Acts of Malice (20 page)

‘‘There’s a point,’’ Nina told Flaherty.

‘‘Make it then,’’ Flaherty said. Turning to Malavoy, he said, ‘‘Answer the question.’’

Shrugging, Malavoy said, ‘‘Yes, I liked it very much. I love skiing, being around the resort atmosphere. Of course, I didn’t belong in such menial work there. I’m not just a waiter.’’

‘‘No? What’s your ambition in life then, Mr. Malavoy?’’

Collier rolled his eyes, but Flaherty indulged her. ‘‘My ambition? To meet many lovely girls.’’ A dashing smile.

‘‘I mean, in terms of work.’’

‘‘Well. To own my own resort.’’

‘‘You’ve talked about this ambition with some of those lovely girls, and—’’

‘‘I talk to everyone about it—’’

‘‘And you’ve talked about it with your stepsister.’’

‘‘All the time.’’

‘‘Now, Marianne Strong inherited Alex Strong’s interest in Paradise Ski Resort, didn’t she, upon his death?’’

‘‘She told me she did.’’ Collier stood up to complain but Flaherty just raised a hand and said, ‘‘I know it’s hearsay. Let’s just get on with this.’’

The moment had arrived. ‘‘Now. Isn’t it true that from the day of Alex Strong’s death you have repeatedly urged Marianne Strong to sell out this interest and to use the money to return to Europe with you to invest in a ski resort there?’’

Malavoy thought about this. So did Collier. So did Flaherty.

At length, Malavoy said, ‘‘Yes, it’s an idea I have talked over with her.’’ He had become very still, as though he realized that a blow was about to be administered.

Nina administered it.

‘‘All right,’’ Nina said. ‘‘All right. Let’s see if I understand your situation on October twenty-third correctly. Please note that I am talking now about the day of Alex Strong’s death. You were in a rage at Alex Strong and you had attacked him the previous day. Furthermore, you knew that if Alex was dead your stepsister would inherit a considerable property, and you have very strong ideas on the subject of what she should do with it.

‘‘Isn’t it true that on the twenty-third of October you followed Alex Strong off-trail, watched him have an accident as he was skiing with his brother, and took advantage of his helplessness by stomping him to death?’’

‘‘God! No! I never saw him the next day!’’

‘‘Oh, brother,’’ Collier said for all to hear.

‘‘How well do you know the mountain at Paradise? In terms of skiing?’’ Nina went on.

‘‘Everybody knows the mountain.’’

‘‘Where were you on the afternoon of the twenty-third of October?’’

‘‘At my place, unemployed, getting drunk! I didn’t kill him. I was— I wouldn’t do anything like that. You’re just trying to get your client some breathing room, that’s what it is.’’

‘‘He’s denied it,’’ Collier said. He had been listening with an angry frown. ‘‘There isn’t a shred of evidence Mr. Malavoy had anything to do with Alex Strong’s death. I object to any further testimony being taken on this line of questioning.’’

‘‘I’m merely demonstrating that Mr. Malavoy is just as likely to have killed Alex Strong as the defendant,’’ Nina said evenly.

‘‘Gather ye motives as ye may,’’ Flaherty said. ‘‘You’d need more than that to make such an accusation at trial. Now let’s move along.’’

‘‘Certainly, Your Honor. I just have one last question. If I may?’’

‘‘If you must.’’

‘‘What brand and size of ski boot do you wear, Mr. Malavoy?’’

‘‘What brand? Dalbello.’’

‘‘What size?’’

‘‘Size eleven. I hit him the day before, that’s all! I swear it!’’

‘‘The record will show that this witness wears ski boots previously identified as having bottoms which could match the patterns on Alex Strong’s skin.’’ Nina said. And Collier jumped up to raise some hell, but Flaherty was staring at Malavoy’s clenched fists and pale face, and Nina knew she’d made her point.

Later, Jim said, ‘‘Oh, man, you laid into him like— like—he was cringing. Even though I knew you were going to do it to him, I didn’t realize how bad it would look. You almost had me convinced. But he couldn’t do anything like that. He hasn’t got the guts, no matter how much he drinks or shoots up. He thinks he’s such a hot shot. I can outski his ass anytime, any place. He thinks every woman on earth would like to climb into his bed—what did you think of him, Nina?’’

‘‘Me? I didn’t pay attention to his looks.’’ That was one huge humdinger of a lie, but Jim’s dark face called for it.

