SW05 - The Wrong Gun

by Parnell Hall

  Steve smiled. “Hey! There’s a reasonable hypothesis other than that of guilt. We got there after all.

  “And you know what? There is absolutely nothing to contradict that hypothesis. There’s no evidence that the gun on that night table was the gun worn by Russ Timberlaine at the auction. No witnesses whatsoever. The only assertion that is true is the unsubstantiated word of the prosecutor, District Attorney Robert Vaulding. And how much credence may we place in that? Well, the man is not omniscient, he’s not a psychic, and he’s not a witness. He’s expressing his opinion. What he’d like to have be true. But for a real assessment of how much his opinion’s worth, consider this: if the gun found next to the body had turned out to be the murder weapon, Mr. Vaulding would now be claiming that was the gun Russ Timberlaine was wearing at the auction.”

  Steve paused and let that sink in. He shrugged. “He’d like that much better. See, that gun he can tie to Timberlaine. That gun, he can prove Timberlaine owned. But the murder weapon he can’t.”

  Steve tugged open the cuffs of his jacket one at a time, a nothing-up-my-sleeves gesture. He smiled. “Keep your eyes on the gun, ladies and gentlemen.” He held up his hand. “Mr. Vaulding says, I hold in my hand the murder weapon.” Steve snapped his fingers. “He snaps his fingers, poof, the gun disappears. He walks across the stage to the table where he’s left his top hat, reaches in and, voila, pulls out a gun. This is where you the audience are supposed to clap because it’s the same gun.”

  Steve shrugged. “Wanna bet if it is? Keep your eyes on the gun, ladies and gentlemen. As I said, the prosecution is going to put on a host of witnesses to testify about the gun. Well, consider this: if I were to introduce evidence that any one of them had purchased a Colt .45 at some time before the murder, the prosecution would have no way whatsoever to prove that gun was not the murder weapon.”

  In the back of the courtroom, Mark Taylor coughed and nearly gagged.

  Steve Winslow took no notice. He smiled at the jury. “So keep your eyes on the gun, ladies and gentlemen. Keep your eyes on the case.”

  Steve rubbed his hands together, then suddenly broke them apart and spread them wide, palms out.

  Steve smiled.

  “Poof.”

  25.

  MARK TAYLOR WAS FIT to be tied.

  “Jesus Christ, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

  Steve smiled. “Don’t pull your punches, Mark. If you’re upset with me, just say so.”

  “Keep it down, guys,” Tracy said, looking around apprehensively.

  Steve, Mark and Tracy were catching lunch at a small sandwich shop near the courthouse. They’d chosen a table in the far corner, but the place was fairly crowded, and in a place like that there was no telling who might be listening.

  “Fine,” Taylor said. “I’ll keep it down. I’ll talk low. I’ll even fucking whisper. Just tell me what the hell you think you’re trying to pull.”

  “You mean about the gun?” Steve said.

  Taylor stared at him in exasperation. “Yes, I mean about the gun. I’m sitting there in the back row, I almost had a heart attack. I mean, you practically out-and-out suggested to Vaulding that he start checking on who bought Colt .45s in the last few days.”

  “I had to.”

  “Why? You got a death wish? You wanna be killed by a really pissed off private detective? Or you wanna go to jail? I tell you, I sure don’t. I go out and buy a gun for you, the next thing I know you’re sicking the district attorney on my case.”

  “Not on your case, Mark. I didn’t mean you.”

  “So fucking what! What do you wanna do, tap Vaulding on the shoulder, say, ‘Excuse me, when I told you to check out who bought guns before the murder, I meant everybody except Mark Taylor?’”

  “I admit that part of it’s unfortunate.”

  “Unfortunate? You scared the shit out of me. Why the hell’d you do it?”

  “I’m fighting for my client, Mark, and I had to do something.”

  “Why?”

  Steve picked up his cup of coffee, took a sip. He shook his head, exhaled. “Because, frankly, Vaulding’s good. He’s much better than I expected. His opening statement caught me by surprise, I felt I had to do something to get back. I started making my opening statement, it was going nowhere, I found myself up in the air, I had to say something. I’m just sorry it was that.”

