The People vs. Alex Cross (Alex Cross 25)

“It means I’ve studied him at length,” Nixon said, looking earnestly in my direction. “It means I’ve researched every shooting Dr. Cross has ever been involved in.”

“Wait,” the prosecutor said. “Dr. Cross has been involved in shootings other than the three in question today?”

Anita sprang to her feet. “Objection! Relevance?”

Wills said, “We’re trying to give the jury the context in which these three shootings took place.”

“Overruled,” Larch said.

“Judge!”

“Overruled!”

Wills said, “Was Alex Cross involved in other shootings before the three in question?”

“Yes,” Nixon said.

“How many times does the average police officer in America discharge his weapon in the course of a career?”

“Zero,” Nixon said. “The vast majority of police officers never fire their weapon in the line of duty.”

“Zero,” Wills said. “And how many times has Dr. Cross discharged a weapon in the course of his careers at the FBI and DC Metro Police?”

The witness shifted in his chair, said, “I don’t have all the records. Some are sealed. But just from the public documents I’ve looked at, Alex Cross has fired his weapon at least thirty-one times.”

I blinked and felt my stomach go sour. There was a louder reaction in the audience, which caused Judge Larch to pound her gavel. “Order.”

By their expressions, jurors five and eleven had turned against me again. And no wonder. I was as shocked as they were to hear the number.

Thirty-one times. Is that true? And have I shot more than that? He said at least, didn’t he?

Wills said, “Can you break down the shots for us in a meaningful way?”

Nixon nodded. “The records I’ve seen indicate that Dr. Cross missed fourteen times and wounded someone eight times.”

“And the other nine times Dr. Cross pulled his trigger in the line of duty?”

“His shots were perfect,” Nixon said. “All of his victims died.”

CHAPTER

48

BY THE END of the first day of the trial, I felt like that side of beef Rocky Balboa used as a punching bag.

For three solid hours, Wills and Nixon had kept up a relentless barrage of facts about the nine deadly shooting incidents that they said collectively cast me as a cop who believed he was above the law.

“They’ve almost got me believing it,” I said after court was adjourned for the evening. We’d gone to a conference room to reassess before heading home.

Anita said, “You must absolutely not believe it.”

Naomi nodded. “She’s right. Your belief in your innocence has to shine through your body language. The jury will pick up on the slightest doubt you feel.”

My lead attorney put her hand on my forearm. “This is classic Nathan Wills, from what I understand, and we still have more than a few cards up our sleeves. Go home, Alex. Be with your family. Don’t watch the news. We’ll see you in the morning.”

I nodded. “Sampson’s picking me up in the garage.”

“Perfect,” Naomi said. “And have you thought about that interview request from Gayle King?”