James Patterson - Alex Crosss Trial (The Alex Cross Series - Book 15 - 2009)

Copyright 2009 by James Patterson

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Little, Brown and Company

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First eBook Edition: August 2009

Little, Brown and Company is a division of Hachette Book Group, Inc. The Little, Brown name and logo are trademarks of Hachette Book Group, Inc.

The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

ISBN: 978-0-316-07262-5

Alex Crosss Trial

Cross Country

Double Cross

Cross

Mary, Mary

London Bridges

The Big Bad Wolf

Four Blind Mice

Violets Are Blue

Roses Are Red

Pop Goes the Weasel

Cat & Mouse

Jack & Jill

Kiss the Girls

Along Came a Spider

A complete list of books by James Patterson is in the back of this book. For previews of forthcoming books by James Patterson and more information about the author, visit www.jamespatterson.com.

For Susan, of course

BY ALEX CROSS

A few months after I hunted a vicious killer named the Tiger halfway around the world, I began to think seriously about a book I had been wanting to write for years. I even had the title for it: Trial. The previous book Id written was about the role of forensic psychology in the capture of the serial killer Gary Soneji. Trial would be very different, and in some ways even more terrifying.

Oral history is very much alive in the Cross family, and this is because of my grandmother, Regina Cross, who is known in our household and our neighborhood as Nana Mama. Nanas famous stories cover the five decades when she was a teacher in Washingtonthe difficulties she faced during those years of civil rights turmoil, but also countless tales passed on from times before she was alive.

One of these storiesand it is the one that stayed with me the mostinvolved an uncle of hers who was born and lived most of his life in the small town of Eudora, Mississippi. This man, Abraham Cross, was one of the finest baseball players of that era and once played for the Philadelphia Pythians. Abraham was grandfather to my cousin Moody, who was one of the most unforgettable and best-loved characters in our family history.

What I now feel compelled to write about took place in Mississippi during the time that Theodore Roosevelt was president, the early part of the twentieth century. I believe it is a story that helps illuminate why so many black people are angry, hurt, and lost in this country, even today. I also think it is important to keep this story alive for my family, and hopefully for yours.

The main character is a man my grandmother knew here in Washington, a smart and courageous lawyer named Ben Corbett. It is our good fortune that Corbett kept first-person journals of his incredible experiences, including a trial that took place in Eudora. A few years before he died, Mr. Corbett gave those journals to Moody. Eventually they wound up in my grandmothers hands. My suspicion is that what happened in Mississippi was too personal and painful for Corbett to turn into a book. But I have come to believe that there has never been a better time for this story to be told.

A GOOD MAN IS HARD TO FIND

LET HER HANG until shes dead!

Take her out and hang her now! Ill do it myself!

Bam! Bam! Bam!

Judge Otis L. Warren wielded his gavel with such fury I thought he might smash a hole in the top of his bench.

Quiet in the court! the judge shouted. Settle down, or by God I will hold every last one of you sons of bitches in contempt.

Bam! Bam! Bam!

It was no use. Warrens courtroom was overflowing with disgruntled white citizens who wanted nothing more than to see my client hang. Two of them on the left side began a chant that was soon taken up by others:

We dont care where. We dont care how.

We just wanna hang Gracie Johnson now!

The shouts from some among the white majority sent such a shiver of fear through the colored balcony that one woman fainted and had to be carried out.

Another bang of the gavel. Judge Warren stood and shouted, Mr. Loomis, escort all those in the colored section out of my courtroom and out of the building.

I couldnt hold my tongue another second.

Your Honor, I object! I dont see any of the colored folks being rowdy or disrespectful. The ones making the fuss are the white men in front.

Judge Warren glared over his glasses at me. His expression intimidated the room into silence.

Mr. Corbett, it is my job to decide how to keep order in my court. It is your job to counsel your clientand let me tell you, from where I sit, she needs all the help she can get.

I couldnt disagree.

What I once thought would be an easy victory in the case of District of Columbia v. Johnson was swiftly turning into a disaster for Gracie and her increasingly helpless attorney, Benjamin E. Corbett: that being myself.

Gracie Johnson was on trial for the murder of Lydia Davenport, a wealthy white woman who was active in Washington society at a level high enough to cause a nosebleed. Worse, Gracie was a black woman accused of killing her wealthy white employer.

The year was 1906. Before it was all over, I was afraid they were going to hang Gracie.

I had to be careful they didnt hang me while they were at it.

I WILL NOT TOLERATE another outburst, Judge Warren said to the spectators. He turned to look me in the eye. And I suggest that you, Mr. Corbett, select your objections with greater care.

Yes, Your Honor, I said, then immediately held my tongue in check with my teeth.

Mr. Ames, you may resume questioning the defendant.

Carter Ames, the city attorney, was a little old man about five feet tall. He strode to the witness stand as if he were every inch of six-two.

Now, Grace, lets go back to the afternoon in question, May twenty-third. In your testimonybefore the unfortunate disruption occurredisnt it true that you essentially admitted to murdering Mrs. Davenport?

Excuse me, sir, I said no such thing, Gracie shot back.

The court stenographer will please read the testimony given by Miss Johnson a few moments before the courtroom interruption.

Got it right here, Carter, the stenographer said.

Wonderful. Ames and the court stenographer were on a first-name basis. No telling which parts of Gracies testimony had been left out or improved.

The stenographer flipped back the pages in his tablet and began to read in a droning voice.

Miz Davenport was always a mean old lady. Never had a nice word for anybody. Ask me, she had it coming to her. The day before she got killed, she told me she was fixing to fire me because I was too stupid to know which side of the plate do the fish fork go on. She was a mean old witch, she was. Im telling you, she had it coming.

I jumped up from my chair.

Your Honor, obviously my client did not mean

Sit down, Mr. Corbett.

I had one more thing to sayI just had to get it out.