Page 65 of Camino Ghosts

“Yes, sir.”

“Very well. And you want them entered into evidence?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Any objections?”

Neither Evan Killebrew nor Monty Martin objected, because they knew it would do no good. Judge Burch was admitting everything to review later.

Steven said, “Your Honor, I have Blanche Henry under subpoena to testify if needed. She’s just across the street. Do you or counsel opposite wish to hear her testimony?”

Judge Burch looked at the two lawyers. Monty Martin stood and said, “I believe the point has been made, Your Honor. The evidence is in the record.” Killebrew nodded his agreement.

7.

In his glory days as the top litigator for the Sierra Club, Steven had been known for his meticulous pre-trial preparation. For him, as for all great trial lawyers, it was the key to winning. Every phase of every trial was planned, then rehearsed over and over. Witnesses were given scripts, then coached by the trial team. Psychologists, even drama coaches, were sometimes hired to help witnesses. Phantom juries were paid to hear and evaluate the evidence. Of course, Steven had bigger budgets in those days. The Barrier Island Legal Defense Fund operated on a shoestring and couldn’t afford the experts. What it could do, though, was put in the hours.

The Friday before the trial, with the courthouse practically deserted, Steven and Diane ushered Lovely into the empty courtroom, put her on the witness stand, and walked her through her testimony. Steven then turned the tables, playing the role of an opposing lawyer, and tried to confuse her on cross-examination. The following day, Saturday, Lovely and Miss Naomi spent hours in Steven’s office polishing her testimony, cutting unnecessary dialogue, working on the soft spots. She would be by far the most important witness and she had to be believable. At the end of the day, both Steven and Diane were convinced she could go toe-to-toe with the “bad lawyers,” as she called them.

When Steven tendered the witness early Tuesday morning, Monty Martin stepped confidently to the podium and said hello. Lovely glared at him and did not return the greeting.

“Ms. Jackson, when did you decide to file this petition to clear the title to Dark Isle?”

Diane hid a smile. The question had been put to Lovely at least three different ways over the weekend.

“Last summer,” she answered. Keep your answers short! Volunteer nothing!

“And what prompted you to file this petition?”

“A casino.”

“A casino?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Would you care to explain?”

“I don’t understand your question.”

“Okay. Why did a casino force you to file this petition?”

“Nobody forced me to. I did it because I wanted to. It’s the right thing to do.”

“And why is that?”

“Because the island doesn’t belong to a casino. It belongs to me and my people, the ones buried on it.”

Monty picked up a copy of her memoir and said, “According to your book, and also your deposition, you left Dark Isle in 1955. Is that correct?”

“It is.”

“But you filed nothing in court until last summer, 2020.”

“What’s your question?”

“Why did you wait sixty-five years before trying to clear the title?”

Word for word, the exact question Diane had written weeks ago. She could also recite Lovely’s answer.

---