  “You and me both.”

  “But come on, Mark. Checking up on gun purchases is not such an original idea. You think Vaulding hadn’t already thought of it?”

  “Yeah, I know. But you don’t have to throw it in his lap. I mean, you practically challenged him with it, for Christ’s sake.”

  “I know.”

  “So what’s the bottom line?” Tracy said.

  Taylor looked at her. “Huh?”

  Tracy shrugged. “I mean, come on, boys, we can squabble over who did what to whom. What’s done is done. Now how much did it hurt, and what’s going to happen next?”

  They both looked at her. Taylor shrugged. “O.K. You’re right, as usual. But will you grant me cause for bein’ pissed?”

  “All day long, Mark,” Tracy said. “Now how bad does it hurt?”

  “Right,” Steve said. “What is the bottom line? If Vaulding starts looking, what’s he going to find?”

  Mark Taylor took a sip of coffee. If it agreed with him, Steve and Tracy couldn’t have told from his expression. He sighed. “Hopefully, not that much.”

  “You buy from a dealer?”

  “Yes and no.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “I bought from a collector.”

  “What’s the difference?”

  “Big difference. Collector doesn’t run a gun shop. Doesn’t keep an arms register. The gun’s registered, yeah, but it’s registered at the shop where he bought it.”

  “And where’s that?”

  “I don’t know,” Taylor said irritably. “That’s what’s killing me. That’s what’s pissing me off. I mean, I try to be discreet, sure. I take precautions. But Jesus Christ. I mean, how the hell am I supposed to know there’s gonna be a murder?”

  “No way you could know, Mark. But just what are you saying?”

  Mark Taylor looked around the coffee shop, grimaced, lowered his voice. “All right. You show me a Colt .45, tell me you want a duplicate of the gun. I got an operative knows a dealer. So I pass along the word. No problem, made the buy. Gives me the identical gun I gave you.” Taylor grimaced again. “You know. The murder weapon. The one you filed the serial number off of.”

  “Yeah, Mark. What’s the point?”

  “The point is, I don’t know. I should know, but I don’t. It just wasn’t that important at the time. The gun came from the collector. But did the collector have it in stock, or did the collector have to buy it for us?”

  “Wouldn’t the operative know?”

  “Sure.”

  “So why don’t you ask him?”

  “You’re a sexist pig.”

  “Huh?”

  “The operative’s a woman.”

  “Fine. Why don’t you ask her?”

  “Because she’s on vacation and I can’t find her.”

  Steve looked at him. “And you don’t know what collector she bought from, only she knows that?”

  “Bingo,” Taylor said. “Right on the button. See why I’m goin’ nuts?”

  “Yeah, I do. But there’s a saving grace.”

  “What’s that?”

  “If she’s on vacation and you can’t find her, the cops can’t either.”

  “Right. So instead I just gotta sit here peein’ in my pants wondering if they’re gonna stumble over the collector.”

  “Why should they?”

  “Because some collectors are dealers too, and who’s to say this collector isn’t.”

  Steve frowned. “I see.”

  “Do you? Good. Then you know why I’m going nuts. So tell me, what’s the point? I mean, aside from wanting
to compete with Vaulding, what are you trying to prove?”

  “Basically, that my client didn’t buy the gun. I mean, of course, assuming we hadn’t made the substitution. I mean, here’s the murder weapon with the number ground off. Nothing to tie it to my client except the fact it was found in his room. No, if Vaulding had any way of showing Timberlaine could have purchased that gun, he would. My play is to dare him to do it and taunt him when he can’t. Now, if that runs the risk of him tripping over our back trail, that’s too bad, but I can’t back off because of that.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Taylor said moodily.

  “Fine,” Tracy said. “Now, if we’ve exhausted that subject, tell me about the file.”

  Taylor frowned. “What about it?”

  “That’s what I want to know,” Tracy said. “Vaulding serves a search warrant, finds the file, holds a press conference to announce it. Then he makes his opening statement and he doesn’t even mention it once.”

  “Exactly,” Steve said. “That’s when I knew the guy was good.”

