“So what is left to the trial? Do you know?”
“Well, the defense and the prosecution both rested at the end of the day.”
“So jury deliberations tomorrow? That was fast.”
“I think closing statements and then jury deliberation.”
“Oh. Closing statements, yes. But the jury will go out tomorrow.”
“Looks that way,” he said, thinking she didn’t seem rested enough to attend.
“I will have to be there, then.”
“You sure you’re up to going?”
“I will be there because I have to be there.”
“I could call you from the courthouse and tell you how it went.”
“No,” she said. With surprising firmness. It was a “no” he knew it would be pointless to question. “I need to be there when the verdict is announced. Oh. By the way. That nice woman called.”
“What nice woman?”
“The one whose husband is also Luis Velez. She got this number from the caller ID.”
“Oh. Yeah. She is a nice woman.”
“Very much, yes. We talked for a long time. She had already seen the story about Luis in the paper, so she knew what had happened, but she was very happy to hear from you again. She invited us to come to a Sunday supper with them. Anytime we want. We are just to call and let them know which Sunday we would like to come, so they know to make extra. She said she will make again that chocolate cake you liked so much.”
“Would you want to do that?”
“I don’t see why not,” she said. “In my very long life so far I have never met a Luis Velez I didn’t like.”
Chapter Fifteen
* * *
Objective Reality, or Lack of Same
“In conclusion,” the prosecuting attorney said, “I realize the defense has gone to great lengths to paint the defendant as a law-abiding citizen. Above reproach. But nobody does anything wrong until the moment they do. Everybody has a clean record the first time they break the law.”
Raymond thought the man looked tired. He wondered briefly if the attorney took on the stress of these cases as if the victim were one of his own. Or whether it simply mattered to his career whether the outcome of this trial fell into the win or loss category. Or maybe it was unrelated. Maybe he’d stayed up partying too late the night before.
He glanced over at Isabel, who was bouncing the baby gently in her arms. Ramon was fussy. Everyone could hear him fussing, and Raymond could see everyone try to focus away from it. Whatever the prosecutor said next, Raymond missed it, thinking about the baby.
Ramon let out one scorching cry before Isabel managed to swing him back and forth to settle him.
Isabel rose as if to offer to step out of the room. But the prosecutor directed her to sit. Guided her with a motion of his hand.
“No,” he said. “You have a right to be here. That baby has a right to be here. He’s an important reminder for the jury. He’s growing up without a father. The defense will ask you to imagine what it would be like to be Ms. Hatfield,” he said, turning back to face the jury. “To be looking at jail time when you’d left the house that fateful morning not planning to do anything wrong. I’m going to ask you to imagine how it would feel to be Mrs. Velez, or her baby. Or one of her two other young children. You’re going along living your life, planning to grow old together. And then along comes a woman who thinks she knows who should be feared. She’s wrong about your loved one, but she comes to trial still claiming that she knows a threat when she sees one. But you know your loved one was not a threat. Everyone knows it by now, but it’s too late. One bad decision from her, and your life is blown apart. And it never goes back together again. She shot a man to death who meant her no harm, and she will tell you it was an accident. But it was an accident with life-changing consequences for this woman and child. Shouldn’t there be some consequences for the shooter?
“I mean, ladies and gentlemen, there are accidents, and then there are accidents. If she had dropped the gun and it had gone off, that would be a pure accident. But she pulled that trigger. Six times. A voluntary act every time. And she was wrong. I’m sorry, but when you fire six bullets at a fellow New Yorker, you can’t be wrong. He has to have meant you harm. Or you at least have to be able to point to some very real evidence that made you think he meant you harm. Otherwise it’s voluntary manslaughter.
“Sure, we all want to live in a safer city. We all want to live in a safer world. But Luis Velez was not the one making us less safe. A woman with a handgun she was far too quick to use, she was the one who made our streets even more dangerous. She’s the one who brought this instance of gunfire onto our streets, and she killed an innocent man. And there has to be a price to pay for that. What is a life worth? You tell me.”