The Pardon (27 page)

By late afternoon, though, the damage to his defense was clear. The State had plugged the gaping hole in its case: The defendant's motive to kill Eddy Goss had been the weakest part of the prosecution's case, and Gina's testimony had transformed it into the strongest. Jack tried to show no reaction, but he wondered whether things would get worse. Though Gina had been on the witness stand nearly four hours, she had yet to breathe a word of their indiscretion. With Cindy sitting right behind him, he could only hope she never would.

Now, Ms. Terisi, McCue continued, did you call the police after all this happened?

No, she replied, I didn't.

I see, said the prosecutor as he stroked his chin. That may seem a little odd to some of our jurors, Miss Terisi. After someone broke into your house, you say you didn't call the police. Can you tell us why you didn't call the police?

Gina glanced at Cindy, then looked back at the prosecutor. I really don't have an explanation.

McCue did a double take. He hadn't expected that answer. Indeed, it was far different from the answer Gina had given him several times before, when they'd rehearsed her testimony. Are you saying you don't remember? he asked politely. Because I can refresh your recollection if -

I'm saying I don't have an explanation, she said firmly.

McCue narrowed his eyes and stepped out from behind the podium. If he was going to have to impeach his own witness, he needed to let her feel his presence. Miss Terisi, he said, his tone decidedly less friendly, when I interviewed you in my office, you told me that Mr. Swyteck had insisted that you not call the police. Isn't that correct?

Gina shifted nervously in her chair, but she remained firm. Yes. I said that. But I wasn't telling you the truth when I said it was Jack's idea. I was the one who insisted on not calling the police. Not him.

Wilson McCue stood in silence. He'd hoped to convince the jury that Jack had prevented Gina from calling the police because he wanted to take care of the problem himself - that Jack had intended to murder Goss. Gina's sudden switch had thrown him a curve. McCue didn't know the reason for the change. But he had to make at least one attempt to put his witness back on course.

It's okay, Miss Terisi, he said in a sympathetic tone. I understand that Mr. Swyteck is the boyfriend of your best friend. And I can understand how you might be reluctant to hurt her and her boyfriend. But come on, now, level with us. You have to admit that it's a little hard to believe that you were the one who didn't want to call the police after some stranger had just broken into your apartment.

Manny rose from his chair. Is that a question? he asked sarcastically.

Objection sustained.

My question is this, the prosecutor said to his witness. Did you want to call the police, or didn't you?

Gina swallowed hard. Of course I wanted to.

McCue felt a rush of satisfaction. It had taken a little maneuvering, but he'd placed his witness right back on track. Or so he thought Then tell us, please: Why didn't you call the police?

I wouldn't let myself.

Excuse me? Again he'd received an unexpected answer.

I refused to call the police because - Gina stopped herself. She looked away and wrung her hands in her lap. I didn't call, she said, lowering her head in shame, because I didn't want to have to tell the police that Jack and I had slept together.

The prosecutor's mouth fell open, and a murmur of disbelief filled the courtroom. Reporters feverishly flagged their notes with stars and arrows. Jack felt like a man impaled, but he couldn't allow himself the slightest reaction. He didn't dare look behind him, knowing that if he did, he'd lose all self-control.

Order, said the judge with the bang of her gavel.

Jack couldn't fight the impulse any longer. He looked over his shoulder at Cindy. Their eyes met for just a split second - long enough for him to see something he'd never seen before. It wasn't anger or embarrassment or heartbreak or disbelief. It was all of those things.

All right, miss, McCue said to his witness. He took a deep breath. Gina had diverted widely from the script, and at the moment his chief fear was that her admission about having lied was something the defense would seize on in cross-examination. He had to prevent that from happening. If ever there was a time to turn lemons into lemonade, this was it. That was a very painful admission you just made, and I'm glad you made it. It shows that you're an honest person - you tell the truth, even when it hurts.

Objection, said Manny.

Sustained, the judge said. Let's not vouch for our witnesses, Mr. McCue.

Sorry, Your Honor. But I'm just trying to elicit a very simple point. He turned and faced the witness. Ms. Terisi, when you and I talked in my office and you told me that little falsehood about it being Mr. Swyteck's idea not to call the police, you were not under oath, were you?

No, I wasn't.

Today, however, you are under oath. You are aware that you're under oath?

Yes.

Very well. So, tell us, Miss Terisi. What about all the other things you've testified to today, under oath: Are those true, or are they false?

They're true, she said resignedly. All of them are true.

The prosecutor nodded slowly. And tell us one more thing, please, if you would: Did Mr. Swyteck voice any objection when you told him that you did not want to call the police?

He didn't fight it, she said.

What did he do?

Gina shrugged. He left.

What time did he leave?

I don't know exactly, she said shaking her head. Sometime before three o'clock.

Before three, he repeated, as if to remind the jury that Goss was not murdered until four. The point seemed to register with most of them. Was he drunk or sober?

Gina's mouth was getting dry. She sipped some water, then answered, He still appeared to be a little drunk.

Did he take anything with him?

His car keys.

Anything else?

She nodded. He took the flower with him - the chrysanthemum he found under Cindy's pillow. The one he said was from Eddy Goss.

And did he say anything at all before he left?

Gina took a deep breath. Yes, he - she looked into her lap - he said, This has got to stop.'

McCue turned and faced the jury, looking as if he were about to take a bow. Thank you, Miss Terisi. I have no further questions.

McCue buttoned his jacket over his round belly and returned to his chair. The courtroom filled with the quiet rumble of spectators conferring among themselves, each seeming to confirm to the other that the accused was most definitely guilty as charged.

Order, said the judge with a bang of her gavel. The courtroom came to a hush. The judge checked the clock on the wall. It was almost five o'clock. I see no reason to keep the jury any longer today, she said. We'll resume tomorrow morning with defense counsel's cross-examination of this witness.