  “Wait a minute,” Taylor said. “That’s right. He didn’t mention it. How come?”

  Steve shrugged. “I imagine he figures he’s got enough on Timberlaine without it. So he leaves it out, so when it comes up later it’s yet another damning item on top of all the rest of the evidence.”

  “Shit,” Taylor said. “Can he do that?”

  “Moot point, Mark. He’s already done it.”

  “I mean, is it legal?”

  “There’s no law says you gotta say everything in the world in your opening statement. Hell, there’s no law says you gotta make an opening statement. Vaulding could have waived his opening statement and started calling witnesses for that matter. He made his opening statement, it was a good one, he just chose to leave that out.

  “Which is one of the things that set me off. One of the reasons maybe I said more than I should’ve.”

  “Then you think it’s a good tactic?”

  “Hell, yes. It also anticipates the moron factor.”

  “The what?” Taylor said.

  Steve made a face. “One of my big problems in this case is my defendant’s not very bright. Be that as it may, I still gotta argue the guy couldn’t be so dumb as to do such and such. The main thing, of course, is hold on to the murder gun.

  “Of course, Vaulding knows that. And he anticipates the argument and this is his response.”

  “Timberlaine used the file so he could keep the murder weapon?”

  “Exactly.”

  “But then he goes ahead and keeps the file.”

  “I told you it’s the moron factor, Mark.”

  “Jesus.”

  “Hey, it’s in our favor. Vaulding’s the one’s gotta argue the guy had to be that dumb.”

  “Well, just between you and me, maybe he is.”

  “No takers.”

  “So how you gonna play it?”

  Steve grimaced. “That’s the problem with this case. I haven’t the faintest idea. Vaulding’s unconventional, which makes it hard to plan. So I’m not acting, I’m reacting. Basically I gotta sit back and see what Vaulding does next.” Steve shrugged. “And there, Mark,” he said, “your guess is as good as mine.”

  26.

  VAULDING LED OFF WITH Lieutenant Sanders, who testified to responding to a report of a homicide at the Timberlaine mansion.

  “And what did you find when you arrived?” Vaulding asked.

  “Two officers were already on the scene. There was a body on the floor, and it was indeed an apparent homicide.”

  “And had the officers taken any action?”

  “Only to secure the premises and hold it until the Crime Scene Unit arrived.”

  “And what happened when you arrived?”

  “I took charge from the officers and inspected the crime scene.”

  “You inspected it personally?”

  “Yes, I did. I instructed the Crime Scene Unit to process it, but I naturally inspected it myself. I always do.”

  “Could you please describe the crime scene and tell us what you found?”

  “Yes, sir. The crime scene was the gun room in the Timberlaine mansion. If I may explain, Russ Timberlaine, the defendant, is a gun collector. What I refer to as the gun room was a room with shelves and cases where his collection was displayed.”

  “Similar to a museum exhibit?” Vaulding asked.

  Sanders nodded. “Good analogy. There were glass-enclosed cases, glass-topped tables with guns on display in them. Very similar to a museum exhibit.”

  “And where was the body?”

  “It was lying face up on the floor, in the middle of the room. Right next to one of the gun cases. The glass-enclosed table-top cases, I mean. And he was bleeding from the forehead, from what I presumed to be the wound of a bullet.”

  “But you don’t know that for a fact?”

  “No, sir, I do not. I only know that I saw blood coming from a wound in the forehead.”

  “I see,” Vaulding said. “Now, in addition to the police officers you have already testified to, was there anybody else present at the scene of the crime when you got there?”

  Sanders nodded. “Yes, sir. There were several guests staying at the mansion over the weekend, and by the time I got there, many of them had heard of it and gathered around to find out what was going on. In fact, the main job of the two officers on the scene was keeping them away.”

  “Did you have dealings with any of these guests in particular?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And who would that be?”

  “Mr. Steve Winslow and Miss Tracy Garvin.”

  “Steve Winslow?” Vaulding said. “Are you referring to Mr. Steve Winslow, the attorney for the defense?”

  “That’s right.”

  “I see. And who is Miss Tracy Garvin?”

