Judge & Jury - James Patterson [51]
Chapter 62
MONICA ANN ROMANO SUSPECTED what was in the small bundle she was carrying, and it made her want to throw up.
She had taken it from the man she once trusted. Now she walked nervously across the square, showing her federal ID and passing by the guarded police barricades to the courthouse. It was the most nerve-racking thing she had ever done in her life. By a lot.
Finally, she stood in the courthouse employee line. Every bag was being opened. Even the lawyers’ and their staffs’. Monica knew who was in the courthouse that day: Dominic Cavello.
“Big doings today, hon,” chirped Mike, a lobby guard with a large handlebar mustache, who pulled her through the maze of people and over to the authorized personnel line.
“Uh-huh.” Monica nodded nervously. She smiled hello to a couple of familiar faces.
The guy in front of her, a lawyer with a beard and long hair, opened his case. Monica was next. Pablo, who always teased her about the Mets, caught her eye and smiled. Her heart was beating savagely. She felt the weight of the bundle pressing down on her. What if they looked inside?
The lawyer in front of her closed his case, passing through. Now it was just her and Pablo. Could he hear her heart pounding? Holding her breath, Monica stepped into the gate.
“How’s the weekend, hon?” The guard took a perfunctory peek inside her handbag. “You catch those Mets?”
“Sure I did.” Monica nodded, closing her eyes, expecting a loud beep to go off. Her life to be over.
It didn’t. Nothing happened. She stepped through. Just like every other day. A tremor of relief went through her. Thank God.
“See you at lunch,” Pablo said. She started to hurry away. Then she heard him call, “Hey, Monica.”
Monica Ann Romano froze, and she turned around slowly.
The guard flashed her a wink. “I like your hat.”
Chapter 63
THE LAWYERS WERE IN the courtroom. Cavello, too. Judge Barnett gazed out at the nervous group of prospective jurors who had cautiously filed in. “I doubt there’s a person in this room who doesn’t know why we’re here,” he said.
Each juror had been given a number. They all took a seat. Every eye seemed to be glancing at the gaunt, gray-haired man who sat with his legs crossed in front of them. Then they looked away, as if afraid to let their eyes linger too long. That’s Cavello, their faces said.
I turned back to Andie, who only moments before had watched as the bastard was led in. Cavello’s handcuffs were removed. He took a look around the courtroom. Cavello seemed to find Andie immediately, as if he knew she would be there. He paused and gave her a slight, respectful nod.
But her gaze didn’t waver. It seemed to be telling him, You can’t hurt me anymore. She wasn’t going to give him the thrill of seeing her look scared. She clenched her palms against the railing. Finally she looked away. When she lifted her eyes again, they landed on mine. She gave me a thin smile. I’m okay; I’m good. He’s going down.
“I also doubt there’s a person among you who truly wants to be here,” Judge Barnett went on. “Some of you may feel you don’t belong here. Some might even be afraid. But, be assured, if called, it is your legal and moral duty to serve on the trial. And twelve of you are going to serve—with six more as alternates. What is my duty is to remove whatever fear and discomfort many of you may be feeling, given the defendant’s last trial.
“Therefore, your names and addresses, anything about your family or what you do, will not be released—not even to the members of this court. Those selected will spend the next six to eight weeks confined to the Fort Dix army base in New Jersey, where this trial will take place.
“I know no one is eager to give up their lives and remain separated from family and loved ones for that amount of time. But the defendant must be tried—that is all our duties. A jury will be decided upon—and he will be tried. Anyone who refuses to do his or her duty will be held in contempt of court.”
The judge nodded to the clerk. “Now, is there anyone in this room who, due to some commitment or handicap,