The Rose Conspiracy (47 page)

“Anything else?”

“No,” Lord Dee said. “I have been waiting for further instructions but haven't received them yet.”

And then Dee sighed deeply and added, “So—you think me a fool for believing such a metaphysical tale as this, don't you?”

“I wouldn't call you a fool,” Blackstone said.

“Professor, I believe in the mysteries of my ancient predecessors,” Dee said. “And I will spend my very last breath pursuing their hidden secrets…until I find them.”

As J.D. Blackstone climbed into a cab to leave Great Queen Street in London and head to the airport, he had two thoughts. One was profound, and the other much more practical.

I wish I had something convincing, something tangible, to help Dee face his own mortality,
was his first thought.

The second thought dealt with something he had brought with him on the plane flight over to London and had reviewed to help him prepare for his encounter with Dee.

Thank heavens I finally got around to finishing my uncle's book on the Freemasons.

CHAPTER 58

B
y the time that Blackstone arrived at the office from the airport it was noon. He had scheduled a final review of the case that afternoon with Julia and Jason.

The subpoenas had all been served on the witnesses who would testify regarding the glass from Horace Langley's office, as well as the other trial witnesses, Jason told his boss. Blackstone asked Jason to research two more court decisions he might need to finish his trial brief.

After the conversation with Jason, Blackstone met with Julia in the conference room. She reviewed the approach she would use during the penalty phase of the case, if the jury were to come in with a conviction on a death-penalty offense. Julia also went over with Blackstone the voir dire questions she thought should be put to the prospective jurors to ferret out their opinions about the death penalty.

Then Blackstone leaned back in the conference-room chair, nodded to Julia in approval, but said nothing.

“Did you get the crucial discovery you wanted from Lord Dee?” Julia asked.

“Yes,” Blackstone said. “He verified that someone is now trying to extort money from him. I had figured as much.”

“Who are the culprits?”

Blackstone fell silent again. Then after a few moments he finally spoke up.

“I don't want you to be off ended,” he said, “but I think I'm going to
have to keep some things about the guilt phase of Vinnie's case private, even from you.”

“I'm a big girl. I'll try not to feel hurt,” she said. “But I do find it impossible to understand, frankly. Either we are law partners, or we aren't—at least until I make my decision on a departure date from the law firm. I think that is basically the same point you made to me once. That we still are partners for the present.”

“Partnership isn't the issue,” Blackstone said. “Nor is it a matter of competence. I know of no one better I would like at counsel table with me on this case than you.”

“Then what's the problem?” Julia asked, now a little demanding.

“There are some things about the way I am conducting this case that I need to shield you from,” Blackstone replied. “For your own protection. I care about you. Which is why I am trying to protect you.”

“So why does that sound so paternalistic and patronizing?” she shot back.

“It probably does sound that way,” Blackstone said. “And I'm sorry about that. But I know I'm right.”

“You always think you're right,” she said, visibly perturbed. “Which means you always have the power to close the debate on any subject.”

“The subject right now,” Blackstone said, “is Vinnie's defense. On other issues, I am willing to admit mistakes…sometimes grossly erroneous ones. Sometimes idiotic ones. But not here. Not on this one.”

“Because of your feelings about Vinnie? Is that it? You have to be right here, on this case, because you care so much about her?” Julia asked, her face hiding an ocean of emotion.

“Let's get back to the facts and the evidence,” Blackstone said. “We both have some huge distractions at play that could impair our objectivity. Let's not give in to that. Julia, I need every bit of your brains and talent at work in this defense. And if things work out the way I believe they will, then there will come a time when I will call you into my confidence. And when that happens, then you are going to have to give the best legal advice you can give. I will be depending on it. Is that a deal?”

Julia's expression was mingled hurt and confusion. But she nodded yes nevertheless.

With that, Blackstone began focusing on one of the main players in the Smithsonian crimes, Horace Langley.

“Langley's the silent witness here,” Blackstone began.

“Let's not forget the obvious—he's also the victim,” Julia said.

“Elaborate,” he shot back.

“Well,” Julia said somewhat dumbfounded. “It's obvious, isn't it? He was shot twice in the chest. Murdered. No signs of struggle. Not an accident. So it looks like a deliberate assassination of the secretary of one of America's most beloved and revered institutions. Langley was a nationally recognized scholar. Plus, the Booth diary pages and Langley's notes were stolen. So the crime was a murder-theft.”

“You're the prosecutor,” Blackstone said. “In a few sentences, how do you sell this case to the jury in closing arguments?”

Julia didn't miss a beat.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,” she said without taking a breath and staring directly at Blackstone, “this was a crime of cold, deliberate intention and malicious murder. Horace Langley, one of America's most honored scholars, was most certainly the innocent victim here—shot down without pity or hesitation as part of a conspiracy to obtain the John Wilkes Booth diary. But he was not the only victim. His family lost a husband and father. His family was victimized. But even beyond that, the Smithsonian Institution has lost its chief executive officer and has also lost one of the most significant historical documents in post–Civil War American history. For those reasons, all America has been victimized.

