Injustice (35 page)

And they look at Henry. This case has stopped being about the molecular structure of DNA and strings of nucleotide pairs. It has stopped being about the handing off of evidence from the state to the feds and back. It has stopped being about semen stains, hair follicles, electrophoresis, and random match probabilities. It is now about evil. And evil sits in the courtroom with us. Henry wears the mark of Cain. He comes to us in a nightmare.

“I have nothing further,” Gregory Nations says.

Monica Brill cross-examines. She asks some questions about Bo-Jangles and about the bit of forest where Arthur and the dog walked that day. There is nothing she really wants to know about the dog or the woods. She just wants to try and replace this horrific vision of Kyle's remains with the image of a happy dog and peaceful woods.

Gregory's last witness is the medical examiner, who reminds me of Lurch: tall, gaunt, eyes deep in gray sinkholes. His responses to Gregory's questions, though monotonal, are quick and confident. He is not the doctor who examined the remains eight years ago, but he tells us he has performed a complete review of the record: Cause of death was undeterminable, and though the date of death couldn't be pinpointed with any accuracy, it was probably quite soon after Kyle's abduction. No foreign DNA was recovered from the remains, but seeing as there had already been a confession, a guilty plea, and a sentencing by the time they were recovered,
they hadn't been examined as closely as they might have been otherwise.

Gregory turns the witness over to Monica for cross-examination. She has no questions.

The state rests. Henry is as good as convicted.

I
t's almost noon. Judge Ballard announces that trial will resume first thing in the morning. I go to my office. Work has been piling up. I install myself at the desk and make a list of priorities as I drill down through the piles, delegating as much as possible, writing memos to assistants and status updates to Pleasant Holly. Everything on Subsurface and all related matters, including the annoyingly unsolved Jimmy Mailing murder, stays with me. There isn't much on Mailing: mostly updates from the Bureau confirming that they've made no progress but they expect to soon. I think this is code for the fact that it's been deemed low priority. True, Jimmy Mailing had found semi-legitimate work as Bud Billman's fixer at Subsurface, but I'm sure he was still involved in nefarious moonlighting. The hit on him looked professional, making it nearly impossible to solve. Also, since Mailing was a player in the scandal, there was no innocent victim in whose “defense” we needed to bring the perp to justice.

I write a quick email to Isler over at the Bureau about all of this, and I cc: Chip and Upton.

Last I knew, the Bureau was going to look at Voss for Mailing's murder. I know I'd have heard something if anything had turned up, but just to be sure, I send a quick follow-up email asking if investigation of that possible suspect is proceeding.

A moment later, Upton is in my office. “I've been wondering the same thing,” he says.

“About Mailing?”

“Yes. How about if you and I sit down and take a fresh look?” Upton has a mischievous twinkle, because what he's really saying is that maybe he and I can find something that the Bureau missed. This is like Upton: He's cocky and audacious. He's a good lawyer,
but I've often thought he'd be a better agent or detective because he seems to have an intuitive sense of human behavior—or to put it less discreetly, he can think like a criminal.

He almost was one once. He was a juvenile delinquent who caught a few lucky breaks that steered him onto a safer path before his youthful “ethic” of self-serving expedience had fully taken root. With his innate intellect, his physical coordination, and a good high school football coach, he landed himself a brief career as an NFL kicker instead of what could have been a long career in prison. I'm sure he's clean now, but he does seem to know an awful lot about the shadowy side of things.

He sits now in one of my office chairs, tipping back on two legs, feet on my desk.

“A fresh look?” I say. “Yes, let's. We ought to be able to outsmart the Bureau.”

“It wouldn't be the first time,” he says.

I'm not sure if this is true, but I agree with him anyway, and the two of us sit there a few moments, feeling like old cowboys talking about swinging up into the saddle to ride again. He looks very content.

I still see evidence in Upton of the unusual path he took into legal prosecution: He sometimes sees rules as things not to be guided by but to be danced around when needed. If he were a cop, he might turn off the video recording anytime a suspect needed some extra persuading. He is lenient and sympathetic with youthful defendants in nonviolent crimes. He thinks of them as less fortunate versions of his younger self. Conversely, he is remorseless with the ones he calls “the disrupters of our urban utopia.” These are the real criminals. They are the powerful ones—kingpins, people of violence with no regard for the lives they ruin along the way. This is a thing with Upton: He talks about the shining city on the hill. He's a true believer. He's a little kooky about it, and I used to worry that his zealous belief in the urban utopia could get him into trouble. But years have passed, and for the most part, he has colored within the lines.

I say, “I can't do this fresh look right now, unfortunately. I kind
of need to get caught up. How about tomorrow, after Henry's trial ends for the day?”

“Not tonight?”

“I have Barnaby.”

“Tomorrow, then. It's a date.” Upton sits there smiling at me, fingers interlaced across his stomach. He does this occasionally, just stares at me with an affectionate grin. He means well, but it's unnerving. Upton feels he owes me, because a few years back I did him a good turn when an old gambling problem came back to haunt him. I kept it quiet for him. I don't feel like he owes me anything, but it's nice to know if I ever need him, he'll show up.

