by John Bowers
“No. All I’m saying for sure is that he or she had to be at least seven feet away and probably less than fifty. But I can’t say with any certainty either way.”
“Thank you. Nothing further.”
“Mr. Crawford?”
“No more questions.”
Victoria glanced at her watch. Shit! Only eleven o’clock, and she was already halfway through her witness list.
“The Federation calls Agent Henry Majors.”
Henry Majors looked a lot like Sergeant Wellborn—beefy without being fat—and was about the same age. Dressed in slacks and shirtsleeves, with a badge attached to his belt but no uniform or weapon, he swaggered into the courtroom like the big dog in the neighborhood. Victoria remembered what David Jones had said about Lloyd Randal, that he was an “alpha dog”. In her mind, the same term could be applied to Majors.
He took the witness stand after being sworn in. Victoria walked him through his ID and work history.
“You’ve been with ACBI for how long?”
“Thirteen years.”
“Were you acquainted with Lloyd Randal?”
“Yes, I was. We were partners at one time, for about four years. We used to spend a lot of our down-time together, and our wives are friends.”
“It must have been quite a shock for you when he was killed.”
“Oh, man!” Majors shook his head slowly from side to side. “It was the worst day of my life.”
“I’m sorry for your loss. How did you learn of Agent Randal’s death?”
“I got a call from my AC that I was needed at a crime scene…”
“Excuse me. AC?”
“Agent in Charge. It’s a shorthand we use.”
“Got it. Please continue.”
“I wasn’t due at work until eight that morning, but the call came in on my pocket phone. They had a body that fell under our jurisdiction.”
“By ‘our’ jurisdiction, you are referring to ACBI?”
“Yes.”
“What did you do?”
“I left home immediately. They gave me the address after I was in my car, and I knew right away that I wasn’t going to like what I was about to find. It was Lloyd’s address.”
“Lloyd Randal?”
“That’s right. When I got there…”
He stopped, staring straight ahead. For a moment he didn’t move, but seemed to have difficulty breathing. After a moment, he sucked a deep breath and cleared his throat.
“Sorry. It’s still pretty fresh.”
“I understand. Take your time.”
Majors cleared his throat again, and continued.
“There wasn’t much I could do on the scene. The forensics folks were doing their magic and at that point we had no suspect. All I could do was try to comfort Danielle.”
“Danielle Randal? The victim’s wife?”
“Correct.”
“How was she taking it?”
“Not well. I guess she was in a state of shock. They had to take her to a hospital and sedate her.”
“What happened next?”
“I hung around the crime scene for maybe thirty minutes, then I went on to the office. Everything was in a buzz. It isn’t often that one of our own gets killed.”
“I’m sure it was difficult. What did you do next?”
“The AC called a powwow—a conference—and we tried to brainstorm to see if we could come up with a perp or a motive.”
“And were you successful?”
“Not right away. Lloyd was working on a number of cases, but none of them seemed to be of a nature that were likely to get him killed. So we started backtracking, trying to think of what old cases he had worked that might fit the picture.”
“And did you find something?”
“Yes. It took a couple of hours, but finally we landed on the Wallace Frie smuggling case from 0432.”
“What can you tell the jury about that case, Agent Majors?”
“Objection. Sidebar?”
“Approach.”
Victoria met Crawford at the foot of the bench. Van Wert turned off her sound system again and leaned over to confer.
“We talked about this in chambers, your Honor,” Crawford complained. “Details of the smuggling trial are prejudicial.”
“Your Honor, the jury needs to know why the ACBI zeroed in on the defendant and arrested him. They can’t know that without hearing about the previous trial.”
“Maybe so, your Honor, but it’s still prejudicial.”
Van Wert stared at each of them for several seconds.
“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. Miss Cross, limit the scope of your questions only to the fact that Mr. Frie threatened the victim’s life.”
“Allegedly,” Crawford said.
“Whatever. Just keep it at that, but do not discuss the previous trial beyond the charges involved. Can you pull that off?”
“Yes, your Honor.”
“Don’t piss me off, Miss Cross, or you’ll spend the rest of the week in a cell. Step back.”
Eyebrows raised, Victoria stepped back. All rightee, then, you underfed bitch!
Crawford returned to the defense table. Victoria stared at the jury for ten or twelve seconds without a word.
Letting them see her frustration.
She faced the witness again.
“Agent Majors, you indicated that Mr. Frie was a defendant in a previous trial.”
“Yes.”
“Without telling us any details about that proceeding, what was it about that trial that pointed you toward Mr. Frie as the man who killed Agent Randal?”
“I didn’t remember it, but several others did. There was testimony in that trial that the defendant had threatened Randal’s life.”
“Mr. Frie threatened Agent Randal’s life?”
“Yes.”
“And when was that?”
“Approximately twelve years ago.”
“What did you do then?”
“We ran a search on Mr. Frie to find out where he was now. He’d been off our radar for over a decade.”
“And what did you learn?”
