Witness Protection Part 64
Closing Arguments
Chang and I had no luck finding Alexander that afternoon. He'd commandeered an office at the precinct, but when we called the number there, we were told he'd gone out of town for a few days.
Needless to say we didn't leave a message. But I did get the name of the agent covering the office so I could check my list for it when I got home.
Meanwhile, having Merquise's disks safely locked away in Winner's safe had taken such a load off my mind that I actually let Wufei talk me into dinner out with him and Catherine. We kept the conversation light, for her benefit, talking more about the engagement than anything relating to the trial.
It was kind of bittersweet to watch the play of light in Wufei's eyes as he glanced fondly at Catherine from time to time.
I knew that feeling very well--the one that shone from him like a beacon. He was very much in love, and looking forward to a bright future with his chosen one.
Somehow, though, I couldn't feel jealous or resentful. They deserved happiness; I'd never deny that. And in all honesty, my own life didn't have to be sunshine and roses for me to wish good fortune on my friends.
But it did make my breath catch in my throat when I noticed their hands clasped across the table and Chang's thumb stroking lightly across the back of Catherine's hand.
Fortunately, I'd always been good at compartmentalizing my emotions, and I carefully placed a lid on the roiling guilt and despair caused by losing Duo, and kept firmly focused on destroying Khushrenada and his empire.
Sometimes anger is a great therapy. I could target all my energy on the one who caused it; and once I did, they never stood a chance.
"Chang? I think I'll skip dessert," I told him. "I want to get back to my apartment and print up that data for Agent Alexander, in case he shows up at closing arguments."
He looked up with concern in the dark eyes, rather guiltily slipping his hand from Catherine's. "Don't feel you have to rush off," he insisted. "We're glad you joined us tonight--"
I took his hand and put it back over Catherine's, watching her blush a little, and then smile warmly at Wufei. "You two take your time. Have dessert and enjoy each other's company." I winked at my partner. "Three's a crowd, Chang."
"But--"
"I'll see you tomorrow." I clapped him on the back. "And dinner's on me." Before he could protest, I went in search of our waitress, making sure to pay her enough to cover my friends' dessert and a generous tip.
Someone once taught me the nicer you are to a waitress, the better the service.
After leaving the restaurant, I drove across town and back to my empty apartment. But oddly enough, the first thing I looked for as I walked in was that damned box of ashes. And the minute my eyes settled on it, I felt less alone.
I always thought it was stupid for people to name inanimate objects, like a car or a gun (and yeah, a lot of cops did name their sidearms). But I had to bite my tongue to keep from saying "hey Angel" as I walked by.
Fuck--next thing you knew, I'd be calling my car something silly, like "Wing" or "Zero." (Well it did do "zero" to sixty in record time--once I got it started, anyway. And I'd sometimes joked that it had "wings," when I needed it to.)
I chuckled to myself and headed for the laptop to print up enough of the data from the disks I planned to give Alexander, to convince him of their worth. I also double-checked my list of corrupt FBI agents and breathed a quick sigh when the one who'd answered his phone wasn't on it.
Then I put on some music, and stretched out on my bed to get a decent night's sleep for the first time in weeks.
~*~
Morning found me up and dressed in clothing suitable for the courtroom well before Chang called to see if I wanted a ride in. I accepted his offer, just to be sociable, and was pleasantly surprised to find that Catherine was coming with us.
"Well, this is quite the crew," I commented, sliding into the passenger seat after Catherine scooted closer to Wufei to give me room.
"Winner and Barton will meet us there," Wufei told me. "We plan to sit as a group--to present a united front to Khushrenada." His dark eyes glimmered with determination. "He will know that to harm one of us is to harm us all."
Wow. And to think Chang didn't even like Duo at the start of all this.
I "hn'd" my agreement to his sentiments, and watched the scenery slide by in comfortable silence.
The courthouse was almost as packed as it had been at the start of the trial. Apparently everyone wanted to hear the final statements--the summary of all the testimony that had gone before.
I just wanted to hear what sort of crap Tsubarov was going to try to spew forth. The District Attorney couldn't object during the defense's closing argument. But by the same token, if the defense made one (which was optional, though I felt sure they would), he had the right of rebuttal afterwards.
