do some fishing down in the Keys,” Vail said. “You know, recharge my batteries. I assume this can wait a couple of weeks—”
“No, no, no,” Shoat said sharply. “The hearing’s tomorrow and I hope to be able to go to court in, oh, sixty days maximum.”
“What’s the charge?”
“First degree murder.”
“Murder one! You want to go to trial on a murder one in sixty days? Who’s the client?”
Shoat leaned forward and smiled.
“Aaron Stampler,” he said.
“Aaron …” Vail started to say, and then remembered the name. My God! He stared across the desk at Shoat for several seconds. “The Rushman thing,” he said.
“Yes, Mr. Vail. The Rushman thing.”
Aaron Stampler was the kid they’d nailed for killing Archbishop Rushman.
Shoat reached in a desk drawer, took out a slender dark cigar,unwrapped it and carefully snipped off the end. Vail took out a cigarette.
“Do you mind?” Shoat said. “I really detest the smell of cigarettes.” Vail put the pack back as Shoat lit the cigar with a gold lighter, twisting the stogie slowly to make sure the end was evenly fired. Then he leaned back and blew the smoke toward the ceiling.
“Preliminary tomorrow at nine. I’ll set the date then. I was thinking perhaps … oh, the first week in April.”
“That isn’t even sixty days.”
“What’s the difference, Counselor? We’re going to fry him anyway.”
Vail’s shocked expression drew an immediate response from the judge.
“Just so it’s all on the table, I have it on excellent authority that this little monster knew the good bishop, was caught with the murder weapon in hand, and his bloody fingerprints are spread from the rectory to me confessional.”
“You seem to know a lot about the case. Are you trying it?”
“What I just told you is
all
I know, sir, and yes, I am trying it. And I sure as hell don’t expect any problem from you on that score.”
“I see. Well, if it’s that open and shut, maybe we’ll just plead him guilty and throw ourselves on the mercy of the court.”
“There’s not going to be any mercy in this court, Mr. Vail. Archbishop Rushman was the closest thing to a living saint this city has ever seen. Even the knee jerkers are going to look the other way if Stampler gets the chair. And he will. He’ll be the most despised defendant since Charles Manson. Even if you plead him guilty, he’ll get the bloody chair.”
So that was it. This was the payoff for the Pinero win. Make him try an open-and-shut case, turn public opinion against him, and break his back. Let’s bring Vail to his knees, that’s what it was all about.
Vail said, “The first thing we’ll do is file for change of venue. There’s no way—”
“Absolutely not. No change. You don’t get it, do you, Counselor? Go out on the street, in the restaurants, ask people what they think. People are outraged, as well they should be. They deserve satisfaction, Mr. Vail. They demand requital. They require that release.”
“Why don’t we just string him up in front of the church? There’s a nice big oak tree up there.”
“I warned you …”
“Warned me what? You sit there, tell me to try this case when you’ve already picked out his death cell. You tell me the city’s on fire over this but I can’t change venue …”
“Vail, this is a conversation strictly between you and me,” Shoat said quietly. “If push comes to shove, it never happened.”
“Good, then I can tell you what I think of—”
“I am not in the slightest interested in your opinion, so save your breath. I know some of you young hotshots call me Hangin’ Harry. That doesn’t bother me one damn bit. In fact, if hanging were still in vogue I’d be the first one to pull the handle on the trapdoor.”
“Maybe they’ll let you throw the switch on Stampler.”
Shoat leaned forward slightly. “There will be a very long line for that. We’ll probably have to raffle off the privilege. Perhaps divide the proceeds
“No, no, no,” Shoat said sharply. “The hearing’s tomorrow and I hope to be able to go to court in, oh, sixty days maximum.”
“What’s the charge?”
“First degree murder.”
“Murder one! You want to go to trial on a murder one in sixty days? Who’s the client?”
Shoat leaned forward and smiled.
“Aaron Stampler,” he said.
“Aaron …” Vail started to say, and then remembered the name. My God! He stared across the desk at Shoat for several seconds. “The Rushman thing,” he said.
“Yes, Mr. Vail. The Rushman thing.”
Aaron Stampler was the kid they’d nailed for killing Archbishop Rushman.
Shoat reached in a desk drawer, took out a slender dark cigar,unwrapped it and carefully snipped off the end. Vail took out a cigarette.
“Do you mind?” Shoat said. “I really detest the smell of cigarettes.” Vail put the pack back as Shoat lit the cigar with a gold lighter, twisting the stogie slowly to make sure the end was evenly fired. Then he leaned back and blew the smoke toward the ceiling.
“Preliminary tomorrow at nine. I’ll set the date then. I was thinking perhaps … oh, the first week in April.”
“That isn’t even sixty days.”
“What’s the difference, Counselor? We’re going to fry him anyway.”
Vail’s shocked expression drew an immediate response from the judge.
“Just so it’s all on the table, I have it on excellent authority that this little monster knew the good bishop, was caught with the murder weapon in hand, and his bloody fingerprints are spread from the rectory to me confessional.”
“You seem to know a lot about the case. Are you trying it?”
“What I just told you is
all
I know, sir, and yes, I am trying it. And I sure as hell don’t expect any problem from you on that score.”
“I see. Well, if it’s that open and shut, maybe we’ll just plead him guilty and throw ourselves on the mercy of the court.”
“There’s not going to be any mercy in this court, Mr. Vail. Archbishop Rushman was the closest thing to a living saint this city has ever seen. Even the knee jerkers are going to look the other way if Stampler gets the chair. And he will. He’ll be the most despised defendant since Charles Manson. Even if you plead him guilty, he’ll get the bloody chair.”
So that was it. This was the payoff for the Pinero win. Make him try an open-and-shut case, turn public opinion against him, and break his back. Let’s bring Vail to his knees, that’s what it was all about.
Vail said, “The first thing we’ll do is file for change of venue. There’s no way—”
“Absolutely not. No change. You don’t get it, do you, Counselor? Go out on the street, in the restaurants, ask people what they think. People are outraged, as well they should be. They deserve satisfaction, Mr. Vail. They demand requital. They require that release.”
“Why don’t we just string him up in front of the church? There’s a nice big oak tree up there.”
“I warned you …”
“Warned me what? You sit there, tell me to try this case when you’ve already picked out his death cell. You tell me the city’s on fire over this but I can’t change venue …”
“Vail, this is a conversation strictly between you and me,” Shoat said quietly. “If push comes to shove, it never happened.”
“Good, then I can tell you what I think of—”
“I am not in the slightest interested in your opinion, so save your breath. I know some of you young hotshots call me Hangin’ Harry. That doesn’t bother me one damn bit. In fact, if hanging were still in vogue I’d be the first one to pull the handle on the trapdoor.”
“Maybe they’ll let you throw the switch on Stampler.”
Shoat leaned forward slightly. “There will be a very long line for that. We’ll probably have to raffle off the privilege. Perhaps divide the proceeds
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