Murder One

45

THE JURY WAS NOT alone in having stunned expressions plastered across their faces. Everyone in the courtroom—spectators, witnesses, and workers alike—evinced equal surprise. Half the reporters in the press row leaped to their feet and headed toward the back, cell phones in hand, to phone in this latest development. The judge pounded his gavel furiously, trying to bring the courtroom back to some semblance of order.

“If I don’t have silence I’ll clear the courtroom!” he bellowed. A few moments later, Judge Cable peered down at the witness, his face a mixture of suspicion and concern. “Young lady, do you realize what you’re saying?”

“I do, your honor. But it’s true. I couldn’t say so before, but now that Kirk’s gone, I have to be honest. I don’t want to go to prison for something I didn’t do, and I don’t want Andrea McNaughton to go to prison for something she didn’t do, either. It was Kirk, God bless his soul. Kirk did it.”

Ben returned to his position behind the podium to continue the examination. “Keri, perhaps you could step back a bit and explain to everyone exactly what happened. After Andrea McNaughton left your apartment. The night Joe was killed.”

“Joe showed up at my place about an hour after she left. About midnight? Apparently Andrea’d gone home and pretty much read him the riot act. Left him with no choice. I don’t think he wanted to break it off—not yet, anyway. He figured he had several more months of… using me… before he’d have to end it. But Andrea forced his hand. So he came over and told me in no uncertain terms that he was ending it. That it was over. That there would be no marriage. That I would never see him again.”

“And how did you take this news?”

“Not well, obviously. But my reaction was nothing compared to Kirk’s.”

“Please explain.”

“Kirk was still there, and he was a little high from that encounter with Mrs. McNaughton. Ever since he tossed her out of the place, he’d been badmouthing both of them, really working up a froth. You see—Kirk and I were very close. Always have been. And he was very protective of me. He considered it his job to take care of me. And one other thing you should understand—just as I looked forward to marrying Joe, as much as I saw it as my salvation—so did Kirk.”

“Had Kirk had any history of … emotional problems?”

“Oh yes. That’s why he was thrown out of high school. He’d been picked up by the cops a few times, back in Stroud, for vandalism and other minor offenses. I knew he needed help, but how could we afford that? We could barely afford to eat.” She drew in her breath. “He had a hyperparanoid feeling that everyone was out to get him—or me. And he had a lot of … sexual issues, too. I never understood if he was gay or bi or what exactly—and I don’t think he did, either. He was confused. Add in all our other stresses and you had a bad situation. Much as I loved Kirk—he was very sick. And when Joe waltzed in and told me it was all over—well, that was just the end. He snapped.”

“Did he attack Joe at your apartment?”

“He tried. We all struggled for a while. I imagine that’s when Joe got my skin under his fingernails. But Joe was bigger and stronger and a much better fighter. Joe pushed him away and made his exit.”

“What happened next?”

“Kirk had a total breakdown. I mean, I’d never seen him like that before in my life. He was screaming uncontrollably. ‘No one treats my sister like that! You turned my sister into a whore!’ Crazy stuff. Crazy. And then he looks at me, with the most horrible expression I’ve ever seen in my life, and he says, ‘Keri, I’m going to kill that bastard. I’m going to cut him up until there’s nothing left.’ ”

The emotional stoicism of her previous testimony had disappeared. Keri’s eyes were wide and alive. Her chest was heaving and her hands were trembling. “I tried to stop him, I really did. But there was nothing I could do. He put on a pair of gloves, then ran into the kitchen and grabbed one of my knives. The D.A. was right—it was my knife, and my chains, too. Kirk took them from my bedroom. I tried to block his way, but he was too strong for me, and, and—” Her voice cracked. “He left ranting about how he was going to kill that faithless son-of-a-bitch cop. How he was going to make him pay.”

“Did you call anyone?”

“No. I wish to God I had. But I didn’t want to get my brother in trouble. Even though he’d been convicted of only minor crimes, he had two on his record. You know Oklahoma law—if he’d been convicted again, he could get twenty years. And I didn’t really think he’d do anything. I thought he would cool off in a few minutes, or he wouldn’t find Joe, or even if he did, Joe would be too strong for him. But Kirk must’ve caught him by surprise and—and—”

She broke down, flinging her head into her lap. “Kirk wasn’t a bad person, he really wasn’t,” she said, sobbing. “He was just confused. So confused. But when I heard what had happened, when I heard how violent it was, how the corpse had been mutilated and ‘faithless’ had been written across his chest in blood, I knew it was Kirk. I knew it.”

Ben paused, giving everyone a breather. “When did you last see Kirk?”

“He never came back to our apartment after the murder. And after my first trial, he disappeared altogether—till he turned up on the roof of the Bank of Oklahoma Tower. I think he must’ve been riddled with guilt about what he’d done. And the fact that he’d gotten me in trouble probably only made it worse. It must’ve been tearing him apart.”

“Which is what led him to kill himself.”

She nodded, her head still bowed. “Poor sweet Kirk. He loved me so much. And now he’s gone. Just like everyone else. They’re—they’re—” All at once, she broke down in tears. The emotional wall she had built to get herself through this testimony crumbled, like ancient masonry. All her sorrow came pouring out.

“I have no more questions, your honor,” Ben said.

D.A. LaBelle, however, did.

“Very well,” Judge Cable said, after giving Keri a few moments to collect herself. “Any redirect?”

“Yes,” LaBelle said, stumbling to his feet. Never in Ben’s life had he seen a man look less like he wanted to do a cross-examination than LaBelle did at this moment. Trying to follow an emotional testament like that one—trying to be hard on the young girl who had been through so much—was not a job anyone could envy.

“Forgive me for saying so,” LaBelle began, “but I can’t help but think that this eleventh-hour confession of someone else’s guilt is terribly convenient.” Ben knew he was trying to be obnoxious, but his heart wasn’t in it. “Your brother dies a tragic death, and then, presto-chango, he becomes the murderer.”

“It’s what happened.”

“I find that very difficult to believe.”

“You weren’t there!” Keri lifted her tear-streaked face. “I was. I saw the look in his eyes.”

“And do you have any proof of his guilt?”

“You have all the proof,” Keri shot back, “but you were so determined to railroad me you missed the obvious. You kept saying only one person had access to the chains, the knife. But two people lived in that apartment—me and Kirk. I couldn’t have killed Joe. I wasn’t strong enough to drag his body around and chain him to a fountain. But Kirk was. And he did.”

LaBelle drummed his fingers on the podium. “Forgive me for saying so, ma’am, but as you yourself pointed out, you’ve been a suspect almost since the crime was committed. You’ve been tried, not once but twice for this offense. If convicted you could be executed. If you knew who the killer was, why on earth didn’t you say so before now?”

Keri looked at him, her eyes wide, tears streaming. “He was my brother.”

After that, nothing LaBelle said mattered. He tried to make a few more points, but no one was interested, not even LaBelle. He soon gave up and sat down.

“Very well,” Judge Cable said. “I assume this completes the defense case.”

Ben shook his head. “Not quite, your honor.”

Christina leaned toward him. “What are you saying? Keri’s testimony was great. I think the jury believes her.”

“We can do better,” Ben whispered back.

“Ben, nothing personal, but don’t screw up what we’ve got here. This is the time to submit the case to the jury. If you call another witness, you just risk—”

“We have one more witness, your honor.” Ben turned to face the gallery. “The defense recalls Andrea McNaughton.”