Move to Strike

by Perri O'shaughnessy

  “You’re not here voluntarily today, are you, Mr. Rankin?” she started.

  “Lucky someone showed up to remind me of the subpoena. It somehow slipped my mind.”

  “Do you consider yourself something of an expert in opals and the geology of opal mining?” Rankin looked surprised. She was asking a reasonable question in a reasonable tone of voice. Maybe he had thought she’d backhand him again. She would have enjoyed it, since he had just caused the cops to ransack her office.

  “Mined Coober-Pedy for more years than I can count. Grew up around miners. I’m also a certified gemologist. Read a lot, but listen more. I reckon I know more than anyone else in this room about it.”

  “Tell us, Mr. Rankin,” Nina said, crossing her arms and pacing a little in front of the counsel table, “about your prospecting activities in northern Nevada. How long have you been prospecting for valuable minerals there?”

  “Eight years.”

  “Your land adjoined land you thought was owned by William Sykes, is that right?”

  “Yes,” Rankin said. “There was a sign on the property with the name Sykes and an address right up here in South Lake Tahoe.”

  “You recently contacted William Sykes about that land, didn’t you?”

  “Yes. I drove up to that address at the lake one day last spring and Sykes opened the door. We started talking. He said he owned the property with his wife and sister-in-law and he could make deals for all of them.”

  “What kind of deal did you discuss?”

  “I wanted to buy some mining rights. Or maybe form a joint venture to mine it.”

  “What happened then?”

  “He put me off.”

  “Why did you want these rights?”

  Rankin looked more sullen than Nikki.

  “It was because you had found black fire opals on that property, isn’t that right?”

  “I never . . .”

  Nina hurried on, “Without realizing you had strayed from your own property boundaries. Right?”

  Rankin’s spirits improved. “Right.”

  “Can you be more specific about when this discussion happened?”

  “Early May. A week before he died.”

  “Why wouldn’t Dr. Sykes sell the land to you?”

  “Calls for hearsay.” Henry spat it out. He was tired, hot, and bored. He had what he wanted. Now he wanted to go home, after making sure, of course, that Nina wasn’t going home.

  “Sustained.”

  “Did you tell him about the opals?”

  “Took eighteen of them to him and handed them over.”

  “And you told him their value?”

  “Roughly.” He smiled, and a metal tooth glinted. “I’m not stupid. These black opals aren’t the usual found in Nevada. It was my opinion they were uniformly less brittle and therefore very valuable, but I had no hard and fast information on that when I went to him. I just brought the opals and suggested they might be worth something.”

  “And did Dr. Sykes then or thereafter make an agreement with you regarding the opals?”

  “Yeah. But it wasn’t the agreement I wanted. The agreement was that I would keep quiet about the opal strike for at least a couple of months and stay off the land. He said he would give the opals to me in a couple of months if I did that.”

  At last Nina was making some progress. She had struggled desperately to get here. She felt as if she’d been swimming underwater under thick ice and finally found a hole back to the air. Now to climb out. She took a deep breath.

  “And did you leave the opals with him?”

  “I did. Then he got himself killed. And I don’t have my opals.”

  Nina brought him the cloth bag, freshly bedecked with its exhibit tags, and they all watched him take out the stones, one by one.

  “And are those the opals you brought Dr. Sykes?” Nina asked.

  He looked at them, exhaled, and said sourly, “Those are most of them.”

  She paused and studied Rankin. She had him on the stand. He had threatened Nikki, chased Bob; he had never been cooperative. She felt that he knew more, but what?

  He looked back at her. And showed his teeth in a grin. He just couldn’t help himself. And she knew, was absolutely positive now, that he had snowed her and Paul, had made himself a little hard to find, had let her pull a few things out of him.

  “Anything further?” Flaherty asked.

  “Just a moment, Your Honor.” She was mentally trying to make him for the murder. He knew the house; Sykes had his opals; who knew what else was true? What if he had come to the house after Nikki, rung the doorbell, gone into the study, and killed Sykes with the sword? Then left when he heard Daria?

