SW05 - The Wrong Gun

by Parnell Hall

  “Good lord,” Tracy said. “Do you really think that’s true?”

  “Of course not. He’s my client, and I think he’s innocent.”

  “Fine,” Tracy said without enthusiasm. “That’s convincing as all hell. Look, can we go back to the gun switching a moment?”

  “Which gun switching?”

  “Yeah, right. Vaulding’s theory. You and I find the murder weapon, Martin goes for the cops, you grab the gun and run upstairs.”

  “What about it?”

  “You said Timberlaine gives you the file to rough up the gun.”

  “Right. So?”

  “Where did he get the file?”

  “It was there in his room.”

  “Why?”

  “Because there wasn’t time for him to get it from anywhere else.”

  “I know that,” Tracy said. “That’s just the point. There wasn’t time, and there’s no reason why he’d have that file in his room, so it couldn’t have happened.”

  “But the file was in his room. It may not make any sense, but it was. Timberlaine even admits it was. He claims he found it.”

  “Yeah, but you’re not going to let him say so on the witness stand. And this is Vaulding’s theory, so how’s he gonna prove it?”

  “He doesn’t have to prove it. He just has to plant the insinuation in the mind of the jury.”

  “Yeah, but it still has to make sense. The theory is Timberlaine had the file and gave it to you to rough up the gun?”

  “Sure.”

  “And why did you do that?”

  “So they couldn’t match up the fatal bullet.”

  “Yeah, well then you made a bad job of it. Because they still matched up the fatal bullet.”

  “I was in a hurry. I had to work fast.”

  “Yeah, but still—”

  Mark Taylor burst into the room.

  “Got it, Steve!”

  “Got what?”

  “My operative’s back. I got the name of the collector.”

  “Thank God for that. Who is he?”

  “You’re a sexist pig again.”

  “What?”

  Taylor grinned. “The collector’s a woman.”

  “For Christ’s sake, Mark.”

  “Sorry. I couldn’t resist.”

  “Maybe not, but—Oh, shit.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t tell me the collector’s Felicia Ebersol?”

  “Who?”

  “Didn’t you question her? You know. That friend of Timberlaine’s.”

  “I’m afraid you’re a sexist pig again.”

  “What the hell?”

  “Thinking there’s only one woman collector. Well, it’s not her. This collector’s name is Veronica Dreisson.”

  “Can I talk to her?”

  “Would you want to?”

  “Actually, yes. My instinct is to bury her, but as an attorney, I want to make sure her rights are protected.”

  “That’s what I wanted to ask you about.”

  “What?”

  “She’s in California.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. And she’s comin’ back tomorrow. I was wondering if some business or other might induce her to stay over?”

  Steve gave him a look.

  Taylor shrugged. “Just a thought.”

  “No, Mark, let her come back. I want to talk to her when she gets here.”

  Taylor looked concerned. “You gonna put her on the stand and drop a bombshell by bringing in the other gun?”

  “I wouldn’t do that unless I absolutely had to.”

  “That does not cheer me.”

  “Right now that looks like a sucker play.”

  “That does.” Taylor took a breath. “I certainly don’t want you to tell me anything you don’t want to tell me.”

  “What does that mean, Mark?”

  “This morning you produced a gun in court.”

  “Naturally. I’m not going to defy a subpoena.”

  “Now I know you don’t want to tell me anything or you already would have, but I was just thinking.”

  “What was that, Mark?”

  “I was thinking—hypothetically speaking, of course—but wouldn’t it be nice if that gun you produced was the gun that Timberlaine originally gave you? The one I tested the bullets from. The one you substituted for the one I bought. The one that’s been sitting in your safe ever since. Because in that event, the bullets you gave them would conveniently match the gun you gave them. And the gun you got from Timberlaine’s safe-deposit box—my gun—would now be sitting in your safe where no one would ever think of looking for it. And no one would ever find it, unless you yourself, for some perverse reason, brought it into the case. But barring that, no one would ever ask anything about that gun, because no one would ever know that it even existed. And to all intents and purposes, it never would have existed, because the evidence would all be back in order, and the guns and bullets would all match up. And yours truly would be off the proverbial hook.

  “Well,” Taylor said. “What do you think of that?”

  Steve smiled. “Well,” he said. “Hypothetically speaking, I hope you’re right.”

  Mark Taylor looked at him. “Are you telling me you did that?”

  “Of course I’m not telling you that.”

  “Too bad,” Taylor said. “It would sure take the pressure off. Particularly with Vaulding pointing out you had the opportunity of switching guns.”

  “Oh, you caught that?”

  “I sure did.”

  “Then it’s a cinch everybody else in court did too.”

  Taylor winced. “Hey, thanks a lot.”

  Steve grinned. “Just getting back at you for the sexist stuff.”

