Deadlocked

Chapter 31

Claire and Harry picked up Chinese food, joining Rachel Firestone, Blues, and Mason at Mason's house. Mason caught Harry alone for a moment.

"You get anything on that license plate?" Mason asked him.

Harry fixed him with a bewildred stare. "You don't have enough problems?" Mason didn't answer, holding Harry's look with his own. "I'm working on it," Harry finally said.

They gathered at the dining room table that Mason had shoved into the living room to make way for his rowing machine. Tuffy patrolled the perimeter, sniffing out morsels that landed on the hardwood floor.

Television trucks had lined the curb in front of Mason's house since he got home, broadcasting live reports of the day's events. Mason didn't tune in, disconnected his phone, and let Blues answer the door when reporters knocked. After Blues turned away the first two reporters with a look that said don't come back, the rest retreated to the other side of the street, searching for neighbors who would say they knew all along something was wrong with Mason, which was why they wouldn't let their kids play in his yard or ring his doorbell on Halloween.

By seven o'clock, the last broadcast truck had pulled away. Claire had turned up the air-conditioning, saying they'd had enough heat for one day.

No one talked about the charges against Mason or the rest of the case. No one exchanged high-fives to celebrate the judge's order setting bail at a manageable level. They were having dinner, not a party, sticking close to Mason. They finally ran out of food and small talk, unable to avoid the day's events any longer.

"It's a good thing the bail bondsman likes you," Harry said to Mason.

"I've done enough business with Carlos Guitteriz to support all three of his ex-wives and his six kids," Mason answered.

Harry said, "Carlos cut his fee in half and took an unsecured promissory note for the bail. That's loyalty."

"I thanked him," Mason said. "But I haven't thanked you for taking care of Dixon Smith's retainer," he told Claire. "I'll pay you back."

"I have no doubt," Claire said. "And, if you don't, I know where you live."

"I don't get the part about the stun gun," Rachel said. "How do those things work?"

"It's pretty simple," Blues said. "A stun gun uses compressed nitrogen to fire probes connected to a wire. The probe carries fifty thousand volts and the current lasts for around five seconds after it hits. The victim is incapacitated as long as the charge lasts, but it takes most people a few minutes to recover completely. That's plenty of time for the killer to do what he did. Effective range is about fifteen feet for commercial models you can buy on the Internet."

"Can Lou prove that's what happened? Does it leave a mark on the skin?" Claire asked.

"Usually not," Blues answered. "Maybe a red mark like a small burn, but that will fade pretty quickly. The big drawback is the wire. The killer had to reel it in like a fishing line. When he saw me coming, that probably saved Lou's life. Either I would have caught him or he would have had to leave the gun behind, which would have corroborated Lou's story."

The doorbell rang. Mason's shoulders sagged as he looked at Blues, who eased out of his chair, flexing his hands like he was ready to hang a reporter from the nearest street light. The entryway to Mason's house was an arched vestibule that was not visible from the dining room. Conversation stopped as Blues swung the wide oak door open, closing it with a decisive thud before leading Dixon Smith into the living room.

Smith, still wearing his suit, his tie cinched tightly against his neck, and carrying his briefcase, surveyed the room. Rachel had gathered the empty food boxes, building a pyramid in front of her.

"How come the lawyer never gets invited to the party?" Smith asked.

"You know the answer to that, Dixon," Claire said. "We're only wanted when we're needed. Lucky for you, you're both. Have a seat."

"I may be both wanted and needed, but the Kung Pao chicken is wanted and eaten. Is that it?" he asked, laughing and poking a hole in Rachel's pyramid.

Rachel scooped the remains from one box onto a paper plate, sliding it across the table to Smith.

"No thanks," he said. "I make it a rule never to eat off of paper unless I'm having a picnic, and this case definitely doesn't qualify. Come here, dog," he said, holding the plate for Tuffy who inhaled the scraps, licking Smith's hand when the food was gone.

"So, Dixon," Rachel said. "Don't sugarcoat it. What do you think about Lou's case?"

"If I tell you, am I going to read about it in the morning paper?"

"Not unless you tell someone else," she said. "The paper quit letting me cover Lou's cases a long time ago."

Smith looked around the room, stopping at Mason who nodded his permission, Smith nodding in return.

"Most cases, the defense attorney's job is to make the prosecutor prove his case, not prove the defendant is innocent, just convince the jury that there's reasonable doubt the defendant is guilty. If there's reasonable doubt about guilt, the jury is supposed to acquit. The prosecutor has it easy since most defendants are guilty anyway. Even if juries don't know that, they believe it. And people pay a whole lot more attention to what they believe than what they know."

"That's how most of us go through our whole lives," Claire said.

"Exactly," Smith said. "People don't change when they get into the jury room. Lou already told the cops he shot Sandra and they know the gun was his. So the prosecutor doesn't have much to prove, which means I do. I've got to try Lou's case, Nick and Mary's case against Whitney King, and the original murder case against King and Ryan Kowalczyk."

"Why do you have to do all that?" Rachel asked.

"Juries hate the I-don't-know-who-did-it-but-it-wasn'tme defense. They expect the defense attorney to give them someone else to pin it on. Whitney King is the only choice. If I prove he killed Nick Byrnes's parents, rigged the jury to acquit him, then spent the last fifteen years knocking off the jurors to keep them quiet, then shot Nick and disappeared Mary Kowalczyk to shut them up, the jury will buy that he killed his lawyer and set up Lou to take the fall for the same reason."

"You have any idea how over the top and out of sight all that sounds?" Harry asked.

"That's why I take my fee up front," Smith said. "No offense, Lou," he added.

"Harry's right. It doesn't make sense," Blues said. "King was acquitted of the Byrnes murders. He could take out an ad on a billboard admitting he did it and never do a day in jail. A civil case is just money and he has enough to make that go away."

"Dixon, are you trying to make me feel better?" Mason asked.

"Nope," Smith said. "I'm trying to get you ready for work. Party's over," he said to the others. "It's time for my client to come to Jesus."