Free Mortal Lock by Andrew Vachss Page B

a minute that he wasn’t going to. He and the judge just kind of watched each other.
    Then the trial started.
    The first few witnesses were all government. The fire department guy testified about “the presence of an accelerant” being the tip-off that this was arson, not some accidental fire. Veil got up slowly, started to walk over to the witness box, then stopped. His voice was low, but it carried right through the courtroom.
    “Officer, you have any experience with alcoholics?”
    “Objection!” the DA shouted.
    “Sustained,” the judge said, not even looking at Veil.
    “Officer,” Veil went on like nothing had happened, “you have any experience with dope fiends?”
    “Objection!” the DA was on his feet, red-faced.
    “Counsel, you are to desist from this line of questioning,” the judge said. “The witness is a fireman, not a psychologist.”
    “Oh, excuse me, Your Honor,” Veil said sweetly. “I mis-phrased my inquiry. Let me try again: Officer,” he said, turning his attention back to the witness, “by ‘accelerant,’ you mean something like gasoline or kerosene, isn’t that correct?”
    “Yes,” the witness said, cautious in spite of Veil’s mild tone.
    “Hmmm,” Veil said. “Be pretty stupid to keep a can of gasoline right in the house, wouldn’t it?”
    “Your Honor …,” the DA pleaded.
    “Well, I believe he can answer that one,” the judge said.
    “Yeah, it would,” the fire marshal said. “But some folks do keep kerosene inside. You know, for heating and all.”
    “Thank you, Officer,” Veil said, like the witness had just given him this great gift. “And it’d be even stupider to smoke cigarettes in the same house where you kept gasoline … or kerosene for that matter, wouldn’t it?”
    “Well, sure. I mean, if—”
    “Objection!” the DA yelled. “There is no evidence to show that anyone was smoking cigarettes in the house!”
    “Ah, my apologies,” Veil said, bowing slightly. “Please consider the question withdrawn. Officer: Be pretty stupid to smoke crack in a house with gasoline or kerosene in it, right?”
    “Your Honor!” the DA cut in. “This is nothing but trickery. This man is trying to tell the jury there was gasoline in the house. And this officer has clearly testified that—”
    “—that there was either gasoline or kerosene in the house at the time the fire started,” Veil interrupted.
    “Not in a damn can,” the DA said again.
    “Your Honor,” Veil said, his voice the soul of reasonableness, “the witness testified that he found a charred can of gasoline in the house. Now it was his expert opinion that someone had poured gasoline all over the floor and the walls and then dropped a match. I am merely inquiring if there couldn’t be some other way the fire had started.”
    The judge, obviously irritated, said, “Then why don’t you just ask him that?”
    “Well, Judge, I kind of was doing that. I mean, if one of the crackheads living there had maybe fallen asleep after he got high, you know, nodded out the way they do … and the crack pipe fell to the ground, and there was a can of kerosene lying around and—”
    “That is enough!” the judge cut in. “You are well aware, sir, that when the fire trucks arrived, the house was empty.”
    “But the trucks weren’t there when the fire
started
, Judge. Maybe the dope fiend felt the flames and ran for his life. I don’t know. I wasn’t there. And I thought the jury—”
    “The jury will disregard your entire line of questioning, sir. And unless you have
another
line of questioning for this witness, he is excused.”
    Veil bowed.
    4
    At the lunch break, I asked him, “What the hell are you doing? Leonard already told the police it was him who burned down the crack house.”
    “Sure. You just said the magic words:
crack house
. I want to make sure the jury hears that enough times, that’s all.”
    “You think they’re gonna let him off just because—?”
    “We’re