Free Cry Me A River by Ernest Hill

smiled.
    Tyrone returned her smile. He watched her move behind the desk and open the lid of the box.
    “This is everything we have on your son’s case,” she said. “The D.A. keeps the real evidence. All we have are odds and ends.”
    She reached into the box and removed a thick document, and Tyrone moved closer to the desk.
    “These are the trial transcripts.” She held the documents up, and when she was satisfied that Tyrone had seen them, she put them back into the box and removed a second item.
    “These are sworn depositions.”
    Tyrone nodded, and she put them back, then lowered her head and continued thumbing through the box; only now she did not remove anything, but simply verbalized what she saw.
    “We also have witness lists, interviews, photographs, etcetera.”
    “Seems like a lot to me,” Tyrone said.
    “Not really,” she said. “Besides, most of it is pretty incriminating. We just couldn’t find, or offer, much in the form of exculpatory evidence.”
    “You think he’s guilty, don’t you?”
    “I didn’t say that,” she said quickly. But he could tell that his question had made her uncomfortable.
    “Well, what are you saying?”
    She sat down and folded her arms on the desk before her.
    “The prosecution put on a very strong case. They didn’t make any mistakes. And we weren’t able to find any cracks. It’s as simple as that.”
    “Did you look?” Tyrone asked.
    “Of course,” she said, insulted.
    “Where?” he wanted to know.
    “Everywhere,” she said adamantly.
    “Like,” he pressed.
    “Mr. Stokes, why are you attacking me?”
    “Why are you trying to make me believe that this is hopeless?”
    “I’m not,” she said. “I welcome your help. I really do. I just want you to understand what you are up against.”
    “I know what I’m up against,” he snapped. “I’m not stupid.”
    “Sir, I didn’t say that you were.”
    He gaped at her with a long, angry stare.
    “Listen,” she said. “There are a lot of documents here. But most of them are worthless. The most damaging piece of evidence against your son was the testimony of the two eye witnesses. They both swore that they saw the victim get into your son’s truck.”
    “They lied,” Tyrone said.
    “Maybe,” she replied. “But they were extremely credible.”
    “So, you believe them?”
    “Sir, what I believe doesn’t matter,” she said. “The jury believed them, and there is nothing in that box, or anywhere else that we’ve searched, that can challenge their testimony.”
    “They still live here?”
    “Yes, sir, but they won’t talk to you,” she said. “We’ve tried on any number of occasions. They’re very hostile.”
    “I’ll get them to talk.” Tyrone was emphatic. “You can bet on that.”
    “Mr. Stokes, even if you did, it probably wouldn’t matter.”
    “Why not?”
    “They testified under oath.”
    “What difference does that make?”
    “All the difference in the world.”
    “I don’t understand,” he said.
    “The courts take testimony given under oath very seriously,” she explained. “So, unless we could offer proof that the witnesses lied or proof that they were coerced into making a false statement, their recantation wouldmost likely be rejected. The prosecution would simply argue that they were having difficulty coping with the reality that their testimony had resulted in a person being sentenced to die. Their saying that they lied simply would not be enough.”
    “Their word can kill him,” Tyrone said. “But it can’t save him.”
    “Exactly,” she said. “The verdict has been upheld under appeal. So unless the governor intervenes, or unless we find conclusive evidence of your son’s innocence, he will be executed.”
    There was silence.
    “And I’m pretty sure that the evidence we need is not in that box,” she added.
    “No reasonable doubt here,” Tyrone said, dejected.
    “Mr. Stokes, we’ve moved beyond the need for reasonable doubt,” she said.