Regan turned away from the witness stand. McCoy was looking down at his hands folded on the bar table in front of him. Cutter was staring straight ahead, stony-faced. Only Connie Rubirosa caught Regan's gaze. The ADA couldn't smile, not with the People's case brought tumbling down, but she gave Regan a tiny nod.
Regan couldn't smile, either. She knew she should be buoyed along on a wave of triumph, should want to punch the air and grin from ear-to-ear, but all she could feel was a sense of relief so profound it left her hollow and numb.
And I'm not done yet.
"Keri," she said quietly, "are you admitting that your testimony against Mr McCoy is false?"
Miserably, Keri Dyson nodded.
"Are you admitting that Mr McCoy didn't in fact assault you at all?"
Keri nodded again.
"Thank you, Keri. Your honor, I have no further questions for this witness."
"Mr Cutter, do you seek to redirect?"
Mike Cutter shook his head. "No, your honor," he said tonelessly.
"Very well. Ms Dyson, you've just admitted to several very serious charges. The bailiffs will take you into custody for the time being."
Keri nodded, and let the bailiff escort her out.
"Approach, your honor?" Cutter said.
Wright waved him forward, including Regan in the gesture.
"Your honor," Cutter said quietly, "the People are ready to go nol pros at this time."
"And I'm ready to dismiss your case with prejudice attached," Wright said. "And don't think that offering to withdraw the prosecution at this point is going to save you, and your office, from criticism from the bench."
"Your honor, I can honestly tell you that at this point, that is not my concern." Cutter said, and Regan thought he was telling the truth
"Your honor," she said, "There is the question of my client's reputation. If you dismiss the charges, or the D.A.'s Office withdraws at this point, suspicion will always remain that Mr. McCoy was the beneficiary of the old boy's club, or of some kind of legal trickery. I want him acquitted by the jury. I want absolutely, unquestionably, no doubt about his innocence – not just his lack of legally provable guilt."
"I'll make a statement to that effect," Cutter offered. "Apologize on behalf of the office – "
"Arthur Branch will have your hide," Regan said.
He gave her a tiny smile. "I know," he said, and shrugged. "But really – is the view from the 10th floor so much better?"
"I don't think you need to worry about Mr McCoy's reputation, Ms Markham," Judge Wright said. "It's not as if this is the result of some conversation in chambers that no-one knows about. About twenty reporters just heard the complaining witness admit the charges were a fabrication from whole cloth."
"Nonetheless, your honor," Regan said. "I have three witnesses prepared to testify as to the events of that evening, witnesses who will prove the assault never took place. Could never have taken place."
Cutter paused. "The People have no objection to Ms Markham calling her witnesses, your honor. In the interests of justice."
"Very well." They stepped back, and Judge Wright turned to the jury. "Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, you've just heard some extraordinary testimony. Based on the admissions by Ms Dyson, I would be prepared to entertain a motion by the defense to dismiss the charges, and you could all go home. However, the defense wishes to call witnesses to verify the statements used to impeach the previous witness, and I'm going to allow it. Do you understand?"
One of the jurors raised his hand. "Uh, your honor?"
"Yes?"
"So we can consider what they said as evidence now?"
"You can," Judge Wright said, and the juror nodded. The judge turned back to the court. "Ms Markham, you didn't make an opening statement at the beginning of the trial. Do you wish to make one now?"
"Yes, your honor," Regan said. "A brief one."
The judge nodded, and she turned to the jury. She couldn't remember a single word of what she'd practiced, what McCoy had coached her in, but it didn't matter. That had been a speech for a lawyer, a speech to pick apart Cutter's case and persuade the jury to believe her own.
