Page 89 of Fifty-Fifty

I glanced at Harry, he returned the look.

It was working.

‘Your Honor!’ cried Dreyer. ‘These are matters for another time, perhaps?

There are more pressing issues than Mr. Flynn’s disregard for this court. We wouldn’t want to give him ammunition to make an unfounded claim of bias against you.’

Shit.

Harry sighed.

It had almost worked.

We had planned to make Stone explode. He had a weak pressure valve. All racists and bigots do. One word against Harry or me and we were going to make

an immediate motion for Stone to recuse himself from the trial on the grounds of bias. He would’ve denied the motion, we would have had a chance for an immediate appeal, which would have been successful. No appellate judge would

take the risk of sending a defendant for trial before a potentially biased judge, because if they were convicted they would be straight back to a higher appellate court, complaining not only about the initial judge but the appellate judge who let the trial go ahead. If the motion for a new trial judge had been granted, any other judge but Stone would split the trials, giving Sofia a fair chance.

Dreyer had spotted our play and took out the quarterback before he could release the ball. Goddamn, but Dreyer was quick-witted. I made sure I would not underestimate him again.

Judge’s Stone’s eyes narrowed in realization. He worked out that Dreyer was warning him. It took a while, but Stone got there. He sat down, said, ‘If there are any further outbursts or episodes of insubordination I shall refer this to the superior judge and he can deal with you two after the trial. Is that clear?’

Harry and I both nodded.

I whispered to Sofia that our attempt at removing this judge and splitting the trial hadn’t worked out. It had always been a long shot, and she appreciated this.

We would just do our best. She knew the risks and we figured it was worth it, considering the major risk to Sofia was in a joint trial.

At least now Stone was aware of the danger of a bias claim; he would be seen to be fair to the defense in order to distance himself from any such allegation.

We wouldn’t get an easy ride, but Stone would be careful not to prejudice our client in any of his statements and perhaps give me some extra leeway with my

cross-examination. Nothing had been lost with the play. Stone was never an ally.

If Judge Stone was in your corner, then you probably needed to take a long hard look at yourself.

‘Jury keeper, let’s have the jury in court. It’s time to get this trial started,’ said the judge.

A door opened to our right, and the jury was led in. I was reasonably happy with the jury when we finished selection last week. They looked to be a fair split of people who were as impartial as I could have wanted. Men and women. Some

were religious, some weren’t. They had a broad spread of backgrounds, careers,

and ethnicities. I didn’t care about anyone’s background. They were all Americans. They were ordinary people who were now under a tremendous

burden. They alone would decide this case. I just had to make sure they made the right decision.

Dreyer stood and introduced himself. He had dressed more demurely than usual. He looked formal and plain. Gray suit, white shirt and dark tie. An instrument of the state.

‘Members of the jury,’ he began. ‘I thank you for your service to this court. At the end of this case I will ask the judge to excuse all of you from ever having to serve on a jury for the rest of your lives. Have no doubt, this case will change you. You will see images in this courtroom that will haunt your dreams. You will never be the same. Because for the next few days you will be in the presence of evil. Before you are two women. Sisters. Take a look at them, please.’

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of Harry leaning forward to watch the jurors. I tried to focus on their faces too. I wanted to know if any eyes lingered on either of the defendants. So far, most of their attention tended to focus on Sofia. Her sister, dressed in a black business suit that complimented her tan, and with her blonde hair tied back, appeared the confident, professional woman. Before this day had come, I had meant to ask Harper to take Sofia shopping for a trial outfit – I knew she wouldn’t really bother otherwise. She was not confident about her appearance and I could tell she was conscious of the network of scars on her forearms. With Harper gone, I’d forgotten to speak to Sofia about her outfit for court. That’s what happens when you don’t flip the switch. Sofia wore black pants, and a long-sleeved black sweater. Her dark hair contrasted her pale skin. Alexandra looked as though she’d just come off a private jet after a fruitful Paris business meeting. Sofia looked like she’d just come from an AA meeting.

‘The prosecution will show you evidence that ties both women to the brutal murder of their own father – a great patron and public servant of this city – former mayor of New York City, Frank Avellino. Now, take a real good look at

these women. They murdered Frank Avellino, their own father, in cold blood.’

Dreyer let that hang there, and the jury took their time to make their evaluations of the defendants. Judging by the looks on the jurors’ faces, they didn’t seem too impressed – least of all with Sofia.