don’t think it. I know it. I know my son and I know when he’s lying.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Did you know that Billy likes to drink, Mr. Hamlin?”
“No,” Jeff admitted. “I mean, you know, I assumed he had the occasional beer.”
“Did you know he smokes marijuana?”
“No.”
“Or that he’s used hard drugs? Cocaine. Amphetamines.”
“No, I didn’t. But—”
“All those things were found in Billy’s system the day Nicholas Handemeyer died.”
“Yes. And why were they found?” Exasperated, Jeff Hamlin threw his arms wide. “Because Billy told the police to look for ’em. He suggested a blood test, for God’s sake. Why would he do that if he weren’t trying to make himself look guilty?”
Leslie Lose cleared his throat. “I’m not suggesting Billy’s guilty. This entire trial is a grudge match dreamed up by Senator Handemeyer, and the whole world knows it.”
“I hope so.”
“All I’m saying, Mr. Hamlin, is that once they’re past the age of thirteen, none of us know our children as well as we think we do. The worst thing Billy could do right now would be to start pointing the finger at others, trying to shift the blame. He’s admitted using drugs, he’s admitted making a mistake. That doesn’t make him a murderer.”
Jeff Hamlin sat down wearily. “Billy’s a good kid.”
“I know he is.” Leslie Lose smiled reassuringly. “And that’s what’s going to win us this case. That and the prosecution’s total lack of hard evidence. The newspapers have demonized Billy. When the jury sees what he’s really like, how different he is from the monster they’ve been expecting, they’ll acquit for sure.”
“But what about the damage to Billy’s reputation? Who’s going to pay for that?”
“One step at a time, Mr. Hamlin,” Leslie Lose said gently. “Let’s get your son home first. Once the criminal charges are dealt with, we can think about next steps.”
Jeff Hamlin took comfort in the lawyer’s certainty. Jeff might know his way around a lathe and a workbench, but he knew nothing about how to win over a jury, or what did or didn’t constitute murder. Despite his name, Lose had a decent track record of winning cases a lot less cut-and-dried than Billy’s.
A prison officer appeared at the door. “Time to go.”
Billy smiled. He looked so happy and confident, even Jeff Hamlin relaxed a little.
“Good luck, son.”
“Thanks, Dad. I won’t need it.”
IT WAS A SHORT DRIVE FROM the jail to the courthouse. Billy Hamlin gazed out of the rear window of the prison van.
He was excited, and not just because he was about to go free.
In an hour, I’ll see Toni again. She’ll be so happy to see me. So grateful. When it’s all over I’ll ask her to marry me.
He wondered if she would look different. If she’d cut her hair since the summer, maybe, or lost any weight. Not that she needed to. Toni Gilletti was perfect as she was.
She’d written him one short note while he was in prison awaiting trial. Billy had hoped for more letters, but Toni had kind of hinted that her folks were all over her and it was hard to make contact. She was especially nervous about putting anything in writing. Billy could understand that.
It doesn’t matter anyway. Soon this nightmare will be over and we can start our lives together.
Although he was shocked when murder charges were brought against him, Billy didn’t regret what he’d done. There was no danger of him actually going to jail, whereas if Toni had been on trial, with her prior record, anything could have happened. He knew he’d had some bad press—he hadn’t seen a TV in months but one of the prison guards had showed him the Newsweek piece—but unlike his father, Billy wasn’t overly concerned about his reputation.
Once the trial’s over, people will forget. Besides, once they see what I’m really like, they’ll realize I’m not the monster they thought I was.
He had youth on his side, and innocence, and the love of a truly extraordinary woman. One day he and Toni would look back on this time and roll their eyes at the madness of it all.
The prison van rattled on.
BILLY HAMLIN’S TRIAL WAS TO TAKE place at the York County Courthouse in downtown Alfred. Superior-court judge Devon Williams would be presiding in Court Two, an elegant room at the front of the colonial-style building, with old-fashioned casement windows, wooden benches, and an original 1890s parquet floor, polished daily to an ice-rink-like sheen. The York County Courthouse represented all that was good and decent and traditional and ordered about this most conservative of states. Yet within its walls, all facets of human misery had come crawling. Grief. Corruption. Violence. Hatred. Despair. Behind the pleasant, white-pillared facade of the York County Courthouse, lives had been restored and destroyed, hopes fulfilled and crushed. Justice had been served. And in some cases, denied.
Toni Gilletti arrived at the courthouse flanked by her parents. A large crowd of spectators and reporters had gathered outside the court.
“Look at all those people,” Toni whispered nervously to her mother. “Every hotel in Alfred must be full.”
Sandra Gilletti smoothed down her fitted Dior skirt and smiled for photographers as the family entered the building. She was so glad she’d decided to go couture after all. Walter had worried it might be too much, but with the NBC news cameras trained directly on her, Sandra would simply have died if she’d worn something frumpy from a local department store.
“Well, the case has generated a lot of interest,” she whispered back to Toni.
The way dog shit interests flies, Toni thought bitterly.
Her anger masked her fear. The prosecution had called her as a witness. She’d received the notice only a few days ago, much to her father’s annoyance.
“Can’t you get her out of it?” Walter Gilletti asked Lawrence McGee, the expensive Manhattan attorney he’d hired to advise them. “It’s such short notice. She’s had no time to prepare.”
Lawrence McGee explained that Toni wasn’t supposed to prepare. “All she has to do is stand up there and tell the truth. No one’s contesting her evidence. Toni’s police statement and Hamlin’s tally exactly.”
But of course, Lawrence McGee didn’t know the truth. Nor did the police, or Toni’s parents, or anyone except Toni herself and Billy. What if Billy changed his story under oath? What if his lawyer cross-examined her on the stand and bullied the truth out of her? Did Billy even know that the prosecution had called her as a witness? Would he hate her for testifying against him, for going along with
