Trial, page 54
Once again, Ford returned to the podium. “There is, Your Honor. Based on the finding of a mistrial, we believe that a second trial would violate the defendant’s constitutional right to avoid double jeopardy. On that basis, we ask that this court dismiss this case with prejudice.”
“Here goes,” Chase said quietly to Malcolm.
Regarding Harris with judicial solemnity, Tilly inquired, “What is your position, Mr. Harris, on whether the prohibition against double jeopardy warrants dismissal of these charges?”
In the silence that followed, Chase heard Malcolm inhale, and saw his son’s eyes close. “Having researched the law,” Harris said wanly, “the prosecution cannot argue with certainty that this court can’t grant a motion to dismiss.”
A glint of humor surfaced in Tilly’s eyes. “Decoding your double negative, is the court correct in understanding that you do not oppose defendant’s motion?”
For a last moment, Harris paused. “We do not, Your Honor.”
Sitting straighter, the judge surveyed the courtroom before addressing Malcolm. “Would the defendant please step forward?”
Malcolm looked startled. Then he collected himself, and walked to the foot of the bench.
“Mr. Hill,” the judge said simply, “the court is dismissing all charges against you with prejudice. On behalf of the justice system of Cade County, we want to express regret about the circumstances under which you were brought before us. You are free to go.”
The courtroom erupted in gasps and cheers. Turning, Chase saw Allie embrace her mother, Janie’s tears of joy and disbelief. Then he felt the dampness in his eyes.
“Sweet Jesus,” Chase murmured to Ford. “You did it.”
“So I did,” Ford answered, and then looked at Chase more closely. “I know,” he said almost gently. “I know.”
Turning, Chase saw Malcolm. Wordless, they looked into each other’s faces. Then Malcolm stepped forward and rested his head against Chase’s shoulder.
It was done.
Leaving the courthouse, Malcolm paused at the head of the steps, drawing a deep breath of chill winter air.
It was almost dusk. He had first arrived here for his arraignment on a rainy summer morning, by his count two hundred and sixty-nine days ago. Every day since had scarred him, for how long and how deeply he could not know. But somewhere in that time, a father had come to claim him.
He stood between Chase Brevard and his mother, with Ford walking beside her, his grandmother beside Chase. As in the courtroom, the cheers of his supporters were mingled with catcalls, though the Parnells and White Lightning were nowhere in sight. “You’ll pay yet,” a hateful voice shouted.
He tried to block it out. Soon, he would see the rolling fields of the only home he’d ever known, the one he shared with his mother; taste his grandmother’s cooking; collapse into his own bed in the room that had been his since birth. Perhaps then it would seem real. Perhaps, in time, he would stop having nightmares, or flinching at sudden sounds. Perhaps, tonight, he would sleep a little.
Between the line of deputies flanking the steps, reporters shouted questions. To one of them, his mother said, “We’ll have something to say tomorrow. For now, Malcolm’s father and I are just grateful that he’s free.”
Surrounded by deputies, the five of them stopped at the foot of the stairs. Facing Chase, Allie told him quietly, “We need to take Malcolm home. I’ll call you tonight.”
Quickly, Chase braced Malcolm’s shoulders. “You should get out of here,” he said. “I’ll see you soon.”
Watching them drive away, Chase stood beside Ford amidst the deputies who Al Garrett had assigned to protect them. Tonight, Chase realized, he would be sleeping alone in a rented apartment where Allie’s clothes hung in the bedroom closet, a remnant of their transient domesticity.
It was done. But Chase had no idea of what would follow. For now, it was enough to see Malcolm walk free.
“Let’s go,” Ford told him. “I’ve had enough of this place.”
PART eight
Beginnings
83
Two nights later, Chase took Jabari Ford to dinner.
His leave of absence was over. There were pressing votes pending in the House, and he had busied himself conferring with his staff and preparing to leave his apartment in Cade County. Tomorrow evening, he would drive to Atlanta, then fly to D.C. the next morning. But he felt suspended between the man he had been and whoever, because of Allie and Malcolm, he might have become. The case had been so consuming, its stakes so visceral, that at times he could hardly believe it was done.
He and Allie had long telephone conversations, much less about their future than Malcolm’s. As best she could, Allie had plunged back into her work while trying to ease their son’s passage to freedom and, in the fall, to Morehouse. He was sometimes restless and distracted, she told Chase. But the familiarity of home seemed restorative. On the first night, Janie had cooked his favorite dinner; afterward, he and Allie had sat on the porch in warm jackets, quiet, simply feeling the land around them. Neither spoke of the sheriff’s deputies at the foot of the road.
Tomorrow morning, Chase and Allie planned to meet, and then he would spend time with Malcolm for the first time since the trial. But there was another person he wanted to see. And so, as on the first day they had met, Ford and Chase commandeered a table at the Winfield Hotel.
Both ordered the same cocktails—a martini for Chase, Maker’s Mark and ginger ale for Ford. As they touched glasses, Ford remarked, “Guess this is better than where we started.”
Chase smiled. “Was there a problem? All I remember is wondering how you could spoil perfectly good bourbon with sugar water.”
