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She spent as much time as possible at Sing Sing, looking over the scene of the killing in the recreation yard, talking to guards and Abraham, and she interviewed dozens of convicts who had witnessed the killing.
“Raymond Thorpe attacked Abraham Wilson with a knife,” Je
“Me? I didn’t see no knife.”
“You must have. You were right there.”
“Lady, I didn’t see nothin’.”
Not one of them was willing to get involved.
Occasionally Je
Ken Bailey was becoming concerned about her. He took her to Forlini’s across from the courthouse, and ordered a large lunch for her.
“Are you trying to kill yourself?” he demanded.
“Of course not.”
“Have you looked in a mirror lately?”
“No.”
He studied her and said, “If you have any sense, you’ll drop this case.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re setting yourself up as a clay pigeon. Je
“I’m an attorney,” Je
“It isn’t, huh? Do you know who’s prosecuting?”
“No.”
“Robert Di Silva.”
Je
It had taken Je
There was an odd feeling of reliving the past as she got off at the sixth floor and walked toward the familiar door marked District Attorney, County of New York. Inside, the same secretary was seated at the same desk.
“I’m Je
“Go right in,” the secretary said. “The District Attorney is expecting you.”
Robert Di Silva was standing behind his desk, chewing on a wet cigar, giving orders to two assistants. He stopped as Je
“I was betting you wouldn’t show up.”
“I’m here.”
“I thought you would have turned tail and run out of town by now. What do you want?”
There were two chairs opposite Robert Di Silva’s desk, but he did not invite Je
“I came here to talk about my client, Abraham Wilson.”
Robert Di Silva sat down, leaned back in his chair and pretended to think. “Abraham Wilson…oh, yes. That’s the nigger murderer who beat a man to death in prison. You shouldn’t have any trouble defending him.” He glanced at his two assistants and they left the room.
“Well, counselor?”
“I’d like to talk about a plea.”
Robert Di Silva looked at her with exaggerated surprise. “You mean you came in to make a deal? You amaze me. I would have thought that someone with your great legal talent would be able to get him off scot-free.”
“Mr. Di Silva, I know this looks like an open-and-shut case,” Je
District Attorney Di Silva interrupted. “Let me put it in legal language you can understand, counselor. You can take your extenuating circumstances and shove them up your ass!” He got to his feet and when he spoke his voice was trembling with rage. “Make a deal with you, lady? You fucked up my life! There’s a dead body and your boy’s going to burn for it. Do you hear me? I’m making it my personal business to see that he’s sent to the chair.”
“I came up here to withdraw from the case. You could reduce this to a manslaughter charge. Wilson’s already in for life. You could—”
“No way! He’s guilty of murder plain and simple!”
Je
Robert Di Silva smiled at her without mirth. “You don’t know how heartwarming it is to have an expert like you walk into my office and explain the law to me.”
“Can’t we forget our personal problems? I—”
“Not as long as I live. Say hello to your pal Michael Moretti for me.”
Half an hour later, Je
“I don’t know what to do,” Je
Ken Bailey looked at her thoughtfully. “Maybe he’s trying to psych you out. He wants you ru
“I am ru
“When does the trial come up?”
“In four weeks.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
“Uh-huh. Put out a contract on Di Silva.”
“Do you think there’s any chance you can get Wilson an acquittal?”
“Looking at it from the pessimist’s point of view, I’m trying my first case against the smartest District Attorney in the country, who has a vendetta against me, and my client is a convicted Black killer who killed again in front of a hundred and twenty witnesses.”
“Terrific. What’s the optimist’s point of view?”
“I could get hit by a truck this afternoon.”
The trial date was only three weeks away now. Je
No private cars were allowed on the island, and Je