Page 79 of The Devil's Advocate

‘You know what I mean,’ she said.

‘It’s okay. I don’t imagine you would get many people from Buckstown going this far for barbeque when there’s a smokehouse on every street corner.’

She nodded, said, ‘Still, it’s probably a good idea to keep this short. This place is out of the way, but it’s not like it’s private either.’

‘This won’t take long. I thought we should talk,’ I said.

‘What about?’ she asked.

‘Couple of things that are bothering me. First, when you were asked by the prosecutor if you knew any of the parties in the case you said “no” and I want to know why.’

‘It’s real simple. I don’t know any of them. I don’t know you. I sold you a car, in like five minutes. That’s it. It’s not like we hang out. No offense,’ she said.

‘None taken. But you do know me, no matter how brief our meeting. Why did you lie to the judge?’

‘Was it a lie? It just didn’t seem important. It’s not like now, where I’m a juror and you’re a lawyer in the case. That means we should not be meeting or talking,’ she said.

There was a question hanging between us, like the light that hung from the ceiling shining a halo in the center of the table. I let that question sway in the wind for a time while I leaned back in my seat and decided if I wanted to ask it.

She was smart enough to know the question. She had invited it. I could tell the question was swinging toward her. She could ask it just the same as me. And right then it seemed she would. I could see it there, skirting the smile at the corner of her red lips.

I decided it would be more polite if I took the initiative.

‘Sandy, do you want to make some money?’

Her lips pursed, her eyes clicked toward me, locked on, like the reels on a slot machine.

‘I am in a unique position to alter the outcome of this trial,’ she said.

‘In Alabama, a conviction and death penalty can be imposed with a majority verdict of ten jurors. One not-guilty vote isn’t enough.’

‘One is a start,’ she said.

‘Sure is. How much would something like that cost?’

She thought for a moment. She didn’t want to price it too high, nor did she want to sell herself too low. This was a crime. A felony. It would carry serious prison time if she were found out and convicted. That risk necessitated a rich reward.

‘Twenty thousand dollars,’ she said.

‘Oh, I think we can do better than that. Tell me, do you like Disney characters?’

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

BLOCH

Bloch pulled up across the street from the Sheriff’s Department. A line of cruisers outside, polished and idle in the streetlight.

Before she made a move, she thought things over.

Her next step had a number of possible outcomes. Confronting the sheriff with evidence of obstruction of justice, perjury and more could go a few different ways – most of them south. A man this deep in the well will climb over a pile of dead bodies for a glimpse of the sun. The other possibility was he put his hands up, played it smart, and agreed to testify as a witness against Korn. That was her hope. That there was some smoking ember of goodness left in him that she could fan into a flame to burn Korn’s house down. It was best if she did this alone. Bloch had been a cop once, and she knew how to talk to police.

She got out of the car, crossed the street to see two patrolmen leave the building and make their way to one of the cruisers. She didn’t recognize them. Night shift. There was something about them that appeared different, but at first she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

Then she saw it. Both patrolmen wore black armbands on their right biceps.

As she passed them on her way to the station she said, ‘Evening, why the black armbands?’

One of the patrolmen said, ‘It’s a mark of respect. The sheriff’s wife has been sick for a long time. Cancer. She died last night.’