by Anna Premoli
And then she burst into inconsolable sobs.
20
Judge Wyatt was ready for the worst. He was expecting that day to be long, slow and agonizing for him.
The hearing, after which he had to decide whether to proceed with a formal trial against Liz Stubbs or not, was scheduled for 10 a.m., and both parties took their seats at exactly one minute to ten. It was like watching the same play being performed all over again.
But this time, after a closer look, he realized that nothing was going according to the usual script.
Ms Berger looked absolutely washed out, like a rag that had been used to clean a whole house, and her big blue eyes were almost lost in the paleness of her face. The Assistant D.A. didn’t look to be in much better shape either: he might not be quite as pale as his opponent, but he still had deep dark circles under his eyes, which did nothing for him. If his wife had been there, she would have taken one look at Assistant D.A. O’Moore’s face and finally be forced to admit that no, green and violet didn’t go well together. Mrs Wyatt’s color sense was not great but even she would have been able to see that.
The judge adjusted his glasses so he could look at them more carefully. But even with his glasses perched properly on his nose, they still looked pretty seedy.
What the hell had happened to these two people over the last week? Had his last punishment been too much for them? But his doubts chased themselves away – nah, he’d done exactly the right thing: not even setting those two to plough the land for the whole weekend would have been enough of a punishment for them! People with degrees in law from Yale or Harvard always had this bad habit of thinking they could do what they liked, as though they were some sort of gods! And that was why cleaning out a few dog kennels had seemed to him to be perfect as a last task to follow the other brilliant punishments he had devised for them. He was really pleased with himself.
Of course, looking them now, with their unhealthy, greenish faces, he felt a fleeting sense of guilt, but for some reason he also sensed that the palpably gloomy atmosphere in the courtroom had little to do with either the case or the socially useful work he had assigned to those two brilliant minds.
“Welcome, everybody. Did you have a nice weekend?” Judge Wyatt asked sarcastically, looking first at Amalia and then Ryan.
At that question, Amalia turned even paler, something that the judge would have thought impossible a moment before; the Assistant D.A., on the other end, went as stiff as a statue. Their weekend couldn’t have been that good, then, thought the judge to himself.
“Er, right. Very well, let’s move on then, shall we?” he mumbled, annoyed at not having received an answer from either one of them. “What are the charges?” he asked his assistant, who began to list the details.
When she understood that they were talking about her, Liz stood up, followed by the rest of the defense team.
“So, are we still intending to charge Miss Stubbs with attempted murder?” Wyatt asked the Assistant D.A. in a very professional tone.
At that point, Ryan stood up and tried to say something, but he seemed unable to emit anything except a strangled mumble. Wyatt was well aware that he wasn’t the most patient man in the world, but he nonetheless sat up straight in his chair and repeated the question. This time, though, his tone sounded more like a warning.
Alex pulled at his boss’s jacket and Ryan swallowed loudly, then could only say “Yes we are, your Honor,” in a strangled voice.
If they went on at that rate, the hearing would last until midnight. “How does the accused declare herself?” he asked Amalia.
“Not guilty, your Honor. My client admits to having bought a single dose of a controlled substance, which was intended for personal use, and then giving it to Mr Delaney, but she completely rejects the absurd accusation formulated by the Assistant District Attorney regarding any attempt at murder.” While she was concluding her sentence, she turned to look at Ryan with the precise intention of sending him a very clear and eloquent message. A message that Mr O’Moore seemed to have received loud and clear, to judge by his agonized expression.
“Mr Assistant D.A., Ms Berger, please bring your official lists of witnesses to my desk.”
The two of them obeyed with the enthusiasm of people walking to the gallows. Usually, the pair of them could barely contain their energy, behaving like two enraged terriers straining to go for each other’s throats, so why were they so glum and dispirited today? He wondered.
“Is… is everything alright?” he felt obliged to ask them when they finally reached his desk. He really hated having to take care of lawyers, who he considered pretty useless human beings. Amalia nodded before he could finish the question, being very careful not to turn her head towards the Assistant D.A., while Mr Moore seemed unable to move and just stood staring at her with a distressed expression on his face.
Wyatt was finally beginning to understand what their problem was. He had been young once too, and he still remembered it all pretty well: he had let Mrs Wyatt ensnare him almost thirty years earlier, but he still remembered how much fun it had been getting himself entangled in her traps. As he looked at the two of them, he thought he could imagine what was causing all that inexplicable stress in two of the most hardened lawyers history had ever known. And now that he came to think about it, it occurred to him that there had always been a slightly over-the-top antagonism between them, right from the first day he saw them. He should have noticed it immediately. And maybe he had – maybe he had subconsciously understood everything, and that’s why he assigned them those hours of socially useful work. And now he had even managed to matchmake for them.
His wife would be so proud of him.
Ryan went back to his table, clutching the list of witnesses, which he then read for the hundredth time, even though he would much rather just have burned the damn thing.
