Sean’s interested expression turned to one of quick sympathy.
“Oh, I’m real y sorry,” he said. “Is your mother going to be okay? How is she doing?”
Hannah looked at Sean with al the frankness she could muster up. “For now,” she said. She cleared her throat. Sean’s expression had changed completely, his dark blue eyes were regarding her with real empathy. She needed to change the subject.
“Can you tel me more about the case?” she asked. “The Dandridge case, I mean. I know next to nothing about it. I didn’t expect to be working on it, so I feel like I’m coming from behind.”
Hannah winced inwardly. That had been an unnecessary lie. She could have said she’d read some of the reporting about the case; there would have been nothing unusual about that. She put her beer down on the table, pushed it away a little. She needed to be more careful.
Sean ran his hand through his hair. “I feel like I’m just getting up to speed myself. I mean, I read al the public stuff over the break, because I knew the case was one of ours, but I didn’t work on it last year. None of the students did, so I haven’t seen the case file or anything.”
“I read through some of it today,” Camila said. “I started a good facts/bad facts list.”
Hannah’s confusion must have shown on her face because Camila started to explain.
“It’s something Parekh likes to do when we work on a case. He has one of us start a good fact/bad fact list on a white board. You know, we list the facts in the case that would help our client with a jury, and the facts that would hurt us.”
“Okay,” Hannah said. “That’s interesting.”
“So what did you come up with?” Sean asked.
“Wel , okay. Here’s an obvious bad fact—the eyewitness. Sam Fitzhugh. He was a little boy. His mom was murdered. He’s always going to be an incredibly sympathetic figure to a jury, right? If he’s convincing on the stand that could be the whole case, right there.”
“True,” Sean said, nodding. “Okay, some good facts. Dandridge didn’t know the victim. He’d never been to her apartment. There’s no DNA placing him there.”
“Yes,” said Camila. “And he had a job. That’s a good fact. But he also played around with drugs, smoked a lot of weed. That’s a bad fact. He was estranged from his family at least partial y because of his drug use. And here’s something that didn’t come up in the briefing today—Dandridge claimed to have an alibi but the guy disappeared. I don’t know if that’s a good fact or a bad fact. How do you categorize that one?”
“What do you mean, disappeared?” Hannah asked.
Camila leaned forward. She had abandoned her earlier standoffishness. Her face was alive now with interest. “Dandridge says in his statement that he spent the night of the murder hanging out with a guy cal ed Neil Prosper. They were drinking, smoking, listening to music. Earlier in the night they ordered takeout, which was confirmed by the pizza company, although because the pizza had been ordered and delivered hours before the murder, this wasn’t much help.”
“But you said . . . he disappeared? Neil Prosper?”
Camila shrugged. “He was never cal ed in the original trial. The original defense attorney couldn’t find him. There’s no public record of his death, and his family claim not to have heard from him for years—not since shortly after Dandridge’s arrest, in fact.”
“That’s strange,” Hannah said. To her it only made Dandridge look more guilty. Why would his only alibi disappear shortly after his arrest? Didn’t it seem likely that this Prosper guy didn’t want to be found? Which suggested an obvious conclusion—that he had been involved in some way in the murder and didn’t want to be caught.
Sean looked at his watch. “Shit,” he said. “I have to go. I’m sorry, guys. I have a paper due tomorrow, and it’s getting late.” He stood, zipped up his backpack. “Can I give either of you a ride?” he asked.
Camila shrugged. “I’m good,” she said. “I think I’l stay and finish my beer. Catch up with Hannah here, if she’s not in a rush.”
“Al right then. I’d better go and get this done if I’m going to be in the office with you guys al day tomorrow. Don’t stay out carousing al night.” He gave them a final wave.
“He’s had enough of me,” Camila said, watching him leave. “I can’t blame him. I should have let it go, but Hazel’s always managed to get under my skin.”