Chapters (86)
- Cover
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- Prologue
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- ThursdayChapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- FridayChapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- SaturdayChapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- SundayChapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- MondayChapter 20
- Chapter 21
- TuesdayChapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- WednesdayChapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- ThursdayChapter 49
- Chapter 50
- Chapter 51
- Chapter 52
- Chapter 53
- Chapter 54
- Chapter 55
- Chapter 56
- Chapter 57
- Chapter 58
- Chapter 59
- Chapter 60
- Chapter 61
- FridayChapter 62
- Chapter 63
- Chapter 64
- Chapter 65
- Chapter 66
- Chapter 67
- Chapter 68
- Chapter 69
- Chapter 70
- Chapter 71
- Chapter 72
- Chapter 73
- Chapter 74
- Chapter 75
- Chapter 76
- Chapter 77
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Also by Greg Iles
- About the Publisher
“Well, ladies and gentlemen, these proceedings are not a popularity contest. This is a criminal trial. A murder trial. And you are bound by oath to follow the law and the instructions of the judge to the best of your ability. Your duty is clear. Do not let a warm voice and a fine turn of phrase distract you from the cruel facts of this case.”
When Shad retakes his seat at the prosecution table, exactly twenty-nine minutes have elapsed, yet not once did I ever see him look at his watch or the clock mounted high on the courtroom wall. The jury looks appropriately impressed by his performance. After he sits, they turn as one to study the district attorney’s wheelchair-bound opponent, who suddenly does not seem quite as formidable as he did this morning.
As Quentin rolls his chair forward, I suddenly realize how badly he would like to rise from that chair and walk to the lectern. Like Judge Elder, he would tower over Shadrach Johnson. But Quentin Avery will never walk again, and he must do what he can with what he has.
Chapter 69
“Many lawyers and members of the media refer to me as Preacher Avery,” Quentin begins, speaking clearly and calmly from his wheelchair near the lectern. “They do this because I supposedly have a flair for emotional argument, and because I often quote scripture during my discourse. But today I will not preach to you. I never invoke the Good Book lightly, and today I have no need of it.
“Nor do we have need of the Unwritten Law, which Mr. Johnson just made quite a thing of, as I’m sure you noted. Today I’m telling you to forget the Unwritten Law. Because the law on the books is quite sufficient to dispose of the matter before you, a grave matter that was rushed to prosecution, and for all the wrong reasons. Why is the written law sufficient today? Because the law in a murder trial comes down to one thing—the presumption of innocence. In this case, the State—in the person of Shadrach Johnson—had the insurmountable burden of proving beyond any reasonable doubt that Dr. Tom Cage murdered Viola Turner, a woman he loved and respected for decades.
“And the question for you today is not whether a reasonable person might have a solid basis to doubt the State’s case. The question is whether any reasonable person could stretch his imagination to believe that the State has done anything more than accuse Dr. Cage of murder.”