This is a decision I always make myself, with equal amounts logic and gut instinct. Both are telling me that Kenny should not go near that stand, that the benefits of the “pact” story and Kenny’s appealing demeanor will be outweighed by the negative of cross-examination. I don’t want to give Dylan a chance to take Kenny through the facts of this case, most of which are incriminating. And I sure don’t want Kenny up there talking about how he held off the police at gunpoint while Troy Preston’s body was stuffed in his bedroom closet.
Kevin leaves, and I start thinking about my closing statement. Like my opening statement, I don’t write it out, rarely even take notes, because I want it to be as spontaneous as possible. But there are points I want to be sure I cover, so I start mentally ticking them off.
Laurie comes into the den and asks if I want something to eat. I don’t, and I’m about to tell her so when the phone rings. She picks it up. “Hello.”
She listens for a few seconds and then says a tentative “Hi.” Since the initial “Hello” should have covered the greeting part of her conversation, and since I can hear a tension in her voice, I immediately know that this is a charged phone call.
The rest of the call is peppered with clever Laurie-phrases like “I see,” “I will,” and “Of course.” Laurie sneaks glances over at me to see if I’m paying attention to her, so I try to pretend that I’m not, though of course she knows I am.
She throws in a final “I will,” and then hangs up. She looks over at me, and I say, “Wrong number?”
She smiles slightly, as if caught, and says, “That was Sandy. They’re pressuring him to pressure me for an answer.”
“You said ‘I will’ twice. Was that as in ‘I will move back to Findlay,’ or as in ‘I will never leave the love of my life, Andy Carpenter’?” I’m trying to make my tone sound flip, which is tough considering I’m so nervous I can’t unclench my teeth.
“It was as in ‘I will have an answer by next week,’” she says.
“You don’t know what you’re going to do yet?” I ask.
“Andy, you will know the moment I do.” She comes over and sits next to me, putting her hand on my knee. “And I’m sorry to put you through this… it’s just very hard for me. I’m finding this so terribly difficult.”
“Join the club,” I say.
Laurie leaves me to work on my closing statement, not the easiest thing to do under these circumstances. Tara lays her head on my knee, in the same place where Laurie’s hand had just been. “You’re going to stay with me, right?” I say to her. “I’m prepared to guarantee you biscuits for life if you do.”
She snuggles against me. Just what I like, a woman who can be bought.
THE MOMENT COURT is called to order, I announce that we are resting our case. Harrison asks Dylan if he would like to adjourn until after lunch to prepare his closing argument, but Dylan’s preference is not to wait. He clearly had correctly predicted I would not let Kenny take the stand, and is fully prepared.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Dylan begins, “when I stood before you at the start of this trial, I told you that Mr. Carpenter would invent theories and attempt to confuse you with irrelevancies. I told you that you should keep your eyes on the evidence and not let his sleight of hand fool you. But I’ve got to be honest, I had no idea how far he would go with it.
“Think about it. None of it had anything to do with the facts. Those facts haven’t changed, haven’t even been challenged. Kenny Schilling was seen leaving the bar with Troy Preston shortly before he was killed. Mr. Preston’s blood was found in Schilling’s abandoned car. His body was found in a closet in Schilling’s house.
“But we hear that Mr. Schilling was somehow framed; that he’s innocent, pure as the driven snow. So how did this innocent man act when the police arrived? He shot at them and barricaded himself in his house.” Dylan shakes his head sadly. “Amazing.
“Now, Mr. Carpenter is a very clever lawyer, but when confronted with these facts, he acted like a man in a trap. First he tried to get out of that trap by