"This is not justice!" Kendra was on her feet, blazing like an Amazon. "I am the woman who was with Daniel Monroe when Officer Malloy was killed. I know that he is innocent. I will swear any oath, take any examination, to prove that I am telling the truth. The state will have blood on its hands if Daniel is executed."
"That's enough! Sit down!" the judge thundered, pointing a furious finger at her.
Kendra sat.
Glaring as if she had threatened him with a gun, Giordano said, "I remember you. The girlfriend. No doubt by this time you believe your claim and could pass a lie detector test easily. Your loyalty is commendable, but no less than three eyewitness refuted your testimony, and a loyal girlfriend is hardly the most credible witness."
Kendra opened her mouth to speak again, and Giordano snapped, "Not another word or I'll hold you in contempt! The petition is denied."
Val placed a restraining hand on Kendra's wrist. Her skin tight across her cheekbones, Val said, "I shall pursue this at a higher level."
"Feel free. I doubt you will get a different result." Giordano consulted his watch. "I'm due in court. Good day, ladies and gentlemen."
He ushered all the visitors from his chambers before sweeping down the hall, his black robes billowing like crow's wings. The prosecutor told Val, his voice friendly, "Not bad, but this close to execution, you'd need a smoking gun to make a difference. Next time pick a case you can win." He departed with his junior attorney in tow.
"How can he be so casual, as if this is a game?" Rob asked through gritted teeth.
"To him it is. He played his cards and is happy that he held the winning hand." Val's mouth twisted humorlessly. "It's a lawyer thing."
"What's next?" Rob asked. "Court of appeals?"
"I have a better idea," Kendra said tightly. "The court of public opinion. This is a great human interest story. Now that Jason knows the truth, I can blast it all over Baltimore. 'Local basketball star and straight arrow military cadet's father about to be executed for a crime he didn't commit.' 'Court ignores exonerating evidence.' I can see the headlines now."
"Will Jason mind?" Val asked. "It's an open question whether a media frenzy will help or hinder an appeal."
"I'm not asking your permission," Kendra retorted.
"Don't worry, I won't risk getting you disbarred by putting you in the middle. This is my crusade, and I know a reporter at the Sunpapers who will be glad to get his hands on a story like this during the August dog days."
Val glanced at Rob, her face pale against her red hair. "What do you think?"
He forced his numb mind to focus. "It's worth a try. Judges and governors read the papers, and maybe publicity will flush out more information about Benson."
"It will also flush out more information about you. Your days of anonymity would probably be over." Val's expression was troubled.
He hadn't thought of that. Sooner or later, probably sooner, his identity would become part of this story, along with the details of Jeff's crimes and well-publicized death. Everything would be raked up. His former life, and the way he had run away from it. But it wasn't like he had a choice here. "My privacy is less important than Daniel's life. Do your damnedest, Kendra."
"I will." She gave a swift, dangerous smile. "Val, I'll be out of the office most of the afternoon. I need to visit Daniel and...and tell him the results of the hearing."
Val shook her head. "I'm his lawyer. Breaking bad news is my job."
Kendra started to protest, then accepted Val's argument. "Very well, I'll call my Sunpapers contact, and there's...another person I want to talk to."
"Okay, I'll see you whenever." As Kendra walked away, her strides long and swift, Val turned to Rob. She let her composure drop, revealing anguish. "I really thought we'd get at least the delay, and maybe even get the death sentence commuted."
"You did a terrific job," Rob said. "We knew going in that Giordano was a law and order type. It's obvious now that his standards for granting a petition were impossibly high. Kendra's right. Maybe this can be done through the courts, but maybe not. We need to use any weapons we can find."
Val took a deep breath. "One thing's for sure. None of us are giving up."
"Damned straight." He put his arm around her shoulders. She leaned tiredly into him, her small body soft and vulnerable. If they weren't in the middle of the courthouse, he would do more than hug her. They could both use some comfort.
Though Val had warned him that success couldn't be taken for granted, he had really believed that Cady's recantation would be enough to block the execution, at least temporarily. Now the reality of failure numbed him to his bones. How could a modern, civilized society cold-bloodedly destroy an innocent man?
