Page 97 of The First Gentleman

CHAPTER 93

T he next witness is clearly uncomfortable in the courtroom.

Herb Lucienne, the Sentra driver whom Trooper Steve Josephs pulled over—the guy who was driving a car that turned out to have human bones in its trunk—looks like he would rather be anywhere but here.

When Bastinelli runs Lucienne through his background, I understand why.

He has been in and out of jail since he was sixteen.

Petty crimes. Nothing as serious as murder.

“Mr. Lucienne, what is your employment status, may I ask?”

Lucienne hunches his shoulders.

“Currently unemployed, on parole.”

The deputy AG gets Lucienne to tell the jury about the night an envelope containing cut-up hundred-dollar bills was slipped under his door.

To collect the other half, all the witness had to do was pick up a car in a parking lot and drive it to a specific location on Lake Marie, in the White Mountains up north.

“Mr. Lucienne, did it occur to you that you were being asked to do something illegal?”

Lucienne tugs at his collar.

“I guess it seemed a little shady,” he admits.

“Is that why you had six beers before taking on the mission? To calm your nerves?”

“I guess so. Maybe so I wouldn’t worry so much.”

“But you really needed that five hundred dollars, didn’t you?”

“Shit, yes!” He glances up at the judge.

“Sorry about the language, sir.”

Dow gives him a tight smile.

“Proceed, Mr. Lucienne.”

Lucienne doesn’t seem to know anything beyond what he was told that night.

Obviously, Bastinelli knew what he would say on the stand.

And there’s not much he can do to link him to Cole Wright.

But I can’t blame him for trying.

“The truth is, you don’t know who sent you that message, do you?”

“Nope.”

“It could have been somebody acting on behalf of somebody else, correct?”

“I guess so.”

“It could have been somebody with a strong motive to make sure those bones were never discovered, correct? Someone who wanted them to disappear forever.”

“Objection!” Tess Hardy shouts.

“Your Honor, Mr. Bastinelli is weaving his own little fairy tale here.”

The judge nods.

“Sustained. Mr. Bastinelli, anything else for Mr. Lucienne?”

“Not at this time, Your Honor.”

From where I’m sitting, I figure the AG needs to cut his losses.

He looks over at Hardy.

“Your witness.”

This time when Hardy walks across the courtroom, she looks like a cat eyeing a canary.

I can see Lucienne squirming in his seat as she begins.

“You have to admit that that’s one wild story you just told us. Mysterious note slipped under your door. Clandestine payment for driving a vehicle up to a remote lake. Is that the kind of thing you normally do to make money?”

“No, ma’am,” says Lucienne.

“This was the first time.”

I can tell that some of the jurors are trying not to laugh.

“So when you got the promise of several hundred dollars in payment, that was appealing to you, correct?”

Lucienne nods.

The judge leans over.

“Mr. Lucienne, you have to speak for the record. With words.”

Lucienne leans into the microphone on the witness stand.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s right. I took the job. Went to the parking lot. Found the car, the directions, the key, a little spending money for the trip.”

Hardy walks up close to the witness stand.

I keep waiting for the judge to tell her to back off, but he seems to be giving both attorneys free rein.

“Mr. Lucienne, did you know there were human remains in the trunk of the car you were driving?”

“That skeleton? No! If I knew that, I would never have gone anywhere near it. Not for a million bucks!”

“So for all you knew that night, you were just driving a vehicle from Seabrook to Lake Marie.”

“That’s right.”

“Did you know who owned the property that you were driving to?”

“No.”

“Have you ever heard of a company called Tight End Limited?”

“Nope.”

Herb Lucienne might not be the sharpest knife in the drawer, as my mama used to say, but he seems to be answering truthfully.

Hell, I believe him.

“Mr. Lucienne,” says Hardy, “you’ve been very patient. I just have a couple more questions for you.”

“Okay.”

“Do you know Cole Wright?”

“Sure,” says Lucienne.

“He’s sitting right over there.”

Everyone in the courtroom looks to the defense table.

Cole Wright is staring at Lucienne.

“Yes, he is. My fault. I wasn’t clear. I mean, do you know him personally?”

“Personally? No.”

“You’ve never met him? Spoken with him? Texted with him? Exchanged email?”

Lucienne shakes his head.

“No!”

“So, to be clear, during this entire mysterious process, you never got any communication from Cole Wright telling you to drive skeletal remains up to his property on Lake Marie?”

Lucienne is animated now, practically jumping out of the witness chair.

“Never! I mean, that’d be crazy !”

Hardy gives him a little smile.

“I couldn’t agree more. No further questions.”

Looks like the cat just swallowed the canary. Impressive.