Jack Daniels and Associates: Snake Wine Read Free Page A

do you say?"
    "Email me the reports and a signed agreement," Frank said. "I'll talk to my wife. Listen, do not send me the criminal complaint or any police reports that don’t pertain to the possession charges. I don't want my testimony to be tainted by any outside influences, understand?"
    Davidson looked at the last page of the criminal complaint and the charges listed there, and the victim most especially, and said, "Certainly. That sounds good."
    Davidson hung up the phone and leaned back in his chair, smiling with satisfaction, thinking, "There goes another one in the boat."
     
    The rules of sequestration work so that witnesses are not allowed to hear one another testify before giving their own testimony. After they are dismissed from the stand, they are allowed to watch the proceedings just like anyone else. As the prosecution called witness after witness, Davidson subjected them to the most vigorous cross-examination he could get away with, doing whatever he could to challenge, call into question, and discredit the witness, as often as he could.
    As each witness stepped down from the stand, each one openly glared at Keenan Marvin. Cop after cop, hell, even the forensic specialists, eye-screwed Marvin as they walked past to take up their seats behind him until there was nowhere to sit. Then they stood.
    Only two people involved in the case weren't sitting in the audience. Detective First Class Herb Benedict, who had testified first, was then returned to sequestration in the event he had to be called back to the stand to refute any testimony.
    The only person associated with the case who was allowed to stay the entire time was the cop who'd done the investigation. Lieutenant Jacqueline Daniels was sitting in the front of the courtroom at the prosecutor's table, just a few feet from the man she was trying to put in prison for life. It was her name signed on the criminal complaint against Keenan Marvin. It was her accusing him of double-murder and being the leader of a corrupt criminal organization that specialized in trafficking narcotics.
    Joel Roth was the fourth highest ranking prosecutor in Cook County, and that wasn't saying much. Most prosecutors come into the office, do a few years, just enough to get a few good trials under their belt, and then move on to cushy law firms to cash in. Given the pittance the prosecutor's office paid and the crushing debt of law school, it really wasn't a choice. The only people who stayed in the office were those lucky enough to not need the money. Normally, they were people who came from successful families that now wanted to enter the vast world of American politics.
    At thirty-one years old, Joel Roth already oversaw all the specialized subdivisions in the office, and he rarely bothered to get his hands dirty in a courtroom anymore. Not unless it was a special occasion. Keenan Marvin was a special occasion. Guaranteed to get major press coverage, this case had a good chance of moving Roth up the list for any cushy government appointments that might become available.
    Roth's eyes were on the security details and around the clock limousine services that awaited. He was thinking about the governor's mansion in the future, and Jack knew it. The problem with administrators who only get involved in big cases is that they are rusty, she thought. And they aren't familiar with the regular players.
    Jack didn't know Roth and Roth didn't know her. She wished one of the regular people from the narcotics division was sitting at the table with her instead or Roth.
    They watched the last witness come down off the stand and instead of resting his case, Roth stood up and said, "I'd like to re-call Lieutenant Daniels to the stand, your honor."
    There were murmurs in the court and Jack looked up at him to ask him what was going on, but Roth folded his arms and stared straight forward, refusing to look at her. She walked around the table and took her place at the witnesses stand, instinctively