Ford’s mouth twitched. “Man, you really are exactly what you appeared to be—an elitist from up north. But at least you turned out to be a halfway decent lawyer.”
“I was OK,” Chase responded, “as long as you made the decisions. On all the big ones, you turned out to be right—keeping the judge, calling Malcolm as a witness, asking for another shot at Spinetta and Garrett. And the way you played Harris in chambers was pretty sublime. I think even Tilly kind of enjoyed it.”
“God knows I enjoyed it. But the truth of things is that all of us owe Al Garrett big-time. After all our great lawyering, that’s kind of humbling to consider.” Ford’s expression grew serious. “I keep thinking about how close we came to having a trial that scrupulously followed the rules of evidence and never got near the truth of what actually happened. Can’t help but wonder where Malcolm would be.”
The thought haunted Chase. “I have no idea. But at least now the Justice Department will zero in on the Parnells, and Bullock’s a philandering bigot instead of a white Christian martyr. I’m hoping that makes Allie and Malcolm a little safer. You and your family, too.”
“Amen to all that,” Ford said fervently. “At least our town fathers won’t be funding a marble obelisk for St. George. I hear the widow Bullock stormed out of court when I dragged the truth about him and Molly out of Spinetta.”
“Fuck her,” Chase replied sharply. “If she could have, she’d have stuck the needle in Malcolm’s arm herself. As far as I’m concerned, she can suffer for the rest of her life, and her evil husband deserves to be dead. I’m just sorry my son has to live with all that for the rest of his life.”
Ford frowned in thought. “Yeah, there’s no erasing what happened to him. The most we could do was get him his life back, and hope he makes good use of it.”
Chase pondered this. “All I know,” he said finally, “is that I’ll do my damnedest to help him.”
Ford was quiet for time, watching the couples and families drifting into the ornate dining room. “So I guess you’re going back D.C. the day after tomorrow.”
“No choice, Jabari. The world keeps spinning and time marches on. That’s what the Fourth District of Massachusetts reelected me to do, and you’ll notice I didn’t say no.” Chase took another sip of his drink. “Speaking of which, there’s something I wanted to mention.”
“Which is?”
“Remember our first dinner, when you were talking about the barriers to your own political ambitions? I distinctly recall you suggesting that I floated into Congress based on one big case and a lot of family money.”
Ford looked up at the ceiling, as if struggling for recall. “I may have said something like that,” he allowed.
Chase smiled. “Something exactly like that, actually. It was one of your least obnoxious moments, because it’s essentially true—leaving out some bursts of hard work on my part. Anyhow, I’ve been watching some cable news the last couple nights, and it’s clear to me you’re halfway there.” He paused for emphasis. “You’re famous, pal. The case you just won makes my prosecution of Joe Kerrigan look like moot court. Find the right district, one the Republicans haven’t gerrymandered to death, and all you need to run for Congress is the money. I’d be happy to save you a seat.”
Ford regarded him curiously. “All I need happens to be the one thing I don’t have.”
“But you could. I’d be more than pleased to talk to our congressional campaign committee, in the unlikely event you even needed my help. You’re such an obvious natural that raising the money should be easy enough.”
Eyes hooded, Ford studied the table. “I’m truly grateful you say that,” he responded at length. “It’s a compliment I don’t take lightly. But I’d have to think about it. Watching what you and Allie went through got me thinking about what’s best for my family. It’s been nice getting reacquainted the last couple days.” His tone became pensive. “Maybe we’d all be better off if I build on the career I already have. That would be trouble enough without putting them all through the meat grinder of politics. Being flayed alive isn’t for everyone.”
Or for most people, Chase thought—another reason, perhaps, that he had never found the right partner. “I understand,” he answered. “Knowing what you have is a sign of sanity. Just let me know whatever you decide.”
“You’re sane enough,” Ford countered. “Thing is, you never had a family.”
“True. Sometimes I wonder about my own choices. But I keep on making them, don’t I? The only one I’m sure I don’t regret is coming here.”
Ford nodded. “So what about the three of you, now?”
It was the question of the hour, Chase thought, perhaps of a lifetime. “I’ve got no idea. I know I want to be Malcolm’s father, if he’ll have me. About the rest, the things that separated Allie and me all those years ago still exist, and time has made them bigger. But after the last nine months, I know for sure that what we had was real, and still is.”
“She does, too, it’s pretty clear.” Ford raised his glass again. “You deserve the best, Chase, whatever that turns out to be. You showed me a lot about yourself by sticking this out. Sure hope you get the good of that.”
84
The next morning, Allie met Chase by the pond. “We always have our places, don’t we?” she said. “Then it was an oak tree in Harvard Yard; now it’s a park bench in Cade County. Every now and then I look at you, and it’s like the time in between just vanished.”
But those years had defined them, she knew, and from his expression so did Chase. “How’s Malcolm?” he asked.
Allie settled down close beside him. “You’ll see. He’s already gained some weight back, and the circles beneath his eyes are fading some. Yesterday his old girlfriend came out for a visit, and they spent a lot of time just talking. But there’s so much still dammed up inside him.” She shook her head. “His personal encounter with justice in America did him harm enough. But for Al Garrett, God knows what could’ve happened.”
