Eyes of a Child (72 page)

Looking down, Keller shook her head. ‘No.'

‘Let alone Christopher Paget.'

‘No.'

‘And until you saw his
picture,
you didn't recognize
Christopher Paget
as anyone you'd seen before, either. True?'

‘I guess not.' Keller shook her head. ‘I'm confused now.'

The jury, Paget saw, was transfixed; Joseph Duarte flipped his notebook back a page and drew a line through what he had written. But Caroline still had points to make.

‘No,' she said to Keller, ‘you're not confused
now.
Tell me, isn't it true that you recognized Mr Paget's picture because you'd seen him during the Carelli hearing?'

Keller twisted her hair again. ‘That might be
one
reason.'

‘So isn't it also true that when you identified him at the lineup, you recognized Mr Paget from his picture
and
from television?'

‘Anything's possible, I guess.' Keller's voice turned obstinate. ‘But I
still
think I recognize Mr Paget from in the hallway.'

Caroline stared at her and then plucked a plastic bottle from the pocket of her suit, holding it up for the jury to see. ‘Is
this
anything you recognize, Mrs Keller?'

‘I believe so.' Keller glanced at Salinas. ‘It looks like the bottle for my sleeping pill prescription.'

If he were not a lawyer, Paget thought, or on trial for murder, this might have been too terrible to watch. Caroline moved close to Keller. ‘In fact, it is. Just how long have you taken them?'

‘Almost a year.'

‘Every night?'

‘Yes.'

‘At about what time?'

‘A half hour before I got to bed. Sometime between nine and ten.'

‘How do they affect you?'

Keller's voice turned flat. ‘They help me sleep.'

‘By making you drowsy?'

‘They do that.'

‘And perhaps a little less observant?'

‘Maybe. I've got no way of telling.'

‘Tell me this, then. The night you saw the man leaving Mr Arias's apartment – for maybe five seconds, perhaps with his face in shadow – had you already
taken
your pill?'

Keller touched her forehead. She seemed to have drawn inward; she no longer looked out the courtroom. ‘I don't remember.'

‘But it's possible? Please, this is important.'

Keller furrowed her brow, as if trying to retrieve some image of that night. ‘I can't remember,' she finally murmured, ‘one way or the other. So I'd have to say it's possible.'

‘So would I,' Caroline said softly. ‘About how long after you saw this man did you fall asleep?'

‘I don't know. I remember being tired. Maybe a half hour.'

Caroline tilted he head. ‘You also wear glasses, do you not?'

‘Yes. But only for reading. Not for any distance.'

Caroline, Paget saw, was edging toward the easel. ‘Were you wearing them the night you saw this man?'

‘No. As I said, I use them just for reading.'

Caroline put her hand on her hip. ‘Do you think you could look at the lineup picture again and tell me Mr Paget's number?'

Before Keller even turned, Paget knew that she would squint. For the long moment of Keller's silence, Paget could feel the jury watch her. ‘Five,' she said finally.

‘It is indeed.' Caroline said dryly. ‘Let me return, for a moment, to your testimony that you heard voices and then a thud, like someone falling. How good is your hearing, Mrs Keller?'

Keller sat straighter. ‘It's very good.'

Caroline nodded. ‘And after this thud you heard, and before seeing the man in the hallway, did you hear anything else?'

Keller looked puzzled. ‘I don't believe so.'

Caroline paused a moment. Quietly she asked, ‘Not even a gunshot?'

Duarte's head jerked from his notes. There was a long silence as Keller considered the question. ‘No,' she answered slowly. ‘I did not.'

Caroline smiled briefly. ‘Thank you, Mrs Keller. I have no further questions.'

She turned, walking back toward Paget. Though her eyes were bright, she kept her face expressionless now; it would not do to look pleased.

As she sat, Paget whispered, ‘That was classic.'

‘A minor classic, at best.' Watching Salinas rise, Caroline kept her voice low. ‘Once Keller's neighbor told Johnny Moore that all she could talk about for two weeks was the Carelli case, this poor lady was as dead as Humpty Dumpty. Not even Victor can put her together again.' She turned to Paget. ‘No deal?'

