Page 139 of Precise Justice

“Nothing further,” Marc said concluding his cross examination.

“Mr. Hughes?” Foster asked.

“Reverend Gimble, you came forward because you knew it was a matter for the authorities to determine what to do with what you heard . . .”

“Objection asked and answered and leading the witness,” Marc said.

“Sustained,” Foster ruled.

“Do you believe the statement now?” Hughes asked then immediately regretted it.

“I don’t know for sure,” a confused Reverend Gimble barely muttered.

“I’m sorry,” Marc quickly said. “I didn’t hear the witnesses answer.”

“No, I don’t know for sure,” Gimble said adding the word no to make it even worse.

“Nothing further, your Honor,” Hughes said almost in exasperation.

The state’s last witness, the one they wanted to make the most impact especially with the weekend coming up, the last thing the jury would hear from them, just blew up in their faces.

The prosecution rested and Foster adjourned.

As the courtroom was emptying for the weekend, Philo Anson came through the gate to Marc. “Hey, counselor. You did a pretty good job on their expert and the good reverend,” Philo told Marc.

“Stick around Philo. This trial starts Monday morning,” Marc replied.

FIFTY-ONE

While waiting for Judge Foster to come out to the bench, Marc spun his chair around to look at the gallery. He found Philo Anson seated in the front row but on the aisle seat this time.

“I brought you some company,” Marc told Philo.

“I see that. I think he’s trying to push me out,” Philo said.

The person Philo referred to was Tony Carvelli. Carvelli was the one next to Philo and was enjoying squeezing him. Two seats away from Carvelli was Maddy. In between her and Carvelli was a very attractive, short-haired, brown eyed brunette.

Her name was Paxton O’Rourke and she was an assistant United States Attorney from Chicago. Until recently she had been Carvelli’s long distance girlfriend. Paxton had foolishly been briefly involved with another man. He was a married federal district court judge and a man ten years older than Carvelli. Paxton was twelve years younger than Carvelli. It was an awkward situation, especially when Paxton discovered she was not an exclusive mistress and the judge’s wife found out about both of them. A reconciliation was still in the beginning stage between Paxton and Carvelli.

Judge Foster began the Monday morning session with a reminder of court decorum. Toward the end of the state’s case, the gallery attendance had dwindled a bit. This morning, every seat was taken again.

“Ms. Moore, I understand you will give the opening statement for the defense,” Foster said.

Jennifer stood and said, “Yes, your Honor.”

“You may proceed.”

Jennifer walked up to within two feet of the alternates seated in front of the jury box.

“Good morning,” Jennifer began. “In case you may have forgotten, my name is Jennifer Moore. Along with my cocounsel, Marc Kadella…”

Marc stood, looked at the jurors, nodded and smiled slightly. Robbie, dressed in women’s navy blue slacks and a white blouse, also stood.

“…we proudly represent the accused, Roberta Craig-Powell.

“For those of you who may have wondered, the woman sitting behind our table, is Madeline Rivers. She is a private investigator who works with us.”

Jennifer paused for a moment and looked at three or four men who appeared to be writing down Maddy’s name.

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