And I really hoped Noventa had polished his statement to perfection. I'd heard he could move juries to tears with his eloquent speeches--and I wanted this to be the best he'd ever made.
We endured the usual screening on the way into the courthouse, though Chang was more vocal than I had been about how this level of security a couple of weeks sooner might have saved a witness' life.
He almost got himself strip-searched for his trouble.
I was standing beside Catherine, smirking at my partner's irritation while he straightened his suit and tie, when I saw Barton and Winner approaching.
"You made it!" the blonde said enthusiastically, reaching to shake Chang's and my hands as if he hadn't just seen us the day before.
"Told you we would," I shrugged, my eyes going past him to Barton.
Trowa looked--haggard. And I wondered if the same hollowness was reflected in my eyes.
"How are you?" I asked simply.
He shrugged one shoulder, in a gesture vaguely reminiscent of Duo when he was at his most insecure. "Okay, I suppose," he conceded.
"Just okay?" I recalled him being the one who'd supported me through the funeral, and felt a bit guilty for not having returned the favor.
He gave a wan smile. "Still a bit unsteady is all."
"I heard you took time off from work."
"Yeah--too many memories there for me right now."
"I dropped off some clubbing clothes with Ms. Noin. I'd have called you, but--"
"Naw, I was pretty busy with testifying and stuff."
I nodded. "Yeah. Thanks. I owe you for that."
"No problem."
Quatre caught Trowa's arm then, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Shall we all go in and take our seats? I got us the front row...right behind Noventa and opposite Khushrenada and his lackeys."
And so the five of us filed into the courtroom and took our places.
I ended up between Barton and Chang, and I elbowed the dancer chidingly as we sat down. "By the way," I whispered with a smirk. "You clean up nice."
It was the truth; in a suit and tie, with his hair combed into a less roguish style, he could've been a corporate executive, or a model. He looked smooth and elegant.
He managed to quirk a genuine smile at me. "Well I am a performer, after all."
"A very talented one, as I recall," I dared to tease back.
"Why, thank you," he said with a polite nod. "Not so bad yourself, detective, when you aren't in 'mission mode.'"
We fell silent and dropped our banter the moment the bailiff called the court to order and Judge Lake entered.
I hadn't bothered to glance in Khushrenada's direction until then; but I was rewarded by the sight of him looking a little less polished and smug than he had before.
He was being held in custody when not in court, and I thought maybe prison life didn't agree with him. I could only hope it was about to become his permanent situation.
The intensity of my scrutiny seemed to reach him, and he glanced my way, immediately curling a lip in a contemptuous gesture. His eyes had a mocking glint, and he let them rake across Trowa in a way that made me want to offer the dancer something to wash with.
I imagined that when Barton had taken the stand in Duo's defense, he'd earned no favor in Khushrenada's eyes, especially after belting him in the hallway. But I hoped that Merquise had owned The Jungle outright, and not been partnered with Khushrenada in that business venture--or Trowa might be out of a job very shortly.
What was I thinking? Of course he wouldn't. Khushrenada was about to go down for murder. He wouldn't be making any business moves for a long, long time.
~*~
I turned my attention back to the front of the room, as Judge Lake banged her gavel and called the session to order.
"Mister Noventa, are you prepared to make your closing argument?"
"Yes, Your Honor, I am."
The District Attorney got up and approached the jury, making eye contact with them one by one, before beginning his summary.
"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury--you heard an eyewitness account of Zechs Merquise's murder--an account backed up by forensic evidence. There was a shoe print in Merquise's blood--a print of a very exclusive make of footwear that Treize Khushrenada was known to wear. It had a unique maker's mark. His attorneys may try to tell you, as he told the police, that he gave those five thousand dollar shoes to charity."
He glanced at Khushrenada, raising a skeptical eyebrow.
"Even if he would give away something of such value--what are the odds they'd end up leaving a footprint at Zechs Merquise's murder scene?"
Noventa turned back to the jury again, and began to review other pieces of forensic evidence--the DNA on a wine glass, the blood spatter that clearly indicated there were multiple people in the room at the time of the murder, and the bruising on Merquise's wrists and shoulders, proving he'd been forcibly restrained.
