Defense for the Devil (44 page)

“Ladies and gentlemen,” she said, putting down the transcript, still speaking very slowly and carefully, “if you find that a witness has spoken falsely, has distorted the facts, or has not recalled accurately what has been offered as truthful testimony, you are entitled to disregard all of that person’s testimony. To do otherwise would be unjust, since you have no way of knowing where factual testimony starts and stops.”

She was being cautious because she knew the jury had been sympathetic to Marta Delancey and might not take kindly to her calling the woman a liar. She continued. “I don’t know what Mrs. Delancey saw on the bridge that day. I don’t know the state of her mind at that moment, concerned as she was about her mother’s health. I don’t know the state of her mind when she returned and read the account of the murder in the newspaper and saw Ray Arno’s picture.

“I do know that she could not have recalled him from the time she said he so impressed her in his sports shop. And if part of her testimony is demonstrably wrong, the rest of it is suspect also.”

She moved to the calendar then, and pointed. “Now, this is when we first hear of Mitchell Arno in the recent past, talking to Mr. Trassi in the Palmer Company anteroom on July nineteenth. Present were Mr. Ulrich and Mr. Stael. So on that day, these four people and a stenographer all knew that Mitch Arno would be carrying a large amount of money to Oregon.”

Using the calendar, she outlined the following days and weeks and tracked down the known movements of Trassi, Stael and Ulrich, the Lexus, and Mitch. “We don’t know where Mitchell Arno was or what he was doing in the period from the twenty-sixth of July until August second, when he was found on the coast….”

She moved away from the calendar and said, “Let’s pause here and ask a few of the questions that all this raises. First, of course, what were Stael and Ulrich doing in Eugene? Why was Mitchell Arno taken to the cabin? If Ray had killed him, there was no need to go there. He knew he would be alone in his house for a week. He has five acres of ground, plenty of places where a body could be buried, with no questions asked. But if others had been looking for and then found Mitch Arno, they had no way of knowing when they would be interrupted. They needed a secluded place.

“Why was Mitchell Arno’s face untouched? In the fight between the brothers, they had both been bloodied, faces and hands. But Mitchell’s face was spared this time. I suggest that it was to make certain he could talk. A broken jaw would interfere with talking.

“Then, the actual physical act of moving him must be considered. Could one man have dragged him through broken glass in such a way that only his heels scraped the floor? Then he was dragged again, after he was dead, and this time he was dragged facedown with only his toes and the tops of his feet scraping the floor. Could one man, acting alone, have accomplished that? I suggest that you try acting it out when you start your deliberations, to see just how impossible that would be.

“Next, consider the weapon. This was not a crime of uncontrollable passion; this was premeditated, the isolated cabin was selected in advance, the weapon was assembled in advance with care. It was a weapon designed to inflict a great deal of damage; the parts had to be purchased, and this was done by someone who knew exactly what he was doing. You heard the testimony about the pigskin fibers, and the opinion that a leather holder, a hand grip, had been used on the pipe. In other words, this was a professional weapon assembled by a professional in his own field.

“Why two pairs of gloves if there was only one killer?

“Why burn the hands of a dead man? Consider, he had no identifying clothes; he was wearing his brother’s clothes. He had no papers, nothing to identify him, except his fingerprints, and they were burned off.

“Now, as to the time of the attack and the murder. We know that Mr. Stael and Mr. Ulrich arrived in Eugene on the third of August, Saturday. When could they have left their fingerprints in Ray Arno’s house on surfaces that had been washed, painted, waxed in July? Not before Saturday night, certainly. But isn’t it likely that on Sunday, after preparing the setting for the crime to come, they then went looking for Mitchell Arno, and they found him Sunday evening, two hours after his last meal, in his brother’s house?

“What did they want from him? He had already turned the child-support money over to Mr. Trassi; that was the arrangement from the start. When he was found, he had only the clothes on his back, and the Lexus was missing, presumably stolen by joyriders. Is that all he could tell them? Did they accept it?

