Obstruction of Justice

by Perri O'shaughnessy

  He had brought a pad of paper just like hers, and for half an hour they talked over details of the upcoming preliminary hearing. Jason understood that he wouldn’t be testifying.

  "Who is the judge?" he said.

  "A Municipal Court judge from Alpine County. Our regular sitting Municipal Court judge, Judge Flaherty, disqualified himself because he knew your grandfather."

  "He’ll give the new judge an earful."

  "No. That’s not allowed."

  "I’m young, but I know a few things. And I know that the whole town is sure I did it. There’s something in the paper every day about it. My grandfather knew everybody with any money here. Even the judge from Alpine will have heard something."

  The only time Jason lost his calm was when Nina mentioned his family. He didn’t want to put his mother and sister on the stand, but Nina couldn’t promise him that wouldn’t happen. "This is a reactive situation," she told him. "We have to find out as much as we can about the prosecution’s case. If the chance arises to refute an important point, we take it, even if it’s Sarah or Molly who has to do it. Besides, they’ve both been subpoenaed by the prosecution. That doesn’t mean they will definitely be called, but they may be."

  "They don’t know anything!" Jason said. If he had been behind bars, he would have grabbed and shaken them. All he could do was ball his hands into fists and push them against the window between them.

  "We don’t have a choice about that," Nina said. "Now settle down. Control yourself. I have to talk to you about something you’re not going to like."

  Jason put his hands down. He put his head back to breathe deeply for a minute. Then he opened his intense blue eyes, saying, "I’m ready."

  "I want to defend you, but given what little you have told me, I can’t do much. I need more, Jason. If you’re protecting someone, I want you to tell me. You may be hoping that I’ll win the prelim without that information and you won’t ever have to tell me, but it doesn’t work that way."

  "I didn’t kill my grandfather. What more do you have to know?"

  "Maybe you can help me with one little piece of physical evidence that may convict you all by itself. Your prints were on the shovel at the grave."

  "Oh, no." Jason moaned and buried his face in his hands. "Oh, God."

  "Without the fingerprints, Jason, there isn’t much of a case against you. But the head of the shovel had blood on it. Your grandfather’s blood."

  "I never touched him!"

  "You were there? You were the one digging? Why, Jason? Why?"

  "I can’t tell you!" he cried. "Don’t ask me to!"

  Flaring, Nina said, "You’re not the only one with a stake in this thing! Who do you think called in the 911 from Wright’s Lake the night of the fire?"

  "How would I know?"

  "I did!"

  "You?" His look of horror only reflected back what she herself felt whenever she considered that night, her actions, and in particular, the item she had picked up from the floor of the cabin.

  "I went looking for you." She wanted to tell the bare bones of the story, so that, if he really couldn’t help her with what happened from personal knowledge, he might just be able to engage his mind in the ongoing battle she was fighting. "Your mother was worried about you when she learned you hadn’t spent the night at Kenny’s. She called me. I found out that you might have gone to the cabin."

  "Oh, my God! She sent you after me?"

  "She didn’t know where you were. She thought Joe Marquez might know. I found out from Joe."

  "Did Joe say I was up there?"

  "He said you might be, so I went looking for you. The fire was just beginning."

  "What did you see?" Jason demanded.

  "I went inside the cabin, but the fire was too much. I made it back out just in time. Your grandfather was already dead. Whoever set the fire—I didn’t see."

  "But—but that makes you a witness, doesn’t it?"

  "Yes. And I probably will be, if this goes to trial, because I’m withholding evidence in a criminal proceeding. I’m obstructing justice."

  "The police have no idea?"

  "No. I’m going to see you through this prelim. The police are soon going to stumble onto the fact that I’m the one that discovered the body. When they take my sworn statement, I can’t perjure myself. I’ll have to say I was there. I have to tell them everything I know. Just like I’m telling you."

  Jason, who had been tapping on the table in front of him with his fingers, speeded up the beat.

  "I haven’t told the police I went up there, because I found something in the cabin that I took with me. I’d rather not turn it over to them just yet," Nina went on.

