insinuate that Jeffries might have smashed Felton’s head in for whatever reason, we are on the road toward establishing a hypothesis that Jeffries took Felton’s gun to frame you. He was as angry at you at that point as he was at Felton.”
“Two things,” Jack said. “I don’t want to do it because we don’t have any direct evidence to support that theory and I don’t want to ruin whatever life that man has left. Second, it’s a bad strategy, Tom. It makes us look desperate.”
“Mr. Wylie, are you ready to proceed?” Judge Holbrook asked.
Tom stood up. “Yes, Your Honor. I have no further questions.”
When Tom finished cross-examining the coroner, it was close to five o’clock and the judge adjourned the proceedings for the day.
The stage was set for the testimony of Sam Jeffries.
Chapter Sixty
Tom went directly from the courthouse to the jail to see Jack. He had to wait while Jack shed his courtroom attire for his prison attire: a yellow jumpsuit. Jack was lying on his bed with his back propped up against the wall and his hands behind his head when Tom walked into the cell.
“You look awfully relaxed,” Tom said.
“I’m confident. I’ve got a good lawyer, and besides, worrying gets you nowhere. It was a decent day today.”
“I think so,” Tom said. “The cops didn’t hurt us and neither did the coroner. You were right, by the way, about that last question. It would have made us look desperate.”
“That’s the benefit of having two lawyers on the case. The one that’s watching can stop the other from going too far.”
Tom sat on the bed opposite Jack.
“I’m with you so far, Jack, but Merton has made Sam Jeffries both the victim and the chief witness in this case. We need to take a bite out of Jeffries’s hide if you want to walk out of here.”
“I’m not opposed to that. I’m opposed to floating theories that we have no evidence to support. I’m opposed to ruining a good man’s character.”
“A good man? This guy wants to send you to the death chamber!”
“I know you believe that—and I believe it as well—but we can’t prove it. Besides, Sam Jeffries is a good man. His mind is warped because he lost his wife and then his daughter to a man I helped set free.”
“Jesus, Jack, I can fight the prosecutor, but I can’t fight your conscience at the same time.”
“I’m not asking you to. I just want you to play it straight—no intimation that Sam hid the gun or bashed Felton’s head in, unless we get evidence to support it.”
“All right. It’s your funeral.”
It was overcast and rainy on Thursday morning as Tom walked to the courthouse. The weather didn’t deter the crowds though. People were everywhere and for the first time, there were signs. Merton had struck a chord when he made Sam Jeffries his victim. The signs made that clear.
“Let’s Get a Little Justice for Sam,” one read. “Kathleen, You Are Not Forgotten,” read another.
I’ve got to be careful with Jeffries, Tom thought to himself. The jurors have the same sentiments as these people.
News stations had set up kiosks across from the courthouse, and the reporters practically stampeded toward Tom as he made his way to the courthouse steps. This was not a day to linger outside, however.
“No comment,” Tom said as he pushed through the crowd.
“Your boy is going down,” someone in the crowd shouted. Tom didn’t even look up.
Inside the courtroom, the rain added to the cacophony of sounds. The doors had not yet opened for the crowds. The ceiling fans, the air conditioners, and the rain held court, so to speak. Merton was sitting at his table closest to the jury, writing on his yellow pad. A pretty brunette female attorney from his office sat next to him looking totally bored. Merton had brought her along but he hadn’t given her anything to do.
One of the bailiffs saw Tom and immediately exited the room, returning a few minutes later with Jack and two more guards in tow. Jack wore a charcoal-gray suit. Tom was in navy blue. If looks could win, they were the winners hands down.
“All set?” Tom asked.
“I guess so.”
The crowds started in a few minutes later, chatting away, adding to the symphony of sounds. The bailiffs squeezed them in, making sure every potential seat was occupied. The first two rows were saved for the press. When everybody was seated, the bailiff knocked on the door to the judge’s chambers. Moments later