Free Burners by J.A. Konrath, Henry Perez

could very well have been in there?”
    “The bag appeared to be full, but—”
    “And you never saw Beniquez put anything else in the duffle bag.”
    “That’s correct. But I already stated—”
    “And you stated that there was something in the duffle bag that could have been gas cans.”
    “I stated,” I said, louder than before, “that the bag appeared to be full. I didn’t say—”
    “Lieutenant Daniels, you were here earlier when it was shown that the cans do indeed fit inside the duffle bag.”
    I blew out a breath. “Yes.”
    “And they fit quite easily, yes?”
    “They fit, yes.”
    “And that is the duffle bag you saw, yes?”
    “Yes.”
    “Is it within the realm of possibility that the cans were in there both times when you saw the defendant?”
    Again I waited for the speculation objection, but it didn’t come. Was the defense attorney asleep? I looked at Malvo, and the judge certainly appeared to be.
    “Yes,” I reluctantly said.
    “No further questions,” Lipscomb said, turned her back to me and returned to her seat behind the prosecution table.
    I understood what Lipscomb was doing with me. She wanted the jury to believe the cans were in the bag. But I never saw the cans in the bag, and didn’t like words being put in my mouth. Even if Tony was guilty, and the cans were in the bag, I hadn’t seen them and would never testify that I had. But I wasn’t sure I’d conveyed that message.
    I still had no idea if Tony Beniquez did it or didn’t do it. But so far he was getting, in my learned opinion, and inadequate defense. Hopefully his team would step it up during the cross-examinations.
    Milledge stood up. “No questions, your Honor.”
    “You’re excused, Lieutenant Daniels,” Malvo said.
    As I walked down from the stand, I managed to meet eyes with Alex Chapa. He had a look of surprise on his face, and I saw him mouth the words
what the hell
.
    No kidding. A few minutes ago, I was eager to get out of the courtroom. Not to run home—I didn’t take kindly to threats. But I wanted to do a bit more investigating with Phin, maybe try to track down the locksmith.
    But now I had no choice. I had to wait around to see what happened next.
    A boy’s life was at stake. And through no fault of my own, I might have just convicted him.

   

J ack shrugged when I looked at her. I was trying to process what had just happened, and wondering if they shouldn’t just cart Tony Beniquez off to prison right now—
Go straight to jail, do not pass GO, do not collect anything other than an orange jumper, an inmate number, and a life sentence.
    That’s exactly what was going to happen if the defense didn’t get up to speed in a hurry. Maybe Tony was guilty. Maybe he wasn’t. Didn’t matter either way if his side wasn’t ready to put up a fight.
    I was also trying to figure out what it was that Jack had wanted to say on the stand, and why she was still sitting, fuming, in the back of the courtroom when she could have left. I wasn’t the only one. The guy with the enormous ears—again, I assumed it was half of a pair, but as a reporter I could not verify that—was weirdly fixated on Jack. He’d been staring at her from the moment she was called to the stand and was still glaring at her now, while the attorneys for both sides held a whispered discussion with Judge Malvo.
    As soon as the party broke up, Lipscomb called Officer Nicholas James to the stand. James looked like a thug in the sort of expensive suit that would wrinkle the instant I pulled it off the rack. Check that—no way the suit he was wearing had ever seen a rack.
    He was thick all over, not fat, solid. Former military? Or maybe military wannabe. I’d met a few of those during my ill-fated trek with The Wisconsin Free Rangers. But those guys were comical, in a way. This guy I would not turn my back on.
    James unbuttoned his suit and slid into the witness chair in one slick movement. He’d done this before. And enjoyed