  "What?"

  "A pair of green sunglasses. Vuarnets."

  The tapping paused, then resumed. Jason’s face was stricken. "Anyone could wear sunglasses, though. You can’t know whose sunglasses they are." He thought hard, his second hand joining the frenetic thumping, and then, noticing the psychic maelstrom he had unleashed, he pressed them together to shut them up. "It’s possible I left them up there visiting the cabin this summer."

  "I’m told by your mother that the owner of the cabin says it wasn’t used at all this summer. You’ve been wearing shades like those since at least the day I saw you on Tallac. Or do you have another pair you can show me to convince the world these sunglasses aren’t yours?"

  Jason didn’t answer.

  Nina said, "You’ve had those all through high school, your mother says. You hardly go anywhere without them. Can you remember when you saw them last?"

  "No idea."

  "Jason, please. Help me."

  "I don’t know what to say. I’m in so much trouble, and I’m so confused. But... you haven’t told anyone?"

  "No one knows but me," said Nina.

  "I’m in shock."

  "That’s enough for today. I have to go," Nina said. "I had to tell you, Jason, even though it exposes me."

  "That was brave," Jason said. "You’re protecting me, even though it puts you at risk. For family, I would do it, too, no matter how bad a thing had happened. But it’s not like I was your own son, or your father, or something. A stranger, doing that for me ... I can give you something back. Nina..."

  "Mmm-hmm?"

  "I loved my grandfather. I didn’t kill him. I didn’t kill my grandfather. I swear!"

  "I believe you," Nina said, and she did.

  At the office, Sandy was having her breakfast, a scrambled-egg burrito from across the street. Sandy lived on burritos. "Looks good," Nina said.

  "Did you eat yet?"

  "They were having doughnuts at the jail. I couldn’t stand it. After I left, I stopped at Winchell’s and had a couple."

  "You need protein."

  "I need a miracle." She went into her office and began returning the sheaf of phone messages. Sarah de Beers had called twice that morning. Her messages were marked urgent.

  Molly answered the phone. "Is your mother home?" Nina asked her. "She’s been trying to reach me."

  "She wants to talk to you. She was wondering if you could come out to the house at twelve." Twelve to one was Nina’s only free time left in the day, and she had promised herself a walk along the lake, but she said immediately, "Okay. I’ll be there."

  "Did you see Jason this morning? Your secretary said you were at the jail."

  "Yes. "

  "How is he?" Her voice was tight and anxious.

  "His spirits are good," Nina said. She always answered that sort of question that way, and it had its hoped-for effect, seeming to soothe Molly.

  The rest of the morning passed in a blur of meetings, so she made little progress toward lowering the tower of files on her desk before she had to leave.

  The de Beerses’ house and gardens looked as formal as if a wedding party was planned, all laid out in pastels mixed with white and black. Joe must have been working hard. He had stowed his gardening implements away, and there was no sign of him outside.

  Moll
y came to the door. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she wore jeans and a short white shirt that showed her navel and small, high breasts. She was so slim that her height didn’t seem excessive. It was only when she walked beside her that Nina realized Molly must be almost six feet tall. She and Jason must stop traffic when they were together. "You look like a skier," Nina said.

  "Snowboards," Molly said politely. "Jason and I go a lot in the winter."

  "How are you doing?"

  "Me? Better than Jason, I imagine. I’m taking the medicine Dr. Lee gave me. I feel better. I’m sorry you saw all that. I didn’t know you were out there."

  "You gave us all quite a shock. Especially your mother."

  "It was stupid. I won’t let myself get that down again." Molly was looking away. She had the same radiant smile and natural ease as Jason, but she seemed younger and more vulnerable than her brother. "I’m really sorry about trying to kill myself, now. Jason told me afterward that it was the lowest moment of his life. And of course, if I’d died, he wouldn’t have me around now, when he needs me so much."

  "Why did you do it, Molly?"

  "I just—I didn’t see how I could live through any more.

