Under Oath

by McLean, Margaret

• ISBN13: 9780765328137
• ISBN10: 0765328135
• Format: Hardcover
• Copyright: 2012-04-24
• Publisher: Forge Books

Summary

The "code of silence" remains sacred in Charlestown, one of the most historic and insular neighborhoods of Boston. Gangster Billy Malone stands accused of killing Trevor Shea, a suspected informant, with a potent dose of heroin. Prosecutor Annie Fitzgerald must crack the infamous code of silence and battle seasoned criminal defense attorney Buddy Clancy, who creates doubt with his penetrating cross-examinations. The trial explodes into a high-energy race to justice when Annie's chief witness is killed, jurors defy their instructions, and FBI cover-ups obscure the truth. Will justice prevail? Former prosecutor Margaret McLean combines the best of John Grisham's legal thrillers and Dennis Lehane's Boston crime novels in Under Oath, the follow-up to her gripping debut, Under Fire.

Author Biography

Margaret McLean was born and raised in Rome, New York. She graduated magna cum laude from Boston College and earned her law degree from Boston College Law School. McLean practiced law as a criminal prosecutor and currently teaches law at Boston College’s Carroll School of Management. In 2010, she was hailed as one of the next faces of Boston crime fiction by The Boston Globe. She has cowritten a dramatic courtroom play based on her second novel, Under Oath, which is in development with the Playwrights/Directors Unit at the Actors Studio in New York City. She lives in Norwell, Massachusetts, with her three children.

Table of Contents

Praise for Margaret McLean

 

“On your shelf of legal thrillers, move the Grishams aside and make room for Margaret McLean. She’s got all the knowledge of an insider and —more importantly—all the skills of a great storyteller. She’ll take you into the offices and the holding cells and the courtrooms, and you’ll believe every detail and nuance. Then she’ll start to heighten and tighten and twist and turn, and you won’t be able to put the book down. Go and read it.”
—William Martin, New York Times bestselling author of City of Dreams, on Under Fire

 

"McLean's first novel takes the reader on a terrific journey through the machinations of Boston law. Under Fire is a compelling legal thriller with vivid characters, a realistic feel to the proceedings, and a case that ignites our interest practically on the first page. McLean, a law professor and former criminal prosecutor, knows her stuff and, even better, knows how to translate it to fiction."

—Booklist

 

"Authentic and compelling, a reflection of McLean’s skill as a writer and her years as an assistant district attorney for Essex County."

—The Patriot Ledger on Under Fire

 

"This fast-paced debut legal thriller by a former criminal prosecutor offers an interesting immigrant twist. It should appeal to Richard North Patterson fans."
—Library Journal on Under Fire

Excerpts

1
 

Presentation of evidence before the Grand Jury of Suffolk County, Massachusetts, against William Joseph Malone. Murder indictment pending. November twenty-first.

“DO YOU SWEARto tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”
Please help me God.
“Miss?” the clerk said.
See nothing, hear nothing …
“Miss?” The clerk cleared his throat.
“I do.” Jennianne’s right hand trembled.Stop now, save yourself.She counted thirteen lint specks in the courtroom rug.
“Good morning.” Annie Fitzgerald’s voice carried across the room and seemed to hover in the air before it landed. Jennianne felt the intensity of the prosecutor’s Asian-shaped eyes without even looking at her. She was Fitzgerald’s star witness before the grand jury, which meant she had to break the code.
“Please introduce yourself to the ladies and gentlemen of the grand jury.” Fitzgerald sounded anxious.
Jennianne peeked through an opening in her yellow bangs, and examined row by row of wooden benches where the public usually sat. They were empty as Fitzgerald had promised. She glanced at the defense table.Empty, too. Thank God.She could never do this in front ofhim.Her gaze shifted to the right. Nothing but the dark paneled wall, the American flag, and the elevated judge’s bench. And to the left? She spotted the gold-fringed Massachusetts flag, and just beyond that … two rows of grand jurors, leaning forward, staring. She resumed counting specks in the rug.
“Please tell us your name.” Fitzgerald’s voice dropped an octave.
“Jennianne.”
“Okay. And your last?”
“Smith.” She finally made eye contact with Fitzgerald. Why did she have to be the one to do this? Couldn’t Fitzgerald find someone else? Why did they pick this case? Billy Malone would win. He always did.
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-eight.”Too young to die.
“Where do you live?”
Where do I live?No one was supposed to know about the safe house except Detective Callahan. Billy would find her and kill her. There were three rules of survival: You see nothing, you hear nothing, and you never talk to cops. Jennianne had broken all three.
“Just tell us where you’re from.”
“Charlestown.” Jennianne tried to connect with Fitzgerald by looking through her eyes and into her soul.You know he’s going to kill me. Please don’t make me do this. Please, please, please, Annie. Don’t.
“Do you recall November tenth of last year?” Fitzgerald kept her voice steady.
Jennianne knew Fitzgerald would forge ahead at all costs.Can’t you just leave me alone?She inhaled deeply and nodded.
“Miss, please respond with a verbal answer,” the judge said.
“Mmm hmm.” Jennianne’s mouth went dry; her tongue shriveled. “Yes.”
“Do you recall what you were doing at approximately seven P.M.?”
See nothing, hear nothing, never talk to cops.Jennianne shivered. Detective Callahan had tossed her in jail and forced her into this.Fitzgerald, too.Her gaze flickered across the rows of grand jurors. According to Callahan, she needed their votes. She closed her eyes and recalled his words as they drove from the safe house that morning: “If twelve or more vote in favor of an indictment, the case will go to superior court.”
“What if you don’t get twelve votes?” Jennianne had asked.
“We’ll end up with a ‘no bill,’ and if that happens, the complaint against Billy Malone will be dismissed.”
“He’d walk free?”
“Yup.”
“What’ll happen to me?”
Callahan had shrugged. “You’d go back to the projects.”
“But, he’ll kill me because he knows.”
“You’ll have to fend for yourself. So, if I were you, I’d do a real knock-up job today.”
“Jennianne?” Fitzgerald cleared her throat. “Shall I repeat the question?”
God help me.Jennianne opened her eyes, saw the grand jurors, and closed them again. She felt the sensation of cold air blowing across the nape of her neck, raising the tiny hairs. She pictured an emaciated Trevor Shea sitting behind that splintered easel of his, painting his life away. Ever since they were in first grade together with Sister Peg, Trevor had painted. What were you really doing all these years, Trev?
Without Jennianne’s voice, Trevor’s case would be tossed into that big box along with the rest of the unsolved murders. Fitzgerald had piled all those dead cases in a heap on the conference table in front of her.All twenty-six.
“What happened on November tenth?”
You killed yourself.
“Jennianne?”

 
Copyright © 2012 by Margaret McLean