  But there was no physical evidence, no fingerprints, no blood—the blood on the sword was probably Nikki’s . . .

  She had no more time. She had to get Daria on the stand but the thing that had been fulminating in her mind had reached a critical mass. Daria and Rankin came together in a mental explosion, leaving a cloudy but seductive thought.

  What if Rankin was Nikki’s father? That was the thought, and she was definitely losing her concentration and everything else—what was the even crazier thought? That if he was her father, wouldn’t his blood exhibit the third allele?

  “Mr. Rankin,” she said, “do you know, or have you ever known, Daria Zack, the mother of the defendant?” Rankin looked very surprised at this.

  She waited.

  “Never had the pleasure,” Rankin said. And she nodded urgently at Paul, who got up and went out to the hall where Daria was and came back in a second shaking his head. So Daria denied it too. She was on the wrong track. What had she expected?

  So she was crazy.

  But what about the allele?

  From Rankin and Daria to the allele—

  “Nothing further,” she said.

  “No cross,” Henry said, affecting extreme boredom.

  It was four o’clock. “Call Tim Seisz.”

  Deputy Kimura walked down the empty aisle to the door, opened it, and called out the name. Tim followed him back in, looking like a lean gray wolf in professor’s clothing, wearing his hiking boots.

  “You are a full professor at the University of Nevada in the Department of Geology, am I correct?”

  “That is correct.”

  “How long have you been a professor there?” Nina took him through his education and experience, which was impeccable. The best thing about Tim’s background, and the reason Nina had gone to him originally, was that Tim had been awarded his Ph.D. from the University of Southern California, where Flaherty had gone to law school. At this point, though, she doubted anything would help.

  “On June twenty-fourth, did you accompany me and Paul van Wagoner on a trip to a mining claim in the Nevada desert?”

  “I did. I confirmed our location with a United States Geological Map and I have also obtained copies of the claim registrations in the area, indicating names of the registrants.” Nina had both items marked as exhibits and after a few more questions and a shrug from Henry had them admitted as evidence.

  “Where did we go at that time?”

  “To this particular claim, located about a hundred miles northwest of Winnemucca. The sole claim holder is named Dennis Rankin.”

  “And what did you do there, at my instruction?”

  “Examined the contents of several buckets of rock samples Mr. Rankin was collecting from one of the rock walls on his property.”

  “Were you able to identify those samples?”

  “Yes. They were low-grade opaline rocks.”

  “Did you observe at that time any example of rocks which might be gem quality?”

  “No.”

  “What did you do then, again at my direction?”

  “Traveled to an adjoining claim.” Tim pointed to the map again, showing Grandpa Logan’s claim, and went on, “That land was originally owned by Beth Sykes and her sister Daria Zack, who have an undivided interest as tenants in common. M
y instructions were to examine the claim for evidence of high-grade opal rock. I did that, and within an hour located a ledge of bentonite beneath a volcanic extrusion which showed evidence of an ancient lava flow and a more recent landslide. I must say I was quite surprised. It was an entirely localized phenomenon and I have not been able to find any report of any prior examination of this area by a qualified geologist.”

  “What else, if anything, did you find?”

  “Evidence of recent digging in one of the walls. I chipped at the wall in the same area and found that the entire ledge at a depth about three feet above ground level and running horizontal for about seventy-five feet was rich in very high-grade rock. Because of the unusual geologic history of the rocks in that area, the opal rock that I was collecting had a rare feature.”

  “Which was?”

  “The color. It was a very rare color with a very rare quality of fire, known among gemologists as black fire opal. It has been found in Australia, and it has been found in a small valley about ninety miles from the claim I was examining called the Virgin Valley. Other than that, there has never been a major strike of black opals anywhere. Gem-quality black fire opals are incredibly rare. They are—”

  Henry broke in. “I really have to object on grounds of relevancy, Your Honor. I’m certainly learning interesting things from the professor’s rock lesson, but how is it going to keep counsel for the defense out of jail?”

