The Guardians(94)
Zeke gets roughed-up on cross when Carmen zeros in on his colorful history of lying in court. When did the lying stop, or has it? Why should anyone believe that you’re not lying now? And so on. But he survived this before and he handles it well. More than once he says, “Yes ma’am, I admit I’ve lied before, but I’m not lying now. I swear.”
Our next witness is Carrie Holland Pruitt. It took some work to convince Carrie and Buck to make the long drive to Orlando, but when Guardian generously threw in a family package of tickets to Disney World the deal was sealed. Mind you, Guardian cannot afford such family packages to Disney World, but Vicki, as always, somehow found the money.
With Bill Cannon in complete control, Carrie recalls her sad history in the prosecution of Quincy Miller. She did not see a black man running away from the scene, holding what appeared to be a stick, or something. Indeed, she didn’t see anything. Didn’t hear anything. She was coerced into lying at trial by Sheriff Pfitzner and Forrest Burkhead, the former prosecutor. She told her lies, and the following day Pfitzner gave her a thousand dollars in cash, told her to catch the next bus, and threatened to jail her for perjury if she ever returned to Florida.
After the first sentence or two of her testimony, her eyes begin to water. Before long her voice cracks. Halfway through it’s a tear-fest as she lays claim to her lies and says she’s sorry. She was a confused kid back then, doing drugs and dating a bad boyfriend, a cop, and she needed the money. Now, she’s been clean and sober for fifteen years and never misses a day of work. But she has thought about Quincy many times. She sobs and we wait for her to get control. Buck is on the front row, wiping his cheeks too.
Judge Kumar calls for a recess and we break for an hour. His clerk apologizes and says he is tending to an urgent matter in chambers. Marvis Miller arrives and huddles with his brother while a guard watches from a distance. I sit with Mazy and Vicki and analyze the testimony so far. A reporter wants a word but I decline.
At 4:30, we convene again and Bill Cannon calls our last witness for the day. I have just informed Quincy to lessen the shock. When Cannon says the name “June Walker,” Quincy turns and stares at me. I smile and nod reassuringly.
Frankie does not tire easily, especially when stalking people of color who need to cooperate with us. Over the months he gradually cultivated a relationship with Otis Walker in Tallahassee, and from there got to know June. They resisted at first and were still upset by the fact that Quincy’s lawyers had painted such an unflattering picture of his first wife. But with time, Frankie managed to impress upon June and Otis that old lies should be corrected if you’re given the chance. Quincy didn’t kill anybody, yet June had helped the real killers, a bunch of white men.
She rises from the third row and walks with a purpose to the witness stand where she is sworn in by the clerk. I’ve spent time with June and tried to impress upon her that there will be nothing easy about sitting in a courtroom and admitting to perjury. I’ve also assured her that she cannot and will not be prosecuted for it.
She nods at Quincy and grits her teeth. Bring it on. She gives her name and address and says that her first husband was Quincy Miller. They had three children together before the marriage flamed out in a bitter divorce. She’s on our side and Bill Cannon treats her with respect. He lifts some papers from his desk and addresses her.
“Now, Mrs. Walker, I direct your attention back many years ago to the murder trial of your ex-husband, Quincy Miller. In that trial you testified on behalf of the prosecution, and in doing so you made a series of statements. I would like to go through them, okay?”
She nods and says quietly, “Yes sir.”
Cannon adjusts his reading glasses and looks at the trial transcript. “The prosecutor asked you this question: ‘Did the defendant Quincy Miller own a twelve-gauge shotgun?’ And your response was, ‘I think so. He had some pistols. I don’t know much about guns, but, yes, Quincy had a big shotgun.’
“Now, Mrs. Walker, was your answer truthful?”
“No sir, it was not. I never saw a shotgun around our house, never knew Quincy to have one.”
“Okay. The second statement. The prosecutor asked you this question: ‘Did the defendant enjoy hunting and fishing?’ And your response: ‘Yes sir, he didn’t hunt much but went out to the woods from time to time with his friends, usually shooting birds and rabbits.’
“Now, Mrs. Walker, was your answer truthful?”
“No, it was not. I never knew Quincy to go hunting. He liked to fish with his uncle a little, but no hunting.”
“Okay, third statement. The prosecutor handed you a color photograph of a flashlight and asked if you had ever seen Quincy with one like it. Your response: ‘Yes sir, this looks like the one he kept in his car.’
“Now, Mrs. Walker, was your answer truthful?”
“No, it was not. I never saw a flashlight like that one, not that I can remember anyway, and I sure never saw Quincy with one like it.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Walker. Last question. At trial the prosecutor asked you if Quincy was in the vicinity of Seabrook on the night Keith Russo was murdered. Your response: ‘I think so. Somebody said they saw him out at Pounder’s Store.’
“Mrs. Walker, was your answer truthful?”
She starts to answer but her voice fails her. She swallows hard, looks directly at her ex-husband, clenches her jaw, and says, “No sir, it wasn’t truthful. I never heard anybody say anything about Quincy being around that night.”