might move.
One morning, toward the end of the third week of the trial, as he watched through the slats of the blinds, Zach saw Emily pour her first cup of coffee and get up suddenly.
"Bess," he heard her say, "no time to waste. This is the big day. Gregg Aldrich is going on the stand and I'll get to crossexamine him. I'm going to make mince-meat of him."
Then as she passed the refrigerator on her way to the stairs, her steps slowing, she added: "Bess, it's absolutely crazy but in a way I feel sorry for him. I must be losing it."
22
Richard Moore had been confident that on the day he put Gregg Aldrich on the witness stand, Emily would get to her office early. That was why he was waiting for her at seven a.m. when she arrived at the courthouse. It was Friday, October 3rd.
The minute Emily saw him, she knew the reason he was there. She invited him into her office and offered to get him some coffee. "If you get a cup when it's just made, it's not that bad," she assured him. "But if you're craving Starbucks or Dunkin' Donuts, take a pass on it.
Moore smiled. "With an endorsement like that, I don't know how I can resist, but no thanks, Emily." The smile was gone as quickly as it came. "Emily, what I say now stays in these four walls, okay?"
"Okay, I think. It depends on what you say to me."
"My client absolutely insists that he is innocent. He doesn't know I'm talking to you now and would undoubtedly be furious if he found out about it. But here's the question: Is an aggravated man-slaughter plea with a twenty-year sentence still on the table?"
The image of Gregg Aldrich, pale and shaken, rushed into Emi-ly's mind but she shook her head. "No, Richard," she said emphatically. "At this point, for any number of reasons, it's not. For openers, if Aldrich had taken the plea when it was offered months ago, I wouldn't have had to put Natalie's mother under all the stress and heartbreak of testifying." Moore nodded slowly, as if he'd expected this response.
Realizing how angry she sounded, Emily said, "Let me grab my own coffee. The pot is down the hall. Back in a second."
When she returned, she made sure to keep the emotion out of her voice. "Richard, you know the amount of preparation it takes to get ready for a trial. I've been working around the clock for months and now I have a lot of other cases piled up and waiting for some attention from me. At this point, I want the case to be decided by the jury."
Richard Moore stood up. "All right. I understand. And I repeat, Gregg Aldrich did not authorize this visit. He swears he is innocent and wants the jury to acquit him. Acquit?
Actually, he wants to be exonerated."
Exonerated! He must be crazy, Emily thought. He'd better hope that at least one juror believes him and he gets a hung jury. At least that would buy him a few more months of freedom before a second trial. Without a hint of sarcasm in her voice, she said, "I sincerely doubt that Gregg Aldrich will be exonerated by this jury or any other."
"You may be right about that," Moore replied, glumly. At the door, he turned back. "I admit that Easton was better on the stand than I expected, Emily. And I don't mind telling you that you've done a good job."
Richard Moore was not known to give compliments. Sincerely pleased, Emily thanked him.
"And, Emily, one way or the other, I'm glad this will be over soon. It's really been a tough one."
He did not wait for her reply.
23
On the morning of October 3rd, Gregg Aldrich got out of bed at five a.m. Because he was going to be on the witness stand, he had gone to bed unreasonably early and it had been a mistake. He had slept for an hour until eleven p.m., then dozed fitfully for the next six hours.
I've got to clear my head, he thought. I'll take a run in the park. I can't testify feeling this groggy and stupid. He raised the shades and closed the window. The window looked across the street to the opposite building. Park Avenue never does give much of a view, he thought. On
One morning, toward the end of the third week of the trial, as he watched through the slats of the blinds, Zach saw Emily pour her first cup of coffee and get up suddenly.
"Bess," he heard her say, "no time to waste. This is the big day. Gregg Aldrich is going on the stand and I'll get to crossexamine him. I'm going to make mince-meat of him."
Then as she passed the refrigerator on her way to the stairs, her steps slowing, she added: "Bess, it's absolutely crazy but in a way I feel sorry for him. I must be losing it."
22
Richard Moore had been confident that on the day he put Gregg Aldrich on the witness stand, Emily would get to her office early. That was why he was waiting for her at seven a.m. when she arrived at the courthouse. It was Friday, October 3rd.
The minute Emily saw him, she knew the reason he was there. She invited him into her office and offered to get him some coffee. "If you get a cup when it's just made, it's not that bad," she assured him. "But if you're craving Starbucks or Dunkin' Donuts, take a pass on it.
Moore smiled. "With an endorsement like that, I don't know how I can resist, but no thanks, Emily." The smile was gone as quickly as it came. "Emily, what I say now stays in these four walls, okay?"
"Okay, I think. It depends on what you say to me."
"My client absolutely insists that he is innocent. He doesn't know I'm talking to you now and would undoubtedly be furious if he found out about it. But here's the question: Is an aggravated man-slaughter plea with a twenty-year sentence still on the table?"
The image of Gregg Aldrich, pale and shaken, rushed into Emi-ly's mind but she shook her head. "No, Richard," she said emphatically. "At this point, for any number of reasons, it's not. For openers, if Aldrich had taken the plea when it was offered months ago, I wouldn't have had to put Natalie's mother under all the stress and heartbreak of testifying." Moore nodded slowly, as if he'd expected this response.
Realizing how angry she sounded, Emily said, "Let me grab my own coffee. The pot is down the hall. Back in a second."
When she returned, she made sure to keep the emotion out of her voice. "Richard, you know the amount of preparation it takes to get ready for a trial. I've been working around the clock for months and now I have a lot of other cases piled up and waiting for some attention from me. At this point, I want the case to be decided by the jury."
Richard Moore stood up. "All right. I understand. And I repeat, Gregg Aldrich did not authorize this visit. He swears he is innocent and wants the jury to acquit him. Acquit?
Actually, he wants to be exonerated."
Exonerated! He must be crazy, Emily thought. He'd better hope that at least one juror believes him and he gets a hung jury. At least that would buy him a few more months of freedom before a second trial. Without a hint of sarcasm in her voice, she said, "I sincerely doubt that Gregg Aldrich will be exonerated by this jury or any other."
"You may be right about that," Moore replied, glumly. At the door, he turned back. "I admit that Easton was better on the stand than I expected, Emily. And I don't mind telling you that you've done a good job."
Richard Moore was not known to give compliments. Sincerely pleased, Emily thanked him.
"And, Emily, one way or the other, I'm glad this will be over soon. It's really been a tough one."
He did not wait for her reply.
23
On the morning of October 3rd, Gregg Aldrich got out of bed at five a.m. Because he was going to be on the witness stand, he had gone to bed unreasonably early and it had been a mistake. He had slept for an hour until eleven p.m., then dozed fitfully for the next six hours.
I've got to clear my head, he thought. I'll take a run in the park. I can't testify feeling this groggy and stupid. He raised the shades and closed the window. The window looked across the street to the opposite building. Park Avenue never does give much of a view, he thought. On
Similar Books