Daniel Monroe was his chance for redemption. If he failed the other man, he failed himself.
∗ ∗ ∗
It might have been easier if Daniel had raged or cursed Val out. Instead, he simply looked down, the harsh fluorescent lights emphasizing the scar that ran across his skull. "I didn't really expect anything, Miss Val. Like I said the first time you came in here, it's easier not to expect much."
"It's hard to predict how any given judge or jury will act, but I was really hopeful." She still felt the defeat like a kick in the stomach. "But it's not over yet. Giordano is only a circuit court judge. I'll go higher. There's still time."
He shrugged. "Don't kill yourself tryin'. The justice system is like a string of boxcars--real hard to stop once it gets goin'."
"By God, it can be stopped!" she said fiercely. "And it will be even if I have to lay down on the tracks myself."
"If this is about you winnin', go to it," he said with wry humor. "But you don't have to do it for me. I've made my peace, met my son, and said good-bye to the few people still willin' to care about me. That's more than I hoped for a few weeks ago." He got to his feet. "Good-bye, Miss Val. Thanks for tryin'."
He inclined his head with grave courtesy, then turned and left with the guards. Val had never seen such dignity in her life.
As she blindly left the prison, she wondered if dignity was the best one could hope for in a world that seldom pretended to be fair.
∗ ∗ ∗
Kendra drove to the church to pick up a DVD and a photo. After leaving a message for A1 Coleman, the Sun reporter, she e-mailed Jason. "No luck at the hearing, but we're still fighting. Brace yourself--I'm about to go public. Love, 'The Mom.'"
She felt a sting of tears when she sent the message, but she blinked them away. There was no time for crying.
To establish that her quarry was home, she made a quick phone call, then hung up after apologizing for a wrong number. Then she drove out to the Harford County home of Anne Malloy Peterson, widow of Officer James Malloy.
It took the better part of an hour to reach the upscale subdivision set among woodsy green hills. The Peterson home was a pleasant, well-landscaped brick colonial. There wasn't another person in sight when Kendra climbed from the car, but the woman of the house answered the doorbell readily enough. A business suit did a good job of making a black person respectable even in a white-bread place like this.
"Yes?" Anne Peterson's brows drew together. "We've met, haven't we?"
Petite and pretty, she was only a few years older than Kendra. Her light brown hair had streaks of silver and she looked like a typical well-kept, well adjusted suburban matron. But she had the eyes of a woman who had paid more than her share of life's dues. Before remarrying and moving to the country, she had spent ten years as a struggling single mother.
"We didn't exactly meet, but we were connected by a tragedy." Kendra held the smaller woman's gaze. "My name was Kendra Jackson. Do you remember now?"
Anne Peterson looked puzzled for a moment, then gasped with recognition. "Good God, you're Daniel Monroe's girlfriend! We sat on opposite sides of the courtroom every day of the trial." Her fingers tightened on the edge of the door.
Guessing that it was about to be slammed in her face, Kendra raised a hand. "Ple
ase, Mrs. Peterson. I don't want to probe old wounds, but this is critically important. A man's life is at stake. Will you hear me out? Please?"
Reluctantly the other woman stepped aside so Kendra could enter. "Very well, but I can't imagine what we might have to talk about, Miss Jackson."
"It's Mrs. Brooks now." Kendra deliberately avoided the "Ms." she usually used, since she guessed that Anne Peterson leaned toward the traditional. "A couple of years after Daniel Monroe was convicted of murdering your husband, I married someone else."
Mrs. Peterson remained standing, her arms tightly folded across her chest. "Monroe is going to die in ten days. I have a bottle of champagne that's been waiting a long time for this moment."
"Mrs. Peterson, your husband was a hero who died in the line of duty," Kendra said softly. "His murder was a terrible crime that deserves a terrible punishment. But Daniel wasn't the killer, and he doesn't deserve to die. Will you watch a DVD that proves Daniel's innocence?"
The other woman's mouth thinned. "What does your husband think of your running around trying to free an old lover?"
