready to lose. You have stepped in it today, my friend, yes you have. Eye deep.”

He started walking down the steps, away from me, and then he stopped and turned. “After today, Victor, your career is dead. Gone. It has sunk from the weight of your foolishness. After today you might just as well go back to living in that crumbling house with that bitter old man, spending your days cutting lawns.”