The same result.
‘Finally — and if any of you disagree, we can postpone this question — can we vote that whoever killed Jay Ferris did so with an intent to murder him? My own opinion is that if you point a gun at someone’s head and pull the trigger, your intent is pretty clear. But that’s just me.’
They voted, and they agreed that intent had been established.
‘That’s progress,’ Eleanor announced with a smile. ‘That leaves us with one question, and it’s the big one. We have to decide whether the state proved beyond a reasonable doubt that Janine Snow caused the death of Jay Ferris. I think it’s important that we review all the evidence carefully regardless of what any of us is thinking at this particular moment. Right? But I also think it would be useful for each of us to share our preliminary opinion, recognizing that our opinion might change as we look at the facts. Okay?’
Howard felt his body tense. Sweat gathered on his neck. This was the moment he’d anticipated, but he had no idea what to say.
Reasonable doubt. The judge had told them: Reasonable doubt is just what it sounds like. It’s doubt based in reason and common sense. The state does not have to prove its case beyond all doubt. Some doubt always exists about most things in life.
‘Let’s go around the room,’ Eleanor said.
Answer yes or no, she told them. Answer yes if you think the state proved its case. Yes if you’re ready to declare Janine Snow guilty of murder.
The juror on the other side of Eleanor answered first. ‘Yes.’
And another. ‘Yes.’
One juror declined to answer. So did the next. And then:
‘Yes.’
‘Yes.’
Howard stared at their faces. They made it look so easy. They’d sat in the same courtroom as him, and the case was already clear in their minds. They’d looked into Janine’s face and seen a killer there.
‘Yes.’
‘Yes.’
Don’t be influenced by emotion or passion, the judge had said. The only thing you should look at are the facts of the case.
‘Yes.’
‘Yes.’
The vote around the table reached Howard. There hadn’t been a single person to vote no. Not a single person with doubt. Only two jurors had declined to vote openly, and the rest had made up their minds.
Guilty.
‘I–I’m not sure,’ Howard said. ‘I guess I have to say no.’
There was silence in the room. Howard felt their eyes on him, and his skin burned with embarrassment. Did they know? Did they know how he felt about Janine? Don’t be influenced by emotion or passion.
‘Fine,’ Eleanor said. ‘My own vote is yes. Howard, could you tell us about the doubts you have? That may help us think through the evidence.’
Howard tried to organize his thoughts. Yes, he had doubt. Was it reasonable doubt? He didn’t know. Part of him wanted to believe there was no way that Janine could have pulled the trigger. Part of him wanted to rescue her. Another part of him, the cold part, heard Carol’s voice from months earlier. She did it.
‘They didn’t prove that Janine fired a gun,’ Howard pointed out. ‘Or that she even had a gun.’
The hotel manager Bruce said acidly: ‘Janine?’
Howard flushed. ‘The defendant.’
‘I think we should call her Dr. Snow,’ Eleanor suggested. ‘She’s the defendant, but she’s also a human being, and we’re deciding how she’s going to spend the rest of her life. Let’s not forget that.’
‘They couldn’t prove Dr. Snow fired a gun because she took a shower,’ Bruce retorted. ‘How convenient is that? She just happened to be doing the one thing that would erase evidence of her firing a gun.’
Several jurors grumbled their agreement.
Another woman spoke up. ‘Plus, we saw a photograph of her firing a gun. For me, that’s a big thing. You’re either a gun person, or you’re not. I wouldn’t have a clue how to fire a gun. Dr. Snow knew.’
‘Nathan Skinner also testified that Dr. Snow asked him how to get a gun,’ Bruce pointed out. ‘On the QT.’
‘That’s true, but do we believe Nathan Skinner?’ Eleanor asked. ‘He’s an important witness, but I’m not sure I find him credible.’
‘Maybe Skinner killed Ferris,’ Howard suggested. ‘Maybe he’s trying to frame Dr. Snow.’
Bruce shook his head. ‘That’s crazy.’
‘Why?’ Howard asked. ‘Skinner has no alibi for the time of the murder.’
‘We saw phone records,’ Bruce replied. ‘From early December to January 28, Skinner didn’t call Snow. He didn’t call Ferris. They didn’t call him. There was no contact at all. So all of a sudden, seven weeks after she breaks off the affair, Skinner goes over there with a gun? I don’t think so. Plus, we heard testimony from the pizza girl who said Ferris was in his apartment the night of the murder, sick as a dog, watching a hockey game. The game started at 9:00 p.m. What do you think? Before the third period, he suddenly got it in his head to drive to Ferris’s place and shoot him? Sorry, I don’t buy it.’
Howard said nothing. The other jurors nodded their heads.
‘All right, but what about Skinner’s testimony that Dr. Snow asked him about getting a gun?’ Eleanor said. ‘I just don’t think I believe him about that. They were lovers. Frankly, if she wanted a gun, he would have gotten her one. And he didn’t do that.’
Bruce pursed his lips and shrugged. ‘Yeah. Yeah, I guess I’m with you on that.’
‘Let’s focus on what we do know,’ Eleanor went on. ‘In her statement to the police, Dr. Snow admitted that she was home when the murder occurred. She admitted arguing with her husband, which was confirmed by testimony from Cindy Stride. Mrs. Stride also testified that Dr. Snow wanted to get a divorce, but she couldn’t because she felt trapped.’
‘Feeling trapped doesn’t mean she killed her husband,’ Howard insisted.
‘She’s a pill junkie!’ Bruce barked. ‘Ferris was holding it over her head. You bet she was trapped. And she only had one way out. Bang!’
There was silence again. The twelve of them looked at each other, and Howard felt all of them looking at him. The man with doubt. The only man who wasn’t ready to throw Janine into the fire.
29
Stride pulled up to the gravel driveway of Jessie Klayman’s house in the town of Gary. It was on Dickson Street, near where the road dead-ended. The house was single-level, with a detached garage and wooden steps leading to the front door. The large yard was mostly scrub grass and weeds, and in back, the lot butted up to a line of trees. He saw two cars in the driveway, a green Dodge Neon and a rusted Pontiac Firebird.
He got out on one side of his Bronco, and Maggie got out on the other.
‘Know where we are?’ she asked, pointing down the street to 108th. ‘Turn left there and left again on Becks—’
‘Ely’s Peak,’ Stride said.
‘Yeah.’
He studied the small house. He’d walked up ordinary driveways to ordinary houses too many times to take it lightly. The outside never told him what was happening inside. ‘Stay alert,’ he said.
They headed for the front door, where he pressed the doorbell and heard the chime. Thirty seconds passed before a woman answered. She pushed the storm door open and smiled, but her eyes were wary. If this woman worked security, she knew how to recognize cops.
‘Can I help you?’ she asked. Her voice had the overexcited trill of a bird at dawn.
‘Are you Jessie Klayman?’ Stride asked. When the woman nodded, he said, ‘My name’s Jonathan Stride, and this is Maggie Bei. We’re with the Duluth Police.’ He showed her his badge, but she hardly looked at it.