The Last Mile (Amos Decker, #2)(70)
“Be seated,” commanded the bailiff, and everyone returned to their respective chairs.
Mary Oliver sat next to the shackled Mars. Decker, dressed in the suit he had bought while shopping with Jamison, sat on the other side of him.
The state prosecutor held forth at the other counsel table. He was in his midfifties, with a patch of soft white hair that didn’t come close to covering his pink scalp. His shirt collar was stiff from being overstarched, and this attribute neatly matched the man’s demeanor. He had a file in front of him labeled Mars, Melvin. He was silently moving his lips, as though rehearsing what he was about to say.
In the second row of the courtroom sat Davenport and Jamison. There was a goodly number of reporters present because word had gotten round that Mars had been arrested. There were also a few dozen gawking local citizens to round out the audience.
The judge eyed both counsel tables and their respective occupants, cleared his throat, and said, “The defendant filed the motion, so let’s hear from him first.”
Oliver rose and straightened the jacket of her two-piece suit and adjusted her shirt cuffs.
“Your Honor, the state’s actions in this matter can be summed up as follows: It wrongly convicted my client, Mr. Mars, locked him up for over twenty years and very nearly executed him until it saw the error of its ways when presented with evidence of his innocence. It then granted him his liberty and with it a full pardon, and also ordered that he be paid the maximum compensation for his erroneous incarceration, not that twenty-five thousand dollars can make up for over two decades in prison.” She took a breath and seemed to swell with righteous indignation. “And now, shortly after granting him his freedom, it has unilaterally revoked his pardon and his liberty, placed him under arrest, and he now sits shackled before us. All of this was accomplished without benefit of a trial, or representation by counsel, thus denying him due process. That is why I filed the habeas corpus petition, because it is clear beyond doubt that the state is illegally detaining my client. I therefore ask that he be released forthwith, and that both the terms of his pardon and compensation be fully honored and enforced by this court.”
Oliver put a hand on Mars’s shoulder and added, “Anything less would be a travesty of justice and establish an unsustainable and dangerous precedent should the state be allowed to unilaterally renege on its agreement with my client, since we may assume that it will try to do so with other defendants in the future.”
“Understood,” said Judge Matthews. He turned to the state’s prosecutor. “Mr. Jenkins, counsel has made some excellent points. I don’t like the idea of the state going back on its word. It would wreak havoc with the system if defense counsel could not rely on agreements provided to them by your office.”
Jenkins rose, buttoned his jacket, smoothed down an errant strand of hair, glanced disapprovingly at Mars and Oliver, and then turned his attention fully to the judge.
“Your Honor,” he drawled. “The action which the state took was the only one, in good conscience, that it could take. While I’m the first to admit that the situation here is a little unusual—”
“That’s an understatement,” interjected Judge Matthews.
“Be that as it may, there was only one reason that Mr. Mars was released from prison.” Here he paused and held up a single finger for emphasis. “That was because another man, Charles Montgomery, now dead, executed by the state of Alabama for assorted heinous crimes, confessed to the murders for which Mr. Mars was previously convicted. After due investigation, it appeared that Mr. Montgomery did indeed have information and knowledge of the crimes which only the true perpetrator would have possessed. Now, due in large measure to the work performed by the FBI, it appears clear that Mr. Montgomery, and his wife, who, significantly enough, was likely murdered to cover up what went on, were paid a great sum of money to make that confession. Thus it is almost a certainty that Mr. Montgomery had no more to do with the murders of Roy and Lucinda Mars than you or I, Your Honor. Thus the state’s position is that the original conviction of Mr. Mars was right and just, and his incarceration at this time is warranted and legally proper.”
Jenkins glanced once more at Mars with an expression of cold contempt. “And let me add that the state of Texas will vigorously explore whether Mr. Mars was in any way connected to what amounts to a bald-faced attempt to deceive the criminal justice system of Texas, as he stood to benefit the most from this so-called confession by Mr. Montgomery.”
Oliver jumped to her feet. “There is not a shred of evidence that my client was in any way involved with this, Your Honor.”
Jenkins bristled. “Well, the fact that this now discredited confession came at the eleventh hour prior to the defendant’s scheduled execution seems an awfully large, and well-timed, coincidence.”
Oliver gave him an incredulous look and said in a tone dripping with sarcasm, “Yes, I’m sure that Mr. Mars waited until minutes before they were to put him to death before arranging from death row for this miracle confession to come along in the nick of time and save him.”
“There is no need to take that unprofessional tone,” snapped Jenkins.
“Regardless,” said Oliver, addressing the judge, “the state had ample time to investigate the veracity of Mr. Montgomery’s claims. It did so with the result that a full pardon was issued to my client. If the state is now allowed to go back on this agreement, the sanctity of the pardon will have been destroyed and no person may rely in the future on the state doing so without fear that it will once again renege.”