“We know that on Monday Maggie Folsum’s bed-and-breakfast inn was ransacked, ruthlessly searched. If they had found what they were looking for, would they not have left the area instantly? Why did they remain in the motel, risking discovery of a stolen car and stolen credit cards? I suggest they did not find what they were after, and that the only other place to search for it, whatever it was, was in the Lexus itself. But the Lexus was behind a security fence in Corvallis and could not be entered, could not be driven away.”

She returned to the calendar and pointed to August eighth. “On Thursday Mr. Trassi was informed that Ms. Folsum demanded a meeting with Mitchell Arno, that she could not accept the past-due child support without adequate proof that it was legitimate. And on the following night, as the result of an anonymous phone call, Mitchell Arne’s body was found. There were no tooth or claw marks, no animals tracks, nothing to indicate that an animal had dug up and raised one foot from the grave. And on that night, in the blood that had dried and hardened, the name Arno was scratched with a tool that dug into the floor under the blood. Why?”

She walked back and forth before the jury as she spoke now; they were rapt in attention. “I suggest, ladies and gentlemen, that Ms. Folsum’s demand to see her former husband in person made it imperative that his body now should be found. No one had paid much attention to the Lexus; it was simply a business deal that had gone bad. But an investigation into the whereabouts of Mitchell Arno might bring about an impoundment of the car, might bring about a real search of it. So, in spite of the care that had been taken earlier to make identification of the body difficult or even impossible, it now became necessary to have it discovered and identified. And the Lexus remained in the background, considered irrelevant, a minor crime that the Palmer Company and their insurance company would handle. No one had inspected the interior with care, and no one did now. The investigation of murder was focused solely on Ray Arno; the Lexus was ignored.

“Then, Mr. Trassi agreed to provide the necessary documentation to substantiate the legality of the transfer of money, but still he did not leave the area immediately. And, in fact, he didn’t leave until the day after the Lexus was actually released.”

She pointed again to the calendar. “On the fourteenth, Mr. Stael and Mr. Ulrich left the motel; Mr. Ulrich took possession of the Lexus, and the following day Mr. Trassi checked out of his hotel. And all three men and the Lexus vanished from the area.”

She shook her head and said slowly, “But there are a few questions to be answered about those last two days they were still here. Who told Mr. Ulrich that the Lexus was ready? How did he get possession of the title transfer and letter of authorization? And most important of all, how did he get a key?”

She stopped moving and said quietly, “The last person who had the key was Mitchell Arno. I suggest that the person who killed him took that key.” She began to pace again, moving very slowly back and forth before the jurors, holding their attention.

“What happens when you buy a car? The dealer has two keys and gives them to the new owner. He doesn’t keep one for himself. So, no doubt, Mitchell Arno started out with two keys. If joyriders, as the state suggests, stole the car, they had one of the keys, but Mitchell Arno still had the other one, and then Mr. Ulrich had it.”

She turned to regard Ray then. “You’ve observed Ray Arno day after day in this court; you’ve observed his family. You saw and heard his friends and colleagues, the teachers and church members; you’ve heard about the kind of life he and his wife lead, the good work they do, their involvement with their community. Everything you’ve heard and seen about him reinforces the simple truth that he is a good man who is not a killer….”

She spent the rest of her time talking about Ray and his family, and finished by saying, “He was caught up in a series of events that had nothing to do with him. He was carrying out his father’s request, to provide a haven for his brother for a weekend until they could gather and discuss the situation, and he knew nothing of the other players who were in the field with their own sinister agenda. Ray Arno was a truly innocent bystander in the deadly drama.”

Judge Waldman was as good with her instructions as Frank had predicted she would be, and then they were all sent away for the lunch recess, to return at two-thirty, at which time the case would go to the jury.

Barbara and Frank had talked about the problem of lunch for the whole Arno crew, and agreed that a restaurant was out of the question. There were fourteen people to feed in an hour, an impossible task for any restaurant. They ended up going to Frank’s house, where Patsy had arranged with a caterer to provide sandwiches and salad for an army. And the Arnos talked, reassuring one another that it had gone well, reassuring Barbara that she was the best lawyer they had ever seen, reassuring Patsy that the sandwiches and salad were fine. But they were all nervous, and Lorinne burst into tears when Mama Arno said she should eat something.

