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Yuki had had moments of regret about leaving the Defense League, but today, sitting beside Len Parisi at the prosecution table, she felt fully satisfied with her decision. The opportunity to lock up Connor Grant was monumental. If ever there was a case for the death penalty, this was it.

She and Len had discussed every aspect of the case, the strengths and weaknesses, and now Len was very still, no doubt silently rehearsing his opening. Yuki used the pretrial moments to steady her nerves with an affirmation: You’re prepared. Len’s the best. The case is solid. Trust the jury. Repeat.

Yuki shot a quick glance across the aisle to the defense table, where opposition counsel, Elise Antonelli, sat with her unfathomable client, Connor Grant. She and Grant were speaking together behind their hands. Yuki read conflict in their expressions, but their voices never rose above a whisper.

The gallery, the rows of seats behind the bar, was full. The victims’ families, survivors of the blast, and reporters waited expectantly for the trial to start.

At the bench, Judge Hoffman repositioned his glasses, spoke to the court reporter and then to the bailiff, who read the charges against Connor Grant, and called the court into session.

Hoffman looked to the prosecution table and said, “Mr. Parisi. Are the People ready?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“Then let’s proceed with opening statements.”

Red Dog Parisi got slowly to his feet. He was six foot four, three hundred pounds more or less. His skin was acnescarred and he had coarse, rust-colored hair. He wore a black suit, white shirt, and red tie. He’d once been described as looking like a cross between a yeti and a superpower avenger. When this large, homely man said that he was doing the people’s work, it felt good to have him on your side.

Parisi lumbered out to the well of the courtroom and fixed his eyes on the jury. Their eyes were also fixed on him.

CHAPTER 29

PARISI WALKED TO the podium that had been set up in the well, halfway between the bench and the jury box, and addressed the court.

“Your Honor, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, it’s been a while since I’ve personally tried a case. In my job as district attorne

y of San Francisco County, and I am responsible for over one hundred attorneys ADAs in my office, and I oversee dozens of cases and trials.

“So, why am I standing before you today? Because Connor Grant, the smiling man in the cheerful blue sports coat sitting at the defense table, is a mass murderer who deliberately, with malice aforethought and considerable skill, destroyed Sci-Tron, a science museum on Pier 15. In so doing, he killed twenty-five of the people who were inside.”

Yuki felt a thrill as she heard Len’s voice. He was keeping his anger to a slow burn. The jurors could hear the fury. They could feel the heat.

Parisi went on.

“Those twenty-five people—in fact, all of the people who happened to be inside the museum that day—were of no interest to Mr. Grant. He never even thought about them. Mr. Grant simply wanted to blow the museum into billions of little pieces, and the living people were, as far as we can tell from Mr. Grant, utterly inconsequential.”

Yuki watched the jurors, who had fixed their attention on Len. He swept his gaze across the length of the box, looking at each one, before he picked up the thread of his opening.

“Ladies and gentlemen, among the twenty-five deceased are three firefighters, three selfless men who were caught in the secondary blast. Some fifty other people were injured, maimed, traumatized. And then there are all of the unnamed friends and families of the victims, hundreds of people who are grieving, emotionally damaged, who will never be the same again.

“During the course of this trial, you will hear that Connor Grant confessed to the police that he had blown up Sci-Tron even as the aftershock of the bomb reverberated in the air and the sirens and the screams echoed along the Embarcadero.

“Later, when Mr. Grant realized that he had trapped himself and that he was going to be tried for this terrible crime, he recanted his confession. Too late. We will present witness testimony that Mr. Grant proudly admitted to perpetrating this conscienceless attack. He was bragging. He was self-congratulatory.”

Parisi shook his head, conveying his disgust with the defendant’s actions. Yuki, having gone over his opening remarks with him, knew he was about to lay down the foundation of their case.

He said, “But even if Mr. Grant hadn’t confessed, the proof against him is overwhelming. As you will learn during this trial, he had not only the means, but the motive and the opportunity to blow up Sci-tron.

“Did Connor Grant have the means to make a bomb of sufficient size and force to blow up this large glass-and-steel building? Yes, he did. We will show you that Mr. Grant, a science teacher, had an unusual degree of interest in explosives, and all of the tools necessary to blow up … anything.

“We will show you photos of the bomb-making laboratory in the defendant’s garage and his book-in-progress that describes in detail how to build bombs of all types with ingredients easily obtained in your local pharmacy and hardware store. He even described how to create the type of bomb that was used to take down Sci-Tron.

“He had the knowledge and the tools.

“Did Connor Grant have the opportunity to place this bomb and detonate it? Yes, he did. The museum was open seven days a week. He had a membership card, frequented this museum, and is familiar to many of the people who worked there. He could easily have brought in the bomb, which was disguised as a fire extinguisher, and armed it without alarming anyone. And after he left the building, the sight of a fire extinguisher wouldn’t alert anyone to its real purpose.

“As to motive,” Parisi went on, “that is complicated.”

Yuki watched Len pause, reload, and fire.

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