The Charity (53 page)

Jessica could contain her anger no longer. She backed away. “What the hell is this? What is going on with you?”

“Jessica, listen to me. I had to talk to you before you got to the station.”

“Talk? What is there to talk about? What? Do you want to gloat at how clever you were to track me down? It must be a real coup for a two-bit hillbilly cop from the mountains of Kentucky to track down the, what is it they call me? Oh, yeah. The Murdering Heiress.”

Michael barely flinched at the attack. “Listen to me. There is more going on with this than you know.”

“Don’t be a fool. What the hell can
you
know about this? All you care about is being a hero bringing a fugitive from justice to face her future.” Contempt edged her words. Her fury and frustration snowballed upon each other in at last having an avenue to vent. “I can’t believe you called in the press cavalry the way you did. You’re nothing but a glory seeking jerk.”

“Stop it! You have to be arrested for the murder of Gus Adams and placed into high priority protective custody. It’s the only way you will be able to stay al—”

“What? I did
not
kill Gus Adams! You have no idea what happened. Do you think I would be crazy enough to come back here if I was
guilty
? Do you even think for one minute that I would stick around Boston after my face was on the cover of every newspaper and news broadcast if I had a choice?”

“You confessed.”

“I did
not
confess to killing Gus. I... I might have said it was my fault. It... it was but I couldn’t stop it... any of it. That’s why it’s my fault.” Jessica was exhausted and confused. She knew she had to get herself together. And quick.

“Then why did you come back?”

“I came back here to find out what happened, and that’s exactly what I did. I did not kill anyone. And I can prove it.” The last words were spoken as a direct challenge to him.

Michael’s jaw betrayed the tension he was trying to hide. “I know you’ll find this hard to believe, but I believe you when you say you are innocent. Jessica, we don’t have time to argue, you have just got to trust me when I tell you that you must be incarcerated and that you cannot talk to anyone about what you think you know.”

Jessica shook her head. “Wait a second. Let me get this straight. You want me to go to jail for a murder you say you know I did not commit. You just want me to
trust
you and keep my mouth shut about any information I may have that will prove my innocence. That seems like a pretty wild concept. Why should I trust you?” Her eyes were wide with mock disbelief.

“You have to. Your life depends on it.” He paused and tried to find the right words. “I can’t explain. Not yet, at least.”

His words were met with a blast of disgust. “You want me to believe that you are interested in keeping me alive?” She stifled a laugh. “If you were interested, then you never would have come after me to begin with. I think you know as well as I do that I’m a dead woman as soon as I step into that police station.” She memorized her surroundings and began to pace back and forth.

“I know about the Charity.”

Jessica spun around and faced him. “What about the Charity? What do you know?”

Michael watched her reaction carefully. He did not respond.

“Just who is it that you are trying to protect? Me or them?” She paced around in a circle and stood by the door.

“Listen to me. I don’t want to see you get hurt. That cowboy of an attorney is using you. His eyes are on the Governor’s office. The best thing for you to do is to drop out of sight. Right now, jail is the safest place for you.”

Jessica looked at him. “Let me get away, Michael. Please. I just have to hide a little while longer, then this should all be over with. Shea says th—”

Anger crept to his surface and he struggled for control. “
Damn
Shea, Jessica! He’s not watching out for you. You’ve got to get to jail and I have to be the one behind your arrest.”

Jessica began to turn to voice her attack. “You must think I’m an idiot. I—”

The sharp sound of ice falling off the roof grabbed Michael’s attention. She did not waste a second. She dashed for the door and thrust her body against its thick metal frame. It was much heavier than she anticipated. The miscalculation cost her precious moments.

Her feet slipped on the icy walk as she tried to pick up speed in her escape.

“Freeze!” The booming command was followed by the tight metal clicks of the Glock being readied to shoot. She felt the cold chill of imminent death. Defiantly, Jessica obeyed and turned around.

Michael stood crouched with his arms extended. Both hands were wrapped around the black metallic gun. Jessica stood still, staring down the chamber of the Glock.

“You’d kill me for my silence, wouldn’t you.”

He did not respond. His eyes left her for only a second as he watched the patrol car pull into the school’s lot.

The tall sheriff walked over to her and quickly re-cuffed her wrists. This time he squeezed them on much harder than before. Jessica refused to give him the satisfaction of a flinch.

“Coward.” She spat the word at him as the other officers approached.

When he turned to look at her, Jessica could hardly recognize the man she once almost thought of as a friend. His face was set in a firm mask. Whoever he really was remained deeply buried inside.

After having coffee with Abbey, Shea grabbed a few spare minutes to shave and put on a fresh shirt from the supply he kept in his office. The rough edges of sleep deprivation were brushed away with the energy he gave to his task. The adrenaline sharpened his mind and the caffeine helped propel him forward. Abbey was by his side. He made a mental note to write her a good review.

He and Abbey spent most of the morning making frantic telephone calls and emergency trips to court. The proceedings were within a hair’s breadth of being postponed because of the storm. They had argued forcefully that any postponement would be highly detrimental and that justice required a speedy resolution of the matters at hand. They were relieved when the court clerk came back to report that the proceedings would occur as planned and as amended by the prosecution.

Trying to get to the courthouse was treacherous, and not just because of the piles of snow which now lined the city streets. A group of reporters descended upon them as they sloshed their way there. This case was newsworthy from several angles, and the aggressive reporters were hungry for every one of them. Camera flashes popped in Shea’s face and the large single eyes of several video cameras focused in on him with the unnerving concentration of a cyclops. Microphones were shoved in his face and reporters jockeyed for position to shout their questions and to make their inquiries.