I thought it a bit odd that he didn't address the accusations made against Duo--but then, I imagined he'd get to that eventually.
"When all is said and done," he concluded, "this is a simple case. We presented a reliable eye witness, as well as someone to corroborate his testimony, and a great deal of forensic evidence supporting that account. There is no reasonable doubt that Treize Khushrenada killed Zechs Merquise. It is my contention that you have no choice but to find him guilty of that crime."
He gave a polite nod and stepped away from the jury, returning to his seat at the prosecution's table.
Was that it? He hadn't mentioned the attacks against Duo at all--the verbal one by Tsubarov, or the literal one Une had carried out. Somehow, I'd expected more. A lot more.
I glanced around Barton and caught Winner's eye, frowning and shaking my head in confusion.
He put a finger to his lips and gave a quick shake of his head and a wait-and-see look towards the front of the courtroom.
The judge had called Tsubarov to make a closing statement if he wished, and apparently he did.
He approached the jury with a patronizing smile. "Ladies and gentlemen--the prosecution has laid out a very plausible account of Zechs Merquise's murder, complete with an eye witness and forensic evidence. While there is some validity to the science of forensics--there is also a lot of uncertainty and speculation. The footprint in Merquise's blood could have been made by a very exclusive type of shoe, which Treize Khushrenada did at one time own. But the police found no such shoes at Mister Khushrenada's home. Nor did they find the .45 caliber weapon which killed Zechs Merquise. There was no security footage to suggest that Treize Khushrenada was ever even at Merquise's penthouse, let alone the night of his death."
"On the other hand, Duo Maxwell had been there many times. As Merquise's lover, he had ready access to the penthouse. Furthermore, such a child of the streets would have little trouble acquiring and then getting rid of, a gun. Witnesses heard him fighting with Zechs Merquise less than a week before the shooting. Whether he actually said he'd kill him or not, he demanded that Merquise leave him alone '--or else.' And then, the night of the murder, Merquise was seen leaving the Sanc Palace in Maxwell's company."
He raised his hands in a gesture of supplication. "Seems pretty obvious to me what happened. They went back to the penthouse, had another falling out, and Merquise ended up dead."
I felt Trowa tense beside me, and saw Winner grab his arm in a firm grip. Then I realized that from my other side, Chang had my arm in just as tight a hold, as I was half-rising from my seat.
I settled back down, feeling my jaw clench with ire.
Tsubarov was smiling conspiratorially, as if he and the members of the jury were sharing some kind of private joke.
"Considering his past, someone like Duo Maxwell would realize he needed a spectacular alibi once he'd killed his former lover--and what's more spectacular than accusing one of the most high-profile businessmen in the state? Of course, it's Maxwell's word against that of Mister Khushrenada and three of his employees that he was even there!"
"I submit to you that there is just as much evidence that Duo Maxwell killed Zechs Merquise as there is against Treize Khushrenada. He had means, motive, and opportunity. That should place enough doubt in your minds to necessitate an acquittal. Reasonable doubt, folks. That's all it takes."
He strutted away with his chin held high, as if he was assured of his victory.
And I was terrified that he was right.
I could almost hear Duo saying "I am so fucked."
"Jesus, Winner--" I hissed in an undertone.
He looked intensely at me, shaking his head in warning, and then turning his attention back to the prosecutor, who'd risen and approached the jury again.
Mister Noventa cleared his throat, and gave a sort of resigned nod. "I wonder if Mister Tsubarov watched a different trial than the rest of us," he said with quiet amusement. "Since he seems to have a rather skewed view of the facts."
"He'd like you to suspect Duo Maxwell of Zechs Merquise's murder. And I'm sure that would be very convenient for his client, if you did. But you saw Duo Maxwell take the stand--you heard his heartfelt account of his lover's death." He shook his head. "I don't know about you, but I saw no 'child of the streets.' I only saw a young man who went through Hell these past weeks, dodging assassins so that he could be here to testify. Dodging assassins." He shook his head in disbelief. "If Maxwell was the killer, why would anyone have tried to kill him? Why wouldn't Mister Khushrenada have simply laughed off the accusation that he committed the crime, and let the police uncover the truth? I can't help but wonder why an innocent man would hire killers to silence the only witness to a high profile crime--and yet the attempts on Maxwell's life suggest that someone with deep pockets wanted him dead."
