I was gone only ten minutes-fifteen tops. I filled a paper cup at the watercooler and downed it, then stood on the courthouse steps for thirty seconds of fresh air. Between the subfreezing temperature and the wind-whipped snow, that was about all I could stand. But now that I’m back in Judge Leon Long’s courtroom, it’s clear that I’ve missed something.
Court’s in recess, of course. The room is quiet and the lights are dim. The judge, the press, and the curious onlookers are gone. But Harry, who normally mows down anything in his path to get to lunch, is seated in the front row of the gallery, not going anywhere, surrounded by Buck Hammond’s family.
Buck’s wife, his parents, two of his three brothers, even his in-laws are here. They all look up at me expectantly, then turn their eyes to Harry. He’s supposed to do the talking, it seems.
“You have to open,” he says.
“What?”
Harry arches his eyebrows. He knows I heard him.
“I can’t open,” I tell the family members. “I’m not prepared to open. Harry’s ready. He’ll open.”
Harry stands and stretches, loosening his tie. “They think you should open,” he says. “And I think they’re right.”
“But you’re wrong,” I tell them. “Harry will do a fine job. He’s ready.”
Patty Hammond steps forward and puts a hand on my arm. “We don’t doubt that,” she says. “We don’t doubt that at all. We know Harry would do a great job.”
She looks to her relatives. They nod at her, and she turns back to me. “But this judge,” she says, “he likes you.”
Murmurs of agreement come from the family members. “And the jurors like this judge,” a brother adds. “Every one of them. They hang on his every word.”
They’re right about that, of course. Jurors love Judge Leon Long. Almost all of them do. That’s one of the things about Judge Long that drives Geraldine crazy.
Harry takes over again. “Marty,” he says, pacing the front of the courtroom, “think about it. Judge Long has always liked you. Jurors have always liked Judge Long. And let’s face it, we need every point we can score in this trial.” He raises his eyebrows again.
The relatives move closer to me as Harry continues, still pacing. “Besides”-he laughs-“I come with baggage, remember? Twenty years’ worth. I’m the creep they all know from TV news, the fast-talking public defender who’s always arguing some technicality, always trying to get some no-good hood off the hook.”
Harry is a lot of things, but a fast-talking creep he’s not. He stops moving and winks at me. “You’re still known as the law-and-order lady,” he says. “They might listen to you.”
I roll my eyes at Harry, but the Hammond relatives, it seems, are serious. Buck’s mother steps forward, a petite, gray-haired woman wearing her Sunday best in spite of the snowstorm. She has tears in her eyes. “Please,” she says, taking Patty’s hand in hers, “it might make a difference.”
The pendulum clock on the wall behind the jury box says it’s almost one-thirty. I have half an hour to prepare the opening statement for the most difficult trial I’ve ever faced.
“Okay. I’ll open. That means I’d better get to work.”
The small herd of family members heads for the courtroom doors, but I stop Patty as she passes. “I’m going to need some help from you,” I tell her.
“From me?”
“Yes. Get back here a few minutes early and I’ll explain.”
“Okay,” she says. Nothing surprises Patty Hammond anymore. She’s stopped asking questions.
Patty and her sad family head down the aisle and I set up at the defense table. Harry waits until the last of the relatives is gone, then leans over and brushes his lips against the back of my neck.
The tingle down my spine isn’t going to do anything good for my opening statement.
“Get lost, Harry.” I swat at him. “I have work to do.”
“Okay.” He laughs. “Lucky for you this old dog needs food. What can I bring you?”
“Coffee.”
“Is that all?”
“Yup.”
“Nothing to eat?”
I turn around to face him and his expression makes me laugh. Not eating when offered the opportunity is a concept Harry can’t grasp.
“Oh, I get it,” he says, headed for the courtroom doors. “You don’t fool me. You’re every bit as hungry as I am.” He smiles at me over his shoulder, then narrows his eyes. “But it’s the hungry lioness who kills.”