Double Tap

by Steve Martini

  “And that was the case in this instance?”

  “Yes.”

  “When you fired these test rounds, did you notice any difference or variation in the recoil of the firearm when the silencer, the suppressor, was on the weapon as opposed to when it was not?”

  The witness smiles from the stand.

  “Your Honor, I’m going to object,” says Templeton. “Exceeds the scope of direct.”

  “Your Honor, the state opened the issue of test shots in the lab to confirm ballistics. I think we have a right to explore the area.”

  “I’m going to allow the question. You can answer,” says Gilcrest.

  “Yes. There was a marked difference in the recoil with the suppressor on the weapon as opposed to not having it on.”

  “Perhaps you can explain to the jury what recoil is,” I say.

  “It’s the rebounding effect of a firearm as it is discharged. Law of physics: for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.”

  “Is this commonly known by people who shoot as ‘kick’? That when they shoot a pistol or a rifle, they might say it ‘kicks’?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can you tell the jury how much kick, how much recoil, the forty-five automatic, that gun on the table, People’s exhibit six, produced when you fired the test shots.”

  “I didn’t measure recoil,” he says.

  “But, since you had a chance to shoot the firearm both with the suppressor, the silencer, mounted on the weapon as well as without it, which way produced the most recoil?”

  “Without the suppressor.”

  “So there was more kick without the suppressor than there was when the silencer was mounted on the gun?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “Can you give us an approximation as to how much less?”

  “It was noticeable,” he says.

  “Isn’t it a fact that there is literature, data, to support the proposition that recoil is reduced by as much as thirty percent through the use of a silencer on a handgun?”

  “That sounds about right.”

  “Is it true that the silencer, especially on a large handgun, acts as a muzzle brake?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can you tell the jury what a muzzle brake is?”

  “It’s a device that can be applied, attached, to both pistols and rifles that serves to dispel some of the physical forces that produce recoil.”

  “Usually attached to the end of the barrel, right?”

  “Not always. Sometimes,” he says.

  “But in this case the attachment of that silencer to that pistol”—I point to the table where both items are on display in front of the jury—“served not only to suppress the sound of the shots fired but also to reduce recoil, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Would the reduction of recoil generally produce more accuracy—”

  “Not necessarily.”

  “Let me finish my question.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Would the reduction of recoil generally produce or permit more accuracy in the firing of a second shot that is fired within close proximity to an initial or first shot—say, where the shots are fired within a millisecond of each other?”

  He looks at me, thinks about this. “Ah. Yes. That would probably be the case.”

  “And it wouldn’t matter whether the shooter was an expert marksman or a novice: the application of that silencer to that weapon by the reduction of recoil would serve to steady and make more accurate the second shot regardless, would it not?”

  The question seems to produce a little nervous tic in the witness’s left eye; the lid flickers a couple of times. “Yes. I suppose that’s true.”

  “Let me ask you about the two different types of bullets used in this case: the solid lead bullet and the frangible bullet. Were you able to determine that the frangible bullet was actually fired from that gun, the one in evidence, the Mark Twenty-three?” I point toward the table.

  “No.”

  “So the only bullet that allowed you to make a definitive identification as to the firearm used was the solid lead bullet?”

  “That’s correct.”

  “And if, as in this case, the killer, the shooter or shooters—”

  “Objection: assumes a fact not in evidence.”

  “Overruled.” Gilcrest splits the hair and comes down on my side.

  “If, as in this case, the perpetrator took the time to collect the spent brass and take it with him or dispose of it so that the police couldn’t find it, as was done here—and if, just assuming, two frangible bullets had been fired instead of a frangible and a solid bullet—it would have been impossible to trace the bullets that killed Madelyn Chapman to that particular weapon, wouldn’t it?”

  The witness mulls this over, offers an expression of concession, nodding his head slightly. “That’s … that’s true.”

  “So, by using a solid round, the killer made sure that your laboratory would be able to trace the bullet that killed Madelyn Chapman to that weapon, isn’t that true?”

  “No. He took the chance that we would be able to trace the round to that firearm. It was always possible that the lead bullet could have been sufficiently damaged in firing that it would have been unusable for ballistics comparison.”

  “Yes, but if he’d used a frangible round instead of the solid round, he would have made sure it couldn’t be connected to that handgun, isn’t that true?”

  Grudgingly he nods. “Yes.”

  “That’s all I have, thank you.”

  “Redirect.” Templeton is off his chair and on his feet. He scrambles to the stool, pulls it out from under the rostrum, and mounts it almost in a single motion.

  “Is there any evidence, any ballistic evidence, that the silencer was used during the commission of the murder of Madelyn Chapman?”

  “No. Not that I’m aware of.”

  “So it’s entirely possible that the handgun in question was used for the commission of this crime without that silencer attached, is that not correct?”

  “Yes. That’s possible.”

  Templeton has a problem: the noise of the two shots that killed Chapman. If any of the neighbors heard them, the cops would have a more definitive fix on the time of death. They don’t. He goes to work on this.

