Eyes of a Child (68 page)

‘At the time of your call,' Caroline said in acid tones, ‘Ricardo Arias was
dead
. If
he
gave you the papers, it really
is
news.'

Salinas, Paget thought, was curiously inactive; for whatever reason, he seemed content to let this pass without protest. ‘You may answer,' Lerner told Slocum. ‘Did you receive these papers from Mr Arias?'

Slocum shook his head. ‘No, Your Honor.'

‘That's a relief. Proceed, Ms Masters.'

Caroline moved closer. ‘How
did
you get them, Mr Slocum?' She gave him a chilling smile. ‘No names, please. I wouldn't want to reveal your sources.'

‘A third party gave them to me.'

‘And did this nameless someone tell you where
he'd
gotten them? Seeing how they weren't publicly availiable.'

‘No.'

‘You didn't think your source got them from Mr Paget, did you?'

‘I guess not.'

‘And Ms Peralta had also refused to give you a copy, correct?'

‘Correct.'

‘That pretty much leaves Mr Arias, doesn't it?' For a split second, Caroline paused. ‘Dead or alive.'

‘Objection.' Salinas said reflexively. ‘Calls for speculation.'

Caroline turned on him. ‘As to
what,
Victor? Whether Mr Slocum's nameless source received the papers from Mr Arias in a living state or
after
Mr Arias was deceased? In which case I would think that the district attorney would be even more enthralled with talking to his person than I am.'

It was lovely, Paget thought. In one deft response, Caroline had introduced the anonymous source as a party to shady dealings with Ricardo Arias and, at least possibly, to his murder. Even Salinas looked nonplussed: he was suddenly confronted with the prospect of protecting Slocum's source – certainly in the best interests of his boss, McKinley Brooks – while permitting Caroline to suggest that he was concealing a key witness. The alternative was to expose the source as an agent of James Colt and demonstrate that, however lethal the man's political designs might have been for Paget, literal murder was not among his assignments. Whatever Salinas's choice, Paget did not envy him.

‘Let me suggest this compromise,' Salinas said to Judge Lerner. ‘The district attorney will, of course, explore this matter with Mr Slocum in private. For present purposes, I suggest that he identify the source by occupation only, but testify fully and completely about the content of their conversations.'

This was shrewd, Paget saw: it preserved Salinas's options until he spoke to Brooks, while permitting testimony that might make the unknown source seem a little less sinister. As for Caroline, she might move to dismiss the charges if the source was not revealed, arguing that a material witness was being withheld; on the other hand, revelation of the source – if this was her reward for cornering Brooks – might be far less useful than a shadowy figure. Watching from the stand, Slocum looked somewhat diminished and completely lost.

‘Very well,' Caroline told Lerner. ‘If that solution is agreeable to the court, why don't we at least try it. Until we've
all
had time to think.'

Lerner steepled his hands. ‘For the moment, we'll proceed. But this has to be resolved, by agreement or otherwise, before this trial is over. I'd like to minimize the risk of reversible error.'

As Caroline turned to the witness, Paget saw that the jury was on edge. ‘How,' she said to Slocum, ‘did you come to know the source who gave you Mr Arias's papers?'

Slocum considered his answer. ‘I knew him before. From previous campaigns.'

‘And what is this person's occupation?'

‘Political consultant.' Slocum paused, then added quickly, ‘Self-employed.'

‘And how did he get these papers into your hands?'

Slocum glanced at Salinas. ‘My source called and asked to meet me confidentially. At my home.'

‘When you met him, what did he tell you?'

Slocum cleared this throat. ‘That they were papers concerning. Mr Paget. And that I could judge for myself whether they were newsworthy.'

‘Yes,' Caroline said dryly. ‘I'm sure that he didn't want to compromise your journalistic intregrity. Did he happen to mention what
his
interest was in seeing that this material got published?'

‘No. He wouldn't say.'

‘Did you at least form an impression?'

