least I can do is provide it.”
“There’s no doubt that she can use someone’s support. Sure, I’ll arrange for you to visit anytime you wish, within prescribed hours, of course. Give me a call whenever you want to see her and I’ll set it up.”
“How about tomorrow?”
He seemed to hesitate. “I guess that would work. While we’re on the topic, Jessica, would you be available to meet with me after you’ve visited her?”
“I don’t see why not.”
“Good. There are a few things I’d like to discuss with you. Give me fifteen minutes to call the sheriff’s office to set it up, and I’ll get back to you.”
Cy’s request that we get together after I’d visited his client in prison gave me something else to ponder. He and I didn’t have any pending legal matters, so he likely wanted to discuss Myriam’s case. The question was why. Maybe it had to do with the subpoena I’d received. Was he aware that it had been issued and delivered? Did he want to discuss what I would say during the deposition?
My musings reminded me of a day I’d spent with a British judge during a trip to London. Despite the fact that the American system of jurisprudence is based upon the British system, there are major differences. This particular judge was appalled that American lawyers were allowed to prep witnesses prior to their testimony or depositions. A British lawyer would find him- or herself in serious trouble should he or she do that. I was similarly surprised that this same judge, and all others in the British system, routinely sum up evidence for the jurors as they interpret it prior to the jury going into its deliberations. Not wanting to offend him and possibly end our informative discussion by expressing my discomfort with this practice, I simply tucked the knowledge away for use in a future book. As they say, we speak the same language as our British cousins—or do we?
Cy was as good as his word. The phone rang fifteen minutes later.
“Done,” he said. “Sheriff Metzger is expecting you at ten.”
When I arrived at police headquarters the next morning, O’Connor was waiting for me.
“I didn’t expect to see you until later,” I said.
“I thought Myriam might be more comfortable if I tagged along. You don’t mind, do you?”
“Of course not.”
“We have a few minutes before they bring her to an interview room,” he said. “Let’s go outside and talk.”
We stood beneath an overhang in front of the building.
“First,” he said, “I want to thank you for taking an interest in Myriam and her case.”
“No thanks are necessary,” I said. “She’s suffering and asked for my help. I feel it’s the least I can do.”
“She’s mentioned you a number of times during our conversations and told me about the night she spoke with you and Ms. Wilkerson at the shelter.”
“That was a privileged conversation, but since Edwina and I both have been subpoenaed, I’m afraid the details of that night will be made public.”
“I’ll be present during your deposition,” he said. “Standard procedure.”
“Mind if I ask a question before we go in?” I said.
“Shoot.”
“Why did you take this case?”
He broke into a boyish grin. “I know why you’re asking. Criminal law isn’t my specialty. But I’m afraid that to answer that I’ll have to delve deeply into my psyche.”
“Digging into psyches is something I do with regularity in my books.”
“We don’t have time for a full-scale excavation at the moment,” he said, glancing at his watch again. “But if you’re free for dinner tonight . . . ?”
“As a matter of fact, I am.”
“I won’t keep you out late. I want you rested up for your deposition.”
“It’s not until Monday.”
“And I’ll be there to make sure the DA doesn’t go over the line.”
“Then we’ll all have to be on our toes. Let’s go see your client.”
Chapter Eleven
A haggard Myriam Wolcott was led into the room where Cy and I
“There’s no doubt that she can use someone’s support. Sure, I’ll arrange for you to visit anytime you wish, within prescribed hours, of course. Give me a call whenever you want to see her and I’ll set it up.”
“How about tomorrow?”
He seemed to hesitate. “I guess that would work. While we’re on the topic, Jessica, would you be available to meet with me after you’ve visited her?”
“I don’t see why not.”
“Good. There are a few things I’d like to discuss with you. Give me fifteen minutes to call the sheriff’s office to set it up, and I’ll get back to you.”
Cy’s request that we get together after I’d visited his client in prison gave me something else to ponder. He and I didn’t have any pending legal matters, so he likely wanted to discuss Myriam’s case. The question was why. Maybe it had to do with the subpoena I’d received. Was he aware that it had been issued and delivered? Did he want to discuss what I would say during the deposition?
My musings reminded me of a day I’d spent with a British judge during a trip to London. Despite the fact that the American system of jurisprudence is based upon the British system, there are major differences. This particular judge was appalled that American lawyers were allowed to prep witnesses prior to their testimony or depositions. A British lawyer would find him- or herself in serious trouble should he or she do that. I was similarly surprised that this same judge, and all others in the British system, routinely sum up evidence for the jurors as they interpret it prior to the jury going into its deliberations. Not wanting to offend him and possibly end our informative discussion by expressing my discomfort with this practice, I simply tucked the knowledge away for use in a future book. As they say, we speak the same language as our British cousins—or do we?
Cy was as good as his word. The phone rang fifteen minutes later.
“Done,” he said. “Sheriff Metzger is expecting you at ten.”
When I arrived at police headquarters the next morning, O’Connor was waiting for me.
“I didn’t expect to see you until later,” I said.
“I thought Myriam might be more comfortable if I tagged along. You don’t mind, do you?”
“Of course not.”
“We have a few minutes before they bring her to an interview room,” he said. “Let’s go outside and talk.”
We stood beneath an overhang in front of the building.
“First,” he said, “I want to thank you for taking an interest in Myriam and her case.”
“No thanks are necessary,” I said. “She’s suffering and asked for my help. I feel it’s the least I can do.”
“She’s mentioned you a number of times during our conversations and told me about the night she spoke with you and Ms. Wilkerson at the shelter.”
“That was a privileged conversation, but since Edwina and I both have been subpoenaed, I’m afraid the details of that night will be made public.”
“I’ll be present during your deposition,” he said. “Standard procedure.”
“Mind if I ask a question before we go in?” I said.
“Shoot.”
“Why did you take this case?”
He broke into a boyish grin. “I know why you’re asking. Criminal law isn’t my specialty. But I’m afraid that to answer that I’ll have to delve deeply into my psyche.”
“Digging into psyches is something I do with regularity in my books.”
“We don’t have time for a full-scale excavation at the moment,” he said, glancing at his watch again. “But if you’re free for dinner tonight . . . ?”
“As a matter of fact, I am.”
“I won’t keep you out late. I want you rested up for your deposition.”
“It’s not until Monday.”
“And I’ll be there to make sure the DA doesn’t go over the line.”
“Then we’ll all have to be on our toes. Let’s go see your client.”
Chapter Eleven
A haggard Myriam Wolcott was led into the room where Cy and I
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