  “I was kidding.”

  “Yeah, well you hit a nerve. Tracy just got through needling me to get on Vaulding’s case to get him to call her Ms.”

  Taylor grinned. “Are you kidding me?”

  “I’m kidding too,” Tracy said, “but the fact is, the son of a bitch should.”

  “Maybe so,” Taylor said. “But if I were you I wouldn’t push it. Kind of a low priority.” He shrugged. “I mean, hell, if I can just get out of this damn case without being charged with anything, the D.A. can call me any damn thing he likes.”

  41.

  PHILIP MANNING DID NOT look comfortable on the witness stand. He shifted position, tugged at his collar, elevated his chin. His actions gave him a somewhat defiant appearance. In view of Judge Hendrick’s admonition not to communicate his findings to the prosecution, his attitude created the impression that pressure had probably been put on him to do exactly that.

  Vaulding didn’t look too pleased either. He frowned, looked around the courtroom, then turned to confront the witness.

  “Now, Mr. Manning. Yesterday you were furnished with additional materials, People’s Exhibits Five-A and -B and People’s Exhibit Six, and instructed to perform certain tests on them. Have you completed those tests?”

  “Yes, I have.”

  “Have you communicated the results of those tests to me?”

  “No, I have not.”

  “Or to anyone else?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Are you prepared to do so now?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Fine. Regarding the gun, People’s Exhibit Six, were either of these new bullets, People’s Exhibit Five-A or People’s Exhibit Five-B, fired by that gun?”

  “Yes, sir. The bullet, People’s Exhibit Five-B—the one from the tube marked RT-SUB—came from the gun, People’s Exhibit Six.”

  “There is no question in your mind?”

  “None whatsoever. And what’s more—”

  Vaulding held up his hand. “One moment, Mr. Manning. There are enough guns and bullets that this is rather confusing. Let’s try to take it in an orderly manner. That accounts for the bullet, People’s Exhibit Five-B. What about the bullet, People’s Exhibit Five-A? The one marked RT-ORIG? Did you determ
ine what gun that bullet came from?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “What gun was that?”

  “It came from the gun, People’s Exhibit Three.”

  “The original Pistol Pete Robbins gun found by the body?”

  “I have no knowledge as to that. I only know that bullet came from that gun.”

  “You compared it to a test bullet under the comparison microscope?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “The barrel of that gun was not defaced, so the bullets are absolutely identical?”

  “Yes, they are.” Manning cleared his throat. “With regard to that—”

  Vaulding held up his hand again. “Please, Mr. Manning. You’ll have your say, but I need all these matters cleared up. Now, two days ago you were asked to compare a bullet from the gun, People’s Exhibit Three, to a bullet from the gun, People’s Exhibit Four, in order to show how many similarities you could find. Did you perform that test?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Did the bullets compare?”

  “No, they did not. They came from separate guns.”

  “But the new bullet, People’s Exhibit Five-A, did come from the gun, People’s Exhibit Three?”

  “Yes, it did.”

  “And the bullet, People’s Exhibit Five-B, came from the gun, People’s Exhibit Six?”

  “Yes, it did.”

  “Neither of these new bullets came from the gun, People’s Exhibit Four?”

  “No, they didn’t. However—”

  “Yes?” Vaulding said. “What is it, Mr. Manning?”

  Manning cleared his throat again. “I had hoped that one of these new bullets would prove to have come from the gun, People’s Exhibit Four, since it could only have done so prior to the murder, and therefore prior to the time the barrel of the gun had been defaced, and would therefore be a test bullet with which we could make an absolute match. Unfortunately, that was not the case. Nonetheless, as I was instructed to compare all these exhibits against each other, I did attempt to match up these new bullets with test bullets from the gun, People’s Exhibit Four. I was unable to do so.”

  “Naturally,” Vaulding said.

  “No, not naturally,” Manning said. “You see, both bullets lined up in some regard due to the class characteristics. Which made comparison hard, since I had to allow for the tampering done by the file.”

  “But the bullets did not match?”

  “No, they did not. And with bullet Five-A, this was readily apparent. Only one class characteristic lined up.

  “Bullet Five-B proved more difficult. In attempting to align the bullets, I was able to find three points of similarity.”

  Vaulding frowned. “Three?”

  “That is correct. That is the same number that I found in comparing a test bullet from the gun, People’s Exhibit Four, with the fatal bullet, People’s Exhibit One.”

  Vaulding held up his hand. “Wait a minute.” He blinked his eyes, and in that moment his face betrayed the fact that he could feel his case slipping away from him. But he had no choice other than to go on. “Let me be sure I understand this,” he said. “Are you saying that because you found three points of similarity between this new bullet from this new gun, People’s Exhibit Six, and a test bullet fired from the gun, People’s Exhibit Four—are you saying this weakens your identification of the gun, People’s Exhibit Four, being the gun that fired the fatal bullet?”

