Witness to a Trial: A Short Story Prequel to The Whistler (Kindle Single) by John Grisham

Author:John Grisham [Grisham, John]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group
Published: 2016-09-26T16:00:00+00:00

8

The eighth witness called by the State was Digger Robles, another jailhouse snitch. His criminal record was not quite as impressive as Todd Short’s, nor was his body art. He, too, wore a white shirt with a high collar and long sleeves; indeed, it was identical to the one worn by Short. Swoboda gave a passing thought to asking Digger if Wag Dunlap had found the shirts on sale. Almost all his tattoos were hidden, though one managed to crawl up his neck and evade the collar. Nonetheless, Digger cleaned up nicely and managed to seem relaxed as he prepared to unload an hour’s worth of fiction to the jury.

The only truth he told was his recollection of his two criminal convictions, three years in prison, and struggles with meth. Wag breezed him through these trifling preliminaries as if they were of absolutely no consequence. Then on to the story—and the truth! In testimony that was remarkably, and at times astonishingly, similar to Short’s, he told in great detail of his brief incarceration with Junior. The man was proud of what he had done. He had caught them in his own bed, popped them twice, stood his ground, and what the hell was the State of Florida doing dragging him to jail and to trial? If it had happened on Indian land, Junior would be hailed as a hero. He had shown not the slightest hint of remorse.

Swoboda leaned over to his client and asked, “Remember him?”

Junior whispered, “Maybe.”

On cross-examination, Swoboda managed to land a few punches when he haggled with Digger over his motives. If he had not been promised something, why was he testifying? Digger said he really didn’t want to testify, didn’t want to get involved, but he was an important witness because he had heard damaging comments. Swoboda reminded him that he’d spent considerable time behind bars and asked if he had ever heard anyone else admit to wrongdoing. When Digger said no, several of the jurors shook their heads in disbelief.

But, on the whole, it was a fine performance. When Digger left the witness stand, Wag Dunlap announced, “The State rests.”

—

The Spectator. He came and went throughout the trial, always choosing a different seat and always with a different look. He changed caps, eyeglasses, clothing, even shaved a full beard after the first two days of testimony. He skipped a few hours here and there, then half a day, then showed up dressed in leather. Not a single person in the courtroom knew his name and no one noticed him.

His name was Delgado, and he worked for a tight and well-organized gang of career criminals determined to build a casino on the Tappacola reservation. His duties varied, but his value to the gang centered on his talents with firearms and his ability to eliminate people without leaving a trace of evidence.

As the trial unfolded, Delgado marveled at the State’s case and its incompetence. Unger’s autopsy had been hurried and sloppy. And why not? The causes

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