The Staked Goat - Jeremiah Healy Read Free Page B

to suppress his statements to you under any number
of theories. With his record, Joey doesn't dare testify at trial
because we'd nail him to the cross with his prior convictions."
    "'Maybe they figure the deal from your side
might be better if they push you to the verge of trial?"
    "Maybe, but we're not going to be very generous
on this one."
    I became aware of people shuffling their feet a
little distance away from us, and I turned to look at them. The
Coopers. In their Sunday best and scared.
    I whipped my head back to Nancy. "Did you call
them?"
1
She
turned the way I had. "No, who are . . . oh, the Coopers, huh?"
.
    I nodded.
    "Must have been D'Amico's lawyer, though what
help they'll be . . ."
    “ I'm going to calm them down. See you inside."
    "You've got some time. You're witness number
three, right after Weeks."
    I went up to the Coopers and took Emily's
out-stretched hand. She mustered a smile.
    "Why are you here?"
    Jesse produced a paper from his inside jacket pocket
and unfolded it carefully. "We got this. Last night. It was
late, so we didn't want to call you."
    It was a subpoena. The signature of the issuing
notary public was illegible, but it looked to be in proper form.
    "A surly man in a porkpie hat brought it,"
said Emily. "Along with this." She held open an envelope
with some currency in it.
    "That's your witness fee, Emily," I said.
"You can keep that."
    Jesse's hands shook as he refolded the subpoena.
"What do they want us for?"
    "I don't know," I said as the court
officer, uniformed and side-armed, boomed, "Trial session, trial
session, court coming in."
    I guided the Coopers into the courtroom. We sat on
the left-hand side of the middle aisle, halfway back. On our side of
the courtroom was the prosecutor's table, near the as-yet empty jury
box. Nancy and a tall, fiftyish man with red-gray hair were
conferring. The D'Amico family sat on the right-hand side of the
aisle, several rows in front of us but still behind the defense
table, at which Smolina sat scribbling on a legal pad. Friend of the
Bride, Friend of the Groom.
    A clerk of court was shuffling papers in front of the
bench, and a stenographer was assembling her miniature transcriber to
his right. A side door opened, and two court officers brought in a
cuffed Joey D'Amico. He wore a dark blue suit, white shirt, and dark
tie. He'd had a haircut but looked pale as a ghost after his six
months in jail.
    The officers led him to the defense table, unshackled
him, and took up positions to his right and behind. At least his
lawyer had had sense enough to move that his client not be seated in
the dock. The dock is a square, isolated, and elevated box which some
say gives jurors a pejorative impression of the dangerousness of the
defendant whose fate they decide.
    The judge was announced and entered from a different
side door. I did not recognize him, but he was about sixty,
white-haired, and judgelike. D'Amico's case was called by the clerk.
Nancy, her compatriot (who did not introduce himself), and Smolina
approached the bench and exchanged preliminaries. The judge asked for
witness lists. Nancy handed the prosecution's to the clerk. Smolina,
looking perplexed, excused himself and scurried back to his table. He
began flipping nervously through his file. Joey looked back at Marco,
whose head was down and shaking left to right. Smolina closed his
file, apologized to the judge, and said that his only witnesses would
be several members of the D'Amico family and "Jessy” and
"Emma" Cooper. The judge lectured Smolina on the need for
full names and addresses now so they could be read to the jury during
selection. Smolina said of course, of course but . . .
    At which point Marco stood up and said, "Judge,
if it'll help, I can give you everybody's name and address."
    The judge was off—balance for a moment, then said,
"Who are you?"
    "I'm Marco D'Amico, the defendant's brother, and
I live at 767 Hanover Street, North End." Marco went on to list
his other family