Canelli’s opening argument began, no surprise, with a gory, no-holds-barred description of the death of Kate McGuire. It was a well-established fact, or so prosecutors believed, that if you can make the crime seem vile enough, the jury will vote to convict, basically, anyone. What did surprise Ben was how often Canelli managed to work Father Beale’s name into what was supposed to be a nonargumentative recitation of the facts.

“Daniel Beale was officiating at the wedding. Daniel Beale argued with Kate McGuire minutes before she was killed. The body was found in Daniel Beale’s office. Her blood was on Daniel Beale’s hands. Ladies and gentlemen, there is no question about what happened. The only question is-what are you going to do about it?”

Getting a bit argumentative, Ben noted, but it was too soon to object. It’s not like he was telling the jury anything they didn’t already know. The prosecutor wants you to convict. Big surprise.

“We will call to the stand numerous witnesses,” Canelli continued, “both inside the church and outside, who will testify about the enormous anger and enmity Daniel Beale had for all members of the vestry, but especially for Kate McGuire-anger which revealed itself in repeated displays of temper. Threats were made, violent promises. Promises that were ultimately fulfilled in the most heinous way possible.

“We will also call to the stand expert witnesses-the police officers who investigated the scene and the forensic experts who tested the evidence. Each of these witnesses will tell you the same thing. That Daniel Beale committed this crime. That it was him and could have been no other. That the violent promises he made were fulfilled with deadly certainty.”

Getting a bit poetic on us, Mr. Canelli? Apparently he’d put some extra time and effort into this opening. A bad sign for the defense. Because if he put this much time into the opening, Ben could only imagine what he’d planned for the rest of the trial.

Canelli finished at the end of the predetermined half hour, and Christina rose and introduced herself to the jury. Ben had assigned opening to her, in part to save closing for himself, and in part because he knew she would get the defense off to a good start with the jury. People trusted Christina; she came off friendly and honest-because she was. They recognized that her job was to defend the accused, but they also got a strong sense that she believed what she was saying-an all too rare circumstance for criminal lawyers.

“Most of what the prosecutor has told you is true,” she said, right off the bat. “He’s exaggerated and melodramatized it, but his facts are essentially accurate. But does the fact that the body was found in Father Beale’s office prove he’s the killer? Of course not. Doesn’t look good, but it doesn’t prove he committed murder. Certainly not beyond a reasonable doubt. The evidence presented in this courtroom will demonstrate that there are many other possibilities, and most important, that Father Beale did not commit this horrible crime.

“The prosecutor has made much of the fact that the body was found in Father Beale’s office, but consider-if you’re going to kill someone, is it smart to do it in your own office? On a day when literally hundreds of people will be in the church? Though the prosecutor wants you to believe Father Beale is a killer, he has never suggested that Father Beale is stupid. But let’s face it-that would be a stupid thing to do. It only makes sense if the killer was someone else. Someone who wanted to throw suspicion on Father Beale.”

Ben couldn’t help but take pride in what a good job Christina was doing. Not that he had anything to do with it. She’d been around lawyers for so many years, it was only natural that she’d pick up a few skill points. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a bit of a surge when he saw what an outstanding presentation she was making. Straightforward but not boring. Effective but not overreaching. Damn near perfect, really. And she’d had her license less than a year.

“The prosecutor talked about Father Beale’s horrible temper, suggesting that this murder might’ve been the product of his rage. But the evidence will show that at no time did Father Beale, even in the most heated of arguments, strike anyone or harm them physically. There’s a big difference between having a shoutfest at a meeting and strangling a woman over your desk. No witness called by either side will ever testify that he was physically violent. Sure, he had disagreements with the governing body of the church. Some of them serious. Frankly, that’s not unusual. Is it a credible motive for murder? Do we believe someone would kill a woman just to silence her opinion about church matters? I couldn’t believe that of the lowest life-form on earth. And I certainly can’t believe it of Father Beale.”

She turned slightly, compelling the jurors to look at the defendant. “We’re not going to be asking for any favors based upon the fact that the accused is a priest. But we will ask you to consider the man, the person who sits at that table. As the evidence will show, he has no history of violence. To the contrary, he has only a history of selfless devotion, both to the world and to God. He has given most of his life to projects benefiting others, important social and religious causes. And we’re supposed to believe that man suddenly became a cold-blooded killer-over some church dispute? Is that credible?”

She was, of course, doing exactly what Canelli had tried to circumvent, arguing-He’s a priest! Therefore, he’s a good guy, not a bad guy. But she was doing it so intelligently, and weaving in so much legal jargon, it was impossible for the DA to object.

“My partner will talk to you about this later,” Christina continued, “and so will the judge, but it’s worth reminding you, while we talk of possibilities and probabilities, that you have not been called here to guess about what happened. You have been called to listen to the prosecution’s theory, to hear their evidence, and to answer one question-Have they proved their case beyond a reasonable doubt? If not, if doubts remain, then you must vote to acquit. It is not optional. The burden of proof is entirely on the prosecution. And if they do not meet it, then you must vote not guilty.”

She stepped closer to them. “But I don’t think it will come to that. Because the prosecution’s case, as you will see, is full of holes. And Father Beale is not a murderer. My partner and I know that. And at the conclusion of this trial, I believe you will, too. That’s why you’ll vote not guilty.”

Christina took her seat. Father Beale looked pleased; Ben gave her an under-the-table thumbs-up.

Judge Pitcock banged his gavel. “Mr. Canelli, you may call your first witness.”

And so the trial for Father Beale’s life began.

The Gospel According to Daniel

It is a strange phenomenon, hearing people you know, people you love even, talk about you as if you were not present, even though they know perfectly well that you are. It is strange-and painful-watching them studiously avoid making eye contact, even as they say your name and talk about you at length. One always likes to imagine that one’s acquaintances think well of them, and that when they are not present, they make warm and heartfelt compliments on your behalf. One fantasizes about being present at one’s own funeral, like Tom Sawyer, and seeing friends and acquaintances, prostrate with grief, declaring the deceased to be “the finest man I have ever known.”

My experience in court was somewhat different.

I was aware, of course, that many of my parishioners would be testifying for the prosecution, and I did not take it personally. I knew they had been subpoenaed, in the main, and that they would only be providing bits of circumstantial evidence, telling what they had seen and heard, and letting the prosecutor run with it as he would. They were fulfilling their duty to the state, just as I fulfilled my duty to God, I rationalized. No harm could come of that.