The Night Swim(71)
“Is it that bad? I haven’t been following it that closely. I’m going to listen to your podcast tonight. I heard that Nath Shaw is riled up about it. Figure it has to be good if it got him all steamed up.”
“Nath?” Rachel said. “I didn’t know you were on nickname terms with the judge.”
“I’ve known Nath since I was a kid. We lived next door to each other,” said Detective Cooper.
“I thought you were from Rhode Island.”
“I lived there for a long time, but I grew up here,” he said.
“If that’s the case then you must have known Mitch Alkins when you were growing up,” Rachel said, spotting an opportunity to get information. Ever since the morning she’d seen Alkins lay flowers at Jenny’s grave, she’d wanted to push her way into his orbit and demand that he tell her about his connection to Jenny.
“Mitch is a few years younger than me, but, sure, Mitch and I go way back,” Detective Cooper said, his tone cryptic. “Why the interest?”
Rachel hesitated over how far she should push it but figured she had nothing to lose. “I heard that when Mitch Alkins was young, he was close to a girl who was murdered.”
Detective Cooper looked at her oddly. “Where did you hear that from?”
“The murdered girl’s sister sent me a letter,” said Rachel.
“And she named Mitch in the letter?” Cooper asked, a catch in his voice.
“No, she didn’t,” Rachel admitted. “But I heard from an old-timer here that Alkins knew the girl.”
Detective Cooper was about to say something else when his phone rang. He took the call, moving away from her as he spoke while gesturing with his hand that she should wait. He obviously wanted to continue the discussion. His call dragged on and Rachel reluctantly went up the stairs into the courthouse.
Court was already in session by the time that Rachel slipped in and made her way to her assigned seat. She didn’t pay any attention to the witness who was being sworn in on the stand until she was settled into her usual place. When she did, she gasped.
It was the man who had frightened her at the Morrison’s Point jetty. In the bright light of the courtroom, Rachel was able to see him clearly for the first time. Jagged scars slashed across his cheekbone and forehead, marring what might have been a pleasant face for a man his age, which Rachel put in the mid-to late forties. His muscular arms and the hint of neck tattoos peeking out of his collar seemed out of place against his formal court attire. He wore a pressed suit, a white shirt, and a striped tie that looked a tad short as it hung over his protruding belly, which chafed against the tight fabric of his polyester shirt.
“Mr. Knox, can you tell me how you met Scott?” Quinn asked.
“It was a good three years ago, around the time I moved to Neapolis. I was at the surf beach south of town when a family got in trouble in the water. Tourists,” the witness said, as if that explained it. “They were pulled out to sea by crosscurrents. I swam in. Managed to pull one kid to shore. I tried to help the mother. She was fighting. Scratched and kicked me. Wanted me to leave her and get her other kid who was drifting further out and panicking. Worst thing you can do! If I’d left her, she would have drowned for sure. I didn’t know what to do. Next thing, a teenage boy swam out to the kid thrashing in the water. He grabbed the kid and brought him to shore while I helped the mother.”
“Is the teenager who rescued the drowning child here in the courtroom?” asked Quinn.
“Yes,” said the witness.
“Can you point him out for the court, Mr. Knox?” Quinn pushed, trying to hide his frustration with his own character witness, who needed to be prompted for every detail.
“He’s sitting over there,” the witness, whose full name, Rachel gathered from when he was sworn in, was Vince Knox, nodded toward the defense table, looking directly at Scott Blair.
“Is it your testimony that Scott was a hero? That he bravely risked his life to save the life of a drowning child?” Quinn prompted again.
“… He won a bravery award, so I suppose that makes him a hero,” Knox said after a prolonged hesitation. “Not too many people have the guts to risk their life for a stranger. Got to give credit where credit’s due,” he added in a flat voice that hardly sounded enthusiastic. His faint praise of Scott’s brave act struck Rachel as strange, but she supposed it fitted in with his gruff manner.
Quinn was visibly annoyed by his own witness’s terse answers. He’d obviously hoped for a far more enthusiastic account of Scott Blair’s courageous feat, diving into treacherous seas and risking his life to save a child from almost certain death. Quinn wrapped up questioning quickly. He’d elicited enough testimony to paint Scott Blair as a hero, a virtual Boy Scout who’d shown great courage by diving into the sea to save a drowning stranger.
Alkins opted not to cross-examine Vince Knox, though he reserved the right to recall him to the stand. Rachel figured that Alkins saw no upside in rehashing the defense witness’s testimony about Scott Blair’s bravery.
As Vince Knox left court, Rachel left her seat and followed him out of the courthouse, even though it meant missing Quinn’s next witness. Knox went down the steps and crossed the southern lawn. Rachel did so, too, holding back so that nobody would notice that she was following him. There was something about Knox’s testimony that bothered Rachel, and she wanted to ask him a few questions once he’d left the vicinity of the courthouse.