“Shea! What is your position on the Murdering Heiress? Why haven’t you taken any action on that case?”

“There have been rumors that you have been in contact with Jessica Wyeth. Can you confirm or deny them?”

“How do you think the murder case of Gus Adams will advance your career?”

“How do you feel about letting a murderer get away from you when you were a junior detective assigned to the case?”

The more persistent reporters were answered with a terse “No comment” as he continued fighting his way into the courthouse. Once at the top of the snow-covered steps, he paused and addressed the reporters. He chose a vantage point where he would be seen easily by most of his pursuers.

He raised his hand to indicate he wanted to make a statement. “I have been focusing my efforts in completing the mission the citizens of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts have entrusted me with. You are all aware of my continuing efforts against organized crime in our fair state. Since today is a grand jury proceeding, no reporters will be allowed inside. I will address your basic questions and concerns about this proceeding now. After the session is complete today, I will be ready and able to respond to each and every one of you in more detail.”

“What’s the point of today’s proceeding?”

“The purpose of the grand jury is to hear the evidence gathered thus far by the prosecution to determine whether there is enough probable cause to justify an indictment and further proceedings on the case’s merits.”

“This isn’t a trial?”

“No. If there is a determination of probable cause that a crime or crimes were committed, then the defendant will be indicted and the case will be sent to trial. There, the jury and judge will decide the guilt or innocence of the party to a legal standard of beyond a reasonable doubt on all criminal charges.”

“What can you tell about the defense strategy you expect today?”

“Any defense strategy cannot do a defendant a lot of good. Remember, today’s proceeding is to determine probable cause. The defensive counsel is there only to preserve the defendant’s rights, not to defend against charges. Having a defense team assembled before a grand jury is a pure case of overkill, but the fact that having one does make for good drama is not lost on the defendant, or press.” Shea heard a slight ripple of laughter that told him his session was going well.

“Won’t they question witnesses?”

“Even though witnesses may be called and evidence presented, there is no opportunity for the defense to cross-examine such witnesses or to mitigate evidence. As I said, a defense attorney’s role at this proceeding is more for the record and preserving the rights of the accused than any real advocate role.”

“You’re saying that it’s hopeless for Mr. Connaught to try to defend himself today?”

“No. I am not saying that at all. I’m saying that during the entire
trial
process a phalanx of attorneys for the defense could be extremely helpful. In fact, I’m somewhat curious to see what kind of jury consultants and defense strategists Magnus’ money will buy.”

A lone figure raced up to the gathering of reporters on the steps. At first, Shea allowed himself to hope that it was Jessica. But he knew better. He waited as the breathless courier gave papers to one of the reporters. He recognized the woman reporter from the news reports on Coogan’s death and funeral.

Colleen Shaunessy-Carillo jumped to the front of the pack of reporters. “Attorney General Shea! WBZ-TV news has it on good authority that the complaints to this proceeding have just been amended to include conspiracy and accomplice to murder charges for the Gus Adams’ murder. Is this to say that you no longer believe Jessica Wyeth is responsible for Mr. Adams’ death?”

Shea looked calmly at the reporter. He liked her. She was good at her job. “No comment.”

“If Mr. Connaught is indicted on all counts, won’t there then be two people under suspicion for the same murder?”

“No. No two people can be indicted for the same crime.”

“Sir!” Colleen was not going to give up so easily. She smiled at the ripple her scoop caused among the other journalists. “Doesn’t this shift in strategy confirm that you have been in contact with the fugitive?”

“No comment.” Yes. She was very good.

The other reporters joined in on the feeding frenzy of the breaking story. Many pressed fingers up against their ears straining to hear the commands from their producers being transmitted to them through tiny earphones. In unison, they forced themselves further up the steps.

Shea backed away toward the doors. “Please! I will have a statement after the proceedings. Until then, no comment.”

He was accustomed to these impromptu courthouse step news conferences. He knew he would appear relaxed and in control when his image was beamed into every home during the six o’clock news.

Settling into the courtroom, he adjusted his files and checked the large wall clock. Roman numerals made the time of nine thirty seem oppressive. Nothing more could be done in preparation for this moment, except connect with Jessica. He was ready. He wondered where she was.

The bailiff delivered Magnus Connaught to the defendant’s table with actions that told onlookers this was just another day on the job. Magnus seated himself in his bare wooden chair with ceremony that hinted at invincibility. He was immediately surrounded by his full arsenal of defense attorneys. Five figures in hand-tailored suits huddled together. They stood with their shoulders down and back, faces hidden behind masks of relaxed congeniality while carefully scored laughter emanated from them. Their performance had begun.

The defense team was exactly who Shea thought he would see from MacCormack and Wood. On one case or another, each of them had opposed him over the years while he built the precedent trail. Today was the day he was finally going to use it to nail Magnus’ coffin shut. Here they all were, clucking around their charge like mother hens. None of the attorneys even bothered to acknowledge his presence.

There was another rustle in the courtroom as the twenty-three member jury filed into its assigned box. Shea liked the look of them. They were a range of people from the different neighborhoods around Boston. All of them wore the expression that said they were there to take their job seriously. No courtroom antics would be tolerated.

Abbey swept into the courtroom and thrust a rumpled note into Shea’s hand.