Let Me Call You Sweetheart

33

Sandwiched between his two attorneys, Robert Kinellen and Anthony Bartlett, Jimmy Weeks sat in federal district court as the seemingly endless process of selecting a jury for his income tax evasion trial dragged on.

After three weeks, only six jurors had been found acceptable to both prosecution and defense. The woman being questioned now was the kind he most dreaded. Prim and self-righteous, a pillar-of-the-community type. President of the Westdale Women’s Club, she had stated; her husband the CEO of an engineering firm; two sons at Yale.

Jimmy studied her as the questioning went on and her attitude became more and more condescending. Sure she was satisfactory to the prosecution, no question about that. But he knew from the disdainful glance she swept in his direction that she considered him dirt.

When the judge was finished questioning the woman, Jimmy Weeks leaned over to Kinellen and said, “Accept her.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Bob snapped incredulously.

“Bobby, trust me.” Jimmy lowered his voice. “This will be a freebie.” Then Jimmy glanced angrily down the defense table to where an impassive Barney Haskell sat watching the proceedings with his lawyer. If Haskell cut a deal with the prosecution and became their witness, Kinellen claimed he could destroy Barney on the stand.

Maybe. And maybe not. Jimmy Weeks wasn’t so sure, and he was a man who always liked a sure thing. He had at least one juror in his pocket. Now he probably had two.

So far, there had only been the mention of Kinellen’s ex-wife looking into the Reardon murder case, Weeks mused, but if anything actually went forward with it, he knew it could prove awkward for him. Especially if Haskell got wind of it. It might occur to him that he had another way to sweeten any deal he was trying to make with the prosecution.