Instead, Regan faced the jury. She put her hands in her pockets and just talked to them. "You're probably wondering why we're still here." One or two of the jurors nodded, and Regan smiled at them. "You've just heard Keri Dyson admit that the charges are entirely made up, and you've just heard the judge say he's willing to dismiss the charges. You all want to go home. Honestly, I'd like to go home too. But the thing is, as you probably guessed from some of the questions I asked Keri Dyson, I can prove Mr McCoy never laid a finger on her even without her admitting it. And I'd like to do that, before we all get out of here, so that no-one, looking back at this trial, can ever say that maybe Keri Dyson was badgered into admitting her lies. No-one can say I scared her, or threatened her, or confused her. I want it all on the record, for Mr McCoy. If the judge dismisses the charges, Mr McCoy is not guilty. I want everyone to know that he's not just not guilty. I want everyone to know he's innocent. So I'll ask you to bear with me a little while here, and I'll get through it as fast as I can. Okay?"
More nods. They were with her now, Regan could feel it. She could have rested her case and even without Cutter's offer of nolle prosequi, the jury would acquit.
She held to her promise to the jury of getting through it quickly. Enrico Rodriguez, then Joe Evatt, and then Doctor Margolis, each took the stand and Regan walked them through the evening matter-of-factly, making sure the jury — and every reporter in the courtroom — knew that there had never been a moment when Jack McCoy had been alone with Keri Dyson, never even the possibility that he'd struck her. Cutter declined to cross-examine each witness, looking sicker and sicker to his stomach as the morning wore on.
Finally Dr Margolis stepped down from the witness stand.
"The defense rests, your honor, and thank you for the indulgence."
Cutter rose to his feet. "Your honor, at this time, nolle prosequi." That was all he was required to say by law and convention, but he kept talking. "We accept, given the evidence presented to this court, that the charges are unfounded, that they should never have been brought, and on behalf of the office of the District Attorney, I offer sincere apologies to Mr McCoy for the injury done to him by this groundless prosecution, to the court, and to the jury."
Regan rose as well. "Your honor, as much as I appreciate Mr Cutter's public admission of Mr McCoy's innocence, at this time defense moves for a dismissal of all charges, with prejudice."
Judge Wright nodded. "So ordered," he said. "Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, the prosecution has made the admission that there is no evidence to sustain the charge against Mr McCoy. Mr Cutter has sought to formally withdraw the prosecution against him. I am dismissing all charges against Mr McCoy. Do you understand?"
The same juror as before raised his hand. "So we don't get to give a verdict?"
The judge shook his head. "No. I thank you for your time, and for your patience, but given the evidence presented to the court, the admissions by the main witness for the prosecution, and Mr Cutter's decision not to continue, there's no need for a verdict."
"But you're finding him innocent, right?" the juror persisted.
"Not guilty," the judge corrected, "but yes. Mr McCoy is a free man."
"Your honor," Regan said. "Is there any harm in the jury being polled?"
Judge Wright's eyebrows went up. "Without a verdict?"
"Court of public opinion, your honor."
"Very well," he said. "It's irregular, but I'll allow it. Bailiff?"
The jury now looked thoroughly confused as the bailiff came forward with the jury roll. One by one, she read out the names of the jurors, and asked each one if they found the defendant guilty or not guilty.
Regan sat at the bar table, holding on to her pen so hard her fingers went white, as eleven voices said, one after the other, not guilty, not guilty, not guilty …
"Innocent," said the last juror, firmly, and a little laugh rippled around the courtroom. Even Judge Wright's mouth twitched up at the corner as he thanked the jury and released them.
The gavel banged down. The court rose.
It was over.
Regan let herself look at McCoy, but he was twisted around to look back into the observers' section, frowning. Regan realized he was looking for his sister. "Jack," she said.
The look he gave her was distant. We're not done with this, he'd said on the way into the courtroom.
He's not a man who forgives. What he sees as betrayal – he's not a man who forgives.
"You'd better make sure Kibre is fully appraised of what happened today," McCoy said, and then he was out of his chair and gone.
.oOo.
A/N: In fact, I believe that in New York, the term nolle prosequi ("we shall no longer prosecute") is not used by a prosecutor to indicate the dropping of charges, but I like the Latin too much not to use it.
