Son of the Endless Night, page 46
After a few moments Tommie Harkrider rose and walked gimpily to the lectern in front of the jury box to begin his opening statement, which would take one and three-quarter hours.
"May it please the court ..."
He spoke without notes. He had long since committed to memory details of Richard Devon's life that even Conor didn't know. This preparedness represented several hundred hours of work by Tommie's team of investigators.
He skillfully drew a psychological portrait of Rich as a street kid, undersized and aggressive in his youth, sometimes hotheaded and impulsive, always argumentative, capable of an occasional violent outburst. He talked about Rich's brushes with the law, and the harsh discipline handed out to him by Conor, who was also a priest and a sometimes fearsome authority figure to the nearly orphaned boy. Tommie dwelled on the fact that although Rich had a conventional Catholic upbringing, he was both attracted to and repelled by his religion, particularly susceptible to nightmares inspired by fears of a hell presided over by devils, a place of everlasting torment. By the time he entered Yale, Rich had fallen away from the Church. Outgrown it. But had he— asked Tommie— been simultaneously released from the psychological chains that bound him, his sense of guilt at having forsaken the faith of his childhood?
At this point Tommie introduced Karyn, and for fifteen minutes he eulogized her with such sweetness and fidelity and deep sense of loss that it was as if he had known her more intimately than her own parents, or the last of her lovers. Louise Vale sat sobbing quietly in her seat. At one point Rich put his hands over his face, gropingly, as if he sought to identify himself through a mask not of his making, then let his hands drop hopelessly into his lap and bowed his head. Tommie spared no details of the love affair between Rich and Karyn: the laughter, the magic, the quarrels. For, as Tommie solemnly pointed out, inevitably there were quarrels. They came from "two different worlds." Rich from the "mean streets of south Boston," Karyn from the "graceful lawns and vistas" of wealthy Rye, New York. Even as intimacy deepened (as Tommie would have it) the distance between them was magnified.
Karyn had had other lovers before Rich. He knew this. But how well had he accepted this fact?
Tommie shook his head somberly and looked at each of the twelve jurors in turn. They were raptly attentive. Not well at all, he said, and turned for a moment, directing their attention to the defendant.
Rich looked at the jurors and then away, seemingly unable to meet anyone's eyes.
Tommie shook his head again, and launched into an account of the ill-fated hours of the January ski vacation that had culminated in the brutal murder. He told the jurors about their public set-to near the lift return at Hermitage Mountain, witnessed by scores of people, including friends of the deceased. Karyn had already expressed misgivings about the relationship to her mother, and then she confided her desire to break completely with Rich to an old flame, Trux Landall.
"A complete break," Tommie said, and paused to let that sink in with the jury. "Karyn didn't want to see Rich anymore. And when he found out— "
He then proceeded to give as chilling a blow-by-blow account of the murder as anyone could dread to hear.
Louise Vale had to be helped from the courtroom by her husband.
Two of the jurors broke down in tears.
The others stared at the defendant with expressions ranging from sullen loathing to naked hate.
Tommie wiped his own eyes with a handkerchief, looked at the bench, gestured like a broken man to Edith Leigh-ton, and sat down to collect himself.
Edith rose slowly from the defense table and walked toward the lectern. She might have had tougher acts to follow, but she couldn't remember when.
She was far too wise to attempt to go against the mood which Tommie in all of his dramatic eloquence had orchestrated. She decided on the instant to go with it instead.
A few scattered coughs in the courtroom; the sounds of charcoal and chalk on sketchpads as the artists along the press row worked at their impressions of the principals of the trial. Edith kept her voice low, so that the jurors would be securely drawn to her as they strained to hear.
"A murder is committed. Terrifying in its irrationality, the almost passionless repetition of blow after blow after blow; murder inhuman, even bestial, in the scope of its violence. And there were five witnesses to this seemingly endless, robotlike assault on a human life. Five young people who watched helplessly while Karyn Vale was bludgeoned to death. We have their statements but unfortunately we don't have them, because of the five only one is alive today, scarcely five months after Karyn Vale herself was laid to rest. The survivor, Warren Hasper, is attending school in Europe and has refused to return to this country to testify as to what he saw because he has admitted he is afraid he may not live long enough to take the stand.
"Afraid!"
"But of what?
"That is a question we must answer.
"Four grotesque, unexplainable deaths of vibrant, healthy young people in such a short period of time cannot be lightly passed off as 'coincidence.' Nor can the disappearance of trooper Norm Granger of the Vermont State Police, one of two policemen who were the first to reach the scene of the murder. Nor can the death by suicide of his twenty-six-year-old partner, Peter Raff, who died the night trooper Granger disappeared.
"Before this trial is over, you will know that his disappearance, the strange deaths, are directly related to the death of Karyn Vale; and you will know why. You will know that the motive for Karyn's death is not the motive so exhaustively suggested by the prosecution. You will know the full, horrifying story of what happened to Richard Devon from the moment he arrived in Chadbury on the night of January eighteenth.