Barbara felt as if she had to scream, go somewhere alone and scream. She kept thinking of the hurried explanations, the scanty summation…. “I didn’t even mention reasonable doubt,” she said to Frank.

“Not your job, and Jane told them all they need to know about it. Relax, honey. You did a great job. I didn’t believe you could wrap it all up in such a short time, but, by God, you did. Relax.”

Then it was time to return to court, time for the real waiting to begin. Judge Waldman gave the jury their final instructions and sent them out, then she said to Barbara, “If the Arno family would like to wait in the lounge down the hall, they are welcome. I believe we can have coffee brought in.”

“She thinks it’s going to be fast,” Frank said as the judge left the bench. “And I think she’s right. That jury wants to go home. The lounge?”

Barbara nodded. Ray was escorted out to a holding room, and the rest of his family made their way to the lounge, where they began to talk again. There had been more spectators that afternoon than earlier, but they were all barred from the lounge. Roxbury had vanished.

“Barbara,” Maggie said hesitantly, “it did go well, didn’t it? Mama and Papa are so up about it. They’re convinced that Ray will go home with them today. They’re planning a big party for tonight.”

Barbara patted her arm. “I think it went well,” she said, and wished she felt the same confidence. If only she had not left out so much. She should have protested the time limit, she thought then. Would it be grounds for an appeal? She wanted to ask Frank, but not now, not with the whole family present, watching. How could they do that? Watch everything, hear everything, and keep talking, too?

She heard snatches: “… one of those range turkeys, a bronze something or other. Best you ever tasted…”

“…a spiral, honey-baked ham…”

“And mashed rutabagas. You know how much he likes them.”

“He says he has to go shopping for presents….”

“We should take him out fishing, first chance. Remember how he needed to be out on the water after he came home from the army?”

“…so much new stuff to be sorted through. We’re just leaving it for him. He’ll need to do things like that.”

“The kids will be fine with us, and you both need to get away for a while. He’s so pale.”

Barbara closed her eyes and thought about the coast, a rocky stretch of beach with no one in sight, no one in earshot, a place where she could scream and scream. Frank touched her arm and she jumped, startled.

“Bobby, it’s all right,” he said. “It really is.”

But what if it isn’t? she wanted to cry. What if I lost him after all the promises I made? What if the jury believes Marta Delancey in spite of everything? She looked across the room and met Maggie’s gaze. What if I got the money for her, and lost Ray? She’ll hate me. I’ll hate myself. What’s the money worth if he’s lost? This is what John was afraid of, what he meant. He hates this—lying, cheating, conniving—and he’s right. Nothing good can come out of a lie. My entire case was based on a lie….

Frank put his arm about her shoulders and squeezed, then he moved on to talk to Papa Arno.

At a quarter to five they were summoned back to the courtroom; the jury had a decision.

She felt frozen as she watched the ritual; the sheet of paper passed from Mr. Tomlinson to the bailiff, who took it to the judge. She put on her glasses to read it, then took them off again and asked the foreman if the jury had reached its decision.

“Yes, your honor. We find the defendant, Ray Arno, not guilty.”

Then it was bedlam. As if she knew the Amos could no longer be contained, Judge Waldman spoke over their cries and laughter and shouts. She thanked the jury and dismissed them, and told Ray he was free, and she left the bench as if unaware of the circus taking place in the courtroom.

Everyone was hugging everyone else, crying and laughing. Ray grabbed Barbara and hugged and kissed her. Roxbury wormed his way through the group and shook Barbara’s hand, then walked out, and the jurors came to shake Ray’s hand, and talk and talk. They wanted to talk as much as the Arnos. Again, Barbara could hear only snatches of what was being said, as one after another of the Arnos hugged her. Ray and Lorinne were both crying, surrounded by brothers and wives and children, hardly giving him breathing space; Maggie’s daughters were holding Shelley; all three were jumping up and down, laughing and crying. Mama Arno was hugging the jurors, crying, thanking them. She invited them to dinner on New Year’s Day, all of them.