With Judge Henry's approval, the press conference was held in the main courtroom of the Chester County Courthouse, on Main Street in downtown Slone. Robbie had planned to hold it in his office, but when it became apparent that a mob would attend, he changed his mind. He wanted to make sure every possible reporter could be accommodated, but he didn't want a bunch of curious strangers poking1 around his train station.
At 9:15 a.m., Robbie stepped to the podium in front of Judge Henry's bench and surveyed the throng2. Cameras clicked and tape recorders were turned on to catch every word. He wore a dark three-piece suit, his finest, and though exhausted3, he was also wired. He wasted little time getting to the point. "Good morning and thanks for coming," he said. "The skeletal remains4 of Nicole Yarber were found yesterday morning in a remote section of Newton County, Missouri, just south of the city of Joplin. I was there, along with members of my staff, accompanying a man named Travis Boyette. Boyette led us to the site where he buried Nicole almost nine years ago, two days after he abducted5 her here in Slone. Using dental records, the crime lab in Joplin made a positive identification last night. The crime lab is working around the clock to examine her remains, and their work should be completed in a couple of days." He paused, took a sip6 of water, and scanned the crowd. Not a sound. "I'm in no hurry, folks. I plan to go into considerable detail, then I will answer all the questions you have." He nodded at Carlos, who was seated nearby with his laptop. On a large screen next to the podium, a photo of the grave site appeared. Robbie began a methodical description of what they had found, illustrated7 by one photo after another. Pursuant to an agreement with the authorities in Missouri, he did not show the skeletal remains. The site was being treated as a crime scene. He did use the photos of Nicole's driver's license8, credit card, and the belt Boyette used to strangle her. He talked about Boyette and gave a brief explanation of his disappearance9. There was not yet a warrant for his arrest, so Boyette wasn't a wanted man.
It was obvious that Robbie was relishing10 the moment. His performance was being broadcast live. His audience was captive, spellbound, and hungry for every detail. He could not be interrupted or challenged on any point. It was his press conference, and he was finally getting the last word. The moment was a lawyer's dream.
There would be several points during the morning when Robbie belabored11 a topic, beginning with his heartfelt ramblings about Donte Drumm. The audience, though, refused to be bored. He eventually got around to the crime, and this prompted a photo of Nicole, a very pretty, wholesome12 high school girl.
Reeva was watching. Phone calls had roused her. They had been up all night dealing13 with the fire at the feed store, a fire that was contained quickly and could've been much worse. It was certainly arson14, a criminal act obviously carried out by black thugs seeking revenge against the family of Nicole Yarber. Wallis was still there, and Reeva was alone.
She cried when she saw her daughter's face, displayed by a man she loathed15. She cried and she seethed16 and she ached. Reeva was confused, tormented17, thoroughly18 bewildered. The phone call last night from Judge Henry had spiked19 her blood pressure and sent her to the emergency room. Add the fire, and Reeva was practically delirious20.
She had asked Judge Henry many questions--Nicole's grave? Skeletal remains? Her clothing and driver's license, belt and credit card, and all the way up in Missouri? She had not been dumped in the Red River near Rush Point? And worst of all--Drumm was not the killer21?
"It's true, Mrs. Pike," the judge said patiently. "It's all true. I'm sorry. I know that it is a shock."
A shock? Reeva couldn't believe it and for hours refused to believe it. She'd slept little, ate nothing, and was still grasping for answers when she turned on the television and there was Flak, the peacock, live on CNN talking about her daughter.
There were reporters outside, in the driveway, but the house was locked, the curtains drawn22, the blinds down, and one of Wallis's cousins was on the front porch with a 12-gauge shotgun. Reeva was fed up with the media. She had no comment. Sean Fordyce was holed up in a motel south of town fuming23 because she would not chat with him on camera. He had made a fool of her already. He reminded her of their agreement, of the signed contract, to which she responded, "Just sue me, Fordyce."
Watching Robbie Flak, Reeva, for the first time, allowed herself to think the unthinkable. Was Drumm innocent? Had she spent the last nine years hating the wrong person? Had she watched the wrong man die?
And what about the funeral? Now that her baby had been found, she would need to be properly buried. But the church was gone. Where would they have the funeral? Reeva wiped her face with a wet cloth and mumbled24 to herself.
Eventually, Robbie moved on to the confession25. Here he picked up steam and was consumed by a controlled rage. It was very effective. The courtroom was silent. Carlos projected a photo of Detective Drew Kerber, and Robbie announced with great drama, "And here is the principal architect of the wrongful conviction."
