"We'll go to the prosecutor in Texas tomorrow, show him Emily McDaniels's statement, and hand him a writ of habeas corpus, which we will then convince him to take before a trial judge without delay. With luck, the judge will agree to sign it, then it will go to the state capital in Austin to be signed by an Appeals Court judge, and Mr. Benedict should then be released on bail."
"Bail," Matt repeated in a low, scathing voice, "for what?"
Seiling flinched at the tone of voice that had reportedly reduced Farrell's business adversaries to a state of sweating incoherence. "Whether he was innocent or not, when he escaped from prison, he broke Texas escape laws. Technically, he committed an offense against society. Unless we're very lucky and very persuasive, the county prosecutor in Amarillo can, and probably will, want to take some time to decide what to do about that problem. We'll point out that the well-publicized physical beating he took in Mexico City was more than punishment for that. Depending upon the prosecutor's mood, he can either agree and recommend the trial judge forego bail and dismiss the whole thing, or else he can dig in his heels."
"Then put him in a good mood or bring a shovel," Matt warned implacably.
"Right," Seiling said.
"If we don't get instant cooperation from the authorities, I want the media notified of everything. They'll get action."
"I agree. My partners and I are leaving for Amarillo tomorrow morning."
"Tonight, not tomorrow," Matt said. "I'll meet you there." He hung up before Seiling could list his objections and pressed the button on his intercom. "Eleanor," he said to his secretary, "cancel all my appointments for tomorrow and the next day."
In Los Angeles, the lawyer dropped the phone in the cradle. Raising his brows, he told the other two men, "If you've ever wondered what Benedict and Farrell have in common, I just found it out—they are two cold customers."
"But they pay big retainers," one of the attorneys joked.
Seiling nodded, turning brisk. "Let's start earning ours, gentlemen," he said and pressed the button for line three. "Mr. Wesley," he said, modulating his voice so that it was both firm and pleasant. "I realize your predecessor, Alton Peterson, prosecuted the Zachary Benedict case five years ago, and I understand none of this is your fault, however, there seems to have been a vast miscarriage of justice. I need your help to rectify it as quickly as possible. In return, I will be certain the media understands you yourself acted swiftly to right a wrong. Regardless of what you do, Zack Benedict is going to come out of this as a martyr and hero. The media's going to want someone's blood for the injustice done to him, and I'd hate to see it be your blood." He paused, listening. "What the hell am I talking about? Why don't we discuss that over dinner at seven o'clock tonight?"
Chapter 67
Katherine slammed on her brakes and brought her car to a screeching stop in front of Julie's house, cursing when she saw a bicycle in the front yard, which meant Julie was tutoring. Leaving her purse in the car, she ran up the sidewalk, opened the front door without knocking, and walked into the dining room where Julie was seated at the table with three little boys. "Julie, I have to talk to you," she said breathlessly, "in the living room."
Laying her reading primer aside, Julie smiled at her students and said, "Willie, keep reading aloud. I'll be right back." Sensing that something exciting was going on, Willie Jenkins read until she was out of hearing, then he grinned at his two companions. "Something's up," he told them lowering his gravelly voice to a whisper, leaning sideways in his chair for a better view of the living room.
Johnny Everett looked over his shoulder as he turned his wheelchair sideways, peering in the same direction, Tim Wimple, whose right leg had been amputated at the knee, swiveled his own wheelchair into place and nodded. "Somethin' big, I'll bet."
Appointing himself as moderator and spy, Willie tiptoed to the doorway. "Miss Cahill's turning on the television set…" he told them over his shoulder, then he turned back to the living room.
"Katherine?" Julie said shakily, sensing that her friend's tense face and the way she was frantically searching for a particular television channel both had something to do with Zack. "Don't do this to me! Tell me what's happened! It's Zack, isn't it? Is it bad?"
