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“Let the record reflect,” Ben said quietly, “that a police search of the so-called Temple of the Vampire, detailed in the report admitted as Exhibit D-235, reveals that a quarter of a million dollars in cash was found in a satchel in the man known as the Sire’s bedroom. A comparison of serial numbers has established that this money came from the Glancys’ Grand Cayman bank account. And the satchel was splattered with blood that matches that of Veronica Cooper. They also found a bottle of the anticoagulant known as warfarin.”

“We never meant for this to happen,” Beatrice said, her voice cracking, tears streaming through the fingers spread across her face. “All we wanted was a little fun, something to relieve our stress at the end of the workday. And now-now-” She began to choke, her words mingling with her sobbing. “Now all my friends are dead. All of them. And I don’t feel as if I can go on living another day. The doctors watch over me, trying to save me, and I keep thinking-why? Why bother? Why not just let it end and let me finally-finally-find some peace?”

Silence blanketed the courtroom like a shroud. Judge Herndon called for the prearranged break. But no one was listening. Everyone’s eyes were on the poor broken girl in the witness stand, not yet even twenty-two, who only a few months ago had a life so vibrant, so promising, that almost anyone might’ve envied it. And who now was so miserable that she secretly wished her doctors would let her die.

After the break, Padolino attempted to cross-examine Beatrice, but there was little he could do, and he was smart enough not to push her over the brink, an act that would’ve made the jury despise him. He emphasized how ill she had been, how often she had been on drugs, and naturally suggested that anything she said, anything she thought she remembered, was suspect. The prosecutor repeatedly hammered the fact that she had not seen the Sire commit the murder and was in reality only making surmises about what had happened based upon what this career liar had told her. And he reminded the jury that despite the horrific tragedy these girls had suffered, all the hard-and-fast evidence still pointed to Senator Glancy.

After the drama of Beatrice’s testimony, closing arguments were almost anticlimactic-but still of critical importance. Perhaps more than in any previous case in his career, Ben realized that everything could hinge on them, as the jury tried to weigh the credibility of Beatrice’s astonishing testimony, whether it could possibly be true, whether it was enough to overcome all the evidence that pointed to Todd Glancy as the killer.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,” Padolino began, “when all is said and done, it comes down to this. Which is more likely: that Veronica Cooper was killed by a man who knew her, worked with her, had an illicit affair with her, was being blackmailed by her, had scheduled a meeting with her, left a meeting just before the time of her death, and controlled the hideaway in which she was found? Or that she was killed by some hitherto unknown person with no knowledge of or access to the Senate, who the defense wants you to believe was a-” He rolled his eyes. “-a vampire, covering up the evil deeds of his equally diabolical coven. Which one sounds like the truth, the world as we know it, and which one sounds like a preposterous fantasy cooked up by a desperate defense? In the final analysis, I don’t think it’s all that hard a question to answer.”

Padolino proceeded along those lines for nearly an hour, reviewing all the evidence that had been presented during the case and never missing an opportunity to remind the jury of the unsavory secrets that had been revealed about the defendant. “Using a typically disreputable defense tactic, they have attempted to save the defendant by trashing his victim-but it didn’t work, did it? They say the victim had an active sex life-the implication being that this makes it okay for Senator Glancy to have sex with one of his young employees, perhaps even to murder her. A detective was called to provide more slander. Even the senator’s wife was called to talk trash about poor dead Veronica Cooper-but in each case, what we learned about Senator Glancy was far more illuminating. That he has had not one but many affairs. That he favors aberrant, sickening sexual practices-practices which in many respects resemble the wounds found on the victim. Worst of all, that he has engaged in sexual promiscuity with a minor-a seventeen-year-old girl-and subjected her to the same ugly perversions as the others. That he cut her on the neck, just as Veronica Cooper was cut-fatally. Good God-” Padolino’s voice swelled. “You saw that video. What isn’t this man capable of doing?”

Padolino turned, pivoting, then walked slowly to the edge of the jury box and laid his hand upon the rail. “Don’t misunderstand me. My heart bled just like yours did when we heard the testimony of that poor woman, Beatrice Taylor, when she told us about the torment, the horrors that she and her friends endured. But that had nothing to do with the supernatural. That had to do with a megalomaniacal drug pusher. He wasn’t controlling those girls with the hypnotic power of his vampire eyes-he was controlling them with drugs. And whether he drank blood or not, it doesn’t change the fact that there is no such thing as a vampire and there is no evidence-not the slightest shred of evidence-that this man was ever on the grounds of the Senate, not on the day Veronica Cooper died or at any other time. Ms. Taylor suggests that he bribed a guard to get into the Senate building without recording his name on the daily registry. Well, isn’t that convenient? I’ve heard that you can’t see vampires in a mirror. Apparently you can’t see them in the United States Capitol building, either.”

He paused, looking at each juror in turn. Ben could tell he was winding up for the grand finale. “You know what this is? It’s the Big Lie Defense. Tell a little lie, and people may be suspicious, think you’re just trying to get yourself off. But if you can concoct something huge, something outrageously unlikely, people are actually more likely to buy it, on the theory that no one would dare tell a tale that tall unless it were true. That’s what has happened in this trial, my friends. They couldn’t give you another likely suspect. So instead-they gave you Count Dracula.”

He stepped closer, and even though his voice grew softer, it seemed more urgent, more insistent. “But you’re not that gullible, are you? You’re not that easily misled by courtroom shenanigans. You can still distinguish right from wrong, truth from fiction, the likely from the impossible. You know in your hearts what really happened. Senator Glancy and Veronica Cooper were having an illicit sexual relationship. She tried to blackmail him. So he killed her and dumped the body in his private hideaway till he could think of something better to do with it. It’s that simple. And that’s why I know you’ll do the right thing-and find the defendant guilty of the murder of Veronica Cooper. Guilty of murder in the first degree.”

“Let’s get one thing straight right up front,” Ben said, as he approached the jury box. “This case does not come down to which of Mr. Padolino’s scenarios you think is most likely. In fact, I will tell you-and the judge will reinforce this later when he gives you your formal instructions before deliberation-that it makes no difference whatsoever which you think is most likely. Because the standard before you is not ‘what’s more likely.’ The standard is whether the prosecution has proven Todd Glancy’s guilt beyond a reasonable doubt. If they have done anything less-regardless of what you think is most likely-you must acquit.

“The prosecutor has done his best to belittle the evidence we have presented-even though we have presented tons of it, with one consistent witness after another. Let me tell you something. I am well aware that there is no such thing as a vampire. But what I am telling you is that this nut thought he was a vampire, that he behaved as a vampire, that he led others, with the force of his personality, his sexual prowess, and his drugs, to believe that he was a vampire, and induced them to become a part of his vampiric cult. It is undisputed that he killed Colleen Smith as well as Amber Daily, and more to the point-that he had a motive for killing Veronica Cooper. So let me rephrase Mr. Padolino’s question. Which is more likely: that Veronica Cooper was killed by a sadistic maniac who was responsible for the deaths of at least two of her friends and the torture of numerous other women? Or that she was killed by a United States senator, a man with no criminal record whatsoever.”