‘‘Twice, the week before I fired him, he was late. I talked to him about it. The day I fired him, he had left his post. I didn’t know where he was. Shooting crystal in the bathroom was my guess. So I took over his job until he showed up again. Then I took him into my office and terminated him.’’

‘‘Did you blame it on Alex?’’

‘‘Why do you keep asking the same question? I’ve told you over and over. Of course not. Gina’s lying. She’s got Gene madder than before. Now Gene will be waiting outside the courtroom for me. Gina would like that. He better not try anything. I’ll—’’

‘‘It just doesn’t make sense, though,’’ Nina said. ‘‘If you never told Malavoy that, why did he attack Alex in the parking lot on the twenty-second? You know? It’s just a very strange thing.’’

‘‘Yeah. It’s strange. That kid has a lot he’s hiding.’’

‘‘It’s just inexplicable.’’

‘‘Life is inexplicable,’’ Jim said.

‘‘And your father never threatened to remove you as manager of the lodge?’’

‘‘How many times do we have to go over this? She made that up.’’

‘‘Would your father testify to that?’’

She saw again that resentful look Jim had whenever she mentioned his father. ‘‘My father? You’d have to ask him if he wants to do anything for me. I think he’s going to stay out of it.’’

‘‘He could help you on this point. What’s going on between you?’’

‘‘Nothing.’’ She asked him several more questions about his father, but Jim wouldn’t add to that.

Nina pushed back her chair and said, ‘‘Keep your chin up. We’re doing well. I think Collier—Mr. Hallowell’s in trouble. Clauson didn’t do well today, and I don’t think the judge is going to pay much attention to the two ex-employees. They don’t want to bring in your father, as I told you before.’’

‘‘Alex died in an accident,’’ Jim said. ‘‘My father shouldn’t be dragged into this too. God, I hope it ends here.’’

‘‘It might. It might not. The judge is only looking for probable cause to bind you over for trial. That doesn’t take a whole lot of evidence. But I think— Ginger’s really going to go after the forensic work, and Tim Seisz, our geologist, is going to say that it could have been patterning from the rock striations. He went to grad school at USC, where Flaherty went to law school. Flaherty will listen to him about the patterning evidence.’’

‘‘And the fibers?’’

‘‘Ginger’s ready to testify that they’re indistinguishable from dozens of shirts of that type sold at Miller’s Outpost.’’

‘‘That’s where we always bought ’em,’’ Jim said. ‘‘I’m glad you called and asked me.’’

‘‘We should get back.’’ They climbed the staircase. Even though they were running late, no witnesses awaited in the hall, only the usual crowd of news reporters and photographers. The bailiff cleared a way through them into the courtroom.

‘‘Where are the witnesses?’’ Nina asked Flaherty’s clerk.

‘‘Mr. Hallowell said he’d be a few minutes late. We couldn’t find you to tell you.’’

Nina raised an eyebrow at this. Back at the counsel table she doodled on her yellow pad, gathering her thoughts. They’d talked to the cops, the paramedics, the coroner, Beloit, and Malavoy . . . Collier wouldn’t bring in Philip Strong because he wouldn’t trust Strong to back up Gina Beloit. He was Jim’s father, after all. Who else should they worry about?

Collier might have to rest his case now. He knew she had a couple of big scientific guns to pick Clauson apart. She had him on the run.

Gradually, the reckless high she’d been feeling all day had deflated. Clauson had been a sitting duck, and Collier deserved better witnesses.

She looked down at the pad where she had been drawing. She had doodled an enormous animal. You could only see the back of it. It had a head on its tail, and its tail was a ski. It was her defective memory of the surrealist painting she kept thinking about.

The Elephant Celebes, she thought. What are you doing in my case?

Collier walked in, his face grim. ‘‘Call in the judge,’’ he told the clerk.

When Flaherty had seated himself on the bench, Collier said, ‘‘I must report to the Court that there has been a change of circumstances which requires me to request a continuance herein.’’

‘‘A continuance?’’ said Flaherty. ‘‘What’s going on?’’

‘‘I received a phone call from Boulder Hospital about ten minutes ago,’’ Collier said. ‘‘Doc Clauson has suffered a stroke. While driving back to his office, he felt sick. He drove on to the hospital. His physician advises that he’s been admitted. He won’t be able to testify tomorrow.’’

‘‘Do you have any other witnesses scheduled for tomorrow? Maybe he could get back in the next day,’’ Flaherty said.

‘‘I have no other witnesses, but even so, it sounds to me as if his illness may incapacitate him for some time.’’