" 'A person is guilty of murder in the first degree when with intent to cause the death of another, he causes the death of such person.' "
Edith indulged in a long and searching pause. But she had them.
" 'Intent to cause,' " she repeated. "I urge you to ponder the meaning of that phrase.
"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, when all of the evidence has been presented to you, I am confident that you will know that Richard Devon not only lacked the intent, but in fact did not kill the girl he loved."
93
"Well," Tommie said to his colleague Jean Landetta, over Drambuie in the cocktail lounge of the inn where they were staying, "she throws a pretty good block, does Edith. I wouldn't exactly say she won the jury back after I got through with them. But she sure as hell has them curious, and maybe a little on edge."
"I still wish we had the last of those kids who saw the murder being committed," Jean said.
"We won't need Warren Hasper. We've got Trux Landall and plenty of other witnesses who will testify that Devon was acting like an animal before and after he killed the girl."
"Do you think Edith will put him on the stand?"
"She practically promised to do that today. She has to. Her bucket won't hold water without him. But it's the old double-bind effect. No matter what kind of tale he chooses to tell, he won't have a shred of credibility left when I'm finished with him."
94
Trux Landall was the first witness called by the state the next day.
In contrast to Rich, who looked jail-puffy around the eyes and fidgeted as if demoralized at the defense table while Trux took the stand, the Harvard Law student cut an impressive figure. His French blazer and tie were impeccable. He'd just returned from a few days' loafing in Virgin
Gorda, and his eyes, enhanced by a deep water tan, gleamed in his good-looking face.
"Mr. Landall," Tommie asked him, "when did you first meet Karyn Vale?"
Tommie, like any good trial lawyer, never asked a question in court unless he already knew the answer. He led the witness through an account of his romance with Karyn and their subsequent parting.
"And the next time you saw Karyn was at Hermitage Mountain on the morning of January nineteenth?"
"Yes, sir, that is correct."
"Were you introduced to the defendant, Richard Devon, at that time?"
Trux glanced to where Rich sat, eyes down. Rich was tearing thin little strips of yellow paper from a legal pad. "Yes, I was."
"What was your first impression of the defendant?"
"He didn't have much to say. Not shy. Just— aloof, like he didn't want anything to do with us."
"Was Karyn happy to see you?"
"Yes, sir, I had that impression."
"How long did you talk to Karyn?"
"Only a few minutes. Then I went with my friends to the lift."
"Did you make a firm date to join Karyn and Rich at a later time?"
"No. It was just sort of, we'll get together while we're up here. That sort of thing."
"Can you tell me what happened while you were waiting in line with your friends for the chair lift?"
"Karyn and, uh, Rich got into an argument. They were pretty loud. She was crying."
"Do you know what they were fighting about?"
"Objection, Your Honor," Edith said. "The witness has said that Richard and Karyn were arguing. May we continue with that usage?"
"Sustained," Knox Winford said.
"Do you know what they were arguing about?" Tommie amended.
"All I heard her say was 'You better just forget about me.' " "Did they reconcile their differences while you were observing them?"
"No, sir. Karyn got her skis and poles from the corral and skied off to the T-bar."
"And did you see Karyn again that day?"
"Yes, sir. A group of us got together at the Frog Prince restaurant. That's in Londonderry."
"Was the defendant with her?"
"No, she was with a couple of girls."
"Did she seem upset that Rich wasn't there?"
"No. She had a good time. She was expecting him, but he just never showed up."
"What happened after dinner was over?"
"We all, uh, went back to the Davos Chalet Lodge. I went upstairs with Karyn, but Rich wasn't in their room. I asked her if they were having problems, and she said, 'Everybody has problems.' We talked for a while, and then I left."
"Did you kiss her good night?"
"Yes. I did. In the hall outside."
"There was no impropriety?"
"It was just a friendly good-night kiss. Anyone could have seen us, it didn't matter."
"But it was Rich who saw you?"
"Yes."
"And how did he react? With reasonable behavior, or— "
"Your Honor, I shall object to that," Edith said.
"Sustained."
"How did he react, Mr. Landall?"
"He didn't say a word. He just glared at me, and came at me. Swinging."
"He was violent? He assaulted you?"
"He tried to kick me in the groin."
"How did you react?"
"I didn't want any part of a fight; it wasn't worth it. I said, 'Take it easy, guy,' but he just kept coming at me. Karyn pleaded with him to stop. After he landed a couple of punches— he got me on the elbow, and the shoulder, and also he kneed me in the thigh— I figured I'd better do something to stop it."
"When did you make that decision?" "Well, Karyn grabbed hold of Rich trying to stop him, and he shoved her out of the way. I thought he was going to throw a punch at her— "
"Object to speculation on the part of the witness. We are concerned with what actually did happen, not what might have happened."
"In your opinion, the defendant was out of control— "
"Objection, Your Honor!"
Tommie wheeled on Edith and snapped, "The opinion of the witness, who was brutally under attack, is perfectly valid at this point."
"Overruled. I'll allow it." Winford told them.
"You found yourself taking a beating from the defendant, and were forced to fight back in order to avoid serious injury?" Tommie asked Trux.
