The Professor (McMurtrie and Drake Legal Thrillers #1)(75)

“Yes, he paid me.”

“He was a customer of yours that night, wasn’t he?”

“Yes.”

Tom nodded. “Isn’t it also true, Ms Newton, that the man sitting behind Mr Willistone in the courtroom today has come at least once a week to the Sundowners Club for a VIP dance for the last three months?”

“Yes.”

“And each time he’s paid you.”

“Yes, of course, he’s a regular.”

Tom looked at the jury. “And then this same man, this ‘regular’ as you call him, the man sitting behind Jack Willistone in court today, drove you the four and a half hours to court today, correct?”

Wilma nodded. “Yes.”

Tom held his eyes on the jury for several seconds. Then he looked at Judge Cutler.

“No further questions, your honor.”



Rick watched the whole thing in awe. Wilma had been a trap set by Jack Willistone. But the Professor blocked it. He suspected something, did the investigation and turned it on them. Rick shook his head as the Professor took the seat next to him. But how? How could he do that in three days?

“Mr Tyler, are you going to have any questions of this witness tomorrow?” Judge Cutler asked.

Rick glanced across the courtroom, where Tyler was looking out the window. “Mr Tyler!” the Judge bellowed.

Tyler turned his eyes to the Judge and slowly stood. He looked at Wilma Newton for a second, then shook his head.

“I have no questions, your honor.”

“Fair enough. The witness is excused. Members of the jury, it has been a long day, and you’ve been very patient. We will start back up tomorrow morning at 9.”

Cutler banged his gavel, and the sound of rustling filled the courtroom as people began to head for the doors. Rick turned to the Professor.

“How did you do that?”

Tom shrugged. “It was nothing, really. After I processed everything you told me and reviewed the file, it smelled funny to me. I did some investigation.”

Rick’s eyes widened. “In three days?”

Tom smiled. “I had a little help.”

Rick squinted, and started to say something else, but the Professor held his hands up. “I’ll tell you everything, OK? But let’s get moving. Tomorrow is another day. We just bloodied their nose a little bit, but the fight’s not over. Tomorrow the jury’s going to learn what Wilma Newton really told y’all. I set the jury up for it,” Tom said, smiling. “I even showed them a picture.”

Rick felt his stomach tighten. Dawn. “Professor, I don’t think that’s...”

“We have no choice, Rick. You heard his honor. He’s not going to let you testify, and we need someone to tell the jury what Wilma Newton really said. Dawn’s our only option.”

Rick nodded. “Professor, I have no idea where she is. What if we can’t find...”

“Don’t worry about that,” Tom said, turning from the table. “I have someone working on it, and... we will.”





61


Jameson Tyler remained seated at the counsel table. Legs crossed, fist on his chin. Thinking.

“Mr Tyler, you ready to go?” his associate, Clark McPheeters, asked. McPheeters had packed both their briefcases. “Mr Tyler?”

“Yeah, Clark. Yeah. Tell you what,” he said, grabbing the keys out of his pocket, “why don’t you go get the car and swing it around. Pick me up out front. I want to talk to Mr Willistone for a second.” McPheeters smiled and took the keys. Probably never driven a Porsche before, Tyler thought, but the usual egotistical pleasure he would have gotten from such a scene was gone. Fuck me, he thought, finally getting up from his seat.

Seeing Jack Willistone outside the courtroom, Tyler’s adrenaline shot up, and he didn’t hesitate. He grabbed the big man by the collar and pushed him into the wall.

“I didn’t need that today, Jack. We... we did not need that,” Tyler said, seething.

Jack just smiled. “I don’t want to hurt you, barrister. So I’m going to ask nicely. Take your goddamn hands off me.” Tyler loosened his grip, and Jack pushed him hard, causing him to stumble several steps backwards.

“What’s your game?” Tyler asked, quickly regaining his balance.

Jack smiled again. “Winning.”

Tyler took a few steps closer to Jack, close enough where he could smell tobacco on the big man’s breath and clothes.

“Mine too,” Tyler said. “Mine too. But not like this.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Wilma Newton. You know damn well what I’m talking about. Bob Hawkins told me to stay away from you and let you handle Ms Newton. But your John Wayne cowboy shit just about f*cked us today. Now the jury thinks you might have paid Wilma Newton to testify. We don’t need that kind of help.”

Jack took a step closer. They were almost nose to nose.

“All that jury heard was that I paid for a long VIP dance.” Jack laughed. “So I like looking at titties. So what? My company runs trucks through Pulaski, I was in the area, and I wanted to see some skin. Are you telling me you really can’t handle that?

“What about the driver? The guy who drove Wilma to the courtroom, and who watched the VIP dance with you?”