As so often, she saw him following her thoughts. After a moment, he said simply, “Electing people like Garrett is what you came back for.”
Once again, Allie found herself wrestling with the complexity of her feelings. “So maybe my work helped save Malcolm. But the fact that he was doing it nearly cost him his life. All I know is, that will haunt me for the rest of mine, and that I’ll be afraid for him, never wanting to say that.”
Chase studied her. “He can make his own choices, Allie, just like you made yours. There’s a whole world out there way beyond Georgia. I happen to live in it.”
She smiled a little. “Oh, I remember. That seems to keep coming up.” She paused “You’d like him to live there, wouldn’t you?”
“I’d like him to try it, if he wants. He might be safer. But whatever happens with the three of us, I want to spend time with him. I can’t help but think it could be good for us both.”
This was hard, Allie thought—for so long she had been her son’s only parent. But Malcolm had always wanted more, and now so did Chase. “I think it would be,” she answered. “When his head clears, I believe that’s what he’ll end up wanting. Anyhow, I mean to encourage him.”
A trace of melancholy entered his eyes. “I’m grateful for that. But why is this beginning to feel like a custody negotiation between parents who are separating?”
“Aren’t we?” she asked, and felt the weight of her own sadness. “Isn’t that what this is about?”
“I don’t know,” he answered. “I wish it hadn’t been then. Does it have to be now?”
Allie looked down. “Back then, would you have come to Georgia with me?”
“Yes. If that was what you needed.”
For a moment, Allie struggled to respond, and then the need to share her own complex truths overwhelmed her. “I don’t know if I can ever tell you how hard this is for me. When you came back, I understood all over again why I’d fallen so much in love with you that spring. I felt lucky to have you back, and to feel who you’ve become. You weren’t here just for me, but for a son you didn’t know.” Her voice thickened. “However terrible our whole situation, I even liked playing house. I’d walk through the door, and there you were. Like those fantasies I used to have.”
“And so?”
“And so, twelve hours from now you’ll be home in Washington, and as banal as it sounds, starting at eight tomorrow morning I’ve got four conference calls in a row.” Fighting back her emotions, Allie took Chase’s hands in hers. “Maybe we were made to love each other, and to have a son. But I’m not sure we were made to be together. You’re a congressman from Massachusetts now, and someday maybe more. There’s nothing you can do in my world, and I don’t know if I can leave it.
“I’ve thought about all sorts of things. I’ve imagined learning to cook Chinese food in the kitchen of your big house in Georgetown. I’ve imagined taking the offers I keep getting to run a civil rights organization in Washington, or accepting a serious job in some cabinet department. But the thing I’ve learned for sure is that I’m not the ideal political wife, or any kind of political wife.”
Pausing, she felt tears surfacing in her eyes. “I tell myself you came here for me and our son, so why can’t I do that for you? But all these months I’ve hated what politics was doing to us, and to Malcolm—all the ugliness, all the dehumanizing lies and invasions of privacy until you feel like there’s nothing left, knowing it will all get worse year after year. For all that I’m out in public, there’s a part of me that needs more space than politics could ever give us…”
“So who says I have to be a politician?” he interjected.
“You, Chase. By running for Congress in the first place. By keeping your career alive. By thinking, like I’m sure you must have since Malcolm went free, that you might still run for the Senate.” She looked into his face. “Tell me you haven’t, and I’ll try to believe you. But I don’t think you can put me to the test.”
Briefly, Chase was quiet. “I can’t,” he acknowledged. “But that doesn’t mean I have to do it. When I decided to stay here, I was able to put that aside.”
“I know,” she answered. “I love you for that. But if you still want to run, and I think you do, that’s what I want for you.” She paused again, searching for answers. “Maybe the price we pay for being ourselves is hard to bear. I know I’ll love you for the rest of my life, and I’m guessing that’s true for you. But now we’ve got something more to show for our time together, don’t we? Not just caring for each other, but sharing our son.”
Allie felt the pain on his face cutting through her. “So we just put how we feel in a corner somewhere?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I know we’ll see each other, if you want to. I don’t want to ever let go of being part of each other’s lives.”
Chase touched her face. “Neither do I. But after all this, it’s hard to imagine time going by without you.”
Despite herself, Allie smiled a little. “But it will, baby, and I’m guessing quicker for you than for me. We both know that it was Jabari and Al Garrett who saved Malcolm. But try telling that to the starstruck voters of Massachusetts. Some morning you’ll wake up and realize you’re going to absolutely decimate Lucy Battle in the Democratic primary. If that sister has any sense, she’ll just get out of your way.”
Allie paused again, and then gave in to her desire to kiss him, letting the moment linger. “I wouldn’t mind sleeping with a senator, either. But I’m thinking another thing you’ll realize is that it’s not too late to have a full-time family, and that somewhere in Georgia you found out you want that.” Pausing, she felt the catch in her throat. “If you find her, and someday call to tell me, I’ll be glad of that as well.”
It wasn’t until she watched him drive away that Allie let the tears flow, feeling the void inside her that only Chase had ever filled.