Drew Kerber was watching, at the office. He had spent a horrible night at home. After leaving Judge Henry's, he had gone for a long drive and tried to imagine a happier ending to this nightmare. None appeared. Around midnight, he sat down with his wife at the kitchen table and bared his soul: the grave, the bones, the ID, the unmentionable idea that "evidently" they had nailed the wrong guy; Flak and his lawsuits26 and his threats of vigilante-style suing that would follow Kerber to his grave and the high probability of future unemployment, legal bills, and judgments27. Kerber unloaded a mountain of grief upon his poor wife, but he did not tell the whole truth. Detective Kerber had never admitted, and he never would, that he had bullied28 Donte into confessing.
As a chief detective with sixteen years of experience, he earned $56,000 a year. He had three teenagers and a nine-year-old, a mortgage, two car payments, an IRA with around ten grand, and a savings29 account with $800. If fired, or retired30, he might be entitled to a small pension, but he could not survive financially. And his days as a police officer would be over.
"Drew Kerber is a rogue31 cop with a history of obtaining fake confessions," Robbie said loudly, and Kerber flinched32. He was at his desk, in a small locked office, all alone. He had instructed his wife to keep the TVs off in the house, as if they could somehow hide this story from his kids. He cursed Flak, then watched with horror as the slimeball explained to the world exactly how he, Kerber, had obtained the confession.
Kerber's life was over. He might handle the ending by himself.
Robbie moved on to the trial. He introduced more characters--Paul Koffee and Judge Vivian Grale. Photos, please. On the large screen, Carlos projected them side by side, as if still attached, and Robbie assailed33 them for their relationship. He mocked the "brilliant decision to move the trial all the way to Paris, Texas, forty-nine miles from here." He drove home the point that he tried valiantly34 to keep the confession away from the jury, while Koffee fought just as hard to keep it in evidence. Judge Grale sided with the prosecution35 and "her lover, the Honorable Paul Koffee."
Paul Koffee was watching, and seething36. He was at the cabin by the lake, very much alone, watching the local station's "exclusive live coverage37" of the Robbie Flak show, when he saw his face next to Vivian's. Flak was railing against the jury, as white as a Klan rally because Paul Koffee had systematically38 used his jury strikes to eliminate blacks, and, of course, his girlfriend up on the bench went along with it. "Texas-style justice," Robbie lamented39, over and over.
He eventually moved away from the more tawdry aspects of the judge-prosecutor relationship and found his rhythm railing against the lack of evidence. Grale's face disappeared from the screen, and Koffee's was enlarged. No physical evidence, no dead body, only a trumped-up confession, a jailhouse snitch, a bloodhound, and a lying witness named Joey Gamble. Meanwhile, Travis Boyette was free, certainly not worried about getting caught, not by these clowns.
Koffee had tried all night to conjure40 up a revised theory that would somehow link Donte Drumm and Travis Boyette, but fiction failed him. He felt lousy. His head ached from too much vodka, and his heart pounded as he tried to breathe under the crushing weight of a ruined career. He was finished, and that troubled him much more than the notion that he had helped kill an innocent young man.
When he finished with the jailhouse snitch and the bloodhound, Robbie attacked Joey Gamble and his fraudulent testimony41. With perfect timing42, Carlos flashed up Gamble's affidavit43, the one signed in Houston on Thursday, an hour before the execution. Highlighted were Joey's statements admitting he lied at trial and admitting he was the first to suggest that Donte Drumm was the killer.
Joey Gamble was watching. He was at his mother's house in Slone. His father was away; his mother needed him. He had told her the truth, and the truth had not been well received. Now he was shocked to see and hear his transgressions44 broadcast in such a startling way. He had assumed that when he came clean, he would be subjected to some level of embarrassment45, but nothing like this.
"Joey Gamble lied repeatedly," Flak announced at full throttle46, and Joey almost reached for the remote. "And now he admits it!" Joey's mother was upstairs in her bedroom, too upset to be around him. "You helped kill that boy," she had said more than once, not that Joey needed reminding.
Robbie continued, "Moving on from the incompetent47 investigation48, the travesty49 of a trial, and the wrongful conviction, I would like to now discuss the Texas Court of Criminal Appeals. This court heard Donte's first appeal in February 2001. The body of Nicole Yarber was still missing. The court noted50 that there was no physical evidence in the trial. The court seemed slightly bothered by the lies of the jailhouse snitch. It nibbled51 at the edges of Donte's confession but refused to criticize Judge Grale for allowing the jury to hear it. It commented on the use of the bloodhound testimony, saying perhaps it wasn't the 'best evidence' to use in such a serious trial. But all in all, the court saw nothing wrong. The vote was nine to affirm the conviction, zero to overturn it."