"That's correct, sir. I hit him. Just once. A short jab below the breastbone. He folded up."
"What was Karyn's reaction?"
"She was upset. And mad."
"Mad at the defendant?"
"Yes. I apologized for hitting him. And she said, 'He's impossible when he gets like this.' "
"Was the defendant able to talk? Did he say anything to you, or to Karyn?"
"A lot of obscenity. I don't know if I should repeat it verbatim. He accused Karyn and me of— getting it on."
"Having sex together?"
"Yes, sir."
"In fact, you did not have sexual relations with Karyn that night?"
"No, I didn't."
"Did the defendant say anything else before you left?"
"Yes. He said, 'I'll get you for this.' "
"To whom did the defendant say 'I'll get you for this'?"
"He said it to Karyn."
Tommie paused and strolled to the jury box, looking at each of their faces like a beneficent old uncle. He was terribly fond of them all, and let them know it. And he was becoming intimately familiar with every detail of their faces, their unconscious idiosyncrasies as they listened to the proceedings. With his back still to the witness stand, Tommie began his next line of questioning.
"When was the last time you saw Karyn Vale alive?" he asked.
Trux described his encounter with Karyn in the tavern of the Davos Chalet Lodge, and their subsequent midnight walk through the snow. He told of her decision to break off with Rich, and her feeling of relief at finally being able to make this decision.
"I walked her back to the lobby of the hotel and said good night. Some of the kids were leaving just then and I got a lift down to the lodge were I was staying."
Trux's voice became strained. He paused for a long time, sniffing, his coppery brightness scuffed and dimmed by tragedy relived, his composure cracking.
"Next morning one of the guys I was bunking with shook me awake. 'My God,' he said, 'my God, Trux. Get up. Karyn's been murdered.' And that's the first ..."
Trux sobbed and put a hand over his mouth. He looked at the defense table.
Rich's head was up. His eyes were on the witness. They expressed a chilling contempt. Edith, seated at the end of the table, did not have to look at Rich to be aware of the evil of Zarach'; it attacked her like a migraine. She was all but blinded.
"No further questions," Tommie said.
Edith, her eyelids fluttering, slumped against Adam.
"Your Honor, may we have a recess at this time?" Adam requested.
Rich turned his attention from the witness stand to the jurors. Smiling. All twelve jurors were appalled and angered by this show of heartlessness.
"Stop it," Edith murmured. She pressed a hand against the top of her forehead, thumb and forefinger on her temples.
"We will have a fifteen-minute recess," Judge Winford announced from the bench. To Edith he said, "Shall I call a doctor for you, Counselor?"
Edith, with a great effort, straightened in her chair and opened her eyes. She looked momentarily confused, and further confused herself by saying "Thank you, my Lord— I mean, Your Honor. I'll be all right. Just some water."
Tommie, looking on with a pucker of concern, said quietly to Jean Landetta, "She'll never make it through the trial."
The defendant went back to compiling thin strips of paper from the legal pad he'd been destroying. His ardor had dwindled; he showed no interest in Edith's distress. Except for his attention to his strips of paper he seemed close to oblivion.
95
When they reconvened, Edith approached the witness stand with her customary briskness. The milky cast of pain had disappeared from her eyes. She took several seconds to look over the jury, particularly the young woman in the first seat of the second row, behind the forelady.
Angela Gunther was an unmarried dental technician. At twenty-four, she was the youngest of the jurors, and, Edith thought, the most impressionable. It was Angie's first trial. She was excited about it, and very determined to do a good job. So far life had treated her very well. She had a supportive and affectionate family. She "loved people." By her own admission she'd had "loads of boyfriends," but "nothing too serious so far." She had yet to face a major problem or tragedy in her life. She usually skipped the front page of the daily paper if the news looked "real depressing" and concentrated on the advice and social columns.
Angie was one of Tommie Harkrider's favorite jurors, a fact he'd already made apparent by the attention he gave her, but Edith felt that the sharp-eyed barrister had fundamentally misjudged the direction which this good-hearted and uncomplicated girl's sympathies would take. Edith's instinct told her that Angie was still finding it impossible to comprehend how one human being could so wantonly and viciously take the life of another. Nobody she had ever known could do a thing like that. Eventually she would welcome, and stubbornly support, the explanation Edith had to offer.
Right now Edith wanted to reinforce Angie's subconscious bias, and see if she could cast a slight shadow of doubt across the minds of those jurors who were already convinced that Rich was guilty.
"Mr. Landall, when you were awakened in the morning following the death of Karyn Vale, can you tell us what it was you said to your friends once you had been apprised of the shocking details?"
Trux hesitated, thinking, biting his lower lip. "I— I said, 'Only a monster could do something like that.' "
"A monster. Thank you, sir. That will be all."
96
Tommie made sure the jury was aware of every gruesome detail of the murder by calling the county coroner, who came with multiple copies of the autopsy photos to hand out. Edith raised no objection. The recess that followed was much lengthier than the one she had needed during the morning's session.