‘‘Hmm. Well. Under the circumstances, Mrs. Reilly, I suppose I should find out your position on this,’’ said the judge.

‘‘We will not agree to any continuance, Your Honor. The statute plainly says that the defendant has a right to have a preliminary hearing within ten days of the filing of the charges, and for that hearing to continue uninterrupted until completed.’’

‘‘Yes, yes, of course, but if you don’t choose to extend this minimal professional courtesy to Mr. Hallowell, I will be compelled to dismiss the charges without prejudice, and he’ll be free to refile the charges at his convenience, and we’ll have to start all over again.’’

‘‘That’s exactly what I will do,’’ Collier said.

‘‘We’ve gotten this far,’’ Flaherty said, frowning. ‘‘I don’t see why you can’t give it a couple of days until we see how the Doc’s doing. Avoid repetition, waste of judicial resources, that sort of thing.’’

‘‘I’m sorry, Your Honor, but we will stand on the statute.’’ She was doing what was best for Jim, but she wasn’t proud of herself.

‘‘And we will refile the charges, at a time convenient to us,’’ Collier said stiffly.

‘‘Perhaps, upon the further review necessitated by this unfortunate event, the district attorney’s office will change its mind about refiling,’’ said Nina.

‘‘Not gonna happen,’’ Collier said, without looking at her. ‘‘Your Honor, the prosecution is unable to proceed at this time.’’

‘‘You could rest your case, let Mrs. Reilly put on her case, and see how I rule,’’ said Flaherty.

‘‘I can’t go ahead without being able to be in close consultation with the county coroner,’’ Collier said. He was right, he would be lost without Clauson, and he was too experienced to sail on without help.

‘‘Then I suppose we’ll have to bow to the inevitable. You request a dismissal without prejudice at this time?’’

‘‘Yes, Your Honor,’’ Collier said.

‘‘Very well. So ruled.’’ Court adjourned. Flaherty left and the clerk handed out the Minute Order confirming that the case of
People v. Strong
had been dismissed in its entirety.

Until next time.

Collier left without comment, four or five reporters with clipboards and notebooks in hand, trailing behind him.

‘‘Am I free?’’ Jim said. While Nina finished up her notes on what had just happened, he and Nina were still sitting in the courtroom.

‘‘That’s right. All charges have been dismissed. You can even get your bail back. But you might want to wait until we see if Collier refiles the charges within a week. I thought Clauson looked wiped out in court, but— I’d better try to find out how ill he is.’’ Nina wanted time to think about this turn of events. Unsmiling, she packed up her briefcase.

Jim was beaming. ‘‘You won! You beat them!’’

‘‘This round only, Jim. And it was a TKO. We haven’t convinced the D.A.’s office to drop this matter. I think you should assume that they will refile, and we’ll have another prelim in a few weeks.’’

‘‘That’s the future. It might never happen. You’ve been great, Nina. Great.’’ He leaned in and gave her a big hug. Though she wanted to feel good for his sake, his closeness reminded her unpleasantly of the day on the mountain at Paradise. She pulled away quickly.

‘‘Let’s go out and celebrate. Drink champagne,’’ he said.

‘‘Can’t. Sorry. I’ll talk to you soon.’’

‘‘You are so fucking good,’’ he said, as if he couldn’t believe it. He was still shaking his head as she practically ran out the door of the courtroom and headed toward the bathroom, where she waited until she was sure Jim was gone.

She didn’t feel good. She felt nauseated, disgusted, at the whole half-assed proceeding, at her arrogant treatment of the witnesses, particularly Clauson, and at how artificial her defense had seemed to her even as she was pushing it. Granite striations, indeed. She didn’t want to talk to Jim anymore.

The case against him had fallen apart, and she had done what she could to speed up that process, but there had been no trial of the facts by a disinterested third party. Clauson had not marched back into court to do his damnedest to refute her theories about rocks and fibers. Collier had not had any chance to cross-examine the geologist, or to go after Ginger.

If there had been a fair fight and Flaherty had dismissed the case, she would have relaxed and said to herself, yes, thank God, he’s probably innocent, Flaherty thinks so too. Or even if Flaherty had bound Jim over, she would have been able to gauge how realistic the defense theories were, to form her own opinion.

She hadn’t been good. She had been lucky. Too lucky, in a way. So lucky she felt more uneasy than ever.

She washed her hands, combed her hair, and left, alone. Then, feeling like a phony, she gave the shivering reporters who were waiting by the Bronco a couple of posed smiles and selected word bites for tomorrow’s papers, muttering something about vindication.