"Like you I was widowed, though at least my husband had the blessing of dying of natural causes. Believe me, Mrs. Peterson, I know about loss, and about being a single mother." Kendra pulled the DVD from her handbag. "You have every right to want justice, but do you really want Daniel Monroe to die if he's innocent?"
"No one wants to see an innocent man executed." The other woman frowned at the disk. "Come on into the family room and we'll take a look at that thing, but it will have to be very, very convincing to change my mind."
Silently Kendra followed her into the comfortable family room that adjoined the country kitchen. Equally silent, the other woman picked up a remote and turned on the DVD player and the big screen television, then handed her guest the control.
Kendra slid in the disk and fast-forwarded to the beginning before pausing at the first frame. The large screen displayed a life-sized Joe Cady, every bone visible under his yellowish skin. "You might not recognize him, but this is Joe Cady, one of the key witnesses against Daniel. This tape was made less than two weeks ago. Cady died this past Saturday." She hit the play button, and Joe Cady began to talk.
Anne Peterson stiffened when she realized what he was saying. Throughout the short tape, Cady looked directly at the camera as he recounted his perjury in short, choppy sentences with long pauses as he gasped for breath.
When the recording finished, Kendra asked, "Do you want to see any of it again?"
"No." Anne slumped onto the sofa, her expression agonized. "You said all along that he was with you, and I thought you were lying. But you weren't, were you?"
"I was telling the truth," Kendra said softly. "Daniel was home the whole evening."
"May the Blessed Mother forgive me," the other woman whispered. "For all these years my...my anger and hatred have been aimed at the wrong man."
A pity that Judge Giordano had been too jaded to believe the plain truth when he saw it. Anne Peterson was more clear-sighted. "You weren't the only one who was wrong. At least now you're capable of seeing the truth. Not everyone is."
"Seventeen years. He's been in prison for seventeen years." Anne shook her head slowly. "What about Omar Benson?"
"You'll be glad to know that he's long dead--stabbed to death in prison about five years after your husband died. It was messy and painful." Kendra pulled out the photo that Rob had obtained and duplicated. "Here's the booking shot for the last time Benson was arrested. Your husband has been long since avenged."
"He looks like a stone killer." Anne's mouth twisted into a thin, hard line. "May his soul rot in hell. Now sit down and tell me why you came out here. Not just to enlighten me, I'm sure."
Kendra sat. "I'm a paralegal now. My boss, Val Covington, agreed to see if she could help Daniel. You see the results, but this tape isn't enough for the justice system. This morning Val asked Frank Giordano, the original trial judge, to commute Daniel's sentence or at least postpone the execution until we could finish investigating Benson. Her petition was denied."
Anne's brows drew together. "Did Giordano see this DVD?"
"He did, but from his point of view, Daniel has had plenty of chances and it's time he was executed."
"But he's innocent!"
"That isn't always good enough." Kendra tried to keep bitterness from her voice. "I plan to go to the Sunpapers and raise hell. It would help if the widow of the murdered man said she believes the wrong man was convicted. Would you be willing to say that to a reporter if one called?"
Anne bit her hp, distress in her eyes. "I really don't want to rake all this up. It hurts too much."
"An innocent man's life is at stake."
The other woman bent her head and ran her fingers through her short, tousled curls. "You're right. As a good Catholic, I shouldn't really believe in capital punishment in the first place, though my parish priest granted me an unofficial dispensation on that after Jim was murdered. All right, if a reporter calls, I'll tell him that I've seen your evidence, and I found it convincing."
Kendra exhaled with relief. This could have gone either way. "Thanks so much, Mrs. Peterson. I know this won't be easy."
"Jim was a great believer in the truth." Anne blinked tears back. "Good luck in saving Mr. Monroe's life, Mrs. Brooks."
"Thank you. We're going to need all the luck we can get." Kendra stood. "The tape is a duplicate. Would you like to keep it and the photograph of Benson, maybe show it to your husband?"