“Wallace Frie was convicted in the first trial and went to prison. But he got out last October.”
“So you and your law enforcement colleagues concluded that Mr. Frie, upon being paroled from prison, had finally carried out his threat?”
“That was our working assumption, contingent on further investigation.”
“How did you proceed?”
“We contacted his parole officer and got an address. We obtained a search warrant and raided the halfway house where he was staying.”
“What did you find, if anything?”
“Mr. Frie had his own private room. Under the bed, we found a 9mm semi-auto and a box of 9mm rounds.”
“Were any bullets missing from the box?”
“Yes. The box held fifty rounds, but only forty were present.”
“What did that tell you?”
“The weapon had a ten-round clip, so we concluded that ten rounds had been taken from the box and loaded into the clip.”
“Was the clip still full?”
“No. It only held six rounds.”
“Meaning that four had been fired?”
“That was our theory, yes.”
“Could you tell if the gun had been fired recently?”
“It passed the smell test. Or, maybe it failed. However you look at it.”
“What is the smell test?”
“When a gun is fired, the smell of burned gunpowder lingers for a long time. Days, even weeks.”
“So it’s not a sure-fire test?”
“No, it isn’t scientific, but it’s a pretty good indicator. The stronger the smell, the more recently the weapon was fired.”
“How strong was the smell?”
“Powerful. Strong enough to give you a buzz.”
“So you concluded…?”
“It had most likely been fired a matter of hours b
efore we found it.”
“What did you do with the weapon?”
“I submitted it for fingerprint and DNA analysis. Then I turned it over to ballistics.”
“What did the fingerprint analysis determine, if anything?”
“Unfortunately, nothing. No prints or DNA were recovered. We assumed the gun had been wiped clean.”
“You said this was a halfway house. By that, are you referring to an establishment that provides residence for paroled convicts?”
“Yes.”
“Was Mr. Frie present at the time you found the gun?”
“No. He was at work.”
“And where did he work?”
“His parole officer told us he had a job with Rimrock Sanitation as a garbage collector.”
“Did that have any significance for you?”
Majors’ eyebrows lifted and he smiled.
“Yeah. We didn’t discover it right away, but it turned out that Lloyd Randal’s house was on Wallace Frie’s garbage route. He collected the trash there every week.”
“What, if anything, did you deduce from that?”
“It shot Wallace Frie to the top of our suspect list.”
“Did you interview any of the residents at the halfway house?”
“Yes. Three or four were working, but we eventually questioned them all.”
“Did they shed any light on the case?”
“No. They claimed they knew nothing about Frie having a gun. They all said they were shocked to learn about it, if you can believe them.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Well, they’re all ex-cons, so getting the truth out of them is like winning the lottery.”
“Objection.”
Victoria turned to face Crawford with a frown. Before she could speak, he enlightened her.
“The witness just characterized an entire class of people as liars, your Honor. I find that offensive.”
Victoria turned away before rolling her eyes. Judge van Wert seemed equally nonplussed.
“Mr. Crawford… If you find it offensive, then so be it, but save your objections for procedural issues. Overruled.”
Crawford sat down.
Victoria stepped over to the prosecution table and picked up a small red box. She turned back to the witness.
“Approach the witness, your Honor?”
“Go ahead.”
“Agent Majors, do you recognize the contents of this box?”
Majors gazed into the box and nodded.
“Yes. It looks like a 9mm semi-automatic.”
“Is this the same weapon you recovered from the halfway house?”
“It appears to be, yes.”
“Is there any way you can tell for sure?”
“I would have to take it out of the box.”
She handed him the box. He took it in both hands and laid it on his lap, then lifted the pistol out of it. As if by rote, he popped the clip and caught it in his left hand, then pulled the slide to clear the chamber. Victoria smiled.
“Don’t worry, Agent Majors, I made sure it was clear before I brought it in here.”
He grinned.
“Sorry. Just habit, I guess. There’s no such thing as an empty gun.”
“What, if anything, can you determine from the weapon?”
Majors turned it over and peered at the underside of the gun. He pointed at the trigger guard.
“See that scratch? Right there? I put that there with a screwdriver so I could ID the weapon if I saw it again.”
“So that mark, in your opinion, is proof that it’s the same weapon?”
“Yes. I could also check the serial number, but I don’t have it memorized.”
“Thank you. I can assure you that it is the same weapon I was given by your agency. Agent Majors, were you able to determine the ownership of this gun?”
“No. We ran the serial number but it had never been registered on this planet.”
“Could you determine when or where the gun was purchased?”
“Yes. It was sold in Barcelona, Spain, in March of 0401.”
“Barcelona, Spain? On Terra?”
“Yes. Forty-three years ago.”
“Were you able to determine where the weapon has been, or how it got to Alpha 2?”
“No. It was sold to a man named…” He pulled a note in his pocket. “…Guillermo Diego.”
“Did you contact Mr. Diego?”
“We tried, but it turns out that he died six years after the gun was sold, in 0407.”
