“Sure thing,” Doug said, trading a glance with his sister, who smiled and patted his hands.
“Right now, since we have Robert here with us this morning, why don’t we start with him?” William turned to Robert. “Were you successful in finding that old scrapbook you told us about?”
“Yeah, I was.” Robert reached underneath the table and brought out a leather briefcase, which he set on the polished oak tabletop. He flipped open the locks. “I tore the attic apart looking for it, but I found it. I don’t think it’ll do you much good though. All I found was some old photographs and receipts.”
“It might help,” William said.
Robert opened the briefcase and took out two sheafs of bundle-wrapped photos, pushing them across the table to William Grecko. “I’ve attached post-it notes to them and tried to identify as many of the people as I could remember,” he said. “The ones I couldn’t remember I tried to name by relating who they used to hang out with. I know that might not help much since my mom had all kinds of people at the house during that time, but the bulk of these photos were taken with a camera I got for a Christmas present that I never used. My brother, Rudy, took a shine to it though, and he used it a bunch of times, and one of our mother’s boyfriends used it, too.”
“So this film was developed?” Jessie asked as William began poring through the first batch of photos.
“Oh, yeah,” Robert said. “It was developed soon after they were taken.”
“And what happened to them in the months after they were taken?”
“They got thrown into a briefcase I had when I was in high school,” Robert explained. “Rudy used to keep all kinds of stuff in it, especially if he wanted to hide it from Raul. He had the combination for the lock.”
“And when you left home shortly before Raul was murdered, you took the briefcase with you?”
“That’s correct.”
William paused and put on his reading glasses. He peered at a group of photos inquisitively. “So that would explain why they were never found when the police initially searched the house in the original investigation.”
“I would think so,” Robert said, leaning forward. “I’d forgotten all about them by then. I mean ... the only thing I could think about at the time was Raul and what had happened to him.”
“Of course.” William was studying the photos closely, flipping through them one at a time. “No time stamp on them of course, but you and Rudy are willing to swear under oath that the photos in question were taken between December 1976 and June 1977, correct?”
“That’s correct.”
“The clothing and hairstyles of these people will certainly help pinpoint when they were taken,” Jessie said. She’d gotten up from her seat and was peering over William Grecko’s shoulder, looking at the photos. “I haven’t seen such bad hair and clothes since the seventies.”
“Jen, are you getting this?”
Jennifer nodded. The tape recorder was out, the Record button pressed. William regarded everybody in the room; three days ago they all consented to having this conversation recorded and now they all nodded, indicating they were aware they were being taped.
“Okay,” William said, viewing the pictures slowly. “I am viewing a set of photographs, one of approximately...” He counted through the stack of bundled photos with his index finger. “...seven stacks that were taken between December 25, 1976 and mid June of 1977, the exact date which is still unknown. Robert Valesquez, older brother of the victim, Raul Valesquez, indicated in deposition to both the DA and the Prosecution on July 2, 2005, that the camera was given to him as a Christmas gift from one of his mother’s boyfriends. The camera in question was in heavy use during those six months, primarily by the middle brother, Rudy. The pictures were then developed and eventually stored in a briefcase owned by Robert. Robert moved out of the house briefly after school let out in June of 1977 to live with a friend, taking the briefcase with him, along with his other belongings.” He looked at Robert. “Is that correct?”
“That is correct,” Robert said.
“Why were these photos never mentioned in the original case, Mr. Valesquez?”
“I forgot about them,” Robert said, matter-of-factly. “I didn’t really know they were in the briefcase.”
“Who gave you the briefcase, Mr. Valesquez?”
“I don’t remember. It must have been an uncle.”
“Did you use it at all during the time period in question?”
“No.”
“Did anybody use the briefcase during the time period in question?”
“My brother, Rudy.”
“What did Rudy use it for, Mr. Valesquez?”
“He used it for stuff.” Robert shrugged. “To keep his homework, his comic books...stuff he didn’t want Raul to get a hold of.”
“Why was that?”
Robert chuckled. “Raul tended to get into stuff that wasn’t his and tear it up.”
“I see,” William said. He finished with the first bundle of photos and was now starting in on the second one. Jessie Archer took the first stack and returned to her chair. She began looking through them with Doug. Robert had looked at the photos himself a few days ago. They were primarily uneventful: shots of the kids horsing around in the house, of his mother’s friends lounging on the sofa drinking beer and watching TV; Raul playing with Duke, a German Shepard that belonged to one of his mother’s boyfriends. If you studied the photos closely though, you could see dysfunction; their mother, who’d been very attractive with long dark hair, hugging different guys, kissing them; posing drunkenly; in some she was passed out on the floor drunk. In some photos there was drug paraphernalia in the background in plain view.
William Grecko addressed Robert: “Were you aware Rudy was using your briefcase to hide his possessions from Raul?”
“Yes.”
“Did you allow him to put his possessions in your briefcase because you felt they would be safe from Raul?”
Robert twirled his thumbs. “I don’t know. I didn’t think of it that way. I had no use for either the camera or the briefcase at that time in my life, and when Rudy asked for them I just told him he could use them.”