"Please. Bob was a school friend of Jim's. He'll want to see justice done, too." Anne set the photo on the end table and rose to her feet. "Maybe we'll drink that champagne tonight. It's strange to think Jim's killer has been dead for so long. If I'd known when he died, I would have celebrated, but now it's just ashes."
"Ashes is what Omar Benson deserved." Kendra offered her hand. "Thanks again. You're a brave woman, Mrs. Peterson."
"I'm not. But don't most women do what must be done?" She gave a shaky smile as they shook hands.
Kendra drove back to Baltimore feeling a little hope. But only a little.
Chapter 25
Val and Rob returned to the office together. "After I change, I'll try to hunt down more of Omar Benson's associates," Rob said. "Is it okay if I leave Malcolm down here after I walk him?"
"Sure. I'll be glad of the company."
Rob gave her a light kiss, then headed up to his apartment. Val kept a couple of casual outfits in her office, so she swapped her tailored suit for an ankle-length skirt and loose knit top. Long hours of work were easier when she was comfortable.
First on the agenda was phoning Cal Murphy, who, amazingly, was even available. When she told him about the decision, he swore under his breath. "Damnation. Even though Giordano is a hard-liner, I thought you had a good shot at getting at least a short reprieve."
She rubbed the tight knot between her eyes. "Do you have time for me to pick your brain about strategies for the next round? Monroe can't afford the learning curve I'd need to figure out the protocol on this on my own."
"I'll make the time."
Val started taking hasty notes as Murphy rattled off suggestions. They were darned lucky that he was willing to lend his expertise.
In the middle of their conversation, Rob stopped by her office with Malcolm, both of them panting. He wore the kind of shabby garments that meant he'd be visiting some places that might be rather unsavory, especially for a white guy. She blew him a kiss, and a mental wish for his safety.
With his master gone, Malcolm ambled across the office and flopped under her desk. She paused in her note-taking to scratch his neck. He was a good dog. Maybe she should get an office cat to keep him company.
Cal ended his discussion of ways and means with, "Hope that helps. Let me know if I can do more."
"Believe me, I will," Val said. "My assistant, Kendra, intends to persuade the Sun to turn this into a media scandal. Will that help or hinder?"
"Judges a
re very touchy about being coerced, but if enough public heat can be generated, it could help. No one likes to think of innocent people being executed. Too threatening."
"If a reporter calls, would you be able to talk to him?"
"You'd get better mileage out of the guy who prosecuted this case. He's retired now and can say anything he wants. If he agrees there is grave doubt after seeing the statement, it would be a big plus for you." Cal hesitated. "But I'm doubtful that he's changed his mind. The lead prosecutor on this case was a real pit bull."
Val took down the retired prosecutor's name, thanked Cal again, then set to work. Technically she wouldn't be doing an appeal, which was a review of how a trial had been conducted. That had already been done in this case, and the trial had been accepted as fair and correct. Now she was working on collateral challenges, which were done after all appeals had been exhausted. They had new evidence; surely the higher state court judges wouldn't all be so pigheaded.
She went online to a legal database to research; she wrote and took notes, constantly aware that the minutes were ticking away Daniel's life. By the time Malcolm raised his head and nudged her calf with his long hound snout, it was dinner time.
With a sigh, she stood and stretched, then clipped on the dog's leash for a walk. The evening was quiet, the air summer hot and heavy. After the melodrama of the day, the streets were eerily quiet. Normal.
Back in the church, she refreshed Malcolm's water and food bowls, then descended to the basement kitchen to forage. She chose a small tin of chicken salad packaged with crackers. With a glass of milk, it was supper.
While waiting for coffee to brew, she climbed the stairs and drifted through the building. She halted in the door of the sanctuary and raised her gaze to the circular stained- glass window over the front door. Though stained glass had not been a part of the Quaker tradition in which she had been raised, the spiritual energy in this old church often reminded her of meetings.
Callie had been a pagan at heart, but she believed a child should be raised in a religion. Because she deeply admired Quaker values and integrity, she had chosen to take Val to the Stony Run Meeting. The meeting house was on the same campus as Friends School, where Val had been educated.