‘No deal.' Paget paused a moment. ‘And no defense.'

Redirect was over quickly, as Caroline knew it would be.

Salinas did his best. Yes, Keller affirmed, she believed the man in the hallway was Christopher Paget. At the time, she had not recognized the man in the picture
or
the lineup as Paget – to her, he was the man in the hallway. Wearing glasses to see would have done more harm than good, and she was too frightened to be drowsy. Listening, Caroline had no more idea who Keller had seen than did Keller herself; for all Caroline knew, it
was
Chris Paget. But that mattered as little as Victor's redirect; as the key prosecution witness, Georgina Keller was damaged goods.

When it was over, and the jury excused, Caroline asked Judge Lerner for a meeting in chambers.

Glum, Salinas seemed to know what was coming. They sat in front of Lerner's desk as the judge, leaning back in an overstuffed chair, contemplated the prosecutor with a certain sympathy. Caroline had been in Victor's place; she knew too well what it meant.

‘It's Friday afternoon,' Lerner said pleasantly to Caroline ‘You're not planning to make me work, are you?'

Caroline smiled. ‘Not until Monday morning, Your Honor. But I wanted to discuss our plans for the defense.'

The judge nodded. ‘Go ahead.'

‘We have none.' Glancing at Salinas, she saw that he was determinedly stoic. ‘Under the circumstances, we plan to present no witnesses. But before final argument, I
would
like to move to dismiss this case for lack of evidence.'

The judge nodded again, as if he had expected this. ‘Eight o'clock Monday morning, then. But be prepared for final arguments.' He looked at Salinas. ‘Anything else, Victor?'

Salinas shook his head. ‘Not at this time.'

‘Then there's one thing
I
want to raise – this matter of Mr Slocum's source.' Lerner turned to her. ‘Is any part of your motion that the prosecution – or this reporter – denied you a material witness? Whoever this “source” is.'

Caroline shook her head. ‘No, Your Honor.
If
there's final argument, we intend to make a point of the uncertainty this creates. But we've chosen to accept Mr Salinas's compromise.' She turned to Salinas, pinning him to the wall. ‘That is, if you
and
Mr Brooks still stand by it.'

Salinas looked like a man concealing some deep emotion: Caroline was certain that Brooks had ordered him not to let Slocum's source become a witness and to accept the problems this created. She could well imagine the fury of someone as competitive as Salinas. ‘The D.A.,' he said finally, ‘has decided to let Mr Slocum protect his source.'

Lerner nodded his satisfaction. ‘That's it, then. See you Monday morning, for Ms Masters' motion.'

That was all. ‘For the record,' she told Salinas on the way out, ‘we're not taking McKinley's deal. But you can tell him he's off the hook.'

Salinas merely shrugged. His expression was unfathomable; perhaps Caroline only imagined his disappointment. They trailed out of chambers, Salinas quiet, Caroline quietly pleased.

Lerner was the right judge; her strong sense was that, come Monday, he would dissmiss the case.

Christopher Paget was almost home.

Chapter
16

Paget spent the weekend quietly. Unlike Caroline, he seesawed back and forth, believing that Lerner would either throw out the case or let it go to a jury about which Paget still had grave doubts. The prospect of a quick exit – the case closed, the pursuit of new evidence cut off – both tantalized and tormented him. The hours passed too slowly.

It gave him time to think. But the summing up depressed him; that Carlo and Terri had lied for him was deeply painful in itself
and
because neither relationship could ever be the same. He cared much more about that than about the world at large, personified by the camera crews posted outside his door. But he had paid a price there too: even if he was acquitted Monday, the first thing people would think of when they met him was Ricardo Arias.

He saw Terri only once. There had been a call from Elena's therapist; Terri seemed quite troubled, although she would say little. But for the first time, Terri appeared to be uncomfortable in his home; encountering Carlo, she was distant and preoccupied. She received the news that Paget would not testify with dead calm, wishing him luck and asking no questions. She left shortly after.

