Afraid of the Dark - James Grippando [50]
“Good afternoon, Mr. Paulo.”
Vince showed little expression. “Sergeant Paulo,” he said.
“Sergeant,” said Jack. “First, let me say that I regret having to subpoena you to appear in court today. I know—” he started to say, then stopped himself, thinking of their phone conversation. “I can only imagine how difficult this must be.”
Vince did not reply, and for Jack the silence was somewhat unnerving.
Jack continued. “I’ve read the sworn affidavit of your testimony that the prosecutor presented to the grand jury. I’ve also listened to the recording of your last words with McKenna Mays on the day she died. I understand that you were a police officer at that time, but just to be clear, you were not on the scene in response to a call for help, were you?”
“No, I was not.”
“I believe you stated in your affidavit that Mr. Mays was out of town, and you went to the Mays residence to check on McKenna.”
“Actually, Mr. Mays told me that he was concerned about—”
“Excuse me, Sergeant. Judge, what Mr. Mays told the witness is inadmissible hearsay.”
The prosecutor rose. “Is that some kind of objection?”
Even without a jury—judges were human, too—Jack couldn’t let the witness testify that McKenna’s father feared Jamal might come around while he was out of town. “Your Honor, what I’d like is simply an answer to my questions.”
“The witness will answer the questions asked,” said the judge, “without mention of what others may have told him.”
“Let me restate it,” said Jack. “You went there to check on McKenna, but not on official business.”
Vince shifted in his chair, and it obviously pained him not to be able to take a shot at Jamal. “Basically, yes.”
“You and McKenna’s father were friends?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“At that time, I’d say about seven years.”
“Since McKenna was in elementary school, then?”
“That sounds right.”
“Would you describe your relationship with McKenna as close?”
“She used to call me Uncle Vince, if that answers your question.”
“Would you say that she regarded you as someone she could trust?”
“Of course,” said Vince.
“Someone she could rely on?”
“There was nothing I wouldn’t have done for McKenna.”
“Someone who would tell the truth?”
“Objection,” said the prosecutor, rising.
“Overruled. The witness will answer.”
Vince paused, but Jack didn’t read it as any kind of confusion as to courtroom procedures. It was the question that had given him pause—Vince’s acute awareness that defense lawyers didn’t ask questions without a hidden agenda. “She certainly had no reason to think I was a liar,” said Vince.
“Exactly,” said Jack. “McKenna Mays had no reason to believe that her uncle Vince would lie to her. Correct?”
Again he hesitated, but Jack had left him little wiggle room. “I would say that’s true.”
Jack faced the judge. “With the court’s permission, I would like to play the answering machine recording of McKenna Mays. It’s the key piece of evidence in the state’s case against my client.”
“No objection,” said the prosecutor.
“All right, let’s hear it,” said the judge.
Neil came forward to help the judicial assistant find the CD among the grand jury materials. She marked it, inserted it into the player, and then waited for Jack’s cue.
“Just to set the stage,” said Jack. “Sergeant Paulo, can you tell us exactly where you were at the time of this recording.”
Vince was slow to respond. “I was in her bedroom,” he said, his tone forced, as if it were a struggle not to get emotional.
Jack knew that these were painful memories for him, but seeing his reaction—and knowing that he had no choice but to take him down this road—was almost equally painful for Jack. “Where was McKenna?”
“On the floor,” he said softly. “I knelt at her side, and raised her head up.”
Jack wished he didn’t have to