  “Can you tell the jury, how loud is that handgun?” He points to the pistol on the table.

  “Suppressed or unsuppressed?”

  “Objection: the witness is not a sound and noise expert.”

  “I’m not asking for scientific measures,” says Templeton, “only as to within his common experience, having fired the weapon.”

  “I’ll allow it,” says Gilcrest.

  “Without the silencer, is that handgun, in your opinion, loud?”

  “It’s quite loud.”

  “Did you have to wear ear protection when you conducted the test firing of the weapon?”

  “I did.”

  “Do you know—can you tell the jury—in your opinion, would it be possible for shots fired from that pistol inside of a house on the ocean, perhaps with the noise of the surf in the background, to be heard in adjoining houses or on the street?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Objection: calls for a conclusion beyond the expertise of this witness.”

  “Sustained.”

  Templeton fumes, then tries again. “Assuming the shots were fired in rapid succession,” says Templeton, “two of them: would they be distinct as gunshots to someone, say, situated inside another house perhaps a hundred feet away, with several walls in between?”

  “Same objection, Your Honor.”

  “Your Honor, the witness has fired thousands of test rounds; he has years of experience firing handguns, all kinds of firearms. He knows what they sound like inside of a building and out—and whether two shots fired in rapid succession are likely to be recognized as that: two distinct gunshots. That’s all I’m asking.” Templeton makes it sound like a plea.r />
  “I’ll allow the witness to answer that narrow question,” says the judge. “Would two shots fired in quick succession be distinguishable as gunshots outside a house under the conditions specified by counsel?” Gilcrest has a finger shaking at the witness.

  “In my opinion—in my experience—it’s possible that they would not. They would probably sound like muffled pops.”

  “Is there a reason for that, within the realm of ballistics?” says Templeton.

  “Yes. The fact that the forty-five automatic pistol is subsonic has a dampening effect on the sound. There are two factors affecting noise as regards gunfire, one being muzzle blast and the other the supersonic crack of the bullet as it breaks the sound barrier. The second factor is not present with a forty-five automatic.”

  “Thank you,” says Templeton.

  “Mr. Madriani,” says Gilcrest. “Anything more?”

  “Very briefly, Your Honor.” I take the rostrum.

  “Did you examine the bore of the sound suppressor, the silencer, in evidence in this case before you fired your test rounds through it?” I ask the witness.

  “I did.”

  “And did you find any gunpowder residue inside the bore of the suppressor when you examined it, before you fired it?”

  “Yes, I did. There was residue in the bore of the suppressor.”

  “Wouldn’t that indicate that it had been used?”

  “Yes. But there was no way to tell when it was used. It’s possible that it was used the day of the murder. It’s also possible that it was used on some prior occasion and put back in the bag without being cleaned. There was no way to determine how much residue was present or how long it had been there.”

  The witness takes back a sizable portion of what he has given.

  “Was there any rust in the bore?”

  “No. Not that I could see.”

  “Wouldn’t there be some signs of rust inside the bore if the gunshot residue had been left inside the bore for any length of time?”

  “Not necessarily. It would depend on the conditions of storage.”

  “One final question. If the handgun, that handgun, was used with the silencer attached during the commission of this crime, would anyone outside of the Chapman residence, in your opinion, have been able to hear the two shots that killed her?”

  He swallows a little, then looks up at me. “No.”

  “Where did you learn about recoil and suppressors as a muzzle brake?” Ruiz chews on a sandwich from the vending machine, the plastic wrapper on the table under his hand as we talk across the small stainless-steel table in the holding cell.

  “I read a lot,” I tell him. “I’ve been educated by other lawyers who have laid waste to me because they knew more than I did. And on occasion I’ve learned the hard way: by clients who have lied to me. Just as you have.”

  He stops chewing and looks up at me directly in the eyes.

  “What are you saying?”

  “That you didn’t tell us the truth about the rounds in the case. You knew they were frangible, didn’t you?”

  “I told you this morning: I forgot they were there.”

  “No, you knew they were there. Where did they come from? Tell me. It’s too late to play games. Who gave them to you?”

  “Like I said, they were issued in the Army.”

  “Not to just anybody, they weren’t. Where did you get them? Why were they issued to you?”

  “For training,” he says. “I told you it’s what I did. I trained other soldiers. We did a lot of shooting in shooting houses.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Situational stuff,” he says. “Listen, trust me, you don’t need to know. It doesn’t have anything to do with this, with Chapman or Isotenics or any of this.”

  “It does now. Templeton is bearing down on you. He’s established that the rounds were purchased by the Army.”

  “That’s true.”

  “He’s going to prove that you were in the Army and that the gun in question was issued to you.”

  “So it would make sense that the bullets would be in the bag with the gun, right? You made the point,” he says. “Answered my question, the one I asked this morning. I think the jury is starting to understand what’s happening here.”