Slocum appeared torn between the desire not to answer and the fear of sounding disingenuous. ‘What I assumed,' he said at length, ‘was that my source represented someone hostile to Mr Paget's candidacy.'

‘Didn't it bother you, Mr Slocum, that you were being used by a politician to help torpedo a candidate he disliked?'

Slocum tried to summon a superior smile. ‘In my business, like yours, you learn useful things from a lot of people whose motives may not be the best but whose
information
serves the public interest.
My
only interest was the quality of the information itself.'

Caroline raised an eyebrow. ‘I thought, you didn't care whether the information was true or not.'

‘Objection,' Salinas said. ‘Badgering the witness, mischaracterizing prior testimony.'

‘Oh, never mind,' Caroline said carelessly. ‘So to summarize your testimony, you received this information from a political consultant who refused to reveal his interest, after
you
agreed not to reveal his identity
or
his motives. Is that it?'

Slocum stared past her. ‘Essentially, yes.'

‘And after
that
, you decided to print the information this person fed you – which you concede would damage Mr Paget – without knowing the credibility of that information?'

‘Yes.' Slocum's voice rose. ‘I decided the story had value as it was.'

‘So much for journalistic integrity. Now let me call on your expertise on another area – political disaster. Would you say that it would be damaging to whatever politican had your “source” leak this information if the
politician
's identity was known?'

Slocum hesitated. ‘Maybe.'

‘Potentially fatal, even.'

Slocum's voice had become a monotone. ‘I can't really say.'

‘Oh, you really
can
, Mr Slocum.' Caroline's New England voice carried an undertone of contempt. ‘You were certainly less bashful when Mr Salinas asked you if the information
itself
would ruin Mr
Paget
's campaign. So why don't you give me your best assessment.' She paused again. ‘In the public interest, of course.'

Slocum still did not face her. ‘It might be damaging, I suppose.'

Caroline paused for a moment. ‘Did
Mr Arias
appreciate that fact?'

Slocum looked startled, and then his face closed. ‘He was
dead
. Just like you point out.'

Caroline smiled. ‘He wasn't dead, was he, when you first talked to him?'

Slocum glanced toward Salinas. ‘Did you,' Caroline snapped, ‘ever talk to Mr Arias?'

Slowly, Slocum turned back to Caroline. ‘Yes.'

‘And when was that?'

‘After I saw the article in the
Inquisitor
. When I was planning to write about it.'

‘So Mr Arias didn't point out the article himself?'

Slocum's eyes flickered. ‘No.'

‘Who did?'

Another glance at Salinas. ‘My source.'

Caroline nodded. ‘Your friend the ‘consultant.' I rather thought so. And during this
first
conversation, what did your ‘source' say?'

‘Just sent me the article. To see if I was interested.'

‘And when you subsequently called Mr Arias, he didn't happen to ask you for money, did he?'

‘Not exactly.' Slocum looked down. ‘He did ask if we paid for interviews.'

‘And what did you say?'

‘That I didn't think I could.'

‘And how did Mr Arias respond to that?'

Slocum paused. ‘He wanted to know who else might be interested and whether I'd talked to anyone like that.'

Paget felt a surge of contempt; glancing at the jury box, he saw Joseph Duarte's mouth thin in distaste. ‘And what did you tell him?' Caroline said.

Slocum looked away. In an affectless tone, he said, ‘That I couldn't reveal my sources.'

Caroline stared at him in silence. ‘But you
did
pass on Mr Arias's interest to your ‘source,' correct?'

A long pause. ‘Yes.'

‘Well,' Caroline said with disdain, ‘then it looks like you helped set up a blind date, anyhow. And you've already agreed, I believe, that anyone who knew about your “source”'s role – or the politician he worked for – might be in a position to damage that politician seriously, correct?'

‘I suppose, yes.'

Caroline waited a moment, then, quietly asked, ‘Including Mr Arias? A man with a proven gift for extortion?'

‘Objection,' Salinas said. ‘The question calls for speculation.'

‘Sustained.' Lerner turned to Caroline. ‘I think you've made your point, Counselor.'

