But the first real blow came when they were denied a change of venue. David had petitioned on the basis that there was no way she could get a fair trial in Wat-seka, people were just too prejudiced in favor of her father. The papers had been hanging her for months, embellishing the story wherever possible, and enhancing each new twist they could invent. By September, she sounded like a sex-crazed teenage monster who had spent months plotting her father's death, so she could get his money. The fact that there seemed to be almost no money there seemed to have escaped everyone's notice. They also referred to her as promiscuous, and implied that she had had sexual designs on her father, and killed him in a jealous fit. The story had been told a thousand ways, but none of them true, and all of them damaging to Grace. David couldn't imagine how they would ever get a fair shake from a jury, certainly in this town, or maybe in any other.
The selection of the jurors took a full week, and because of the seriousness of the case, and based on an impassioned petition from David, the judge agreed to sequester the jury. The judge himself was a crusty old man, who shouted at everyone from the bench, and had frequently played golf with her father. But he refused to disqualify himself on the grounds that they hadn't been close friends, and he felt he could be impartial. The only thing that encouraged David was that if they didn't get a fair trial, or a favorable verdict, he could try to get a mistrial. Or it might help them on appeal. He was already planning ahead, and he was seriously worried.
The prosecution presented their case, and it was powerfully damning. According to them, she had planned to kill her father the night of her mother's funeral, to inherit what little they had left before he could spend it, or remarry. She had had no idea that she could never inherit from him if she killed him. Photographs presented as evidence showed her father to be an attractive man, and the prosecution implied repeatedly that Grace was in love with him, her very own father. So much so that she had not only tried to seduce him that night, by tearing her nightgown in half and exposing herself to him, now that her mother was gone, but she had also gone so far as to accuse him of rape after she killed him. There was evidence that she had had intercourse that night, they explained, but nothing supported the theory that it had been with her father. And what they suspected was that she had snuck off to meet someone that night, and when her father scolded her, she had tried to seduce him, and when he turned her down, Grace then killed him.
The prosecution was asking for a verdict of murder with intent to kill, which required an indeterminate sentence in prison, or even the death penalty. Hers was a heinous crime, the prosecutor told the jury and the people in the courtroom, which included an army of reporters from all over the country, and she had to pay for it to the ultimate degree. There would be no mercy for a girl who would wantonly kill her own father, and afterwards besmirch his reputation in an attempt to save herself from prison.
It was agonizing listening to what they said about her, it was like listening to them talk about someone else, as scores of people paraded to the witness stand to praise her father. Most of them said she was either shy, or strange. And her father's law partner gave the worst testimony of all. He claimed that she had asked him repeatedly the day of the funeral about her father's financial state, and what was left, after her mother's long illness.
“I didn't want to frighten her by telling her how much he'd spent on medical bills, or how much he owed me. So I just told her he had plenty of money.” He looked unhappily at the jury then. “I guess I never should have said that. Maybe if I hadn't, he'd be alive today,” he said, looking at Grace with reproach that was palpable in the courtroom, as she stared at him in horrified amazement.
“I never said anything to him,” she whispered to David, as they sat at the defendant's table. She couldn't believe Frank had said that. She had never asked him anything about her father or his money.
“I'm sure you didn't,” David said unhappily. Molly had been right. The guy was a snake, and he was trying to get rid of Grace. David knew by then that John Adams had left everything to Frank in the event of Grace's death, or should she become incapacitated in any way, the house, the practice, and any cash he had. There wasn't much, but David suspected that there was more than Frank wanted anyone to know. And all he wanted now was to ensure that Grace would never inherit. If she was acquitted, she might still be able to appeal and maybe inherit a portion of the estate. Frank Wills wanted to be certain that didn't happen. “I believe you,” David reassured Grace again, but the problem was that no one else would. Why should they? She had killed her father, admittedly. And Frank Wills was a convincing witness.
The prosecution eventually rested their case, and then it was David's turn to bring witnesses forward to testify about her character and her behavior. But there were so few people who knew her, a few teachers, some old friends. Most people said she was shy and withdrawn, and David explained exactiy why that was, she was hiding a dark secret at home, and living a life of terror. And then he put the resident who had examined her at Mercy General on the stand. He explained in graphic detail the extent of the damage when he'd seen her.
“Could you say for certain that Miss Adams had been raped?” the prosecutor asked on cross-examination.
“Not with absolute certainty, one never can. One has to rely to some extent on the reports of the victim. But one could definitely say that there had been abusive sex over a long period of time. There were old scars of tears and damage that had been caused, and of course extensive new ones.”
“Could that kind of ‘abuse’ occur in normal sex, or sex of an unduly energetic, or even somewhat degenerate nature? In other words, if Miss Adams was masochistic in any way, or liked to be ‘punished’ by any of her supposedly various boyfriends, would it lead to the same kind of results?” he asked pointedly, with flagrant disregard for the fact that everyone who knew her said she had never gone out with anyone, or had a boyfriend.
“Yes, I guess if she liked it rough, you could say that the same damage might occur … it would have to be very rough though,” the resident said thoughtfully, and the prosecutor smiled evilly at the jury.
“I guess that's how some people like it.”
David objected constantly, and he did a heroic job, but it was an uphill struggle to battle their claim of premeditation. He put Molly on the witness stand, and finally, Grace herself, and she was deeply moving. In any other town, she would have convinced anyone made of stone, but not in this one. The people of Wat-seka loved John Adams, and they didn't want to believe her. People were talking about it everywhere. In stores, in restaurants. It was constantly all over the papers. Even the local TV news carried daily reports of the trial, and flashed photographs of Grace on the screen at every opportunity. It was endless.
The jury deliberated for three days, and David and Grace and Molly sat waiting in the courtroom. And when they got tired of it, they walked the halls for hours, with a guard walking quietly behind them. Grace was so used to handcuffs now, she hardly noticed when they put them on, except when they put them on too tightly on purpose. That usually happened with deputies who had known and liked her father. And it was stranger than ever to realize that if the jury acquitted her, she would suddenly be free again. She would walk away from all of this, as though it had never happened. But as the days droned on, it seemed less than likely that she would win her freedom. David tormented himself over the obstacles he'd been unable to overcome. And Molly sat and held Grace's hand. The three of them had become very close in the past two months. They were the only friends Grace had ever had, and she had slowly come not only to trust them, but to love them.