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“Okay, then. This form was presented to you by Sergeant Lindsay Boxer and Inspector Richard Conklin when you were interviewed at the police station on April nineteenth.
“It says here, ‘Before we ask you any questions you must understand your rights. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.’ And here’s a set of initials. Are they yours?”
Junie peered at the document, said, “Yes.”
Yuki read the entire form, stopping at each point to fire the question at Junie: “Did you understand this? Are these your initials?” Bang, bang, bang.
And after each question, Junie scrutinized the paper and said, “Yes.”
“And here at the bottom is a waiver of rights. It says that you understand your rights, that you don’t want a lawyer, that no threats have been made against you, that you weren’t coerced. Did you sign this?”
“Yes, ma’am, I did.”
“And did you tell the police that Michael Campion died in your house and that you disposed of his body?”
“Yes.”
“Did you feel tricked or intimidated by the police?”
“No.”
Yuki walked to the prosecution table, put down the form, collected a nod from Parisi, and turned back to the defendant.
“Why did you make this confession?”
“I wanted to help the police.”
“I’m confused, Ms. Moon. You wanted to help them. So first you said you never met Mr. Campion. Then you said he died in your arms. Then you said you left his body parts in a Dumpster. Then you said you made up the story to please the police — because that’s the kind of person you are.
“Ms. Moon. Which lie do you want us to believe?”
Junie shot a startled look to her attorney, then stared at Yuki, stuttered incoherently, her lips quivering, tears sliding down her pale face, before choking out, “I’m sorry. I don’t know . . . I don’t know what to say.”
A woman’s voice sounded out from the gallery, directly behind the defense table. “STOP!”
Yuki turned toward the voice, as did every other person in the courtroom. The speaker was Valentina Campion, wife of the former governor, mother of the dead boy. She was standing, resting a hand on her husband’s shoulder for support.
Yuki felt her blood drain to her feet.
“I can’t stand what she’s doing to that poor child,” Valentina Campion said to her husband. Then she edged past him to the aisle, and as two hundred people swiveled in their seats to watch her, Mrs. Campion exited the courtroom.
Chapter 85
YUKI HAD SPENT THE NIGHT flopping like a beached tuna, and she was still sweating this morning, thinking how first she’d been sandbagged by her fricking boss. And then Valentina Campion had thrown her under an eighteen-wheeler!
People bond during trials, Yuki knew that, and strange attachments were made. But Mrs. Campion protecting the defendant? That was crazy! Didn’t she realize that Yuki was on her side? That she was trying to do the right thing by her son?
Now the buzz in the courtroom grew as spectators and reporters watched L. Diana Davis take her seat. Davis looked smug, Yuki thinking that her opponent must’ve gotten drunk last night on self-congratulation.
Junie Moon was escorted into the courtroom. Davis stood, sat when her client sat, and immediately after they were both seated, the bailiff called out, “All rise.”
There was a muffled whoosh of people standing as the judge limped to the bench. The jury filed in, dropped their bags, settled into their seats. Judge Bendinger spoke to the jury, reminded them of his instructions. Then he asked Yuki if she was ready to give her summation, and she said that she was.
But she wasn’t sure.
She gathered her notes, stood tall in her Jimmy Choos, and walked to the lectern. She put her notes in front of her and blocked out everyone but the jury. She ignored Parisi’s placid bulk, Twilly’s mocking smile, Davis’s hauteur, and the defendant’s pathetic fragility. She even looked past Cindy, who gave her a thumbs-up from the back row.
Yuki stood a poster-sized photo of Michael Campion on the easel, turned it so it faced the jury. She paused to let everyone see the face of the boy who was so beloved that citizens of the world included him in their prayers at night.