As the minutes went by, he felt like he was completely losing his mind. He couldn’t stop staring at Amalia, who, on the contrary, seemed perfectly composed and able to totally ignore him. Women, he thought – they’re always the first to turn the page, in the end. One day they’re declaring their undying love for you, the next they’ve met someone far more interesting than you could ever be.
Could it be possible that Amalia had already forgotten him? The idea of her being able to arrive in the courtroom dressed so elegantly and looking so perfect made him paranoid. Because he had never felt worse in his entire life. He hadn’t slept properly for two days because his mind had been churning with increasingly absurd and illogical thoughts, and that morning he had actually considered not coming to court at all but just calling in sick and pretending he had some rare disease. And to be honest, he really did feel sick. He was beginning to think he must have some mental health issue which had prevented him from eating since the previous Saturday. He could have probably declared mental infirmity, and a therapist, as well as Niel, would back up his theory that he had totally lost his mind. And anyway, weren’t there already dozens of clinical studies that treated people in love as being mentally ill?
“Ok, then. Let’s get on with on. The sooner we get this little show started, the sooner we finish, don’t we,” Wyatt mumbled, snapping Ryan out of thoughts about his presumed illness. “Right – the prosecution calls its first witness…” he said, signalling to Ryan to finish the sentence.
Ryan turned to observe Amalia’s face once again, staring at the severe expression he found on it. A few months earlier he would have thought that was all there was to her: a woman made exclusively of sharp corners and snippy asides. But luckily for him he’d had the chance to get to know her private side, which was completely different to what he’d expected, revealing a person he would have never suspected of existing. When all he knew about her was based on his prejudices it had been almost easy, but now it was practically impossible to cut her out of his life, knowing the person she really was behind the ‘hard woman’ mask she wore.
Look at me – turn round and look at me,
damn you.
But she didn’t turn at all. She remained sitting there seraphically, with her eyes on the judge. And it didn’t matter that it was costing her an almost intolerable effort – what mattered was that she was managing to focus all her attention on the hearing while he could barely think straight.
“The prosecution calls Doctor Li as first witness. Doctor Li took care of reviving Mr Delaney while he was still inside the club,” he said, trying to sound assured. Though he wasn’t feeling assured at all – anything but, in fact.
And that was how it all went.
While the prosecution questioned their witness, Amalia continued taking notes – partly because that was the only way she could stay focused on the hearing. But keeping her concentration levels up was costing her a lot of hard work. She could instinctively feel Ryan’s presence on her right, and when he stared at her – which he did quite often – it took her breath away. If she went on like that, she would soon pass out from lack of oxygen in her lungs. That would put an end to her dream of showing everyone what a capable professional she was, which was all that she wanted to do that day. She’d always known it would be hard, but she hadn’t imagined just how hard. She was like an open wound which started bleeding again every time Ryan spoke. The Assistant D.A. was already questioning his third witness, and many more were scheduled to appear. So far he had called the doctor, the manager of the club and the first policeman who reached the scene of the incident: all minor witnesses. Amalia had understood perfectly the line that he had decided to take and the crescendo he was planning to build up to over the course of the hearing: he would call Delaney’s friends as his last witnesses. She would have done just the same thing had she been in his shoes. Unfortunately for him, though, she was more than ready to cross-examine each of them.
If his plan was solid, hers was no less so, and that was because, although they were different, they both thought in similar ways. She felt at least as confident of the outcome as Ryan did – up until that moment her cross-examinations had been a pure formality, but things would soon get worse, she was absolutely sure of it.
That phase of the hearing lasted for a few days, until Ryan had finally worked his way through all of his improbable witnesses and Amalia had only one person left to call in front of the court. Liz’s testimony could make things go either way – make the Assistant D.A. lose this case totally or, if things didn’t go well, end up with him proclaimed the victor. It was practically impossible to tell which way it would go. It was going to be a tough fight for Liz, who had to convince the judge of her story during Amalia’s questioning and give Ryan good answers. Amalia was sure Ryan wouldn’t spare her when she took the stand. In fact, she was so scared of his vicious tongue that she almost wanted to leave the room while her client was being cross-examined. So far, Ryan had presented only circumstantial ‘evidence’ and based all his accusations on mere conjecture. But by doing that he had managed to create a reasonable doubt, tossing off the odd little poisonous quip here and there. That’s why avoiding Liz’s testimony could be dangerous: if there’s a doubt that needs clearing up and you have nothing to hide, you want to speak for yourself.
And that was the reason why the previous day the young girl had rehearsed into the night to make sure she was prepared for her most important test. She knew that at the end of the day it was her own fault that she’d gotten herself into this mess, and she had to find the strength in her to get back out of it again. With, of course, a little help from Amalia.
“So, Miss Stubbs, please tell us how events unfolded that night. In detail,” Amalia asked her, after Liz had carefully taken her seat. As instructed, she was wearing a very chaste dark blue suit with a white blouse, her hair was combed into a braid and she wore no makeup. She was a real portrait of innocence.
Amalia stood in front of Liz, smiling kindly at her to try and get her to relax. The tension was visible in her eyes and the dark circles around them were sufficient proof that the night preceding that momentous day had been quite a tormented one.
