Page 95 of The Devil's Advocate

She looked to the ceiling, blew out her cheeks and said, ‘I’m feeling the pressure on this one.’

We couldn’t use Farnesworth’s autopsy report because he wouldn’t testify. Kate and I had a plan to bring it in through a back door. It was risky, and the likelihood was it wouldn’t work. If it failed, Andy was sure to be convicted. This might give us a chance, but it was all falling on Kate.

‘We could ask for a recess until tomorrow, you know,’ I said. ‘If you don’t want to do this, I understand. It’s asking a lot—’

‘I can do it,’ she said.

‘I know you can. You’ve just got to put it out of your mind that this is a death-penalty case. I think that responsibility messes with some lawyer’s heads. Don’t let it get to yours. Just take it nice and easy.’

‘I’m from New Jersey, I don’t do nice and easy,’ she said.

‘Okay, then how do you want to handle Miss Price?’

Her finger rested on her lips for a moment while she thought about it, then Kate said, ‘I think I’ll put her skinny ass through the fuckin’ wall.’

CHAPTER FIFTY

KATE

Kate waited until the courtroom had settled down, but she didn’t need to wait for long. She felt that familiar tumbling sensation in her stomach right before she spoke in court for the first time in a case. That was okay. That was normal. She would be worried if she felt calm. She needed that nervous energy. She used it, made it into fire in her belly that she spewed at her opponents.

She stood, ready.

The jury had spent the best part of an hour in their room, talking over what they’d just heard and seen while Kate and Korn had argued with the judge over Eddie’s fate. The time the jury had alone was useful. Eddie had told them the DA and the judge were corrupt, and then he got arrested for saying it. They weren’t thinking about the DNA evidence, they weren’t thinking about the scratches on Andy’s back or the witness who saw Andy and Skylar together just before she disappeared.

They were talking about Eddie. And Korn, and the judge. And Kate knew she had to keep them on that subject.

‘Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I will be brief. It is the defendant’s case that he is being framed for this crime. That the evidence against him has been fabricated. He was an easy target for law enforcement who just wanted to make a quick arrest. He was an easy target for a district attorney to secure a conviction. We hope that you will not think of him as an easy target for execution. We will show that there are major problems with the evidence the district attorney seeks to use. All we ask you to do is keep your minds open. Mr. Korn stands before you today as a record holder. He has sent more men to death row than any other prosecutor in the history of the United States.’

Kate took a moment to pause and take the jury’s temperature. Some were disinterested, already with their arms folded, the shutters firmly closed. A few looked to Korn, and then back at Kate.

‘I don’t believe that Sunville County is more dangerous than any other place in America. I don’t think you believe that either. So why is it that this county sends more people to death row than any other? The statistics show us this was not the case before Mr. Korn became district attorney. Ask yourself, are you happy to be the death-penalty capital of the United States? Because today Andy Dubois is fighting for his life. And Mr. Korn wants you to take that life. There is more to this case than the murder of Skylar Edwards. Our case is that Skylar’s murderer is still out there, and an innocent man sits before you. One murder will not avenge another.’

One of the jurors sat up straighter, shifted his gaze to Korn and kept it there. He looked uncomfortable, as if a hot fire had just been lit beneath his seat. Kate remembered his name instantly – Taylor Avery.

She had more to say, but she saw that some of the jurors were at least beginning to think about this. And that was enough, for now. She thanked the jury and sat down.

‘Mr. Korn, would you like to call your first witness?’ said Judge Chandler.

‘Yes, Your Honor, the People call the county medical examiner, Miss Fiona Price.’

A tall woman rose from the gallery, made her way through the swing gate, past the prosecution and defense tables, and then stood at the entrance to the witness box. Everything about her was sharp, thought Kate. She wore a long black coat of fine material over a black, silk suit. Her dark red lips were like two uncut rubies encased in the alabaster cliff of her face. Either she wore very pale foundation, or her skin was completely without color, like virgin snow. Her hair was curly, short, and each lick bounced with the movement of her head. Kate didn’t like the look in her large, round eyes. There was little color in them, pale gray, with small hints of blue. Corpse eyes, with bright red veins snaking through them. Kate was almost surprised to see those eyes move. It was as if something dead had been reanimated.

A cold woman, who does cold work with the dead. Kate could think of nothing worse than dying and having Miss Price be your final guardian.

The clerk administered the oath.

Miss Price handed the Bible back to the clerk as if it was a hot coal. The displeasure of holding the book was clear, in the narrowing at the corner of her eyes and the pursing of her bloody lips, which now looked more like slices of liver.

Kate shuddered and wrote down Price’s name on her legal pad. She was taking this witness.

Korn quickly confirmed Price was the medical examiner for Sunville County, and that she had performed an autopsy and examination of the victim’s body.

She affirmed these questions with a simple, but authoritative, ‘Yes.’

The crowd was silent. Korn popped out routine questions and Price answered them with her loud, ‘yes,’ which increasing sounded like ice cracking. Kate felt gooseflesh on her arms. She put down her pen and rubbed at them. Even being around Miss Price made her flesh cold.

Harry leaned over, whispered to Kate, ‘For your first question, ask Miss Price what she knows about one hundred and one missing Dalmatians.’