"They got what they wanted, didn't they?"
He paused to let that sink in, and I was pretty sure every person on that jury was remembering the shocking murder at the very door to the courtroom.
"I won't begin to speculate on the ravings of a clearly disturbed woman," Noventa continued, cleverly sidestepping the land mine of Une's rant, which the judge had told the jury to disregard. "But as a result of her actions, Mister Maxwell is not here to explain that he and his lover had put their argument behind them and resumed their relationship the night of the murder. He's not here to offer further insight into the dynamics of the Merquise/Khushrenada business association. He's not here because Treize Khushrenada's personal assistant felt it was so important to silence him that she attacked him in a courtroom full of witnesses. She sacrificed herself to try to save her boss from the consequences of his actions."
He darted a narrow glare in Khushrenada's direction. "Such loyalty."
"But all that aside, we clearly can't take the word of a woman who was obviously mentally unbalanced. On the other hand, we can certainly take the word of the very sincere and lucid young man who took the stand at the risk of his own life to find justice for his dead lover."
"And we can also believe Mister Maxwell's friend Trowa Barton, who came forward to corroborate that testimony. He explained the lovers' spat that Mister Tsubarov would claim was a motive for murder. He told us how much that brief separation pained Duo Maxwell, and how exhilarated he was when he and Merquise patched things up. He put into perspective the brief display of temper in the hallway of Sanc. Even the woman who'd told Mister Tsubarov about that encounter and claimed there was a death threat made, later admitted to lying about it. So there was no motive for Maxwell to murder Zechs Merquise. And there was every reason for him to want his lover alive. As Mister Barton said, Zechs Merquise had shown Duo Maxwell a level of love and attention he'd never known before in his harsh life."
He gave a rather insouciant shrug. "No motive. Why then, should we suspect Duo Maxwell?"
"On the other hand, the conversation that Mister Maxwell overheard at the penthouse, indicated that Treize Khushrenada had a very strong motive to want Zechs Merquise dead. He thought he'd been betrayed. He thought his business associate and partner in crime was going to the police to reveal his secrets. 'A matter of honor and betrayal--' he said. A man like Treize Khushrenada could not tolerate a traitor in his organization. While we can't address the nature of the relationship between the Oz syndicate and the Romefeller Foundation, surely we can see by looking at him that Mister Khushrenada is used to having his orders obeyed--used to getting his way--in everything."
"I implore you--don't let him have his way in this. Duo Maxwell died to bring you the truth. The evidence we presented supported his testimony. Don't let his sacrifice be in vain. Find Treize Khushrenada guilty of the murder of Zechs Merquise, and let Duo Maxwell rest in peace!"
Wow--he had me on that one. I hastily looked down at my lap to hide the tears that welled up with his heart-wrenching plea.
"Damn, he's good," Trowa breathed almost reverently.
"Amen to that," I managed hoarsely.
Winner shot me a smug look and nodded his agreement, and I heard Wufei mumble something about justice being served. I felt a surge of hope in that moment. If the jury was half as moved by Noventa's words as I was, there was no way they could acquit Khushrenada.
Victory was going to be sweet.
I dared a glance over at Khushrenada, who wore a mask of indifference, though his eyes glittered with ill-concealed anger. Apparently, he'd seen how smoothly Noventa turned Tsubarov's accusations around, and he didn't like it.
"Do you still want your five minutes?" Quatre whispered to me as we filed out of our seats.
"Damn straight, I do," I growled back. Seeing Khushrenada go down for murder wasn't enough. It could never be enough.
I wanted him to watch his empire fall with him. And I wanted to be the one to deliver the message that it would.
Okay, maybe that would be even sweeter than victory.
"How long do you think the jury will deliberate?" I asked Winner.
"Hard to say. In a case like this, at least a week. If it goes longer than that, well, they might end up in a deadlock."
"Not good," Chang muttered. "If there's a mistrial and we have to start over, we'll lose the edge Maxwell gave us."
"Don't even think that!" I said sharply.
"Heero's right," Catherine agreed. "We need to be positive about this. The jury had to see that Noventa made good sense. If they have any kind of consciences, they can't acquit a man like Khushrenada."