Your Honor, Manny politely interrupted. He had to do something to keep the day from ending on this devastating note. If I might just begin my cross-examination. Perhaps just twenty minutes -

The defense will have all the time it needs - tomorrow. This court is in recess, she announced as she ended the day with another sharp bang of the gavel.

All rise! shouted the bailiff, but his instruction was totally unnecessary. Everyone in the courtroom immediately stood and sprung into action. Television reporters rushed to meet five o'clock deadlines. Print journalists ran for the rail, hoping to get an interview with the prosecutor, the defense - or maybe even the government's star witness.

Jack jumped up, too, immediately looking behind him. He needed to say something to Cindy, but she was already gone. She'd darted from her seat the instant Judge Tate's gavel had landed on the block.

He stood beside his chair as he scanned the buzzing courtroom. Where is she? He flinched as he felt Manny's hand on his arm. You and I have to talk, his lawyer said.

Jack sighed. He could barely speak. Cindy and I have to talk, he said quietly.

Chapter
37

Jack raced home as quickly as he could, weaving in and out of rush-hour traffic. He was relieved to see Cindy's car in the driveway. She hadn't left him - at least not yet. He rushed into the house, then froze as he heard the sound of dresser drawers slamming shut in the bedroom.

What are you doing? asked Jack as he appeared in the bedroom doorway.

Her half-filled suitcase was lying open across the bed. What's it look like I'm doing? she said as she dumped a drawer of panty hose into her suitcase.

He sighed. It looks like you're doing exactly what I would do. Looks like you're giving me exactly what I deserve. But I'm asking you not to.

She wouldn't even look at him. She just kept packing. Why shouldn't I leave?

Because I'm sorry. You just don't know how sorry I am. You don't know how much I love you.

Stop it, she glared. Just stop it.

Cindy, he pleaded, it's not what you think. You've got to remember: This all happened right after the Goss trial, when everything was so crazy. I was being stalked by some guy who had tried to run me over and who'd just killed Thursday. I'd just come from Goss's apartment after stabbing myself in the hand. And then Gina managed to convince me that I was being naive to think you'd ever come back to me. She told me you and Chet were definitely not going to be just friends' over there.

Hold it, she said, looking at him with utter disbelief. Are you listening to what you're saying? Less than twelve hours after I left for Italy, you were in bed with my best friend because you were afraid that you couldn't trust me. That makes a lot of sense, Jack, she said with sarcasm, then resumed packing.

You don't understand, I was drunk -

I don't care. Have you been drunk for the past two months, too? Is that why you didn't tell me about it? Or maybe you just thought it was best for me to hear about it for the first time in a crowded courtroom, so I could be humiliated in front of the entire world.

I was going to tell you, he said weakly.

Oh, were you? Or did you just think you could sweep this problem under the rug, like you do with all the problems between you and your father? Well, that obviously hasn't worked very well with that relationship, has it? And it won't work with me anymore, either. What you and Gina did is bad enough. But keeping it from me is unforgivable, she said, then closed up her suitcase and bolted out the bedroom door.

He stepped out of the way, then followed her down the hall. Cindy, you can't leave.

Just watch me, she said as she opened the front door.

I mean, you can't leave town. You're still under the trial subpoena. It's possible you could be recalled as a witness. And if you don't appear, you'll be in contempt of court.

She shook her head in anger. Then I'll just move into a hotel.

Cindy -

Good-bye, Jack.

He searched desperately for something to say. I'm sorry, he called as she headed down the front steps.

She stopped and turned around, her eyes welling as she looked back. I'm sorry, too, she said bitterly. Because you ruined it, Jack. You just ruined everything.

He felt completely empty inside, like a lifeless husk, as he watched her toss her suitcase into the car and pull out of the driveway. He tried to feel something, even anger at Gina. But another voice quickly took over. He could hear his father repeating that lesson Jack had never seemed to learn as a boy, probably because Harold Swyteck had tried so hard to teach it to him. It was the same lesson Jack had fired back at his father the night Fernandez was executed. We're all responsible for our own actions, Jack could hear his father telling him. The memory didn't help Jack with his sense of loss. But somewhere deep inside, he felt a little stronger because of it.

I'll always love you, he whispered over the lump in his throat as Cindy drove away. Always.

Chapter
38

Harry Swyteck received a full report on the day's events in his Tallahassee office. Gina's testimony was the first he'd heard of Jack's stalker. While the rest of the world took the story as Jack's motive to kill Eddy Goss, he saw it differently, because he also had been harassed before the murder - and he, too, had believed it was Goss.

His first instinct was to make a public statement, but it was quite possible that going public with what had happened to him could strengthen the case against Jack. From the jury's standpoint, evidence that both Swytecks were being threatened would only double Jack's motive to kill Goss. And even telling Jack wouldn't be wise because he'd have to divulge everything he knew when he testified in his own defense.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. This just came, his secretary said as she entered his office, handing him a large, sealed envelope. I didn't want to interrupt, but the courier said it relates to your son's trial.

Thank you, Paula. It was a brown envelope, with no return address. He was immediately suspicious. He waited for her to disappear behind the closed office door, and then he cautiously slit the seal with his letter opener and peered inside. He paused. Photographs - again. He feared it was more of the same horrible photographs his blackmailer had shown him after his carriage ride in the park. But there was only one photo this time. Slowly, he removed the large black-and-white glossy, then froze. He'd never seen the shot before, but the subject was certainly familiar. It was taken on the night of the murder. It was a photo of the governor walking away from Goss's apartment, after he'd chickened out and decided not to go inside, toting the shoe box full of cash his blackmailer had told him to deliver to apartment 217 at four o'clock in the morning.