The Jury Read Free Page B

Jordan would have been a major affirmative-action catch for any of these employers. He had to stay on his toes to keep her, and particularly to keep the grant money that seemed to come with her. He was constantly granting her perks, pay increases and promotions.
    Crone doesn't complain, but others in the lab have told us that Jordan's demands were frequent and increasingly unreasonable.
    The last witness of the day is Carol Hodges. She has begun to light a little fire around the edges of their case.
    Hodges came out of the blue, a surprise I suspect that Tannery could not wait to spring for fear that sooner or later we might discover the facts from our own client. He needn't have worried.
    "You knew the victim?" says Tannery "Yes."
    "How?"
    "We roomed together for a period."
    "And you remained at the university on faculty. Is that correct?"
    "A teaching assistant. Graduate fellow," she says.
    "Now I draw your attention to the evening of the twenty-third of March. Last year," he says.
    "Do you recall that date?"
    She nods.
    "You have to speak up for the record."
    "Yes."
    "Do you remember what you were doing about six o'clock that evening?"
    "Having dinner," she says.
    "In the faculty dining room at the university."
    "And did you have occasion to see the victim, Kalista Jordan, on that evening."
    , "Yes."
    "What was she doing?"
    "Having dinner."
    "Were you eating together?"
    "No. Separate tables."
    "And what happened that evening?"
    "There was an argument."
    "With who?"
    "With him." She points to our table.
    "You mean the defendant, David Crone?"
    "Yes."
    "Who was he arguing with?"
    "Kalista."
    "Kalista Jordan?"
    "Yes."
    "What was this argument about?"
    "I couldn't hear," she says.
    Harry and I are clearly shaken, though we try not to show it. Harry actually manages a yawn that he covers with the back of his hand as this revelation spills out in front of the jury.
    The state has managed to shield much of their testimony. There are few witness statements in their files, and most of the victim's friends have been told by the cops that they don't have to talk to us. Accordingly, they have chosen not to.
    "Was this a loud argument?"
    "Parts of it."
    "Who started it?"
    "He did."
    "Dr. Crone?"
    She nods. The witness is clearly not comfortable taking on a tenured professor, the academic pecking order being what it is, though Crone's credentials have long since been tarnished.
    "Did Dr. Crone shout at her?"
    "He did."
    "Did he threaten her?"
    "I'm not sure what you mean."
    "Did you hear him make any threatening statements toward the victim?"
    "As I said, I couldn't hear what they were saying."
    "But you did hear shouting?"
    She nods. A tangle of hair droops down across her forehead, and she whips it to the side with the back of her hand.
    "Yes."
    "Did he touch her?" asks Tannery. This is clearly the high point for this witness.
    "Yes. He put his hands on her."
    "How?"
    "He grabbed her by the arm when she tried to walk away."
    "She tried to get away from him?"
    "Yes."
    "At any point did the defendant, David Crone, look as if he might strike the victim?"
    "Objection."
    "Goes to the witness's perceptions," says Tannery.
    "Overruled. I allow the witness to answer."
    "Yes. At one point I thought he would hit her."
    "Did he strike the victim?" Tannery is not going to leave that one for me to ask.
    "No."
    "When Dr. Crone grabbed her, did the victim appear to be frightened?"
    "Objection."
    "Overruled," says the judge.
    "She wasn't happy," says the witness.
    "Did she appear to be scared?"
    "I would have been," says Hodges.
    "Objection--move to strike."
    Before the judge can rule, Hodges says: "I believe she was frightened."
    The judge strikes her earlier response, but the last one works for Tannery. He has done his damage.
    Within three minutes we are beyond the earshot of guards, safely ensconced in the small conference room near the holding cells, with the door closed.
    "Why the hell didn't you tell us?" Harry is bearing down, red out to the