“But you did not give these items to him, correct?”
“That is correct.”
“So when you moved out of the house that summer, you took all of your belongings with you, including the briefcase?”
“Yes.”
“Did you say anything to Rudy about taking the briefcase when you left?”
“I did,” Robert said, the memory coming back to him in fits and starts. “I remember thinking I might need it because I had the grand idea I was going to drop out of school and go into business for myself. So I told Rudy I was taking it. He said he wasn’t using it anymore anyway, and I just assumed he’d taken everything out of it.”
“What did you find when you finally opened it?”
“I only opened it six weeks ago,” Robert said.
“You waited over twenty-eight years to open this briefcase?”
Robert nodded. “That is correct.”
“Why did you wait so long?”
Robert shrugged. “I have no idea. I hung on to the thing. It had sentimental value, I suppose. But for some reason, I just never opened it.”
“Was the briefcase in your possession during your stint in the military?”
“It was among the possessions I had that were put in storage during my first four years of duty.”
“And then?”
Robert shrugged. “To tell you the truth, I forgot about it during my first four years in the Navy. When I saw it again, it was like looking at an old family heirloom you cart around everywhere. So...I just took it with me.”
“In all that time did you ever wonder what was in it?”
“I just figured it had some of Rudy’s old school papers and comic books in it.”
“So you thought that by not opening it you would preserve the value of the comic books so you
could sell them for inflated prices on the collectors market?” William grinned at this and there was some laughter around the room. Robert smiled at the joke. Only Jennifer appeared to not get it.
“Not at all,” Robert said, grinning. “I just...I dunno, I just didn’t think about opening it until lately.”
“What did you find when you opened it?”
“The scrapbook that is now on this desk.”
“Did that scrapbook contain anything?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“Pictures.”
“What pictures, Mr. Valesquez?”
“I looked through them and they were photos Rudy took with the camera.”
“And can you again indicate for the record the time period when your brother, Rudy, was so smitten with amateur photography and taking pictures with this particular camera?”
“My brother, Rudy, took a shine to this camera on Christmas Day, 1976, when I received it as a gift,” Robert began. “He and I took a few photos with it for a few days, then he took over its use for about six months. He bought film for it and took pictures with it at the house between late December of 1976 until about mid June of 1977.”
“Did he ever take photos away from the proximity of the house?”
“No.”
William Grecko continued to look through the photos. When he was finished with each stack, he passed them on to Jessie and Doug Archer, who scrutinized them closely. Robert watched them poring over the photos. To him, those photos meant nothing. Even though his brother had taken them and they contained the last known images of his mother, he had no sentimental feelings for them. For the most part, he had no sentimental feelings towards his immediate family.
It took them fifteen minutes to go through the photos. When they were done, William nodded to Doug and Jessie. “Do you notice anything about these photos?”
“I’m not in any of them,” Doug said, looking at William.
“No shit, you’re not in any of them,” Jessie said, slapping the last bundle down on the table. “That’s because you were never there!”
“Pages four hundred and fifty-seven through five hundred and twenty-eight of the original criminal trial transcript of the State of California versus Douglas Archer for the kidnapping and murder of Raul Valesquez details testimony given by Eva, Rudy, and Robert Valesquez that Douglas Archer was a frequent visitor to their home for about eight months prior to Raul disappearing,” Williams stated, clearly speaking for the record for today’s meeting. “In addition, pages four hundred and twenty-six, three hundred and seventy-eight, and two hundred and eleven through fifteen, we have further witness testimony from—” William ruffled through some papers, peering over his glasses. “—Louis McWiggin, David Bartell and Craig Menendez, in which they claimed to have seen Douglas at the house in the time period specified. Furthermore, according to the original trial transcripts and depositions and the original criminal complaint, it was brought forth that Douglas visited the Valesquez house several times a week, often staying for hours at a time, for the purpose of buying drugs and soliciting sex from Eva Valesquez.”
“Bullshit then, bullshit now,” Jessie said. Robert caught a brief glimpse of her out of the corner of his eye when she said this; she looked ready to tear into somebody.
William looked up at the people present in the room. “The DA will attempt to explain why Douglas is not in any of these photos, and I’m sure they will all be reasons that can seem plausible to the average layman. However, with Robert and Rudy’s testimony we now have physical proof.” He looked at Douglas Archer. “Douglas never was a visitor to the Valesquez house. He’d never heard of them, never knew them. Isn’t that true, Douglas?”
Doug nodded. He looked nervous. “That’s right.”
William turned to Robert. “You testified at the original trial that Douglas was at the house.”
Robert shook his head. “No. I said I didn’t know, but that I thought he could have been there.”
“You thought he could have been there. You didn’t know?”
“That’s right.”
“But you did say it was possible he could have been there?”
“Yes.”
“Why was that?”
“My mom had all kinds of people there,” Robert said, the first tinge of disgust creeping into his voice. “If she wasn’t fucking them, she was getting them high and drunk. There were people coming in and out at all hours of the night. It got to the point they all started to look the same to me. There were so many people that came to the house it was hard for me to tell them apart.”
