Open and Shut - By David Rosenfelt Page 0,67
question of accurately judging the defendant's guilt or innocence. To me the verdict is right if both sides are well represented and get their fair day in court.”
“You might feel differently if you were wrongly convicted,” he says. “Or if someone you loved was murdered, and the guilty man went free.”
“I might, but I would be thinking about myself, and not about society. Society needs this system. Look, you're a terrific lawyer, and if you had a hundred cases, maybe you'd get a few guilty people off. But what if you didn't take those cases? A good portion of them would get lesser attorneys, and some of the innocent ones might be convicted.”
He smiles. “But none of them would be on my conscience.”
“Didn't they tell you to leave your conscience in a locker at law school?”
We're not going to resolve his doubts tonight; they've been hounding him for too long. But I think, make that hope, that we've taken a step. Kevin is a hell of a lawyer, and an even better person.
I invite Kevin to go to the fund-raiser at Philip's, but he begs off, since he has to go to the Laundromat and empty the quarters from the machines.
I drive out to Philip's estate in Alpine. He has eleven acres of prime real estate in the most expensive area of New Jersey, all magnificently landscaped and including a huge swimming pool, tennis court, putting green, and, believe it or not, a helicopter pad.
There is also an extraordinary three-bedroom guest house, about a hundred yards from the main one, that would qualify as a dream house to most families. Philip calls this “Nicole's place,” since he built it shortly before she was born, in the hope that she would someday move in.
In fact, back when Nicole and I were about to be married, Philip mounted a campaign to get us to live in this guest house. He correctly pointed out that it was considerably nicer than anything we could afford to buy, and promised that it was separate enough that we would have our privacy. After all, he reasoned, he was in Washington most of the time anyway.
My father cautioned me against accepting the offer, but I was smart enough on my own to turn it down. If we had moved into the guest house, Philip's dominance over us would have been total.
The party tonight is outdoors under the stars, in the area between the guest house and the pool. It is part of a concerted effort by Philip to actively help others in his party. Philip has used his prominent position as head of the crime subcommittee to get himself talked about as a possible vice presidential candidate in the next election, and he earns political markers by raising money for his colleagues.
I arrive, the only male in the entire place, including the staff, not in a tuxedo. Nicole comes over to me, not seeming to notice the fact that I'm underdressed, since I'm sure she is used to it. She takes my arm and leads me to hobnob with the rich, semifamous, and powerful.
We hobnob for about an hour, each minute more excruciatingly boring than the one before it. Finally, I can't stand it anymore, so I tell Nicole that I really need to get home and get some sleep. She seems disappointed, but understands. It hits me that she actually enjoys being here; this is where she is in her element. It's a scary thought.
THE EYEWITNESS, CATHY PEARL, HAS BEEN A single mother since she was eighteen, supporting her daughter by working until one A.M. each night in a run-down diner. That daughter, as Wallace lets her proudly reveal, has just won a scholarship to Cornell University. Cathy is the type of person that juries believe, and very definitely not the type of person they like to see dismantled on the stand.
Wallace takes her through her history, right up to the frightening moment when she saw Willie Miller standing over the bloody body of Denise McGregor.
“How did you happen to be in that alley that night, Ms. Pearl?”
“The diner I work at is on the next block. I cut through the alley on my way home from work. It saves about ten minutes, and at one o'clock in the morning, every minute counts.” Everybody, jury included, chuckles at this comment. Everybody except me.
“Please describe what you saw.”
She proceeds to describe the scene in graphic, stark terms. She saw Willie standing over the body, and he saw