“Mr. Akers?” The judge, an intimidating, steely-faced, silver-haired man named Robert Barnett, looks over his glasses at the prosecutor, Assistant District Attorney Sebastian Akers. Akers is a tall man with thick dark hair and the clean-cut good looks of a varsity quarterback or presidential candidate. But it’s not just his looks; his presence, too, the confidence, the performance adrenaline; he’s a man who seems to grow a few inches, whose voice lowers an octave, as he stands before a courtroom bursting at the seams with spectators and reporters.
“May it please the court,” Akers says, buttoning his suit coat and positioning himself before the jury box. Fifteen sets of eyes—twelve jurors and three alternates—are fixed on the prosecutor. “Melanie Phillips was one of ours, born and raised in Bridgehampton. She didn’t graduate at the top of her class and she hadn’t yet attended college. But she had dreams. At age twenty, she worked day shifts at a seafood hut and took drama classes at night to realize that dream, the dream of becoming an actress. It may have been unrealistic. Sometimes dreams are. But this is America, and we all have the right to pursue our dreams, don’t we? But Melanie—Melanie never got that chance. Her life, her dreams were cut short when she was brutally murdered, stabbed and slashed over and over again in a rental house by the beach three months ago.”
Akers sits on that thought a moment, shaking his head with sadness. “Zachary Stern,” he says, and the jurors pop to attention again. “Long time ago, Zach had the same dream. He was an actor. Never made it big, but did it for years, a few commercials here, a couple of television appearances there. And when he finally realized that being a movie star wasn’t in the cards for him, he decided to help other people fulfill their dreams. He became an agent, one of the most successful in Hollywood. And one day, while vacationing in the Hamptons, he met Melanie Phillips. He was going to sign her. Would he have made Melanie famous? Maybe. But we’ll never know. Because Zach was murdered along with Melanie.”
Akers turns sideways, so that the jurors can clearly see Noah at the defense table. Akers turns his head toward Noah and raises his arm. “That man, Noah Lee Walker,” says Akers, jabbing his finger at him, “savagely killed Melanie Phillips and Zach Stern in a fit of rage, in the most brutal of ways. He sliced them open and left them for dead.”
Noah shakes his head and locks eyes with the jurors. His defense lawyer said not to respond, to look composed and dignified, but he can’t listen to that accusation without responding.
“It was a crime of passion, a crime of rage,” says Akers. “A crime of jealousy. You see, Noah Walker was in love with Melanie. He didn’t want to lose her to Zach Stern or to Hollywood. No, if you try to leave Noah Walker, this is the price you pay.”
Akers nods to his assistant, who pushes a button. Noah’s lawyer had argued desperately to keep this out of the trial, but the judge ruled against him.
The slide show that pops on the screen shows crime-scene photographs of Melanie, close-ups and full-body shots, her vacant eyes staring into space, her mouth barely open, a dozen cuts from a knife, some of them deeper, some superficial. The photos of Zach Stern aren’t much better, perhaps less graphic but still horrific. The jury recoils at them, audibly gasping and murmuring.
Then the screen goes blank. Akers walks over to the witness stand. “You will hear from people who knew Melanie and Noah. They will sit in this chair and they will tell you about that relationship. They will tell you about Noah’s obsession. They will tell you that Noah couldn’t bear the thought of losing Melanie, that he was insane with jealousy.” Akers walks over to the evidence table and lifts a bag. “You will hear expert testimony that this knife was stained with the blood of Zach and Melanie. And you will hear from Chief of Police Langdon James that he found this knife under a heating duct in Noah Walker’s kitchen floor, along with a charm necklace that Melanie had worn around her neck every day of her life since she was six years old.”
Akers takes a moment, waiting for his conclusion.
“And you will hear something else from Chief James. You will hear testimony that Noah Walker confessed to these murders, that when his guard was down, he admitted killing Melanie and Zach and explained exactly how he did it.”
Akers turns again and points at Noah. “We will prove all of this to you, ladies and gentlemen, that much I promise you. And when this trial is over, we will ask you to give Melanie and Zach the only thing that you can give them now: justice. We will ask you to return two verdicts of guilty of murder in the first degree against Noah Lee Walker.”
In ten minutes, Akers has summarized the whole thing in a way that makes Noah look obviously guilty. Akers has horrified them with the gruesome photos and appealed to their sympathy with the talk of Hollywood dreams dashed. Hell, he’s even made that bloodsucker Zach Stern sound like a swell guy.
Noah sees it in the jurors’ eyes, the way they follow the prosecutor as he returns to the defense table, the way they stare in Noah’s direction with contempt.
He’s going to need a miracle.
16