Chief Justice Milton Prudlowe was watching. A frantic52 call from his law clerk had alerted him to the press conference, and he was with his wife in their small apartment in Austin, glued to CNN. If Texas had indeed executed an innocent man, he knew his court was in for an avalanche53 of scorching54 criticism. Mr. Flak seemed prepared to lead the attack.
"Last Thursday," Robbie was saying, "at exactly 3:35 p.m., lawyers for Donte Drumm filed a petition for relief, and we included a video that we had just taken of Travis Boyette confessing to the rape55 and murder. This was two and a half hours before the execution. I assume the court considered this matter and was not impressed with the video, or the affidavit, because an hour later the court denied relief and refused to stop the execution. Again, the vote was nine to zero." On cue, Carlos flashed up the times and actions by the court. Robbie plowed56 ahead. "The court closes for business each day at 5:00 p.m., even when an execution is pending57. Our final filing was the last-minute affidavit and recantation by Joey Gamble. In Austin, attorneys for Donte called the court clerk, a Mr. Emerson Pugh, and informed him that they were on their way with the petition. He said the court would close at 5:00. And he was right. When the attorneys arrived at the court at 5:07, the door was locked. The petition could not be filed."
Prudlowe's wife glared at him and said, "I hope he's lying."
Prudlowe wanted to assure her that of course this loudmouthed lawyer was lying, but he hesitated. Flak was too shrewd to make such damning statements in public without having the facts to back them up.
"Milton, tell me this guy is lying."
"Well, honey, I'm not sure right now."
"You're not sure? Why would the court close if the lawyers were trying to file something?"
"Well, uh, we--"
"You're stuttering here, Milton, and that means you're struggling to tell me something that may or may not be entirely58 accurate. Did you see Boyette's video two hours before the execution?"
"Yes, it was passed--"
"Oh my God, Milton! Then why didn't you stop things for a few days. You're the chief justice, Milton; you can do anything you want. Executions are delayed all the time. Why not give it another thirty days, or a year for that matter?"
"We thought it was bogus. The guy is a serial59 rapist with no credibility."
"Well, right now he's got a helluva lot more credibility than the Texas Court of Criminal Appeals. The murderer confesses, no one believes him, so he shows them exactly where he buried the body. Sounds pretty credible60 to me."
Robbie paused and took a sip of water. "As for the governor, his office received a copy of the Boyette video at 3:11 Thursday afternoon. I don't know for sure whether the governor saw the video. We do know that at 4:30 he addressed a crowd of protesters and publicly denied a reprieve61 for Donte."
The governor was watching. He was standing62 in his office in the Governor's Mansion63, dressed for a golf game that would not be played, with Wayne on one side and Barry on the other. When Robbie paused, he demanded, "Is that true? Did we have the video at 3:11 p.m.?"
Wayne lied first. "Don't know. So much stuff was happening. They were filing junk by the truckload."
Barry told the second lie. "This is the first I've heard of it."
"Did anyone see the video when it came in?" he asked, his irritation64 growing by the second.
"Don't know, Boss, but we'll find out," Barry said.
The governor stared at the television, his mind spinning, trying to grasp the severity of what he was hearing. Robbie was saying, "Even after denying clemency65, the governor had the right to reconsider and stop the execution. He refused to do so."
The governor hissed66 the word "Asshole," then yelled, "Get to the bottom of this, and now!"
Carlos closed his laptop, and the screen went blank. Robbie flipped67 through his legal pad to make sure he'd said enough. He lowered his voice and in a grave tone said, "In closing, it is now obvious that we have finally done it. Those who study the death penalty, and those of us who fight it, have long feared the day when this would happen, when we would wake up to the horrible fact that we have executed an innocent man, and that it can be proven by clear and convincing evidence. Innocent men have been executed before, but the proof was not clear. With Donte, there is no doubt." A pause. The courtroom was still and silent. "What you will see in the days to come will be a pathetic game of finger-pointing, lying, and dodging68 blame. I have just given you the names and some of the faces of those responsible. Go after them, listen to their lies. This did not have to happen. This was not an unavoidable mistake. This was a willful disregard for the rights of Donte Drumm. May he rest in peace. Thank you."
Before the onslaught of questions, Robbie stepped to the bar and took the hand of Roberta Drumm. She rose and walked stiffly to the podium, Robbie by her side. She pulled the microphone down a bit closer and said, "My name is Roberta Drumm. Donte was my son. I have little to say at this moment. My family is grieving. We are in shock. But I beg of you, I plead with the people of this town, to stop the violence. Stop the fires and the rock throwing, the fighting, the threats. Please stop it. It does no good. Yes, we are angry. Yes, we are wounded. But the violence serves no purpose. I call on my people to lay down your arms, to respect everyone, and to get off the streets. The violence does nothing but harm the honor of my son."
