The Father's Son by Peter McPhie

Author:Peter McPhie [McPhie, Peter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780995287754
Publisher: Colonsay Corporation

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

MADELEINE AND CHRIS ate breakfast on the floor in the family room as Madeleine watched the morning news.

The anchorwoman announced, “The trial of Lorenzo Marza is in its third day.” A picture of Marza flashed on the screen, bull necked, a smug expression. “He’s charged with the murders of Ted Filion and five-year-old Samantha King.” A picture flashed of a bright eyed, wide-smiling little girl with a front tooth missing.

Madeleine stopped eating. The anchorwoman had a halt in her voice, “She was walking with her mother… and was killed instantly by stray bullets. In other news…”

Madeleine shut off the TV and stared at the blank screen for a moment. She glanced over at Chris who had not seen any of it, intent only on his cereal. She reached over and gave him a hug. He giggled at her surprise squeeze, trying to balance the milky cereal on his spoon.

“Don’t squeeze me, Mom. I don’t want to get it on my pajamas.” He pointed to his primary yellow pajamas. “My teacher said yellow is sunshine.”

Madeleine said, “And happiness and warmth. When you were little, you couldn’t say ‘yellow’. You said, ‘Yeyow. Yeyow’”. She poked him as she said it, making him squirm.

*

The courtroom was filled with spectators and the press, the tension in the room palpable. All eyes were on the witness, Mr. Fleming, whose strain was obvious. He traced a nervous finger along the wood trim of the witness box.

The DA was on the edge of open anger. Fleming was, after all, the key witness for the State. But he was not cooperating. The DA had stood ever closer to Fleming during the questioning and was now only two feet from him.

Marza looked on calmly, his eyes never wavering from Fleming.

The DA leaned in at Fleming. “Mr. Fleming, I’ll ask you again. Please look at the accused.” Fleming looked to Marza, but only a moment, his eyes unsteady.

The DA said, “Tell me whether he is the man you saw brandishing a machine gun.”

Fleming’s eyes flickered. Marza continued to look steadily at him. There was no threat to Marza’s gaze, only cold composure. Fleming’s eyes darted to a young couple, the parents of the deceased young girl. They tightened their handholding and watched Fleming, their faces showing terrible strain.

He looked back at the DA, his eyes imploring him not press further. The DA folded his arms and pursed his lips and waited.

Fleming was apologetic. “I just can’t be sure now.”

The DA fired back, “Mr. Fleming, you’re under oath!”

Fleming swallowed. “I know.”

“Look at the accused, Mr. Fleming. How far away is he?”

Fleming hesitated and said uncertainly, “Thirty feet?”

The DA was exasperated. “Yes, Mr. Fleming! Yes! About as close to you as the man you saw fire the gun!”

Fleming blurted, “but it was dark, and I was badly shaken that night. I could be mistaken. I just can’t be certain. You can understand.”

Marza’s defense counsel rose to his feet, holding both of his hands in the air and shaking his head. “Your Honor, I have been patient.

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