  "Any more what?"

  Molly didn’t answer.

  They climbed the wide and winding staircase to the second floor and entered a small den with a couple of comfortable sofas and a wide-screen TV.

  Sarah stood staring across the landscape at the distant lake through the casement window. She looked much as Nina had first seen her on the mountain, dressed casually, wearing no makeup.

  "Thanks for coming," she said, and the two women sat down. Molly leaned against the hallway door. She was there for her mother’s sake, her presence said, but the eyes that followed a flock of birds out the window also told Nina that Molly wanted to maintain her distance from both of them.

  "I suppose you want to talk about the subpoena you received. It’s just as well; we can get to this today instead of over the weekend," Nina said.

  "What do they want from me?" Sarah asked.

  "You gave a statement to the police that included information about the exhumation proceeding," Nina said. "Jason’s motive to kill his grandfather isn’t an essential element that has to be proven, and could even be left out at the preliminary hearing.

  "However, in this case the prosecutor evidently wants to give the judge some evidence of motive. Your testimony will make it clear that Jason and his grandfather differed strongly regarding the exhumation proceeding."

  "But they can get that from the court papers!"

  "Yes, but real live testimony is often preferable to flesh out the paperwork and answer questions that may come up."

  "I’m not going to testify against my son! I’m not going to let them drag me into court to hurt Jason. That’s the bottom line."

  Nina nodded. She hadn’t thought about the reaction Sarah would naturally have to being subpoenaed. The problem wasn’t legal, it was emotional, and she hadn’t had time to think beyond the legal side. "I see what you’re saying," she said. "Let me tell you three things that may help you. First, they may not call you. In general, the idea is to put on a minimal case, just enough to skate past the probable cause standard. This is a hearing, not a full-scale trial. If the judge seems to get the gist of the prosecution theory from the court papers, they may not bother you."

  Sarah listened, frowning.

  "Second, you don’t really have a choice."

  "I could get sick."

  "That might alert them that there is something you’re avoiding saying and draw more attention to you. They can just continue the hearing if a witness is sick. That would work against the strategy I’ve already outlined to you, of catching the prosecution before it is fully prepared."

  "Ah," said Sarah.

  "And third, I will be cross-examining you. When the prosecutor asks you whether Jason was angry at his grandfather, you have to answer carefully and truthfully. But I can then ask you questions that put your answer in a proper perspective. For instance: Did Jason ever make any threat against his grandfather that you know of?"

  "Never. Jason and Quentin liked each other. They had always gotten along. Quentin often intervened between him and Ray."

  "As far as you know, did Jason and his grandfather ever engage in any physical altercation of any sort?"

  "Of course not."

  "Jason suggested to you that this matter might be settled in a court proceeding, didn’t he?"

  "Yes. That was his idea."

  "He and his grandfather were on speaking terms?"

  "Yes, much more than that. Quentin’s birthday was last month, and Jason bought him a present, a new hat."

  "You see?" Nina said.

  Sarah nodded again. "We can turn this around to help Jason."

  "Read over your statement with care, and make very sure you don’t contradict anything you have said previously," Nina said. "Review your calendar and have the events straight in your head, so you don’t get confused. Answer the question directly, and explain your answer if you need to, but don’t say anything unnecessary. Molly, are you listening carefully? You’ve been subpoenaed too, although I think it’s even less likely that you’ll be called."

  "What if he says ’Just answer yes or no’?" Molly put in.

  "I’ll object," Nina said. "A witness has the right to finish an answer completely. Don’t worry, I’ll be there to make sure."

  "I guess I’ll have to handle this then," Sarah said.

  Nina liked that statement. She said encouragingly, "You’ll do fine."

  "Can they ask me about anything else? I mean, things about Jason that aren’t related to this case?"

  "Like what?"

  Molly was holding her hand up. "Don’t tell her these things, Mother," she said.

  "But honey, if I don’t tell Nina she might be surprised by what comes out—"

  "Nothing has to come out, Mom, unless you let it."