“Did he still own the gun at the time of his death?”
“As far as we could determine, yes. But there was no data trail anymore. That gun just dropped off the radar until it turned up here.”
“You have no idea how it got here? Or who brought it here?”
“None.”
“Thank you. Your Honor, I would like to enter this gun into evidence as Federation Exhibit 1.”
“Very well. So ordered.”
Before Victoria could ask another question, van Wert glanced at the clock.
“It’s close enough to noon, so let’s break for lunch,” she said. “The jury is reminded not to discuss the case or form any opinions. I assume the witness can return for the afternoon session?”
Majors nodded. “Sure, your Honor.”
“Very well. Court reconvenes in ninety minutes.”
She banged the gavel, and it was time for lunch.
Chapter 28
70th Floor, Federation Building – Lucaston, Alpha Centauri 2
The Federation Building contained five commissaries, one for every fifteen floors. The nearest was located on the 70th floor, just one level below the courtrooms. Victoria took her lunch there, accompanied by Nancy Swift, Anderson Gabel, and Gary Fraites. Employees from various agencies queued up at the buffet line as they walked in.
“Hold my place, will you?” Victoria said to Nancy. “I have to make a couple of calls.”
Victoria headed for the ladies room and pulled out her pocket phone. She called Doug Hitlin.
“Hey, Vic! How’s the trial going?”
“It’s going well so far, but it’s also going fast. I have another job for you.”
“Great! What is it?”
“I need complete backgrounds on two individuals. And I need them right away.”
“How right away?”
“By the end of the day.”
“Okay. Who are they?”
She gave him the names.
“I don’t think you’ll find criminal records, but I need bank and employee records.”
There was silence on the other end.
“Doug? Did I lose you?”
“No, I’m here.” He sounded concerned. “I just don’t know if I can pull this one off. I can get the bank records easy enough, but the employee records are in a government database. That’s a little harder.”
“I’ll pay you triple for your time.”
“Jesus, Vic! Don’t you need a warrant for this stuff? Or a subpoena? If I get caught, I could lose my license, maybe even go to jail.”
“I’m a Federation prosecutor. If I don’t press it, then it goes nowhere.”
“Is that even ethical?”
“Right this minute, I don’t care. I need the information. If it comes back damning, I’ll verify it through other channels. No innocent people will be harmed.”
He took another moment to decide, then sighed audibly.
“Okay. I’m trusting you to protect me on this.”
“You’re in good hands. Message me as soon as you have the data.”
She disconnected and headed back to the dining room.
“The trial seems to be going well, Vic,” Anderson Gabel told her when they were seated at a table. “But it seems to be moving pretty fast.”
“Faster than I anticipated,” she agreed. “There’s a good chance I’ll use up all my witnesses this afternoon.” She smiled. “You told me it was a slam-dunk. Looks like you were rig
ht.”
75th Floor, Federation Building – Lucaston, Alpha Centauri 2
Victoria was back at her desk when her pocket phone rang. It was a quarter after one.
“Victoria Cross.”
“Hi, Miss Cross. It’s Officer Benedict.”
She felt her gut tighten at the sound of his voice. Was this good news, or bad?
“Hi. Is everything okay?”
“No, Ma’am, not really. We’ve had to issue a want for our boy.”
“Whistler? What happened?”
“Two nights ago, he accosted two women in the University District. Same MO as he used on you, showed a knife and demanded money.”
“Oh, no.”
“Afraid so. But this time he was more careful. He must have learned from you that sometimes women fight back, so he actually stabbed one of them.”
Victoria closed her eyes in horror. She didn’t want to hear the rest…but she had to.
“It wasn’t fatal,” Benedict said. “The lady got medical attention in time, but he’s escalating. If we don’t find him soon, he may actually kill someone. Anyway, I wanted to give you a heads-up.”
“Are we sure it’s the same perp?”
“Pretty sure. Both women described him to a T, and he left DNA on one of them.”
“Oh, no-no-no! Don’t tell me he raped one of them?”
“No, I don’t think he’s quite brave enough for that yet, but he’s working on it. He stabbed one woman and then took some liberties with the other. Fortunately, all he did was kiss her all over the face, which is still sexual assault; but in so doing he left saliva, and we have a positive DNA match.”
“Okay…”
“Watch your back, Miss Cross. I still don’t know that he’ll come after you, but you need to be alert until we get him.”
Victoria nodded, staring out the window.
“Thank you, Officer Benedict. Keep me posted.”
71st Floor, Federation Building – Lucaston, Alpha Centauri 2
Court resumed promptly at one-thirty. Agent Majors returned to the witness stand.
“The witness is still under oath,” van Wert reminded him. “Proceed when ready, counselor.”
“Thank you, your Honor.”
Victoria strolled toward the witness box and stopped six feet away. Majors grinned at her, waiting.
“Agent Majors, you said you submitted the suspected murder weapon for fingerprint and DNA testing.”