William was flipping through the original court transcript. He held it up in front of him and began to read. “You said here, and I quote, ‘Doug looked like a lot of the guys that came to the house to see my mom.’ And when the DA asked you to identify all the people that were in court that day who had been at your house, the only person you could positively identify was Doug.” William took off his glasses and looked at Robert. “Do you still stand by that accusation?”
“No.” Robert stated this firmly, unequivocal.
“Why not?”
“I’ve had over twenty years to think it over,” Robert said. “And...looking back through those pictures really helped jog my memory.”
Doug and Jessie Archer bore looks of vindication. For the first time since Robert met him, Doug looked relaxed, as if all the tension had lifted off of him. “I was never at that house,” Doug said. “Those pictures prove it. I don’t care what the DA says. If Mr. Valesquez and his brother, Rudy, testify that the photos depict typical gatherings, then there’s no way I could be capable of this crime because I was never at the house as the prosecution alleged. I never hung out there and I was not into drugs or women.”
“No, you weren’t into women,” William said. He began to gather the photos back into their neat little piles. “But you were into men—the prosecution will allege you were into young boys. They can bring up those old phone records which played such a big part in the original case.”
“And all I have to say about that is what I said originally,” Doug said, adamant now. “I was confused, I was nervous...I was...trying to find myself...and calling phone numbers that I found on bathroom walls...that was the only way I knew how to find other men like me.”
“I know that,” William said. “And you know that. If this case goes to trial again though, we’ll have to convince twelve jurors of that.”
“Do you think they’ll re-file the charges?” Jessie asked. She was all business, her manner direct and to the point.
“Anything is possible.” William paused, took a sip of water from the glass on the table. “A task-force has been formed and re-opened the case. Unless they find new evidence pointing to another suspect, they will be forced to examine the same evidence that led them to Douglas twenty-eight years ago. Should that happen, we’ll be armed with enough proof to dismantle their case before the prosecutors decide to re-file charges.”
“They know about these pictures, though,” Robert said. When the DA called Robert three weeks ago to tell him the case was being re-opened, Robert combed through personal belongings in an attempt to help their case. He’d come across the briefcase at that time, inspected its contents, and told the DA about it, the seeds of doubt now planted.
“True,” William nodded. He began placing the bundles of photos back in the briefcase. “And they let me know of their existence immediately. There’s still no reason to believe they might decline to re-file the charges. We have to expect the worst.”
Jessie turned to Robert. Her eyes were blue, icy, penetrating. “You’ll still be willing to help us in our defense?”
Robert nodded. “Yeah.” He had volunteered to testify for the defense last week after serious contemplation. The more he thought about those photos and relived those memories, the more he began to realize Douglas Archer could not have killed his brother.
There was the faint sense of some of the pressure be
ing taken off Jessie’s shoulders. She nodded, the beginnings of a smile of gratitude on her lips. “Thank you,” she said.
Doug was looking at him now, hound dog eyes bearing a sense of extreme thanks. “I don’t know how I can thank you, Mr. Valesquez.”
“It’s okay,” Robert said, raising his hand to stop him. “I’m only sorry this happened to you in the first place. If I...if my judgment back then hadn’t been so clouded by anger and grief, my memory wouldn’t have been as messed up.”
“There’s something about the investigation that bears strong relation to what you just said, Jessie,” William said.
The three of them turned to the attorney. “What’s that?” Jessie asked.
William sat back in his chair, regarding them pensively. “We’re following the investigation’s progress very closely. There’s one team back-tracking through the original case file, which is something that is standard procedure. This time there’s a completely different team looking at Raul and the activities at the Valesquez house.”
Robert frowned. “What are you saying?”
William looked at Robert. “Please don’t misunderstand what I’m about to say. I mean you no harm in it, and I’m not insinuating that your family was in any way responsible for Raul’s death ”
“You’re goddamned right they’re not!”
“No, they’re not,” William said. For the first time since meeting him, Robert felt an instant dislike toward the lawyer. He suddenly seemed to represent everything he hated about lawyers; pompous, over-confident. “But they are questioning Raul’s friends, at least those they can locate. They seem to be interested in Raul’s criminal activity and those of his friends.”
“You think the shit Raul was involved in had something to do with this?” Robert asked.
“It’s possible.”
Robert studied William Grecko’s features, trying to get a read on him. He felt the man was telling the truth. He knew Raul had been a troubled kid—Robert had had a hard time dealing with him when he was living at the house. He’d tried to get Rudy to pay more attention to Raul, provide some guidance, but Rudy was already starting to slip away by then. There’d been no choice for Robert but to leave for the military, especially after Raul was killed. He’d tried to convince Rudy to move out to Arizona with him prior to his enlistment but their mother refused. She’d even threatened to have Robert arrested for kidnapping if he took Rudy out of the house, and Robert finally stormed out. Fine, he’d said. I’m out of here. You can fuck his life up just like you fucked up yours and Raul’s, but you’re not fucking up mine. Then he’d gotten into his ’68 Camaro and gotten the hell out and never looked back.
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