Shaking her head, Katherine stepped back from the set. "It's all over the newscasts. They're interrupting the regular programs to announce it. NBC said they'd have a videotape of it to show at four-thirty." She glanced at her watch. "That's right now."
"What is it!" Julie burst out.
"It's good news," Katherine said with an anguished laugh. "Or it's bad, depending on how you take it. Julie, he's—"
She broke off and pointed to the set as the announcer said they were interrupting their regularly scheduled programming for a special news bulletin. Tom Brokaw's face appeared on the screen. "Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen," he said. "One hour ago, in Amarillo, Texas, Zachary Benedict was released from Amarillo State Penitentiary, where he was serving a forty-five-year sentence for the murder of his wife, actress Rachel Evans. Benedict's lawyers obtained his release as a result of a formal statement provided by Emily McDaniels, who costarred with Benedict, Evans, and Tony Austin in Destiny."
Without realizing it, Julie reached for Katherine's hand, squeezing it in a death grip as Brokaw continued, "NBC has learned that Miss McDaniels's statement apparently contained sworn testimony that two days ago, her father, George McDaniels, confessed to her that he had murdered Rachel Evans and actor Tony Austin, who was found dead in his Los Angeles home last month."
A moan of pleasure, of torment, and of crushing guilt, tore from Julie's chest. She grabbed at the back of a chair with both hands to hold her upright as the screen switched to the gates of Amarillo State Penitentiary and she saw Zack walking out, clad in a dark suit and tie, escorted through the rain to a waiting limousine, while Brokaw said, "Benedict left prison a free man, accompanied by his California attorneys. Waiting for him in the limousine was his long-time friend, industrialist Matthew Farrell, whose unswerving faith in Benedict's innocence has been no secret from the media or the authorities. Also standing on the sidelines was a young woman with a familiar face, though her famous dimples weren't in evidence at this moment. From the looks of this videotape, it's clear that she didn't expect to be seen but had come to assure herself of Benedict's safe release." Julie watched as Matt walked swiftly toward the limo then stopped, looking off to his left, where Emily McDaniels was standing beneath an umbrella with her husband, her face a mask of sorrow. For a moment Zack stood there, looking at her, then he slowly walked over to her.
"Bail," Matt repeated in a low, scathing voice, "for what?"
Seiling flinched at the tone of voice that had reportedly reduced Farrell's business adversaries to a state of sweating incoherence. "Whether he was innocent or not, when he escaped from prison, he broke Texas escape laws. Technically, he committed an offense against society. Unless we're very lucky and very persuasive, the county prosecutor in Amarillo can, and probably will, want to take some time to decide what to do about that problem. We'll point out that the well-publicized physical beating he took in Mexico City was more than punishment for that. Depending upon the prosecutor's mood, he can either agree and recommend the trial judge forego bail and dismiss the whole thing, or else he can dig in his heels."
"Then put him in a good mood or bring a shovel," Matt warned implacably.
"Right," Seiling said.
"If we don't get instant cooperation from the authorities, I want the media notified of everything. They'll get action."
"I agree. My partners and I are leaving for Amarillo tomorrow morning."
"Tonight, not tomorrow," Matt said. "I'll meet you there." He hung up before Seiling could list his objections and pressed the button on his intercom. "Eleanor," he said to his secretary, "cancel all my appointments for tomorrow and the next day."
In Los Angeles, the lawyer dropped the phone in the cradle. Raising his brows, he told the other two men, "If you've ever wondered what Benedict and Farrell have in common, I just found it out—they are two cold customers."
"But they pay big retainers," one of the attorneys joked.
Seiling nodded, turning brisk. "Let's start earning ours, gentlemen," he said and pressed the button for line three. "Mr. Wesley," he said, modulating his voice so that it was both firm and pleasant. "I realize your predecessor, Alton Peterson, prosecuted the Zachary Benedict case five years ago, and I understand none of this is your fault, however, there seems to have been a vast miscarriage of justice. I need your help to rectify it as quickly as possible. In return, I will be certain the media understands you yourself acted swiftly to right a wrong. Regardless of what you do, Zack Benedict is going to come out of this as a martyr and hero. The media's going to want someone's blood for the injustice done to him, and I'd hate to see it be your blood." He paused, listening. "What the hell am I talking about? Why don't we discuss that over dinner at seven o'clock tonight?"