  "But what if the police do know, Molly? About the fight with his dad—"

  "It wasn’t a fight! Dad hit him, and Jason was only trying to defend himself!"

  "I’m sorry for bringing it up, Molly. Come here." Sarah held her arms out, but Molly stayed by the door, her face white, her voice trembling.

  "No. You listen! Don’t talk about Jason and Dad, because that’s got nothing to do with Grandpa dying and it just makes Jason look bad. Don’t pretend to know what you’re talking about, because you don’t, especially when it comes to Jason and me. You’ve been trying so hard not to know anything. You’ve been busy with your drinking and your boyfriend and your game of making this family look normal. And last of all, don’t try to kiss me and make it all better. Because you can’t! It’s too late!" Molly yelled out the words, and ran out of the room.

  Sarah jumped up to follow her, but Nina said, "Wait, Sarah. Just a minute."

  "She’s right," Sarah said, slumping in the doorway. "It does seem too late."

  "It’s never—"

  "I can’t help them. Why didn’t I leave Ray? I feel so guilty."

  "Someday they will understand."

  "How sad," Sarah said. "I think I was finally growing up myself the past couple of years, getting stronger." She fell silent.

  "Sarah, is there something important you haven’t told me?"

  "No."

  "Do you believe Jason killed his grandfather, Sarah?" It was a risky question, but Nina had to ask it before someone else did.

  "Sometimes I think—who else could it be?"

  "Do you have any facts I ought to know that would indicate he did?"

  "Nothing you don’t know," Sarah said. "If only you can get him off, Nina. We’d start fresh, learn how to be a family. But it’s like fate is against us."

  "We can’t lie down and let the situation roll over us. We have to open it up, find the chance. You’ve been trying hard, Sarah. Don’t quit on me."

  "I appreciate your coming," Sarah said. "You’ve been a great help to us
."

  "Not yet, but I’m trying. If you want to help— No offense, but don’t let yourself get down. Stay out of the martini shaker. No more pills. Get your sleep. Stay calm with Molly. You’ll pass through this whether you want to or not and come out the other side. So you might as well quit wasting your energy wishing it were otherwise."

  To her surprise, Sarah embraced her. There were tears in her eyes. Nina could feel the bones as she pressed against her.

  "You’re my hero," she said. "I’d better go to Molly. You can find the door."

  23

  NEXT STOP, JOE MARQUEZ. COOL RAIN HAD started in just after noon.

  From her car phone, Nina called Paul at Caesars. "Joe probably went home for lunch," she said. "Sandy says you haven’t talked to him yet. I’m tired of pussy-footing around. I want to look him in the eye when he tells me he sent me off into the fire and brimstone up at that cabin by some unplanned fluke."

  "Meet you there in ten minutes."

  "You know where Joe lives?"

  "Oh, yes," Paul said. "In fact, if you don’t mind, I’d like to kill two birds." He told her about the Pontiac Catalina and how it had been registered to Joe at the time of Anna’s death.

  "There can’t be a connection," Nina said.

  "It could be coincidence," Paul agreed.

  Nina slipped to the right of a car turning left off the highway, then moved back into the left lane. "Or it’s synchronicity," she said into the phone.

  "What exactly is that? I know the word. Title of a great old song by the Police. Let’s see... ’Many miles away, something crawls through the mud...’ "

  "Jung coined the word, I think."

  "But what’s it mean? I always just listened to the beat. Great tune too although ’Roxanne’ is still my favorite."

  "It means a series of events or objects that aren’t connected in any logical or causal fashion," Nina said into the phone. "But they’re connected."

  The car just ahead of her in the left lane suddenly decided to change to the right lane, just as a little pickup, almost invisible in the right lane beside her, suddenly decided to put on a burst of speed. An accident was about to happen. Nina swerved left and the Bronco’s tires jumped the curb of the center divider. The pickup driver slowed to watch her crazy maneuver, just long enough so that the car changing lanes could pull in front without hitting the pickup. The pickup slowed even more and honked angrily, but both vehicles were safe.