  “Good. Then they’re a leg up on me,” I tell him.

  “Listen, you gotta believe me. I didn’t kill her. I had no reason to kill her.”

  “Templeton hasn’t gotten to that yet, but you can believe that he’s working his way there.”

  “The reason the killer used the solid round,” he says, “is because he needed to tie that bullet to my gun. It’s the frame-up. You made the point in court. Crystal clear,” he says. “The jury is getting the picture. I know they are.”

  “Listen, if you start trying to mind-meld with a jury, guessing what’s going on behind twelve sets of eyes, you’re likely to get the shock of your life when they come back with a verdict. What they heard today is that that bullet, the one that exploded inside Chapman’s head, was purchased for use by the Army. Before he’s finished, Larry Templeton is going to take that fractured bullet and sprinkle bread crumbs all the way from the tiniest piece right to your doorstep unless you tell me what’s going on.”

  “Nothing,” he says. “Nothing’s going on. I’ve told you everything I know about Chapman. I don’t know who killed her or why. All I know is she was scared.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  With Sims holding us at bay at Isotenics, Templeton would like to wrap up the case before damaging evidence has a chance to erupt from that quarter. Harry may be gloomy concerning a decision from the court of appeal, but at this point Templeton is in the dark as much as we are. If there is anything explosive sitting in Chapman’s files or on her computer, that dam could burst at any moment.

  Templeton doesn’t waste any time. In the afternoon he does what I have expected: he keeps it linear and goes for the jugular.

  Major Hammon Ellis is an officer assigned to the Pentagon in Washington. Part of his duties involve custody of military records for small arms as well as firearms training at several military posts. One of these is Fort Bragg, North Carolina, Emiliano’s last assigned duty post.

  Ellis sits bolt upright in the witness chair. He is decked out in his dress uniform, gold oak leaves on the epaulets of his jacket. He is working from a manila folder in his lap, shuffling papers and identifying forms maintained by DOD to keep track of government small arms, pistols, rifles, and automatic weapons and to identify the soldiers to whom they are assigned.

  Templeton makes quick work of the chain of possession on the murder weapon.

  “Heckler and Koch Mark Twenty-three forty-five-caliber semiautomatic.” The witness is looking at a folder with several sheets of paper. “Yes, our records show that model with the serial number as stated shipped to Fort Bragg, North Carolina, on the date indicated on the form.”

  Copies of this have been handed to us, and Templeton moves the form into evidence. Without objection he nods toward his computer tech and suddenly the form in question appears on the screen for the jury to view.

  “Your Honor, I would ask the court to take notice that the serial number on the weapon as set forth on this form is the same as that serial number on the handgun identified and marked as People’s exhibit six. The Heckler and Koch Mark Twenty-three forty-five-caliber semiautomatic pistol. In order to save time and avoid confusion, with the court’s permission we will refer to the exhibit number with regard to the other forms rather than the serial number.” Templeton wants no mistake in the minds of jurors on this point. The firearm the witness is talking about is the murder weapon.

  “Any objection, Mr. Madriani?”

  “No, Your Honor.”

  Templeton turns back to the witness. “Then let me ask you, is that an accurate copy of the original form in your file?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Can you tell the jury what that form represents? What it
shows?”

  “That the firearm in question, what you have identified as People’s exhibit six, was shipped from Picatinny Arsenal in New Jersey to Fort Bragg on the date set forth on the form.”

  He directs the tech to leave the form on the visualizer while he has the witness identify another piece of paper from DOD, this one with a date and signature clearly visible. He moves it into evidence and it goes up on the visualizer next to the first form.

  “Can you tell the jury what this form represents?”

  “This is the document used by the Department of Defense for military standard requisitioning and issue procedures for small arms. When a weapon owned by the government, in this case the Department of Defense, is issued to anyone in the military, they are required to sign the form evidencing their receipt and possession of the weapon.”

  “And does the firearm in question become their personal weapon, so to speak, for military purposes at that point?”

  “It does.”

  “So they don’t have to check it in and out every day?”

  “In some cases. For example, in basic training that may be required. But they only have to sign for it once, when the weapon is assigned to them, and then again on the required form when it is formally surrendered or returned to government stores, sometimes upon reassignment to a new post, or when the person is discharged from the military.”

  “And in this case, is the form on the screen an accurate copy of the original in your folder?”

  “It is.”

  “And can you identify for us the weapon that this document relates to?”

  “It’s the same People’s exhibit six. You can see the serial number as well as the description, make, and model of the firearm on the line just above the signature.”

  “And can you make out the signature? Can you tell us whose name that is?”

  “The name in the signature block on the form is Emiliano Michael Ruiz.”

  “So the form in question”—Templeton points at its DOD number and date up on the screen—“would indicate that the firearm in question, what we have identified as People’s exhibit six, was issued to Emiliano Ruiz on the date set forth, is that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  Templeton nods. “Can you tell us, are you acquainted with Mr. Ruiz?”