Robbie led her back to her seat, then smiled at the crowd and said, "Now, does anyone have a question?"
收听单词发音 |
1
poking
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| n. 刺，戳，袋 vt. 拨开，刺，戳 vi. 戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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abducted
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| 劫持，诱拐( abduct的过去式和过去分词 )； 使（肢体等）外展 | |
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sip
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| v.小口地喝，抿，呷；n.一小口的量 | |
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illustrated
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| adj. 有插图的，列举的 动词illustrate的过去式和过去分词 | |
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license
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| n.执照，许可证，特许；v.许可，特许 | |
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disappearance
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| n.消失，消散，失踪 | |
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relishing
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| v.欣赏( relish的现在分词 )；从…获得乐趣；渴望 | |
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belabored
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| v.毒打一顿( belabor的过去式和过去分词 )；责骂；就…作过度的说明；向…唠叨 | |
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wholesome
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| adj.适合；卫生的；有益健康的；显示身心健康的 | |
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dealing
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| n.经商方法，待人态度 | |
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arson
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| n.纵火，放火 | |
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loathed
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| v.憎恨，厌恶( loathe的过去式和过去分词 )；极不喜欢 | |
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seethed
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| （液体）沸腾( seethe的过去式和过去分词 )； 激动，大怒； 强压怒火； 生闷气(~with sth|~ at sth) | |
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tormented
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| 饱受折磨的 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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spiked
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| adj.有穗的；成锥形的；有尖顶的 | |
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delirious
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| adj.不省人事的，神智昏迷的 | |
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killer
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| n.杀人者，杀人犯，杀手，屠杀者 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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fuming
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| 愤怒( fume的现在分词 )； 大怒； 发怒； 冒烟 | |
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mumbled
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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lawsuits
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| n.诉讼( lawsuit的名词复数 ) | |
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judgments
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| 判断( judgment的名词复数 )； 鉴定； 评价； 审判 | |
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bullied
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| adj.被欺负了v.恐吓，威逼( bully的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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savings
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| n.存款，储蓄 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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rogue
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| n.流氓；v.游手好闲 | |
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flinched
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| v.（因危险和痛苦）退缩，畏惧( flinch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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assailed
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| v.攻击( assail的过去式和过去分词 )；困扰；质问；毅然应对 | |
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valiantly
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| adv.勇敢地，英勇地；雄赳赳 | |
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prosecution
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| n.起诉，告发，检举，执行，经营 | |
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seething
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| 沸腾的，火热的 | |
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coverage
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| n.报导，保险范围，保险额，范围，覆盖 | |
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systematically
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| adv.有系统地 | |
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lamented
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| adj.被哀悼的，令人遗憾的v.（为…）哀悼，痛哭，悲伤( lament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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conjure
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| v.恳求，祈求；变魔术，变戏法 | |
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testimony
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| n.证词；见证，证明 | |
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timing
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| n.时间安排，时间选择 | |
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affidavit
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| n.宣誓书 | |
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transgressions
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| n.违反，违法，罪过( transgression的名词复数 ) | |
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embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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throttle
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| n.节流阀，节气阀，喉咙；v.扼喉咙，使窒息，压 | |
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incompetent
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| adj.无能力的，不能胜任的 | |
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investigation
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| n.调查，调查研究 | |
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travesty
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| n.歪曲，嘲弄，滑稽化 | |
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50
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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51
nibbled
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| v.啃，一点一点地咬（吃）( nibble的过去式和过去分词 )；啃出（洞），一点一点咬出（洞）；慢慢减少；小口咬 | |
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52
frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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53
avalanche
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| n.雪崩，大量涌来 | |
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scorching
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| adj. 灼热的 | |
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rape
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| n.抢夺，掠夺，强奸；vt.掠夺，抢夺，强奸 | |
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56
plowed
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| v.耕( plow的过去式和过去分词 )；犁耕；费力穿过 | |
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pending
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| prep.直到，等待…期间；adj.待定的；迫近的 | |
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58
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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serial
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| n.连本影片，连本电视节目；adj.连续的 | |
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60
credible
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| adj.可信任的，可靠的 | |
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61
reprieve
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| n.暂缓执行（死刑）；v.缓期执行；给…带来缓解 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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64
irritation
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| n.激怒，恼怒，生气 | |
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65
clemency
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| n.温和，仁慈，宽厚 | |
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66
hissed
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| 发嘶嘶声( hiss的过去式和过去分词 )； 发嘘声表示反对 | |
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67
flipped
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| 轻弹( flip的过去式和过去分词 )； 按（开关）； 快速翻转； 急挥 | |
参考例句： |
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68
dodging
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| n.避开，闪过，音调改变v.闪躲( dodge的现在分词 )；回避 | |
参考例句： |
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