We were out in the hallway by then, and Noventa caught up to us, reaching for my arm. "A moment, detective?"
I looked up at him and glanced aside at my friends. "They know," I told him simply.
His gaze swept over them and then came back to rest on me. "Okay, then. I just wondered how I did in there?"
"You did great," I assured him. "Got me a little nervous when you didn't bring up their accusations in the first part of your closing--but I see the tactical advantage to the way you did it."
"Always let them take the first low blow," he said with a sly grin. "It makes them look both underhanded and cowardly."
"Oh--he says nice things too," Chang spoke up, reminding me of Winner's comments about Tsubarov. "Nobody seems to like Mister Tsubarov very much."
Noventa eyed him with a smirk. "As I recall, he once tried to make you accuse your partner of police brutality."
Wufei's eyes glittered like black ice. "An injustice I never forgot," he said coldly.
"Old history," Quatre said airily. "Mister Tsubarov will have his own neck to worry about soon--if the private detectives I hired are able to link him to the payoffs made to Miss Schbeiker."
"You think he's stupid enough to have left a paper trail?" chided Noventa.
"One can only hope."
As Noventa chuckled and turned to leave, I caught his sleeve and offered my hand. "Thank you, counselor. Thank you for defending Duo, and for speaking on his behalf--for reminding the jury what he sacrificed-- All of it. You really did care about him, didn't you?"
"Like I said, I was very impressed with him."
I shook my head. "Go figure. It took him weeks to get under my skin, and he did it to you in a day and a half."
He shrugged modestly. "I'm a perceptive man, Yuy. Have to be in this line of work." His gaze slipped over to Quatre. "If you ever want to trade specialties, counselor, I could use another sharp mind on my team."
Quatre smiled gently. "I'm a defense attorney at heart," he said, placing a hand over said heart. "But if you run into another tough case, I can be persuaded to provide tactical advice."
"I'll keep that in mind." And then Noventa was gone, striding confidently off towards his office, and I had to face the fact that there were now two attorneys I both liked and respected.
"Shit."
"What?" asked Winner.
"Nothing," I muttered sullenly, not wanting to share my newfound insight.
~*~
We all went out to lunch, making it a mini-celebration of both Chang's and Catherine's engagement, and the conclusion of Khushrenada's trial.
It was supposed to be a festive occasion. And if Barton looked a little pinched around the eyes, I didn't dare mention it, as I was afraid I looked much the same.
I think we were both considering the ramifications of the trial's end. Duo had brought us all together; protecting him, and then carrying through on his mission to bring down Khushrenada had been our common cause.
But now that it was coming to an end--we faced the realization that we'd have to return to our lives minus his vibrant presence. And if that wasn't daunting enough, we'd have to face the possibility of losing touch with one another, now that we lacked our unifying force.
I began to understand why Chang was so adamant that I promise to be there for his wedding. He wasn't willing to give up what we'd gain, in friendship and in trust. He wanted to keep everyone he respected and valued in his life.
I think I wanted the same--though I knew that first I'd have to find a way to accept Duo's death and effect some healing. There was no way I could be the person Chang had learned to respect if I kept hanging on to the past and wallowing in self-pity.
"Heero?" Quatre asked quietly, as if sensing my deep thoughts. "You okay?"
"Fine. I'm fine," I answered automatically. "Just thinking about what to do next."
"Next?" Wufei cut in. "You're going to track down Alexander and make a deal."
I looked up at him with a faint smile. "No--I mean after that. Just--I'm trying to come up with a game plan--for the rest of my life, I guess."
His expression softened. "That's good."
"Very good," Quatre agreed. "And you know I'm full of suggestions, if you ever need any."
"I know that, counselor," I sighed. "All lawyers are full of--suggestions."
He chuckled at the obvious hesitation. "So are a lot of detectives," he countered. Then he picked up his glass of wine, and cleared his throat. "How about a toast--to Duo? He brought us all together and taught us the value of friendship."
I hastily reached for the dark beer sitting in front of me, and Trowa lifted his as well, our eyes meeting across the table, mirroring the same pain even as we let Quatre believe the smiles we pasted on were real.
Maybe someday they'd be real--but not just yet.
TBC...
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