Chapter 67
Katherine slammed on her brakes and brought her car to a screeching stop in front of Julie's house, cursing when she saw a bicycle in the front yard, which meant Julie was tutoring. Leaving her purse in the car, she ran up the sidewalk, opened the front door without knocking, and walked into the dining room where Julie was seated at the table with three little boys. "Julie, I have to talk to you," she said breathlessly, "in the living room."
Laying her reading primer aside, Julie smiled at her students and said, "Willie, keep reading aloud. I'll be right back." Sensing that something exciting was going on, Willie Jenkins read until she was out of hearing, then he grinned at his two companions. "Something's up," he told them lowering his gravelly voice to a whisper, leaning sideways in his chair for a better view of the living room.
Johnny Everett looked over his shoulder as he turned his wheelchair sideways, peering in the same direction, Tim Wimple, whose right leg had been amputated at the knee, swiveled his own wheelchair into place and nodded. "Somethin' big, I'll bet."
Appointing himself as moderator and spy, Willie tiptoed to the doorway. "Miss Cahill's turning on the television set…" he told them over his shoulder, then he turned back to the living room.
"Katherine?" Julie said shakily, sensing that her friend's tense face and the way she was frantically searching for a particular television channel both had something to do with Zack. "Don't do this to me! Tell me what's happened! It's Zack, isn't it? Is it bad?"
Shaking her head, Katherine stepped back from the set. "It's all over the newscasts. They're interrupting the regular programs to announce it. NBC said they'd have a videotape of it to show at four-thirty." She glanced at her watch. "That's right now."
"What is it!" Julie burst out.
"It's good news," Katherine said with an anguished laugh. "Or it's bad, depending on how you take it. Julie, he's—"
She broke off and pointed to the set as the announcer said they were interrupting their regularly scheduled programming for a special news bulletin. Tom Brokaw's face appeared on the screen. "Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen," he said. "One hour ago, in Amarillo, Texas, Zachary Benedict was released from Amarillo State Penitentiary, where he was serving a forty-five-year sentence for the murder of his wife, actress Rachel Evans. Benedict's lawyers obtained his release as a result of a formal statement provided by Emily McDaniels, who costarred with Benedict, Evans, and Tony Austin in Destiny."
Without realizing it, Julie reached for Katherine's hand, squeezing it in a death grip as Brokaw continued, "NBC has learned that Miss McDaniels's statement apparently contained sworn testimony that two days ago, her father, George McDaniels, confessed to her that he had murdered Rachel Evans and actor Tony Austin, who was found dead in his Los Angeles home last month."
A moan of pleasure, of torment, and of crushing guilt, tore from Julie's chest. She grabbed at the back of a chair with both hands to hold her upright as the screen switched to the gates of Amarillo State Penitentiary and she saw Zack walking out, clad in a dark suit and tie, escorted through the rain to a waiting limousine, while Brokaw said, "Benedict left prison a free man, accompanied by his California attorneys. Waiting for him in the limousine was his long-time friend, industrialist Matthew Farrell, whose unswerving faith in Benedict's innocence has been no secret from the media or the authorities. Also standing on the sidelines was a young woman with a familiar face, though her famous dimples weren't in evidence at this moment. From the looks of this videotape, it's clear that she didn't expect to be seen but had come to assure herself of Benedict's safe release." Julie watched as Matt walked swiftly toward the limo then stopped, looking off to his left, where Emily McDaniels was standing beneath an umbrella with her husband, her face a mask of sorrow. For a moment Zack stood there, looking at her, then he slowly walked over to her.
