The Gods of Guilt(130)

With his answer Lankford walked across the line from plausible deniability to conspiracy to commit. If he had been my client, I would have stopped him by now. But I had my own client to clear. I pressed on.

“Are you saying that you knew what was going to happen to Giselle that night?”

“No, never. I was just taking precautions.”

I studied Lankford, unsure if he was elaborately covering his own culpability in a murder or actually telling the truth.

“So you set up the liaison for that night and then you waited for her in the lobby, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Using your hat as a shield against the cameras?”

“Yes.”

“And then you followed her home to Franklin Avenue.”

“I did.”

The judge interrupted at that moment and addressed the jury.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I know it seems as though we just got started but we are going to take a quick five-minute break. I want you to go to the jury room and stay close by. I want all counsel and the witness to remain in place, please.”

We stood as the jury filed out. I knew what was coming. The judge couldn’t just sit there without warning Lankford of his peril. As soon as the jury room’s door closed, she turned to my witness.

“Mr. Lankford, do you have counsel present?”

“No, I don’t,” Lankford responded calmly.

“Do you want me to pause your testimony here so you can seek the advice of counsel?”

“No, Your Honor. I want to do this. I’ve committed no crime.”

“You are sure?”

The question could be taken two ways. Was Lankford sure he didn’t want a lawyer, or was he sure he had committed no crime.

“I would like to continue to testify.”

The judge stared at Lankford for a long moment as if taking some sort of measure of him. She then turned away and signaled for the courtroom deputy to approach the bench. She whispered to the deputy and then he immediately walked to the side of the witness stand and took a position next to Lankford. He put his hand on his sidearm. It looked as if he was about to make an arrest.

“Mr. Lankford, will you please stand.”

Looking puzzled, Lankford stood. He glanced at the deputy and then at the judge.

“Are you wearing a firearm, Mr. Lankford?” Leggoe asked.

“Uh, yes, I am.”

“I want you to surrender your weapon to Deputy Hernandez. He will secure it until your testimony is completed.”

Lankford didn’t move. It became clear that Leggoe was concerned that he was armed and might attempt to harm himself or others. It was a good move.

“Mr. Lankford,” the judge said sternly. “Please hand your weapon to Deputy Hernandez.”

Hernandez responded by unsnapping his holster with one hand and keying his shoulder mike with the other. I assumed he was broadcasting an emergency code of some sort to others in courthouse security.

Lankford finally raised his hand and reached inside his sport coat. He slowly removed his gun and handed it to Deputy Hernandez.

“Thank you, Mr. Lankford,” the judge said. “You may sit down now.”

“I have a pocket knife, too,” Lankford said. “Is that a problem?”

“No, Mr. Lankford, that is not a problem. Please be seated.”

There was a collective exhale of relief in the courtroom as Lankford sat down and Hernandez took the gun to his desk to lock it in a drawer. Four deputies flooded into the courtroom through the rear door and the holding area entrance. The judge immediately told them to stand down and called for the jury to be returned to the box.

Three minutes later, things seemed to have returned to normal. The jury and witness were in place and the judge nodded at me.

“Mr. Haller, you may proceed.”

I thanked the judge and then tried to pick up at the point where I had been interrupted.

“Investigator Lankford, did you tell Agent Marco to meet you there at the Franklin address?”

“No, I called him and gave him the address. Shortly after that I left. I was done. I went home.”

“And two hours later, Gloria Dayton, the woman using the name Giselle Dallinger, was dead. Isn’t that right?”

Lankford cast his eyes down and nodded his head.

“Yes.”

I once again checked the jury and saw that nothing had changed. They were mesmerized by Lankford’s confession.

“I’ll ask you again, Investigator. Did you know she would die that night?”

“No, I did not. If I had . . .”

“What?”

“Nothing. I don’t know what I would have done.”

“What did you think would happen once you gave Gloria Dayton’s address to Marco?”

Forsythe objected, saying the question asked for speculation, but the judge overruled it and told Lankford he could answer. Like everyone else in the courtroom, Leggoe wanted to hear the answer.