“Are you saying Billy Byrd might try to kill Dad while he’s in custody?”
“I didn’t say that. But I am saying that if somebody wanted to hurt him, it might not be as hard as it should be.”
If Jewel is worried about this, then the danger is real.
“So whatever stroke the title of mayor gives you,” she goes on, “I’d use it to make sure your daddy’s under surveillance at all times in there.”
“Being mayor of this town is like trying to run a company with Monopoly money.”
She shakes her head sadly. “I can’t believe Quentin hasn’t found some way to spring Doc out of that jail anyway.”
“That’s up to Judge Elder. And Quentin says he’s got something against either him or Dad, but he doesn’t know which, or what it could be. Even Dad claims not to know.”
Jewel is clearly pondering this question. “I never heard much trash about Joe Elder, so I never looked at him too close. He’s from across the river, though, in Ferriday, same as those Double Eagles.”
“But he’s . . .”
“What?” The coroner gives me an expectant look. “B-L-A-C-K?”
“Yeah.”
“Maybe he’s color-blind.”
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe he only sees green.” Jewel gives me a wink. “I’ll ask around.”
I give her a hug, then head for the courtyard gate. As I touch the rusted handle, she says, “I don’t know if you know, but Shad’s about to call an out-of-town witness.”
I stop and turn back. “Who?”
“I don’t know. But he’s an old guy, and he flew in from Ohio.”
“Is he some kind of expert?”
Jewel turns up her palms. “No idea. I’m just giving you what help I can.”
“Thanks, Jewel.”
She blows me a kiss, then picks up her cigarettes and lighter from the table. She won’t leave until I’ve been gone at least five minutes.
After exiting the courtyard, I stand on the sidewalk of Washington and try to decide my next move. If I walk two blocks west, I’ll be at Edelweiss, and I can relate Jewel’s information to Quentin face-to-face. If I walk five blocks east, I can be home with Annie. After a few seconds’ deliberation, I turn east and dial Doris Avery’s cell phone. She answers on the second ring.
“It’s Penn,” I hear her say.
“Is he calling to congratulate me,” Quentin asks, “or to bitch at me some more?”
“Did you hear that?” Doris asks.
“Yep. But I’m not calling to either bury or praise him. This is kind of an emergency.”
I hear a clatter as she hands the phone to Quentin. He protests a little, but at last he comes on the phone. “What is it?”
“You know the county coroner, I believe? Better than most?”
This kills Q’s attitude in a hurry. “I seem to recall that case, yeah.”
“She just passed me some disturbing information, and I’m not talking about your cocksmanship.”
“Let’s hear it.”
As quickly and obliquely as I can, I relate everything Jewel told me about what the deputy overheard, and the conclusions I have drawn. Quentin listens without interrupting, but when I finish, he says, “What do you want me to do with that?”
“I just thought you should know.”
“Well, now I know.”
“Aren’t you pissed off about it?”
“I’m not going to raise my blood pressure over something I expected from the start of this case. Billy Byrd’s the kind of throwback who’d beat a prisoner with a phone book, open his cell, then shoot him in the back and say he tried to escape. Tampering with evidence is nothing to that jackass. And we both know the DA’s not above holding back exculpatory evidence. So, what’s new about this?”
“Well, this obviously means they’re trying to conceal someone’s involvement in the crime. And Jewel says Byrd is tight with Billy Knox.”
“And?”
“Well, that would mean Billy Byrd is up on the stand trying to convict Dad while privately trying to protect a wanted criminal who probably murdered Viola.”
“You’re right. But you’ll never prove that. Whatever hair and fiber evidence supported that is obviously gone. Jewel’s deputy friend isn’t going to testify, so that’s the end of this discussion.”
“But . . . you’re telling me Dad’s definitely innocent?”
“Isn’t that the case I’m making in the courtroom?”
“You haven’t done a goddamn thing in the courtroom!”
“Be patient, my brother. The hardest part of anything is waiting. But my day’s coming.”
Dealing with Quentin is beyond exasperating. “By the way, Shad’s about to call some old guy from Ohio to the stand. Any idea who that might be?”
“Possibly.”
That’s clearly all Quentin’s going to give me.
“Are we through, Penn?”
“No. Jewel’s afraid for Dad’s physical safety in Byrd’s jail. So am I.”
“I’ve thought a lot about that, and I’ve discussed it with Tom. We feel like the isolation procedures are sufficient to protect him.”
“You know that’s bullshit. I think we need to call the state attorney general and have him crawl up Billy Byrd’s ass.”
“Don’t do that, Penn.”
“Why not? At least Byrd would be too scared to let anything happen to Dad under that kind of microscope.”
“Byrd’s already under a microscope. Penn, I’ll be frank with you: this case isn’t about any goddamn hair and fiber. You need to let that go.”
“You don’t know that.”
“You don’t know what I know, boy. Now, don’t talk to anybody about what Jewel said. All you’ll accomplish is to put her life at risk. I’ll talk to your father about the security issue, too.”
“Get back to me after you do. I mean tonight, Quentin. If you don’t, I’m calling the AG.”
“Good luck with that. I’m hanging up now.”
And he does.
Chapter 39
By the time I reached home, I only had ten minutes to gobble down a sandwich and give Annie a hug before it was time to head back to the courthouse. Yet again she pleaded to be allowed to accompany us, and behind her I could see that Mia would give almost anything to attend the trial rather than sit in the house behind armed guards. But after Lincoln’s damning testimony about my father’s secret life, I don’t have to take the heat for refusing. My mother tells Annie she’s absolutely forbidden from attending court.
“Ninety percent of what’s being said in that building is lies,” she declares, and neither Jenny nor I challenge her.
Eight minutes later, Tim delivers us to the courthouse steps, where he turns the wheel over to one of his associates and escorts us through the milling throng to our seats inside.
Serenity has reclaimed her seat in the first row of the balcony; or perhaps she didn’t leave during lunch. If she had, she’d never have gotten that seat back. A pang of guilt hits me for not bringing her a sandwich. As I wave at her, she holds up a brown paper bag and gives me a quick grin.
Of course. Leave it to an ex-soldier to come prepared.
A sudden hubbub tells me Judge Elder is making his entrance. The tall robed figure looks neither right nor left as he makes his way to the bench. Once he’s settled and everyone takes their seats again, he says, “Call your next witness, Mr. Johnson.”