The Jury Master (46 page)

The United States returned Miguel Ibarón’s body to Mexico. The official pronouncement of the cause of death was that the senior statesman had died of complications associated with his cancer, but with the knowledge that he had served Mexico with dignity and honor. It was said that he received a statesman’s burial.

Parker Madsen was not as fortunate. His body was recovered from the burned-out hull of his car. An autopsy revealed that the White House chief of staff had been legally drunk when he drove his car off a steep embankment and crashed into a tree. His image would also not survive. Weeks after Madsen’s death the
Washington Post
cited confidential sources reporting that Madsen’s death was likely a suicide, and that he had taken his own life when word leaked that he had commanded an ultrasecret paramilitary force suspected of perpetrating atrocities on civilians in Vietnam and perhaps in other countries. Shortly after that report, the front page became the forum for President Robert Peak’s stunning decision to resign the presidency because of unspecified family concerns. Political analysts said it was a mere formality, given the United States-Mexico oil agreement he had negotiated. Peak’s staunchest supporters, the oil and car industries, were livid. Analysts called it political suicide.

Alberto Castañeda returned to Mexico a hero of the Mexican people. They likened his bold actions in securing the agreement to Lázaro Cárdenas’s nationalization of the Mexican oil industry some sixty years before. Mexican newspapers said Castañeda returned emboldened, and predicted he would do great things for the Mexican people with his country’s newfound wealth.

Tom Molia had discovered the power of e-mail, writing to Sloane often, usually to send him a joke. He continued to work as a detective, telling Sloane he didn’t know what he would do with himself if he didn’t have J. Rayburn Franklin busting his balls. He had sent Sloane a photograph, now held by magnets on Sloane’s refrigerator door, of the detective standing next to a green 1969 Chevy. On the back he wrote, “Does not have air conditioning.”

Sloane slid the photograph of Charles Jenkins and Alex Hart into the pocket of his blue blazer and stood as the bailiff called the proceedings to order. Judge Brian Wilbur entered the courtroom. A balding man with angular features and the athletic build of an All-American college basketball player, Judge Wilbur took his seat atop the bench beneath the seal of the great state of Washington, arranged a stack of papers, and looked down at Sloane.

“Counsel, are you prepared to give an opening statement?”

“I am, Your Honor.”

Sloane pushed back his chair, stood, and buttoned his jacket. Then he unsnapped the binder and removed the pages of his opening statement, smiled at the act, and put them back. As he started from counsel’s table his client reached out and squeezed his hand. He paused briefly to lean down and whisper reassurance in her ear.

“
Volverá bien
” (It will be all right), he said.

Then he turned and approached the jury.

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. My name is David Sloane, and I represent the plaintiff.”