The Last Mile (Amos Decker 2)

CHAPTER

38

ALL RISE,” SAID the burly bailiff.

All the persons in the courtroom rose, including the only one wearing shackles.

Judge Matthews, a wizened, balding man with a lumpy Adam’s apple, appeared through a doorway behind the bench, ascended the stairs, and sat down in his chair.

“Be seated,” commanded the bailiff, and everyone returned to their respective chairs.

Mary Oliver sat next to the shackled Mars. Decker, dressed in the suit he had bought while shopping with Jamison, sat on the other side of him.

The state prosecutor held forth at the other counsel table. He was in his midfifties, with a patch of soft white hair that didn’t come close to covering his pink scalp. His shirt collar was stiff from being overstarched, and this attribute neatly matched the man’s demeanor. He had a file in front of him labeled Mars, Melvin. He was silently moving his lips, as though rehearsing what he was about to say.

In the second row of the courtroom sat Davenport and Jamison. There was a goodly number of reporters present because word had gotten round that Mars had been arrested. There were also a few dozen gawking local citizens to round out the audience.

The judge eyed both counsel tables and their respective occupants, cleared his throat, and said, “The def

endant filed the motion, so let’s hear from him first.”

Oliver rose and straightened the jacket of her two-piece suit and adjusted her shirt cuffs.

“Your Honor, the state’s actions in this matter can be summed up as follows: It wrongly convicted my client, Mr. Mars, locked him up for over twenty years and very nearly executed him until it saw the error of its ways when presented with evidence of his innocence. It then granted him his liberty and with it a full pardon, and also ordered that he be paid the maximum compensation for his erroneous incarceration, not that twenty-five thousand dollars can make up for over two decades in prison.” She took a breath and seemed to swell with righteous indignation. “And now, shortly after granting him his freedom, it has unilaterally revoked his pardon and his liberty, placed him under arrest, and he now sits shackled before us. All of this was accomplished without benefit of a trial, or representation by counsel, thus denying him due process. That is why I filed the habeas corpus petition, because it is clear beyond doubt that the state is illegally detaining my client. I therefore ask that he be released forthwith, and that both the terms of his pardon and compensation be fully honored and enforced by this court.”

Oliver put a hand on Mars’s shoulder and added, “Anything less would be a travesty of justice and establish an unsustainable and dangerous precedent should the state be allowed to unilaterally renege on its agreement with my client, since we may assume that it will try to do so with other defendants in the future.”

“Understood,” said Judge Matthews. He turned to the state’s prosecutor. “Mr. Jenkins, counsel has made some excellent points. I don’t like the idea of the state going back on its word. It would wreak havoc with the system if defense counsel could not rely on agreements provided to them by your office.”

Jenkins rose, buttoned his jacket, smoothed down an errant strand of hair, glanced disapprovingly at Mars and Oliver, and then turned his attention fully to the judge.

“Your Honor,” he drawled. “The action which the state took was the only one, in good conscience, that it could take. While I’m the first to admit that the situation here is a little unusual—”

“That’s an understatement,” interjected Judge Matthews.

“Be that as it may, there was only one reason that Mr. Mars was released from prison.” Here he paused and held up a single finger for emphasis. “That was because another man, Charles Montgomery, now dead, executed by the state of Alabama for assorted heinous crimes, confessed to the murders for which Mr. Mars was previously convicted. After due investigation, it appeared that Mr. Montgomery did indeed have information and knowledge of the crimes which only the true perpetrator would have possessed. Now, due in large measure to the work performed by the FBI, it appears clear that Mr. Montgomery, and his wife, who, significantly enough, was likely murdered to cover up what went on, were paid a great sum of money to make that confession. Thus it is almost a certainty that Mr. Montgomery had no more to do with the murders of Roy and Lucinda Mars than you or I, Your Honor. Thus the state’s position is that the original conviction of Mr. Mars was right and just, and his incarceration at this time is warranted and legally proper.”

Jenkins glanced once more at Mars with an expression of cold contempt. “And let me add that the state of Texas will vigorously explore whether Mr. Mars was in any way connected to what amounts to a bald-faced attempt to deceive the criminal justice system of Texas, as he stood to benefit the most from this so-called confession by Mr. Montgomery.”

