Page 70 of The River We Remember

“If you’re threatened, call me. But be careful what you say on the phone. It’s a party line, and folks listen.”

Kyoko offered her small hand in parting. She was no more than a wisp of thing, and as Charlie left, she felt a great concern for the young woman’s safety, because except for an old dog who would be no threat to an intruder, Kyoko Bluestone was completely alone and unprotected.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

NOAH BLUESTONE’S ARRAIGNMENT was as well attended as a church Christmas service. People showed up that morning who’d never seen the inside of the Black Earth County courthouse. Charlie Bauer had picked up Kyoko, who was dressed in a white blouse, gray skirt that came to midcalf, and black shoes with short heels. Her hair was washed, brushed silk smooth and shiny, and she wore it long. The look of her was unadorned but attractive. Per Charlie’s instructions, she brought a clean shirt and tie and sport coat for her husband to wear at the proceeding. Noah Bluestone sat with his attorney at the defendant’s table. Kyoko sat directly behind them, on the other side of the railing that separated the jurists from the public who’d come to watch.

When, after Charlie Bauer’s long absence from Minnesota, she’d returned to Jewel and had begun to defend the defenseless there, she was looked on as a kind of freak. People in Black Earth County didn’t think of women as lawyers. Or doctors or bankers. They could be teachers or nurses. Or wives and mothers. But competing on a playing field that was traditionally male made Charlie an item of consternation and even disapproval. Which she always thought odd, considering that not many years earlier, when men on that prairie were either giving up or going crazy because of the hard work the land demanded, it was often the iron-backed pioneer women who endured and saved the homesteads. So not only did the disapproval in Black Earth County not bother her, but Charlie rather reveled in it.

The county attorney, Alex Williams, didn’t arrive until moments before the arraignment was to begin. Charlie guessed that this was by design. She’d faced Williams many times in the courtroom, and he was a man who liked a good show. Charlie suspected that he was preparing to play a part in Minnesota’s larger political arena, building a reputation, and the murder of James Quinn was a blessing that had fallen into his lap.

Brody was there, of course, and Connie Graff. Sam Wicklow, too. Right up front, staring nails at the back of Noah Bluestone’s head, sat Terry Quinn, who’d come into town that morning for the proceeding. But Charlie noted that his sister, Fiona McCarthy, was absent. This wasn’t necessarily surprising considering the cloud of scandal that had hung over her in Jewel. Charlie was gone when Fiona had become pregnant and quickly married her high school history teacher. Still, twenty years later it continued to be an occasional topic of gossip in Jewel. Since Jimmy Quinn’s death, it was part of all the juicy tidbits, old and new, that were making the rounds. What was more telling for Charlie that day was the absence of Marta Quinn and her children.

Judge Kevin Eide was then in his final years on the bench. He hadn’t been challenged in his bid for reelection in forever. He was a fair man and ran his courtroom in a relaxed but judiciously responsible manner.

Things began in the usual way, then came time for the judge to ask Bluestone how he pleaded to the charge of murder.

Charlie stood. “On behalf of my client, I would like to enter a plea of not guilty.”

“On behalf of my client? That’s an interesting phraseology, Counselor.” Eide wore little half-glasses for reading. He peered over the top of the rims at Noah Bluestone. “Is that your plea, Mr. Bluestone?”

Bluestone, from the outset, had held himself erect in his chair. It struck Charlie as perhaps a holdover from his long military life. “No, sir,” he said.

“No?” Eide looked at Charlie. “I don’t understand.”

“My client refuses to enter a plea on his own behalf, Your Honor. I’m entering the plea for him.”

The judge’s eyes shifted again to Charlie’s client.

“Mr. Bluestone, is there a reason you won’t speak for yourself in this?”

“Yes, sir.”

The judge waited and finally said, “I wouldn’t mind hearing from you sometime today.”

“My reasons are my own, sir.”

“If it please the court,” Charlie said, “in this and all other related proceedings, I intend to be the voice of my client in every respect.”

“In every respect.” Eide rolled this over in his thinking. “This is what you want, Mr. Bluestone?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you understand the seriousness of the charge against you?”

“I do.”

“And yet you intend not to participate in your defense in any way.”

“Yes, sir.”

Eide said, “So be it. Let the record show that on behalf of her client, defense counsel has entered a plea of not guilty.” He eyed Charlie, then Bluestone, and said, “But I’m going to order a psychiatric evaluation.”

“On what grounds, Your Honor?” Charlie said.

“The crime he’s accused of is a particularly heinous one, Charlie. Yet here he sits, and as nearly I can tell, he’s about as moved by all this as a tree stump. And in addition, he refuses to participate in his own defense. I think it would be unwise to proceed with everything that a trial is bound to entail without first having a good, expert opinion of your client’s current mental state.”

“I concur, Your Honor,” Williams said.