Unintended Consequences - By Marti Green Page 0,25

innocence, they walked away. Dani had never faced arguing on behalf of someone whose innocence she doubted. Defense attorneys were a different breed. Some were true idealists who viewed themselves as crusaders upholding the sacred tenet that everyone had a right to counsel; others started out as prosecutors and used the skills they learned to open a practice defending accused criminals. And a few—a very few, she hoped—just wanted to get through the day earning a buck. Wilson struck her as one of those.

“Isn’t it surprising for a guilty man to risk trial when his life is on the line?”

“Not in my experience. Some of these criminals are so deluded they convince themselves they didn’t do the crime, even when they’re caught red-handed.”

Dani flashed back to a three-year-old Jonah, standing on a chair, his hand holding a cookie he’d just retrieved from the kitchen cabinet. “Jonah no take cookie,” he’d said when confronted by his mother, a look of total innocence on his face. Dani appreciated that Wilson’s assessment of some criminals was true. She switched to another line of questions. “You didn’t cross-examine Sallie for very long. How come?”

“I could see the jurors were believing her. A lot more than they were going to believe George. No sense in giving her more time to get their sympathy.”

“But still, you could have tried to impeach her. The state didn’t have any forensic evidence tying George to the victim, only Sallie’s testimony.”

“You forget the gas-station attendant.”

“His testimony was questionable at best. And you did a good job showing that to the jury.”

Wilson chuckled. “Look, don’t waste your time trying to butter me up. It’s no secret you’ll argue ineffective counsel. My feelings won’t be hurt. I doubt it’ll get George a new trial, but you go ahead and try.”

Whether HIPP would even take the case was still to be decided. Even if Dani believed George’s claim of innocence, she would have to evaluate her chance of succeeding. Wilson was right—getting a new trial this close to a scheduled execution would be tough.

They talked some more, going over details of the trial and the appeals. Dani thanked Wilson for his help and gathered her notes to leave. On her way out the door, she turned back to him. “And you’re certain neither George nor Sallie ever explained what happened to their daughter, to Angelina?”

Wilson closed his eyes and rubbed them with balled-up fists. When he opened his eyes, they looked tired, worn out by years of eking out a living representing society’s outcasts. “Not once before trial. Not even during the appeals. Only later, much later, about five or six years ago—I think maybe when I worked on his last grab to the Supreme Court—George wrote me. Made up some cockeyed story about his daughter being sick and then rambled on about no one helping her. It was bunk—a desperate grab at reversing his fate. I threw the letter away.”

The shock on Dani’s face must have been apparent. “You didn’t follow up on his letter?”

“What for? Some prisoner probably helped him come up with the story. You wouldn’t believe how creative they get in there. Liars, all of them. There was no point in wasting my time anymore.”

“But what if it was true?”

“Then he would have told me when it mattered.”

Wilson may not have been a bad attorney. He was certainly not a stupid attorney. Dani didn’t really know him, but she guessed he wasn’t even a lazy attorney. Plenty of all three types were defending clients in courts all over the United States. Wilson’s problem was not being paid enough by a client he believed was guilty—a toxic combination for a defendant facing the death penalty.

CHAPTER

9

Tommy kept the speedometer at just under fifteen miles over the speed limit. He knew from experience it was the safety zone, the gap between the speed posted as the maximum and the point at which he might be ticketed if he had the bad luck to pass a traffic cop. He arrived at the Hammond police station in just under two hours, and Hank Cannon was waiting for him.

“I don’t know that there’s much more I can tell you,” Cannon said. “I pretty much covered it on the phone yesterday.”

“Well, I don’t expect to come away with anything more by coming here. But our interview with Calhoun has been pushed back a day and I never had the patience to sit on my ass, so I figured if nothing else, I’ll get to meet Jimmy’s