JONATHAN HITCHCOCK WAS THE FIRST WITNESS. The courtroom was quiet as he made his way to the stand, the knock of his cane on the floor resonated through the room. He walked slowly. Outside, the cicadas buzzed. The windows were propped open, men were still perched in trees, but everyone was quiet.

Hitchcock placed his hand on the Bible to take the oath, standing tall and erect, like a man who had never known fear. He settled himself calmly in the witness chair, adjusting his suit, gazing first at the men on the jury, then at the district attorney. He did not look at Karak at all.

The district attorney picked up a file of papers on his desk and strode toward the witness stand, situated himself at an angle to the jury, and began his questioning. Hitchcock gave his name, his age, his education, his position with Consolidated Fruit. “I have loved the Valley since moving here two years ago from Atlanta,” he said. “It is a place for real men, for those not scared to work hard.”

Ram saw several jurors nod their heads. He felt a chill in his gut. Could it be so easy for Hitchcock to win them over?

“Can you tell us what happened that day, Mr. Hitchcock?” the district attorney asked.

Hitchcock licked his lips. “Clive Edgar and I were working together to get the lettuce to market soon. We had to get it picked, packed up, and shipped out. Singh knew we’d be coming to take charge of the harvest that day. He knew we had hired pickers and packers, and that we would be providing crates for the job. But he was in the packing shed when we arrived, chopping wood to assemble crates for the lettuce.” Hitchcock spoke calmly, both his hands resting on the handle of his cane. “He began to abuse us as soon as we entered the packing shed.”

“You say he began to abuse you as soon as you entered. Did you or Mr. Edgar do anything to provoke him, Mr. Hitchcock?”

“Absolutely nothing.”

“You are sure?”

“Absolutely sure.”

“Were there any other people in the packing shed with you and Mr. Edgar and the defendant during this conversation?”

“No. I did not see any others,” Hitchcock said. “We were alone.”

“So as far as you know, there were no other witnesses to what happened in the shed before the killing.”

“None.”

The district attorney paused, as if to make sure the jury understood this point. He walked to the table, put down his file, picked up another, and began to question Hitchcock again.

“Was Mr. Edgar carrying a gun that day, Mr. Hitchcock?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

Ram saw Karak straighten in his chair.

“But you don’t know?”