  “She is Mr. Winslow’s confidential secretary.”

  Vaulding smiled. “Thank you,” he said. He turned to the judge. “Your Honor, at this point I have a motion that had best be made outside the presence of the jury.”

  Judge Hendrick frowned. “Very well. Bailiff, if you would show the jury out.”

  The jurors looked at each other as the court officer opened the doors and led them out. There was a low buzz of conversation in the courtroom while this was happening, and Steve was sure he heard his name mentioned.

  When the jurors had been led out, Judge Hendrick said, “Yes, Mr. Vaulding, what is your motion?”

  “Your Honor,” Vaulding said. “You will note that Lieutenant Sanders has just testified in response to my question that two weekend guests he paid particular attention to were Steve Winslow and Tracy Garvin. Steve Winslow is the attorney for the defense. Tracy Garvin is his confidential secretary. Mr. Winslow and Miss Garvin were guests of Mr. Timberlaine at the time of the murder, and actually happened to be the first ones to discover the body. I have no wish to embarrass Mr. Winslow or Miss Garvin in this manner, or run the risk of tainting these proceedings by having the attorney for the defense testify as a witness for the prosecution. Therefore, I am attempting to avoid calling Mr. Winslow or Miss Garvin. Frankly, I don’t think their testimony is necessary. Nor do I think undue importance should be attached to the fact that they were the ones who found the body. It is not my intention to imply, for instance,” Vaulding said, “that the reason they found the body was because their client told them it was there.”

  Steve Winslow sprang to his feet. “Oh, Your Honor!”

  “Exactly,” Judge Hendrick snapped. “Mr. Vaulding, you must understand why that remark is extremely objectionable. In fact, with the jury present, that alone could be enough for a mistrial.”

  Vaulding smiled. “I’m sorry, Your Honor. I was just pointing out why I don’t feel that their testimony is necessary. But to the point at hand. As it is my stated intention to avoid putting Mr. Winslow and Miss Garvin on the stand, it becomes necessary to refer to their finding of the body in a manner that otherwise might
technically be regarded as hearsay.”

  Judge Hendrick frowned. “You intend to ask Lieutenant Sanders why in particular he questioned Mr. Winslow and Miss Garvin, and expect him to answer that it was because they were the ones who found the body?”

  Vaulding nodded. “Exactly, Your Honor. Which is of course hearsay, because how could Sanders know that except from something they or some third party told him.”

  “I see,” Judge Hendrick said. “And what, specifically, is your motion?”

  “I am willing to stipulate that Mr. Winslow and Miss Garvin need not be called to testify about finding the body, if Mr. Winslow will stipulate that I may ask questions regarding the finding of the body that might technically be considered hearsay.”

  Judge Hendrick turned to Steve Winslow. “Mr. Winslow?”

  “Yes, Your Honor.”

  “You’ve heard what Mr. Vaulding has in mind. In light of the stipulation that he intends to avoid calling you and Miss Garvin to the stand, are you willing to stipulate that he be allowed the latitude to ask questions that might technically be considered hearsay?”

  “No, Your Honor.”

  There came a surprised murmur from the spectators in the courtroom. Obviously, all of them had expected Steve to agree.

  Apparently, Judge Hendrick had too. He frowned. “You’re not willing, Mr. Winslow?”

  “Absolutely not, Your Honor,” Steve said. “I’d be a fine attorney if I stipulated away my client’s rights to avoid embarrassing myself.

  “I’ll go this far, however. Mr. Vaulding can ask Lieutenant Sanders whatever questions he wants, and I’ll try not to object unless I feel an answer might tend to violate the rights of my client. But to make a blanket statement that I don’t intend to object—that’s just ludicrous. Frankly, Your Honor, I don’t know what questions he’s going to ask or how the witness is going to answer. And I’m certainly not willing to let Lieutenant Sanders speak for me. If it works out, fine. But as far as being a witness in the case, let me tell you this. If Lieutenant Sanders’s recollection differs from mine, I’ll not only cross-examine him on it, when I start putting on my case, I’ll put myself on the stand to contradict him and try to impeach his testimony.”