Page 107 of The Best Lawyer
“What?”
“When you were on the stand a few days ago. I specifically asked you to describe what was on the handle of the knife. Do you recall that?”
“I guess. You asked me a lot of things.”
“That’s right,” I said, glancing back at the courtroom doors.Come on, Eric!“Do you remember how you answered that question?”
“About the knife?”
I went to my notes. Emma had printed out one page from the trial transcript last week. “When asked to describe what was on the knife, what did you say? Your exact words.”
“I have no idea what my exact words were,” she said. “But the knife has letters on it.”
“Letters,” I said. “That isn’t what you said. Would you please read the transcript of your earlier testimony? I’ve highlighted the relevant portion. May I approach?”
Scowling, Judge Castor motioned me forward.
Jenna took the paper from me; her hands were shaking almost uncontrollably. She read it.
“I said initials,” she answered.
“Initials. Not letters. You said they were initials.”
“Your Honor,” Quick stood up. “I’ve had about enough of this.”
At that point, the courtroom doors opened. Eric couldn’t have timed it better. I kept my back to Jenna. I brandished the knife so that the jury could see it. So Eric’s companion could see it. Eric gave me a quick nod. Then he shoved A.C. Dover sideways, forcing him into a seat.
Realization spread over A.C.’s face as he saw the knife. I turned to Jenna. Her eyes were locked on A.C.
“What are theinitialson that knife, Ms. Rodney?”
“X. Y. Z.,” she said, her voice cracking.
“X. Y. Z.,” I repeated. “So again. Please tell me if you know Mr. Dover’s grandfather’s name.”
“I don’t … I don’t know.”
“You don’t know,” I said. “Have you ever seen this before?”
I placed a copy of Xavier Zeller’s obituary on Quick’s table. I brought another copy for Jenna.
She read it. I saw her tears.
“You’ve met Mr. Dover’s family?” I asked.
“Some of them, yes,” she said.
“His siblings?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“His mother?” I asked.
“Are there names listed on that paper in front of you? His siblings. His mother.”
“Yes,” she said.
“What are you looking at, Ms. Rodney?”
