Williams quickly leaned forward to answer.

“We’re not answering questions about evidence at this time.”

“Mickey, why are you taking the case?”

The question came from the back of the room, from behind the lights, and I could not see the owner of the voice. I moved back to the microphones, angling my body so Williams had to step back.

“Good question,” I said. “It’s certainly unusual for me to be on the other side of the aisle, so to speak. But I think this is the case to cross over for. I’m an officer of the court and a proud member of the California bar. We take an oath to seek justice and fairness while upholding the Constitution and laws of this nation and state. One of the duties of a lawyer is to take a just cause without personal consideration to himself. This is such a cause. Someone has to speak for Melissa Landy. I have reviewed the evidence in this case and I think I’m on the right side of this one. The measure is proof beyond a reasonable doubt. I think that such proof exists here.”

Williams moved in and put a hand on my arm to gently move me off the microphone stand.

“We do not want to go any further than that in regard to the evidence,” he said quickly.

“Jessup’s already spent twenty-four years in prison,” Salters said. “Anything less than a conviction for first-degree murder and he will probably walk on time served. Mr. Williams, is it really worth the expense and effort of retrying this man?”

Before she was finished asking the question, I knew she and Williams had a deal working. She lobbed softballs and he hit them out of the park, looking good and righteous on the eleven o’clock news and in the morning paper. Her end of the deal would come with inside scoops on the evidence and trial strategy. I decided in that moment that it was my case, my trial, my deal.

“None of that matters,” I said loudly from my position to the side.

All eyes turned to me. Even Williams turned.