Smiling slightly, Caroline gave the judge a nod of respect. I'll change subjects, Your Honor,' she said, and turned to Slocum. ‘Beyond your appetite for such morsels as your “source” provided, you decided to print them at the risk of your life, correct?'

Slocum faced her again. ‘I don't quite follow you.'

‘I mean, given how scary Mr Paget can be on the telephone, weren't you concerned for your personal safety?'

Slocum folded his arms. ‘I didn't say that. I said he was angry.'

‘You didn't worry that Mr Paget was going to do away with you?' Caroline said in tones of mock admiration. ‘Very brave, Mr Slocum. Tell me, do you have any reason to believe Christopher Paget to be a violent man?'

‘I don't know.'

‘Yes or no,' Caroline snapped.

Slocum paused. ‘No. Not specifically.'

‘And do you happen to know Mr Paget's position on violence in our society? Including gun control?'

Another pause. ‘Yes.'

‘Did you also happen to attend Mr Paget's speech to the California Society of Newspaper Editors, given shortly after a deranged father with an assault rifle slaughtered seven children in a recreation center?'

‘Yes.'

Caroline turned to Judge Lerner. ‘Your Honor, I would like to show the witness a videotape of that speech – it's only about ten minutes – and then ask a few brief questions.'

Salinas stood. ‘I object, Your Honor. This is a murder trial, not a political rally. And Mr Paget's self-serving speech has no probative value for
either
purpose.'

‘Nonsense, Your Honor. The speech was given well before Mr Arias's death. I believe that Mr Paget's distaste for guns,
and
for violence, is more than a little relevant to whether he shot Mr Arias with a handgun.' She turned to Slocum. ‘As is whether this witness – who has been so willing to inflate his response to Mr Pagest's understandable indignation into an act of heroic journalism – knows of
anything
in Mr Paget's life inconsistent with these stated beliefs.'

Lerner touched one finger to his lips. ‘It's been an unusual day,' he said with an air of bemusement. ‘Roll 'em, Ms Masters.'

Within moments, the courtroom was dark, and Caroline was sitting next to Paget, watching the introduction to his speech. In the darkness, the television screen flickered in black and white; the jury seemed as focused as patrons in a movie theater.

‘Any thoughts so far?' Caroline whispered.

‘A couple,' Paget whispered back. ‘You've not only decimated this guy, but you turned his ‘source' into a real problem for the prosecution. I can't believe Victor couldn't see it coming.'

Caroline turned to him. ‘I think he
did,
Chris. There's a very deep game going on here. My guess is that Victor set McKinley up, for reasons which have nothing to do with you.
Or
this case.'

Suddenly, to his surprise, Paget found himself fixated by his own image on the screen – a man in black and white, speaking with passion on a day when children had died.

‘I don't own a gun,' he heard himself say. ‘Outside the army, I've never fired one. Perhaps that makes it easier for me to notice that the chief use of handguns in America is domestic violence and robbing the corner store. . . .'

His voice had been soft with anger, Paget still remembered the feeling. But now, listening, he felt less angry than sad. Sad once more for the children who had died. Sad that he could no longer speak out. Sad that, now, the only use for these words was to defend him against a charge of murder.

Paget turned to look at the jury. In the half-light, they appeared as a silvery frieze: Marian Celler seemed to nod at the screen; Luisa Marin looked more accessible than ever before. Next to Paget, Caroline Masters still watched.

‘In the end, you wouldn't have made a politician,' she murmured. ‘But it really is too bad.'

Suddenly Paget felt grateful to Caroline; she had found a way for the jury to hear from him other than as a voice on Charles Monk's tape. And he knew that, whatever else, this had become a bad day for the prosecution.

When the tape ended and the lights came on, Caroline Masters stood facing Slocum.

The jury seemed drawn to her stillness. ‘Well,' she said to Slocum, ‘I'm sure we're all relieved to know how hard you worked to spare us Mr Paget's candidacy. And now, if you will, a few more questions.'