“Let’s talk for a minute about what they have,” Grueman said. “I believe we can count on Jason Story testifying, and Officer Lucero. And, of course, Marino. I don’t know who else Patterson will include in this Star Chamber proceeding of his.”
“For the record,” Wesley said, looking at me, “I have spoken to Patterson. I’ve told him he doesn’t have a case and I’ll testify to that at the trial”
“We’re assuming there will be no trial,” Grueman said. “And when you go in, I want you to make sure the jurors know that you talked to Patterson and told him he has no case but he insisted on going forward. Whenever he asks a question and you respond by addressing an issue that you have already addressed with him in private, I want you to say so. “As I told you in your office or ‘As I clearly stated when we spoke whenever it was; et cetera, et cetera.”
“It is implant that the jurors know that you are not only an FBI special agent, but that you are the chief of the Behavioral Science Unit at Quantico, the purpose of which is to analyze violent crime and develop psychological profiles of the perpetrators. You may wish to state that Dr. Scarpetta in no way, shape, or form fits the profile of the perpetrator of the crime in question; and in fact, that you find the thought absurd. It is also important that you impress upon the jurors that you were Mark James’s mentor and closest friend. Volunteer whatever you can because you can rest assured that Patterson isn’t going to ask. Make it dear to the jurors that Charlie Hale is them.”
“What if they do not request me?” Charlie Hale asked.
“Then our hands are tied,” Grueman replied. “As I explained when we talked in London, this is the prosecutor’s show. Dr. Scarpetta has no right to present any evidence so we have to get at least one of the jurors to invite us in through the back door.”
“That’s quite something,” Hale said.
“You have the copies of the deposit slip and the fees you have paid?”
“Yes, sir.
‘Very good. Don’t wait to be asked. Just put them on the table as you’re talking. And the status of your wife is the same, since we spoke?”
“Yes, sir. As I told you, she’s had the in vitro ferrtilizaliion. So far, so good.”
“Remember to get that in if you can,” Grueman said.
Several minutes later, I was summoned to the jury room.
“Of course. He wants you first.”
Grueman got up with me. “Then he’ll call in your detractors so he can leave a bad taste in the jurors’ mouths.”
He went as far as the door. “I will be right here when you need me.”
Nodding, I went inside and took the empty chair at the head of the table. Patterson was out of the room, and I knew this was one of his gambits. He wanted me to endure the silent scrutiny of these ten strangers who held my welfare in their hands. I met the gazes of all and even exchanged smiles with a few. A serious young woman wearing bright red lipstick decided not to wait for the Commonwealth’s Attorney.
“What made you decide to deal with dead people instead of the living?” she asked. “It seems a strange thing for a doctor to choose.”
“It is my intense concern for the living that makes me study the dead,” I said. “What we learn from the dead is for the benefit of the living, and justice is for those left behind.”
“Don’t it get to you?” inquired an old man with big, rough hands. The expression on his fare was so sincere that he seemed in pain.
“Of course it does.”
“How many years did you have to go to school after you graduated from high school?” asked a heavyset black woman.
“Seventeen years, if you include residencies and the year I was a fellow.”
“Lord have mercy.”
“Where all did you go?”
“To school, you mean?” I said to the thin young man wearing glasses. .
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Saint Michael’s, Our Lady of Lourdes Academy, Cornell, Johns Hopkins, Georgetown.”