Angel of the Dark

The heavyset black man in his midfifties nodded gravely.

“We have, Your Honor.”

“And is that verdict unanimous?”

“It is.”

OUTSIDE, THE CROWD GAZED UP AT the giant plasma screens in rapt silence. One showed the foreman standing, with the seated members of the jury behind him. All looked somber, as befitted the terrible crimes they’d been called upon to judge.

The other showed the two defendants. Standing only a few feet apart in the prisoners’ box, they looked as detached from each other as two people could possibly be. It was impossible to imagine that they had known each other since childhood, still less that they had worked together as a deadly team for a dozen years and been married for decades.

“Have you reached your verdict?”

“We have, Your Honor.”

DANNY MCGUIRE PANTED AS HE RAN down the corridor, pushing Matt Daley’s heavy wheelchair in front of him. The double doors of room 306 loomed in front of them like heaven’s gates.

Or hell’s.

“I’m sorry, sir,” the LAPD guard began. “Court is in session. Judge Muñoz…” He trailed off when he saw Danny’s Interpol ID.

“You can go in, sir.” The guard opened the doors respectfully. “But I can’t allow your friend here.”

Ignoring him, Danny pushed Matt’s chair into the court. The room was so silent, and the disturbance so unexpected, that for a moment hundreds of heads swiveled in their direction. But only one gaze caught Matt Daley’s eye. For the first time since the trial began, she was looking at him. Directly at him.

He mouthed to her: “Lisa.”

She smiled.

Judge Muñoz was speaking. “On the charge murder in the first degree, relating to Andrew Jakes, how do you find the first defendant, Frances Mancini?”

“Guilty.”

The word reverberated round the room like a gunshot.

“And the second defendant, Sofia Basta?”

The foreman’s next breath seemed to take an hour.

“Not guilty.”

The gasps from inside the courtroom were heard around the world. Outside on Burton Way, the crowds let out a scream so loud it was faintly audible even through the thick walls of the courthouse. Once the cameramen realized what had happened, they zoomed in on Sofia’s face. But whatever reaction she may have had in the split second after the foreman spoke had been erased from her face now, replaced by her usual serene blankness. Matt Daley closed his eyes, falling back into his chair as if he’d been punched in the gut. Even Judge Muñoz, the famous Judge Dread himself, required a moment’s pause to regain his composure.

The foreman went on. “In the case of Andrew Jakes, however, we find the second defendant, Sofia Basta, guilty of voluntary manslaughter, due to diminished responsibility.”

Judge Muñoz cleared his throat. “In the case of Sir Piers Henley…”

Again, the verdict came back, like knife wounds to the judge’s heart.

Guilty.

Not guilty.

Diminishe

d responsibility.

It was the same for the other two victims. Only on the charge of the attempted homicide of David Ishag were both defendants condemned.