Free Unlucky in Law by Perri O'Shaughnessy Page A

right, was I not, Miss Reilly?”
    “I'm not sure,” Nina said, voice hushed, courage uneven. “Klaus, please. Don't do that again. He wasn't that bad, and we don't want Salas to get—”
    “Oh, I promised to be a good little boy from now on,” Klaus whispered, “and I intend to keep my word. Salas doesn't give second chances.” He chuckled. “Look at Sandoval, so upset to be tripped in the middle of his showy dance number.”
    “The objection is denied,” Salas said, face impassive. “Counsel, you may continue.”
    “Thank you,” Jaime said. Pointedly turning his back to Klaus, he approached the jurors again. Taking a deep breath, he glanced over some notes in his hand and continued. Unfortunately, when Klaus broke the spell for him, he had broken it for everyone. The emotionally laden graveyard burial had yielded to a procedural mood.
    “Officer Jay Millman of the Monterey Police Department will testify regarding a traffic stop he made near that very same cemetery at about two o'clock on Sunday morning, the night of April twelfth into the thirteenth. He will identify for you the defendant over there, Stefan Wyatt, as the person driving the car in question. He will indicate to you what he found in plain view in that vehicle that led to the arrest of Stefan Wyatt for the murder of Christina Zhukovsky.”
    Interesting style, Nina thought, momentarily diverted from the notes she was making for her own opening. Jaime was creating suspense. Those jurors were in for a nasty shock when they heard just what it was Stefan had in that duffel bag. She had seen Jaime in action before, and she saw the amount of care that had gone into this argument. She also understood that he was pushing the limits of what he could do in his opening statement.
    She would do the same, once she had an opening statement.
    Another pause, but one that held no nervousness. Klaus hadn't permanently dented Jaime's self-possession. Pacing, arms behind his back, Jaime's lips whitened with the seriousness of his purpose.
    “What Officer Millman saw falling out of a duffel bag in the back seat of the car driven by Stefan Wyatt, ladies and gentlemen, were bones, human bones. Those bones, we will show, were all that was left of a man named Constantin Zhukovsky after twenty-five years of peaceful rest.”
    Well, Nina thought, Klaus was right. Jaime was getting more fanciful than he should, but she understood the impulse. He wanted to give the jurors a framework for thinking his way, and he also couldn't resist exploiting the more bizarre facts of the case.
    She made a note to herself. She came after he did, and that position held inherent strength. She needed to use it to mitigate his every harm.
    “We will prove that the defendant declined to make any statement about how he could legitimately be in possession of human remains. A thorough search of nearby cemeteries undertaken by the Monterey Police Department resulted in the discovery of the disturbed grave of Mr. Zhukovsky, who had died in 1978, with the surface sloppily restored but not intact.” Jaime wet his lips, giving everyone a chance to hearken back to Stefan's callousness.
    “When that grave was reopened, Christina Zhukovsky's body was discovered on top of Mr. Zhukovsky's casket, which had been tampered with. We will present testimony from our forensics investigator, Detective Kelsey Banta, showing that Christina's apartment was then searched and blood samples collected from pieces of glass found on the kitchen floor. We will show that subsequent DNA testing matched those blood samples with the blood of the defendant, Stefan Wyatt.” A few of the jurors turned to eyeball Stefan, who yanked at his necktie until Nina quietly suggested he stop.
    “Detective Banta will testify as to another significant fact. When Mr. Wyatt was searched in the early morning hours of Sunday, April thirteenth, his pocket contained a medal. A small Russian military medal,” Jaime went on, showing them a size