Chapter X: WITNESSES

After a week, the trial had proceeded smoothly. Both parties had exposed their positions, and neither side had gained any true advantage over the other. And now, the time had come for the few subpoenaed witnesses to appear. The District Attorney had none. The defense was about to begin interrogation with the first of them.

After having sworn on the Bible, Quentin Prudhomme shifted his weight in the seat. Dylan patted Stephanie's knee to wish her good luck as she stood up. She wore sober beige suit and trousers, more discreet and less striking than her client's, who remained the center of attention, for reasons other than his being the accused.

"Mr. Prudhomme, allow me to sympathize with your loss." She said, receiving a nod back from the witness. "Now, could you tell the jury what happened on the night of the sixth of January of 2001."

"I... My brother..." the witness spoke haltedly "... my sister-in-law, and my nephew were murdered."

"Objection!" Adams rose angrily. "Judge, this is irrelevant."

The Judge glared at him and then at Stephanie. "Miss Lancroix, I expect a reason for this gentleman to be sitting here today." He paused. "A reason related to this trial."

"There is, Your Honor." Stephanie went to the defense table and grabbed a file, from which she extracted a large photograph. She handed it to the witness. Prudhomme squirmed as he stared at the image before him. "Mr. Prudhomme, do you recognize that face?"

"Yes..."

"Now... could you tell the jury where were you in the night of the murder of your family?"

"My brother and I had been apart for some time, some quarrel over my calling. I am a priest. It was not until the New Century celebrations that we spoke again..."

"Irrelevant!" Adams barked from his seat.

The Judge glowered at Stephanie who waved in a sign for patience. "Please continue, Mr. Prudhomme."

"I was bringing a present for my nephew. He was only six months old. It was a toy to hang over his cradle..." Prudhomme paused in angst, and let emotion pass "I was only a few houses away when I saw someone leaving my brother's house. A man, who passed by me. I arrived and found the door open..."

Stephanie approached the witness, who had stopped again. "Mr. Prudhomme," she said coldly, maybe too coldly, "was it the man of the photograph?"

"Yes..." the witness stammered.

"So..." she addressed the jury. "Mr. Prudhomme found his brother, sister-in-law and nephew murdered. And it was the man of this photograph... the same man my client allegedly murdered!" she spoke firmly.

"Your Honor..." Adams rose "It is irrelevant."

"No, it is not!" Stephanie countered fiercely. "The man was a dangerous and violent man. He could have induced my client into the battle!"

Dylan stared amazed. The girl was indeed good. He glanced at his client, who rolled his eyes upon the lie that had just been told, yet with a smirk in his face. Dylan knew that Waingartner was surreptitiously impressed too.

"Your Honor..." Adams pleaded pitifully to the Judge.

"Denied." The Judge mused calmly. Stephanie gazed at Dylan, who nodded slightly.

"No further questions." She said.

Adams stood up and buttoned his suit. Dylan saw confidence in him. It troubled him.

"Mr. Prudhomme... pardon me for asking this question but... did you want the assassin of your family to die?"

Dylan smirked at the seemingly dumb question but his joy vanished when he saw Prudhomme hesitating. The priest glanced away and sighed, as he held a crucifix in his hand.

"Yes..." the witness mused. Dylan closed his eyes in shock. Enough to cast a shadow of a doubt on his entire testimony.

"No more questions, your Honor."

"You are dismissed, Mr. Prudhomme. Thank you." Young farewelled the witness, who walked away gazing at the floor in pain.

Stephanie had barely seated when she had to rise again. She dithered as to what to do, stunned as well by the turn of events. "We're..." her jaw quivered. She was panicked. She placed her hand on the table, seeming unbalanced.

"Your Honor," Dylan rose with firmness in his voice. "We'd like to call Dr. David Bannion."

A bulky, gray-haired man was introduced into the room and showed to the seat. After taking the oath under the Bible, he was ready. Dylan glanced at Stephanie, who was taking a glass of water. She beamed at him and proceeded.

"Mr. Bannion, could you tell the jury what you do for a living?"

"I'm a psychologist." Bannion replied calmly.

"And you were requested to meet my client?"

"Yes. The police inspector insisted."

"Could you share your results?"

"Mr. Jones showed a normal condition, with a tendency to violence upon pressure." The response was brief and detached.

After some technical questions about Jones' condition, Stephanie finished with the client. Adams rose but remained in his place. Dylan feared with reason.

"The defense team paid you to attend here today, didn't it?"

"They paid the equivalent to my fee at this time of the day. I should be at college teaching." Bannion seemed sedated, given the calm response and his unanxious tone.

"Thank you. That's it." Adams sat again.

"You're dismissed, Dr. Bannion." The psychologist nodded and left. "Miss Lancroix, do you have any other witness?"

"Yes, Your Honor. We'd like to call Police Inspector Leigh Langdon."

Silence followed. The door didn't open. The bailiff went to see if something had happened to the other bailiff on the other side. Dylan cursed to himself. Adams had been brief and precise. One simple question to void the unquestionability of their witnesses. Things did not look too bright.

The bailiff returned and he approached the Judge. He mused something. Young's scowl darkened as he nodded. "Miss Lancroix, Mr. Landgon is not here."

Dylan grinned in frustration. Despite being the one that had arrested their client, Landgon doubted the coldness of the murder. Dylan found him an objective witness with nothing to lose or gain upon the innocence or want thereof of the defendant. The panorama was darker now.

"No more witnesses then, your Honor."

Young adjourned. Dylan remained in his seat as the rest rose. Stephanie went for a brief exchange with Adams. Waingartner leant in to speak to him.

"We're fucked, aren't we?"

The accused man broke into a mad giggling. Dylan found the insanity of the man unconceivable. He rose silently and walked out. He needed air...