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table, courteously ridding herself of Levy’s touch.

‘Go on,’ said Tyler.

‘I came upstairs, and his bedroom door was open. He was laying there in the dark. I called his name but …’ She shook her head, the tears falling freely, her throat flushing red. Now Kate wanted to comfort her, to hold her hand and tell

her that she was sorry for her loss.

‘He didn’t move. I called out, “Daddy, Daddy …” and he didn’t answer. I thought he might have been asleep at first. I went over to him and saw something black all over him. I touched him, and it was wet. When my eyes adjusted to the darkness I saw it was blood. I didn’t know what happened, I just held him and I couldn’t breathe, and then I screamed. I must have screamed because I heard myself. And then … then I heard her coming up the stairs. She killed him. She’s bad. There’s always been something wrong with her. I ran into the bathroom – closed the door and called 911.’

‘You say your sister is bad. There’s always been something wrong with her – what do you mean exactly?’ said Tyler.

‘Alexandra, that’s enough. Remember what we talked about,’ said Levy.

Kate glanced down at the page and saw that she hadn’t written down the last question. She did it now, in shorthand. She had been so enraptured by Alexandra. This was a woman in terrible pain. And anger. She saw it when Alexandra mentioned Sofia. There was a hardness in her – something made of iron and steel – and it flashed when she spoke her sister’s name. It flashed again at Levy when he tried to shut her up.

‘Maybe just answer this last question and leave it at that,’ said Kate.

Alexandra’s eyes softened when they flitted to Kate. Alexandra was a powerful young woman – not used to taking orders from men. She needed a different approach. Levy wasn’t happy that Kate had opened her mouth, she could tell by the withering look on his face.

‘I’ll just say this,’ said Alexandra. ‘Sofia thinks she’s smart. Smarter than me.

She’s wrong. We don’t talk – we haven’t in years. Not since Mom died. She hates me. She didn’t hate him, but she would do anything to hurt me. She’s sick.

Do you understand? She wants to win. She thinks it’s a competition between us.

You have to believe that I didn’t do this.’

‘Last question. Where were you before you got to your father’s house? And what time did you arrive?’

‘Oh God, I can’t remember the time. I was jogging in the park, and then I ran to Dad’s. I had to pick up some fruit smoothies for him from a place on 2nd Avenue. I don’t know what time I got back.’

Kate just got everything down on paper, and then looked up to see Soames and Tyler in hushed conversation.

‘Mr. Levy, we are going to charge your client with first-degree murder. She’ll be charged alongside her sister. Frank Avellino has forty-nine million dollars in property, cash and assets in his estate, according to his attorney. He made a will five years ago, dividing it equally between his two daughters. Before we charge your client, we have one final question. Miss Avellino, when did you discover your father had talked to his attorney about changing his will?’

PART TWO

THE GAME BEGINS

SIX

EDDIE

For a lawyer, every case is a game.

In criminal law, it begins with an arrest and it ends with a verdict. At the start of the game you have no control over what happens, then you develop a strategy

and you make some moves. At the end you get to stand in front of the jury, alone. The prosecutor doesn’t matter – you have to ignore them. It’s just you and twelve people. Once the final word is spoken it’s all over. The verdict shouldn’t matter. You did your job as counsel.

Except it does matter.

The verdict is everything. It doesn’t mean shit how well you played, it’s all down to that decision. The lawyers who make the big bucks, who drive a Mercedes home to their families in their nine-bedroom houses don’t care what the verdict will mean for the accused, for the victim’s family, for society and everyone in it. They can’t care.

My biggest problem as a lawyer is I want the guilty to get punished and the innocent to go free. And the law doesn’t work that way. Never has. Never will.

Sometimes I can tip the balance, one way or the other. Sometimes not. It matters that I try. The day I stop giving a shit is the day I quit. Sofia Avellino needed my help. It was too early to say if I believed her sister carried out the murder. Neither of the Avellino sisters looked like they could harm anyone, much less tear their own father to pieces. For now, I was involved in the case but I needed to be sure Sofia was telling the truth. In that cell, I had felt for her. I thought I had a connection. That she was open and honest with me. That was my

instinct. I needed to know that I could trust that first impression.