Oliver jumped to her feet. “There is not a shred of evidence that my client was in any way involved with this, Your Honor.”

Jenkins bristled. “Well, the fact that this now discredited confession came at the eleventh hour prior to the defendant’s scheduled execution seems an awfully large, and well-timed, coincidence.”

Oliver gave him an incredulous look and said in a tone dripping with sarcasm, “Yes, I’m sure that Mr. Mars waited until minutes before they were to put him to death before arranging from death row for this miracle confession to come along in the nick of time and save him.”

“There is no need to take that unprofessional tone,” snapped Jenkins.

“Regardless,” said Oliver, addressing the judge, “the state had ample time to investigate the veracity of Mr. Montgomery’s claims. It did so with the result that a full pardon was issued to my client. If the state is now allowed to go back on this agreement, the sanctity of the pardon will have been destroyed and no person may rely in the future on the state doing so without fear that it will once again renege.”

Jenkins said, “But the state clearly has a vested interest in seeing that convicted murderers are not set loose upon the public.”

Judge Matthews interjected, “Well, it appears to me that the state got itself into this mess, Mr. Jenkins. And if it can unilaterally reject its own agreements, then Ms. Oliver is right in saying that makes the entire pardoning system untenable.”

Jenkins spread his hands. “All we desire, Your Honor, is the ability to more fully investigate the matter. And during that time the defendant’s incarceration is duly warranted. The pros certainly outweigh the cons. If he is innocent then no harm will have been done. And if he is guilty, which we believe that he is, he will not have the opportunity to flee. He has no ties to the community, and we consider him a likely flight risk.”

Oliver retorted, “He has no passport, no valid ID of any kind, and, thanks to the state of Texas, no job or money. I hardly consider him a flight risk.”

“And the Mexican border is only a hop, skip, and a jump away,” countered Jenkins. “And while it is porous for those seeking to enter this country, it is equally porous for those seeking to do the opposite.”

Judge Matthews looked uncertain as he stared down at them. He glanced at Oliver. “Well, I can’t say I totally agree with Mr. Jenkins’s position, but it seems to me that there’s no harm in allowing the state to retain custody of Mr. Mars while the investigation is ongoing.”

At that moment Decker stood and all eyes in the courtroom turned to his towering presence. Decker felt the mingled gazes, and his gut was lurching and his nerves were fraying, because he just didn’t like interacting with other people.

And he certainly didn’t like having to be less than completely honest with a judge. But this was the plan he had come up with, and he had no choice but to follow it through.

“With your permission, Your Honor, may I speak?” he asked.

“And you are?” said Judge Matthews expectantly.

Decker rubbed a bead of sweat off his face. He could feel the wetness under his armpits. He suddenly felt nauseous. He briefly wondered if he might faint right here in court. In a slightly tremulous voice he said, “Amos Decker. I’m here representing the FBI.”

Jenkins quickly said, “I don’t see that the FBI has any standing to be involved in a case that is completely under the jurisdiction of the state of Texas.”

Decker kept his gaze on the judge. “The FBI has become involved in this case, Your Honor. Indeed, as counsel has already pointed out, it was our efforts that led to the doubts being cast on Mr. Montgomery’s confession.”

“But—” began Jenkins. However, Judge Matthews held up his hand.

“That’s a valid point. Let Agent Decker finish what he was saying.”

For the first time in his life Decker was suddenly seeing everything in the most vivid shade of blue even though no one in the room had died. He closed his eyes.

“Agent Decker?” prompted Judge Matthews as Jenkins snorted and looked derisively at Decker.

Do it, Decker. Right now. Fill the A-gap. Make the tackle. Now.

Decker opened his eyes. In a firm, confident voice he said, “The FBI believes that this case is far more complicated than it first appeared. We also believe that Mr. Mars is innocent.”

“Based on what?” interrupted Jenkins testily.

“Based on discoveries made in our ongoing investigation. We believe that this case may in

volve forces that operate across state lines, bringing it solidly into the purview of the Bureau.”

Judge Matthews said, “And is the court to be provided the results of your discoveries, Agent Decker?”

“My superior, Special Agent Ross Bogart, heads up a special