“And in a moment I will remind you of all of the evidence that proves beyond a reasonable doubt why Vinnie Archmont was a key member of the conspiracy that assassinated Horace Langley just as surely as another conspiracy assassinated Abraham Lincoln nearly one hundred and fifty years ago and, in a way, victimized America's history similarly.”

“Good,” Blackstone said. “Well done. Exactly the same way I would have played it too.”

“So what was the purpose of that little exercise?” Julia asked with bewilderment. “The point is that Horace Langley is a victim—right?”

Blackstone smiled one of his secret smiles.

“A victim?” he asked. “Clearly. But what kind of a victim? Let's just review some of the facts we now know about Horace Langley. He was a scholar with a specialty in seventeenth-century English history. He also was an avid aficionado regarding the American Civil War. Tully called me the other day and explained that Langley owed some sizable gambling debts. Next, we learn that Langley visited Savannah, Georgia, at some point within the weeks leading up to his death. My guess was that his trip was for the purpose of doing some research. Savannah, Georgia, in Freemasons' lore, was the birthplace of the American brand of speculative Freemasonry.”

“Yes,” Julia replied, “but we have absolutely no proof that Horace Langley was even a Freemason, do we?”

“Oh, I'm satisfied he was never a Freemason,” Blackstone said confidently. “But in any event, it is further interesting to note that the recent extortion letter to Lord Dee was mailed from Savannah, Georgia.”

“Not by Langley, obviously,” Julia said. “He was dead by then. So who mailed it?”

“The same person, or persons, who masterminded the Smithsonian crimes.”

“And that would be—” Julia started to say.

“Exactly what I can't tell you right now,” Blackstone said. “You'll just have to trust me.”

Julia had several clever retorts to that, but decided not to use them. Instead she simply asked if there was anything else he needed from her.

“Get some rest tonight, and a good sleep,” Blackstone said.

“You too,” she said as she got up from the conference-room chair.

Fat chance of that happening,
Blackstone thought to himself. “See you at the federal courthouse at eight tomorrow morning,” he said as she was leaving the conference room. “And please bring Jason along to help carry the files.”

Blackstone caught up on a few details on some other cases. Then he sent a memo over to the dean of the law school regarding the fall term, as summer was coming to an end.

By late afternoon, he had left the office and headed over to the federal detention center to meet with Vinnie.

Blackstone had lost track of the number of criminal clients he had
met with on the eve of trial. They would handle their anxieties differently. Some retreated into a quiet, reclusive shell. Others became talkative and overblown. A few would manage a sense of bravado. But they all had one thing in common: the ever-present feeling of dread that, by the time that the jury stepped out of the jury room to announce their verdict, their lives might be irrevocably changed.

Vinnie was visibly nervous. When he greeted her in the jail interview room and took her hand, it was ice cold, and she was shaking. She pulled herself into his chest and wrapped her arms around him for nearly a minute. He finally pulled himself away gently and motioned for her to sit down in the plastic chair across the table from him.

“I want to walk you through the process for the trial tomorrow,” Blackstone began. With that, he described when the case would begin. How the U.S. marshals would bring her into the courtroom. She said she had a nice outfit to wear for the trial. Blackstone said that was good. He said the large jury panel would report to the courtroom, and then would be sequestered into another room while the lawyers argued about “some preliminaries.”

“What kind of preliminaries?” Vinnie asked. “Can you explain that all to me?”

“I've filed a motion with the court that needs to be heard before the trial,” Blackstone answered.

“A motion?” she asked.

“Yes,” Blackstone replied. “It has to do with a missing piece of evidence. A drinking glass from the crime scene that appears to have been misplaced by the prosecution.”

Vinnie nodded at that, and managed a smile.

“Do you have any questions about that—about the missing glass business?” Blackstone probed.

“No, thanks,” Vinnie said, responding with another smile.

Blackstone was studying his client very carefully. He didn't miss a thing.

He then described what would happen if his motion was not granted by the trial judge. How the voir dire questioning of the jury would be conducted. After selection of the jury, the prosecution would give its opening statement, followed by the defense opening statement. Then
the government would begin presenting its case. When the prosecution rested, the defense would begin its case.

“Will I testify?” Vinnie asked.

“I am thinking not,” Blackstone said. “But we can discuss that later, during the trial.”

Blackstone described, slowly, in painstaking detail, the process by which the government lawyers and the defense lawyers would submit suggested jury instructions to the judge. The judge would decide which ones to read verbally to the jury. Then would come closing arguments and the government's chance at a final rebuttal argument, and then the case would be in the hands of twelve jurors to deliberate and decide.

“If you are convicted on a charge that carries a capital penalty—in other words, death by execution,” Blackstone said, “then we will have to proceed to the death-penalty phase of the case. It is important that you ask me any questions you have on that.”

Vinnie's eyes widened and, momentarily, she seemed breathless. When she regained her composure, she answered.