He leaves. I continue drilling into the stack of paperwork. It's all humdrum except for a memo Chip sent along to me:

TO:
Agent d'Villafranca

FROM:
Stan Taylor, NTSB inspector

RE:
Billman fatality

Agent d'Villafranca: in response to your recent inquiry, we have little hope of recovering the wreckage of Bud Billman's V-tail Cirrus. As you know, it was lost offshore in an area where ocean depths exceed 500 feet. The chances of locating it are slim. In circumstances like this, the most common cause of aircraft accidents is pilot error. I'll be in touch if we get any more information.

I'm amazed. I had no idea Chip was looking into Billman's crash. I don't know if this is standard or if Chip suspects something.

I go home to Friendly City. I have Barn. He has a stomach bug, and I stay in the bed with him, keeping a pot close at hand for him to puke into and getting cool rags for his forehead. We're up most of the night.

M
onica Brill's first witness is Ron Bauer, a police detective from Orchard City. He is African-American, bald, and has beefy forearms, which we can see because he's wearing a long-sleeve T-shirt with the sleeves pushed up above his elbows. He tells us he has been retired from police work for the past five years, and that he now spends most of his time working in his wife's florist shop. Monica smiles as Ron Bauer tells us this. She speaks to him amiably. It all seems friendly.

MS. BRILL:
And before you retired, Detective, were you involved at all in the investigation of Kyle Runion's disappearance?

DETECTIVE BAUER:
I was.

MS. BRILL:
At some point the police zeroed in on one Daryl Devaney as the prime suspect, is that right?

DETECTIVE BAUER:
Yes.

MS. BRILL:
What evidence or facts made you suspect Mr. Devaney?

DETECTIVE BAUER:
Well, that was back then. It was based on what we knew then. But with what we know now, it's obvious that—

MS. BRILL:
Please answer the question, Detective. What made you suspect Daryl Devaney was responsible for Kyle Runion's disappearance?

DETECTIVE BAUER:
He was known to us.

MS. BRILL:
Known how?

DETECTIVE BAUER:
Always in trouble.

MS. BRILL:
Can you elaborate on that?

DETECTIVE BAUER:
No.

MS. BRILL:
Had you ever arrested him before?

DETECTIVE BAUER:
I don't know. Maybe.

It continues like this. Detective Bauer, who apparently once was the tenacious pursuer of Daryl Devaney, now wants to disown the case. Monica keeps after him; he keeps dodging and feigning ignorance. She keeps asking. Gregory keeps objecting that she is leading the witness. Finally, long after I expect it, Monica says, “Your Honor, I'd like permission to treat Detective Bauer as a hostile witness.”

The judge agrees.

Monica resumes, but now with leading questions. Her tone is aggressive, sometimes even mocking.

MS. BRILL:
Isn't it true, Detective, that you'd arrested Daryl Devaney twice in the past?

DETECTIVE BAUER:
Maybe. I don't remember how many times.

MS. BRILL:
One of which was for indecent exposure?

DETECTIVE BAUER:
Um. Maybe. Yes. The kid wasn't quite right.

MS. BRILL:
And isn't it true that neighbors you interviewed reported seeing Kyle speaking to someone in a red pickup truck the day he disappeared?

DETECTIVE BAUER:
Maybe. It was a long time ago.

MS. BRILL:
Well, let me refresh your memory.

Monica reads a police report about the red pickup truck. Then she shows Bauer the report.

MS. BRILL:
Is that your signature, Detective?

DETECTIVE BAUER:
Yes.

MS. BRILL:
So I'll ask you again, Detective. Is it true that neighbors—

DETECTIVE BAUER:
Apparently it is. If I wrote that report, it is true. Yes.

MS. BRILL:
And did you also determine that although Daryl Devaney didn't have a driver's license, his sister, Peggy, owned a red Ford F250 pickup that Daryl drove around on their farm and occasionally out onto the street?

DETECTIVE BAUER:
Um. Yes.

Monica keeps at it. Her intention is obvious: to create doubt over Henry's guilt by proving to the jury that Kyle Runion's killer has already been identified, apprehended, and sentenced.

Bauer grows more and more compliant as she wears him down. But while he started out relaxed and affable, he becomes monotonal and wooden. He admits that when Kyle disappeared, investigators immediately suspected Daryl Devaney and took him in for questioning, but they didn't have enough to charge him. He admits that they kept him under surveillance the entire year, from when Kyle disappeared until his remains were found near the reservoir some hundred and fifty miles away. Bauer is a big man, the kind you wouldn't want to mess with. But in the witness box, he's struggling. He seems no match for Monica.

MS. BRILL:
And when Kyle Runion's body was discovered nearly a year after his disappearance, you again brought Daryl Devaney in for questioning, isn't that true?

DETECTIVE BAUER:
Yes.

MS. BRILL:
And Daryl confessed to abducting Kyle?

DETECTIVE BAUER:
Yes.

MS. BRILL:
And sexually assaulting him?

DETECTIVE BAUER:
Yes.

MS. BRILL:
And killing him?

DETECTIVE BAUER:
Yes.

MS. BRILL:
And driving up to the Reservoir District to bury the body?