  Before Flaherty could say anything, Nina said, “Just a few more questions, Your Honor.” Flaherty waved at her to go ahead, and she turned back to Tim and asked, “Professor Seisz, did I subsequently ask you to compare rock samples taken from the Zack claim with certain other rock samples I provided to you?”

  “You did.”

  “And you made that comparison?”

  “Yes.”

  “And do you have that second set of rock samples I gave you with you today?”

  Tim reached into the chest pocket of his sport coat and answered, “Right here. I’ve kept them with me ever since you gave them to me.” He pulled out the velvet bag Nikki had given Nina, enjoying the undivided attention he was getting, and shook the bag so that the rocks spilled into his hand. Flaherty leaned far to his right to look down on the rocks and the rest of them were craning their necks too.

  “Did you come to any conclusions with regard to the similarity or lack of similarity between the two samples in question?” Nina asked.

  “I did. I concluded that the rock samples are identical mineralogically. These opal rocks in the velvet bag you handed me come from the property in question. No doubt about it.”

  “Thank you. No further questions. Your witness.”

  “What would I ask him?” Henry said. “I have no idea why he’s even up there.” Tim left the stand and winked on his way out.

  “I will demonstrate the relevance of that testimony with the next witness,” Nina said. “I call myself.”

  Henry snorted and shook his head pityingly.

  Deputy Kimura made her raise her right hand and swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help her God or be found in contempt. Barbara gave her the stinkeye. Flaherty continued shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe the squirming he was witnessing.

  Nina stepped into the witness box and sat down. It was the first time she had ever testified in any proceeding. The courtroom from this vantage was quite different, ominous: everyone seemed to be facing her with accusatory eyes except for the judge above her and to the side, whom she couldn’t see at all. She was appalled at how nervous she felt.

  “My name is Nina Fox Reilly,” she said. “I am an attorney at law licensed to practice in the State of California with my primary offices located in the Starlake Building, South Lake Tahoe, California. I am attorney of record for Nikki Zack, the defendant in this case. On or about June twenty-second, my client handed me the velvet bag previously admitted into evidence as defendant’s exhibit two, containing the same stones which have just been shown to the court. I kept the bag with the stones on my person at all times until June twenty-four, when I placed them in the possession and custody of Professor Tim Seisz.

  “At the time she gave me these stones, my client advised that she had taken the bag with the stones from a box hidden in the swimming pool of the decedent, William Sykes, on May eighth, the night of his death, without his permission. As an officer of the court, and mindful of the current criminal investigation, I duly took pains to preserve the chain of evidence should they ever become evidence.”

  “Duly? Duly?! Stop right there!” said Henry. “You withheld evidence! And that’s pure hearsay, what the defendant told you!”

  “You’re free to object, Counsel,” Nina said. She sat back and waited to let Henry think about this. Nina had just testified that Nikki was at Sykes’s house on the night of the murder and had taken the opals from his swimming pool. It was a dazzling windfall for Henry. She hoped it was so dazzling that Henry wouldn’t see the point she was working toward, and wouldn’t object to bringing in Nikki’s hearsay statement.

  A couple of minutes went by, a couple of minutes she no longer had. Barbara was whispering with him and bringing him around. She was smarter than Henry. Maybe, by the time Nina got out of jail, they would be married with a couple of whippets for children.

  Henry folded his arms and said, “Well, I’m not going to object to the hearsay statement. It’s actually an admission. Withdraw my objection.”

  “Do you have any further testimony, Counsel?” This was said with chilling formality.

  “No, Your Honor.”

  “Then you may cross-examine,” Flaherty told Henry.

  “Your client advised that she had taken the bag from William Sykes’s pool, is that right?”

  “That is right.” Nina had never been so nervous. If she had committed a crime she would have confessed immediately. Hold the line, she told herself.