Whether he won or lost, Paget knew, there would be a reckoning between them. There were wounds and doubts, perhaps for both of them, which had yet to be addressed: Paget sensed that what would preserve their relationship for a time was a conviction, because Terri would feel obliged not to desert him. But that would be, Paget intended to tell her, no consolation at all.

The one bright spot was Carlo. Paget saw Caroline's dismantling of Georgina Keller for what it was: the guile of a gifted lawyer who knew that eyewitness testimony, which seemed so damning to lay people, was often not hard to discredit. But Carlo chose to seize on it as vindication, as if to fill the vacuum created by his father's silence. The knowledge that Carlo's optimism was an act of will did not entirely dampen Paget's pleasure: with his future in the balance, any lightening of Carlo's mood afforded some relief.

He had been right to choose Caroline, Paget thought. Despite the restrictions he had placed on her, she had done an extraordinary job; Paget wondered if he himself could have done as well. There had been a real comfort in Caroline's presence; her coolness and self-confidence were much more bracing than constant solicitude or burning zeal. And he had come to like her. Sometimes Paget wished that he could tell her the truth.

But between them, perhaps the truth did not really matter. Caroline was a professional; he knew she would spend the weekend preparing and would make an excellent argument. By Monday morning, Paget had half convinced himself that, within hours, he would be free again.

The first sign that something was wrong was the look on Salinas's face.

They were in court, waiting for Judge Lerner. The jury was not present; reporters, notified by Lerner that Caroline's motion would be heard, already packed the courtroom. But Salinas did not appear edgy and combative, as Paget would have expected; he seemed almost detached, and there was something in his bland expression that suggested a half smile. He looked like the only person in the courtroom who knew what was happening.

Paget turned to Caroline. ‘What's with Victor – ?'

‘
All rise
,' Lerner's courtroom deputy called out. ‘The Superior Court of the City and County of San Francisco, Judge Jared M. Lerner, is now in session.'

Lerner ascended the bench. ‘All right,' he said crisply. ‘Our first business this morning is the defendant's motion to dismiss all charges. Ms Masters?'

Salinas stood. ‘Pardon me, Your Honor. But within the last forty-eight hours there has been a development which renders this motion premature, at best. The people ask leave of court to reopen the prosecution case, to present another witness. After disclosure of the prospective new evidence to Ms. Masters, of course.'

Paget was stunned: Salinas had underscored the word ‘new evidence,' to tell him that the deal with Brooks could not be retrieved. ‘He's
sandbagged
us,' Caroline murmured in a taut voice, and quickly stood. ‘Just how did you discover this witness, Mr Salinas?'

‘
She
discovered us.' Salinas's voice had a shade of irony. ‘She recognized Mr Paget from television. A news report of Friday's court proceedings.'

All at once, Paget knew what had happened. But Caroline, of course, did not. ‘Who
is
this?' she asked Salinas. ‘Surely not another keyhole peeper.'

Salinas shook his head. ‘This person met Mr Paget in an entirely different context. A charitable donation, in fact.'

Caroline turned to Lerner. ‘A moment, Your Honor, if you please.' She sat, turning to Paget with a look of worry and annoyance. ‘Do you know what this “new evidence” is?'

Paget felt sick. ‘Yes,' he answered. ‘I do. And any chance for a deal with Brooks is gone.'

Lerner gave Caroline the morning to prepare; the witness's testimony was simple and straightforward and would not take long. At two o'clock, Anna Velez took the stand.

Except for a black suit, she was as Paget remembered her – lovely brown eyes, gold earrings, and vivid makeup, pleasantly plump. He had been a fool to hope that she would not remember
him
.

Salinas still seemed calm, almost matter-of-fact. ‘And where do you work, Ms Velez?'

‘At the Goodwill outlet on Mission Street.'

Paget's memory of that day, he found, had a dreamlike quality: shaken by Monk's questions, he had drifted through the next several hours, from one haphazard solution to another, settling on the most foolish. When, as fate would have it, he encountered Anna Velez. Of that, his memory was perfect.