Sharkeyes by Diane Marger Moore

Author:Diane Marger Moore
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: TRUE CRIME / Murder / General
Publisher: Bedazzled Ink Publishing
Published: 2018-08-26T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

I HEARD THE judge excuse the jury for lunch and saw them as they silently filed out of the jury box. None of the jurors looked in my direction. The lunch break was going to be longer than usual because the judge had other matters that she wanted to handle before the Wise trial resumed. I sat at our table, sullenly, thinking about what had just happened. Several minutes apparently went by and then Lisa Swaim touched me on the shoulder.

“He could have been worse,” Lisa said, trying to be upbeat. I didn’t respond.

Van Buskirk was sitting beside me and she too was quiet. That would have worried me had I been paying attention. My mind kept repeating some of the incredible things that Tom Leslie had elicited from Dave Lepper. I wondered if the trial could be salvaged.

“Let’s get something across at the market?” Lisa suggested, although she knew that I rarely left the courtroom during a trial. She or Van Buskirk had been bringing me lunch each day from the Market: toasted bagel with light butter and a slice of Swiss.

I needed to clear my head, suck it up, and get on with the trial. The thought of Wise walking free entered my head for the first time since I had asked Poindexter to leave the conference room so many months ago.

“Fuck it.” Van Buskirk said. “Let’s get out of here.” And so we did.

We went downstairs, out the front door, and into a sunny but cold spring day. The courtroom had no windows, none of them in the courthouse did, and so we never knew what we would find outside. Today we discovered the sun, a coldish breeze, and not a cloud in the sky.

“I think Tom Leslie made a few good points,” Lisa continued as we walked across the street. Before Van Buskirk could say (or do) something to Lisa, I responded, “The understatement of the day, Ms. Swaim. Let’s figure out how we’re going to recover from it.”

We walked away from the Market toward Monument Circle and my favorite chocolate shop. The aroma of the homemade candies wafted through the air. You could smell that wonderful scent a block away.

Across the circle from the chocolate store was an Episcopal church with beautiful stained glass windows and the quiet ringing of bells that sounded as if they were on a faraway hillside. I considered how these sounds and smells called to me. I didn’t know which I needed most, a priest or a chocolate bar.

I stopped abruptly, got out my cell phone and called Jim Finneran. “Jim, I need you to come to Indy this weekend. I probably won’t put you on the stand until Tuesday, but we have a lot more work to do. Can you make it?”

Jim and I made arrangements to meet at the prosecutor’s office on Sunday morning. When I hung up I asked Van Buskirk to bring exhibits 38 and 42 to the office Sunday morning for Jim to look at with me.

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