  “What, if anything, did she say regarding why she took the bag?”

  “Any such statement falls under the attorney-client privilege, which my client has chosen to exercise. Therefore I can’t answer.”

  “Oh, no,” Henry said. “Oh, no you don’t. You’ve opened the door. I have a right . . .”

  “I will answer questions regarding where my client obtained the opals. Other subjects are beyond the scope of the direct testimony and the privilege still applies,” Nina said. She was thinking, I sound like a robot. Good robot. Keep it up.

  “I request that the witness be instructed to answer the question,” Henry said, turning to Flaherty.

  “You don’t waive the privilege entirely by testifying with regard to one carefully circumscribed matter,” Nina said. “Henry can’t root around in all my communications with my client because I have made an essential and narrow disclosure as an officer of the court.”

  “Do you have some case precedent to aid me on this?” Flaherty said to both of them. He was thumbing through Jefferson’s Bench Book, the red bible used by all California judges and kept on the bench for reference. “Ah. The question is whether a significant portion of the communication has been disclosed.”

  “It certainly has,” said Henry.

  “But what does ‘significant’ signify?” Flaherty went on, still reading but apparently not finding out what he wanted to know, talking to himself. “We are now entering a dangerous side path without a map.”

  “But, Your Honor—” Nina said, half-standing in the box, but Flaherty steamrolled right over her.

  “The court will now rule on the privilege objection. The court rules that as to the particular conversation in which the defendant handed her counsel the evidence that has just been admitted, the attorney-client privilege has been waived. A significant portion of the conversation has been disclosed.” Flaherty pressed his lips together.

  “What?” Nina said. She couldn’t believe it. The whole conversation? What had Nikki said to her in that conversation? She had just reviewed all those notes, and i
t came at her in a rush. Nikki had said she was leaving Tahoe when the case was over, had talked about the scene in the woods and the decision not to notify the police—which dragged Bob in!—had talked about her grandfather’s claim, her financial problems, had said—what had she said?—“It was supposed to be fair pay for the land.”

  All the things she didn’t want Henry to know about were in that conversation. She felt as if she had walked out into a crosswalk on a green light and been hit without warning by a semi.

  Henry said, “Let’s have the reporter read back the pending question.”

  “What if anything did she say with regard to why she took the bag,” the reporter read in a monotone.

  “You are instructed to answer the question,” Flaherty said.

  “I can’t do that. My client asserts the attorney-client privilege as to the remainder of the conversation.”

  “Answer the question!” Flaherty barked, all hints of jolliness now buried under his naked anger.

  “I can’t do that, Your Honor. It wouldn’t be ethical.”

  Flaherty actually stood up and said, “You want to think about it overnight at the County Jail? Because you’re in contempt, do you hear, Counselor? I have made my ruling and you had better abide by it. This is my courtroom and I have made a ruling!”

  “I must respectfully submit that your ruling is wrong, Your Honor.”

  “I am citing you for contempt! Appeal it! But now, answer the question!” Flaherty shouted. He gripped the edge of the bench and his eyes blazed down at her and his voice was the voice of doom, but if she answered the question, Nikki’s defense would be hopelessly compromised.

  “Judge,” Nina said. “Find me in contempt if that’s what the Court is going to do, but the issues that brought us into court today are still pending. I request a separate hearing on the contempt citation. I request to argue the matters before the court today.”

  Flaherty seated himself again. “You’re right,” he said. “Argue your 995 motion. You have three minutes.”

  Three minutes! “Very well. The testimony regarding blood evidence on the sword must be stricken. There is no scientific conclusion that the blood sample matches that of the defendant. The testimony of Louise Garibaldi must be stricken in its entirety. She is incompetent due to her ingestion of controlled substances within one hour of observing the events about which she testified. Finally, although the defendant did go to the Sykes home on the night of the murder, the only thing missing from that property is the bag of opals, and it is clear from the testimony today that Dr. Sykes had no right of possession to those opals.