"He's cute, though," Stride said. He knew he was poking the bear, but he couldn't resist.
Maggie frowned. "You're a pig, too."
"Oink," Stride said.
"How's the teacher?"
"I almost killed both of us on a boat yesterday afternoon. Other than that, fine."
"She went on a boat with you voluntarily?" Maggie deadpanned.
"Funny. Don't tell Guppo. He almost lost his boss and his boat with one wave."
"The boss would be no big deal. He'd sue your estate over the boat."
A ripple of noise filled the courtroom. They noticed spectators craning their heads and turned to see Archibald Gale make his entrance with the panache of a movie star. Gale wore a navy three-piece suit, perfectly tailored as usual, with a neat triangle of handkerchief showing above his pocket. His small gold glasses glinted in the light.
Stride was always amazed at how light on his feet Gale seemed for such a large, imposing man. Gale almost seemed to glide. He stopped to shake several hands on his way to the bar, then roared through the swinging gate. He deposited his slim burgundy briefcase on the defendant's table, then interrupted Dan long enough to lean down and whisper something in his ear. Stride watched Gale's lips and could make out what the lawyer said.
"Don't say I didn't warn you, Daniel."
Seeing Gale, the bailiff opened a side door, and a guard escorted Graeme Stoner, dressed as impeccably as his attorney, into the courtroom. Graeme maintained the same even demeanor Stride had seen in him from the very beginning, cool, confident, with a slight amusement in his eyes. He didn't blink or flinch when he saw his wife, who was soon to be his ex-wife. Graeme simply smiled at her, then sat down and began a hushed conversation with Archibald Gale.
Emily, in contrast, could not take her eyes off Graeme. It was as if she had seen a ghost that she hated with all her soul.
At nine o'clock, the bailiff called for the crowd to rise. Judge Catharine Kassel, forty years old, with a black robe obscuring her slim figure, entered the courtroom. She had been appointed to the bench two years earlier, and soon afterward Law & Politics magazine named her the Sexiest Judge in Minnesota. With impeccably coiffed blonde hair and an elegant, tapered face, she lived up to the billing, Even so, most lawyers feared her. Her cool gray eyes could quickly turn to ice in the courtroom.
Seated, Judge Kassel cast a wary eye on the crowd.
"Let me remind all of you," she announced firmly, "that I want no demonstrations of any kind throughout the proceeding. Consider this a zero tolerance policy. Anyone who violates it will be escorted out immediately and will not return. I hope I am being very clear about that."
The courtroom was absolutely silent. Then Judge Kassel smiled, and she was radiant. "I'm glad we understand each other."
She motioned to the bailiff.
The jury was brought in and took their places uncomfortably, staring anxiously at the sea of faces in the courtroom. Judge Kassel welcomed them, adopting a more friendly tone to keep the jury at ease. They would spend the next several days separated from friends and family in the downtown Holiday Inn, and Stride could see in their faces that they were anxious for the trial to begin and end.
The judge gave the jury a minute to settle down and led the courtroom through the usual preliminaries.
Then she invited Dan Erickson to give his opening statement.
Dan took his time. He made eye contact with each juror.
He held up an enlarged school photograph of Rachel, a cryptic smile on her face. He looked at it, then held it delicately in his hands, facing the jury. He allowed her image to sink into all of their minds.
"This is Rachel Deese," he told them. "She's beautiful. A pretty seventeen-year-old girl with her whole life ahead of her. Unfortunately, a month after this photo was taken, Rachel disappeared. The evidence that was found in the subsequent weeks leads us to an unhappy conclusion. This beautiful girl was murdered."
Dan stared at his feet, shaking his head sadly.
"I wish I could make it easy for you. I wish someone had been there on that Friday night in October, other than Rachel and the man who killed her, to sit here in the witness stand and tell you how it all came about. But I think you know that most murders don't happen in public. Murder is an ugly, private business."
He turned and stared at Graeme Stoner, allowing the jury to follow his eyes. Then he continued.
"But if murderers keep their own secrets, how do we convict them? Often, as in this case, we use what is called circumstantial evidence. These are facts that, when taken together, lead you to an inescapable conclusion about a defendant's actions and his guilt. Let me give you an example. A man is found stabbed to death in his home. No one saw the crime. No one saw who killed him. There is no direct evidence at all. Nonetheless, we discover another man's fingerprints on the murder weapon. We discover that this man had a grudge against the victim. We discover that this man had no alibi for the night of the murder. We find traces of blood matching the victim's on his shoes. This is all circumstantial evidence that tells us the truth about the crime."
Dan waited, absorbing the looks on their faces, making sure they understood.
"And in this trial, you will see overwhelming circumstantial evidence about the murder of Rachel Deese. You will be convinced beyond any reasonable doubt that the man at the defendant's table, Graeme Stoner, killed this beautiful girl and disposed of her body.
"Who is this man?" Erickson demanded, jabbing a bony finger at Stoner. "In this trial, we'll pull aside the mask that this man puts on for the world. We'll show you someone very different. Someone who keeps a naked photo of his stepdaughter on his computer. Someone who fantasizes about sex with teenage girls. Someone with a dark secret about his relationship with Rachel. He was having a sexual affair with her."
He paused, letting the jury reflect on this conclusion. He let them stare at Graeme and wonder what was behind his impassive expression. It didn't matter that Graeme was wearing a business suit, as he would for any workday at the bank. Dan wanted the jury to see his clothes as a facade for a dirty mind.
"And what of Rachel?" Dan asked. "I'm going to be honest with you. I don't know where Rachel's body is. There's only one person who does, and he's sitting over there at the defense table. You may wonder why we know a murder has been committed, if we can't show you a body. You'll hear the defense try to tell you that, because we have no body, it's possible for you to believe that Rachel is still alive."
Dan shook his head.
"Is it possible? Well, I suppose it's possible that Elvis is still alive. But you're not here to determine what's possible. You're here to determine the facts beyond a reasonable doubt. So remember this. When you see the physical evidence we have gathered, you'll realize that the only reasonable conclusion you can draw is that Rachel was murdered, and her body hidden somewhere in the vast wilderness of northern Minnesota. Sadly, no one may ever find her. It's a terrible, tragic reality. But not knowing where her murderer disposed of her body doesn't change the truth. Rachel is dead. You will be convinced of that.
"We're going to retrace her steps for you. We'll show you videotape of this girl driving home on a Friday night. She's safe. She's smiling. She's just made a date with a boy for the next night. And yet this same girl is never seen again. Instead, we find a fragment of a shirt she was wearing-a shirt she had purchased only a few days earlier-stained with her blood, in a wooded area a few miles north of town. We find a bracelet she treasured lying on the ground. That's the last we know of Rachel."
Erickson shot a withering look at Graeme Stoner, then turned sharply back to the jury. "And what connects these two scenes? The girl in the car, alive and happy, and the bloody scrap of clothing found miles away? Well, Rachel was heading home that night, where Graeme Stoner was alone. Rachel's mother was out of town. And in the driveway of the house was Graeme Stoner's van, locked up tight. In that van, you'll find the evidence that links the scenes together. More of Rachel's blood. Rachel's bloody fingerprint on the blade of a knife. More fibers from the turtleneck she was wearing. And Graeme Stoner's fingerprints on the same knife.