“Well, my evening started at Masha Heller’s party. She’s a long-time friend of mine.”
“How many people were at that party?”
“I don’t know exactly, but I’d say about a hundred…”
“Was Thomas Delaney there?”
“I didn’t see him, so I guess not.”
“But you met him afterwards in Broadway, at the Lagoon.”
“That’s right. We met on the club’s dance floor. We danced and had a few drinks together, and there were a few mutual friends there too.”
“Okay, let’s get down to the most important part. That is, let’s talk about the cocaine. How did you acquire it and why did you then give it to Thomas Delaney?”
Before answering, Liz swallowed. “I sometimes buy some coke to share with friends who can’t afford it. And that’s what I did that evening. I bought it, but I still hadn’t decided who I was going to share it with, and in the end I decided I didn’t feel like taking it any more, so when Tommy asked me if I had some, I gave it all to him.”
“But we know that Mr Delaney has enough money to buy whatever he likes, don’t we?” Amalia asked.
“He usually does. But I heard that Tommy and his father had been having problems in the past few weeks, and that apparently he wasn’t receiving his weekly allowance any more. Anyway, he didn’t have any money that evening, so he asked me to give him the coke that I had.”
Ryan jumped up from his chair: “These are only assumptions, your Honor,” he said abruptly.
Amalia turned to stare at him with a challenging expression on her face.
“Actually, Mr Delaney’s father gave me a signed deposition yesterday, where he confirmed what my client has just said. Because he and his father had argued, Thomas Delaney was completely broke that evening. And his father also explained that the argument was precisely about his son’s drug use. If the Assistant D.A. thinks it’s necessary, we can call Mr Delaney senior to testify directly about it.”
She had blown him out of the water with that one. Amalia knew very well that Ryan had been trying to contact Thomas’s father for days, but hadn’t been able to get through. That was because ‘father of the year’ was so afraid of bad publicity from the incident that initially he wanted nothing to do with the hearing. So Amalia had used her connections to reach him. She wouldn’t usually do anything like that, Liz deserved to pay for her own failings, but not for other people’s as well.
“That won’t be necessary,” he admitted in an irritated tone, before sitting down again tensely.
“So, let’s go back to that evening… You gave him the cocaine as a present, simply because you were friends with Thomas…” Amalia began again.
But Ryan interrupted her again.
“Your Honor, can we avoid letting the defense bamboozle us with irrelevant details and suppositions?” he asked, going red in the face.
Wyatt looked first at him and then at her, then shook his head.
“Very well, ok. Please, let’s not say anything that might offend our Assistant D.A.’s sensitivity. Let’s stick to the facts.”
“Fine. So, you gave the famous cocaine away. Did you ask for money or anything else in exchange?”
Liz shook her head resolutely. “Absolutely not. I didn’t need money. I knew Tommy was going through a difficult time in his life and I just wanted to be friendly. Our families are friends.”
“And was that the only cocaine that Mr Delaney managed to obtain for himself that evening?”
“To be honest, I don’t think it was. I sort of saw that he had a couple of bags of something in his hand not long before he passed out.”
Ryan had already stood up. “Objection! The accused ‘doesn’t think’ and she only ‘sort-of’ saw him – she can’t be sure.”
Stung by Ryan’s words, Liz reacted without waiting for Amalia to prompt her.
“No, he’s right – I actually saw them, and I’m sure of it. I had laser surgery six months
ago to get rid of my short-sightedness so now I can see perfectly and from a distance without a lot of light. Tommy had two little bags containing white powder in his hand,” she said again determinedly.
Amalia, satisfied, turned to look at Judge Wyatt. “Your Honor, if you’ll allow me, the defense would like to add one more witness to our list.”
Ryan jumped up out of his chair again like a lobster touching boiling water, and the judge’s face immediately turned grim.
“Both of you, come over here,” he said coldly, asking Amalia, once she had reached his desk, “What’s this business with the surprise witness?”
She answered very calmly.
“Your Honor, we only managed to contact the waitress who was working at the Lagoon that night this morning. Apparently she was on holiday, but she was there that evening and her deposition is crucial.”
“That’s nonsense – this is just playing dirty, as the judge can see very well. And it’s not crucial at all…” said Ryan, trying to cut her off.
“We can prove that she was on holiday – in Alabama, at her mother’s, to be precise. But now she’s back in New York and ready to share with us what she saw that night. Your Honor, we can’t decide not to listen to what she has to say and put a young girl on trial simply because for the Assistant D.A. wants to turn all this into a question of principle,” she answered calmly.
Wyatt hoped to God that he would never have to see either of them again after that hearing. For about ten years, at least. And by then he would have already retired for sure.
“Lawyer Berger, I see you like to play with fire. I could very well refuse to hear your witness – when the hearing began, you could quite easily just have added her name to the list in the hope of managing to get in touch with her by the time it was her turn to take the stand,” he pointed out.
“You’re right, your Honor, but we didn’t want to bite off more than we could chew. We had no way of being sure we would be able to find her, nor did we know if she would give us useful testimony,” Amalia insisted.