  Manning shook his head. He took a breath. “I’m afraid it goes a little deeper than that. You must understand. I was dealing with a gun that had been defaced. With bullets to which additional scratches had been added. I was trying to work around that. I was giving you a professional opinion based on the best information that could be gathered from the materials I had to work with at the time. I—”

  Vaulding held up his hand. His face was hard. “Mr. Manning. Let me be sure I understand this. Are you now testifying that in light of this evidence you have reversed your opinion? That it is now your opinion that the gun, People’s Exhibit Four, did not fire the fatal bullet?”

  “That is correct.”

  Vaulding was incensed. “Well, how can you do that, Mr. Manning? Two days ago you testified positively that this was the gun that fired the fatal bullet. It’s one thing to say that this new evidence creates some doubt as to the finding. But it’s something else to retract your testimony and now state positively that this gun did not fire that bullet.”

  “I have no other choice. I now have indisputable evidence to the contrary.”

  Vaulding stared at him. “And how can that be?”

  “From the new evidence.” Manning took a breath. “As I would have told you to begin with,” he said with some exasperation, “if you’d just asked me to state my findings, instead of insisting on putting everything in order. But as it happens, I know the bullet didn’t come from the gun, People’s Exhibit Four, because I now have a match for the fatal bullet. You see, when the bullet from the gun, People’s Exhibit Six, showed the same points of similarity with a bullet from the gun, People’s Exhibit Four, as that bullet had shown with the fatal bullet, I next put the bullet from People’s Exhibit Six and the fatal bullet under the comparison microscope. And they match absolutely. That’s how I know the fatal bullet didn’t come from the gun, People’s Exhibit Four. There’s no question about it. The fatal bullet came from this new gun, People’s Exhibit Six.”

  42.

  STEVE WINSLOW COULDN’T SIT still. He kept flinging himself around his office, practically bouncing off the walls.

  “Take it easy,” Tracy said.

  Steve wheeled on her. “Easy? You’re telling me to take it easy? I just framed my own client!”

  “It’s not that bad.”

  “No? How is it not that bad? It’s exactly what happened.”

  “You didn’t frame your own client.”

  “Sure I did. I substituted guns on him and handed the murder weapon over to the D.A.”

  “I don’t know how that happened.”

  “You and me both. But the fact is, I did. It puts me in a hell of a position. Not to mention the position I put my client in. And what makes it worse is, he doesn’t even know it. He must suspect it. He knows something happened. I mean, the poor son of a bitch is sitting there in court. As far as he knows, People’s Exhibit Six is the gun he put in the safe-deposit box—a gun he knows for sure couldn’t have committed the crime, because it’s been locked in a safe-deposit box from the time I gave it back to him to the time I got it out of that box and brought it into court. From his point of view, there’s no way that gun could have anything to do with the murder. Then, kick in the chops, it does! And the one explanation as far as Timberlaine is concerned, is his attorney switched guns and framed him.”

  “He can’t think that.”

  “What else can he think? And he’s right. The fucker’s head must be coming off trying to figure out why I framed him, but he’s gotta know I did.”

  Tracy shook her head. “Jesus Christ.”

  “And there’s no way to straighten it out,” Steve said. “Even if I wanted to take the rap for this—which I sure as hell don’t—but even if I wanted to beat my breasts and come clean, march into court and say, ‘Pardon me, Your Honor. Excuse me, Mr. Vaulding, but I can straighten this out. The reason the gun and bullets match up is it’s not really Mr. Timberlaine’s gun, I switched guns on him’—well, nobody in the whole fucking courtroom is going to believe me. They’d think it was a stupid story I was making up in a desperate attempt to account for the fact that my client had the gun. They’d also think I was a total moron for trying to claim I had the gun. And I’d have to agree with ’em there.”

  “Granted that is not the smooth move,” Tracy said. Steve gave her a sharp look and she held up her hand. “But the fact is, you got a kick in the chops just as much as Timberlaine did. And for the same reason. You’re sitting in court, and as far as you know, there’s no way in hell People’s Exhibit Six fired the fatal shot.�
� She smiled. “I believe it was just last night you told me that was the one thing in this case you knew for sure. Then it blew up in your face. You’re blaming yourself for not anticipating that? No lawyer in the world could have anticipated that.”

  “That doesn’t help.”

  “I know it doesn’t help. But if you don’t mind the question, what the hell happened?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “With the gun and the bullet?”

  “It’s the fatal bullet. It’s the fatal gun. A slight physical impossibility, but there you are.”

  “Yeah. So what’s the explanation?”

  “Are you trying to piss me off?”

  “No, I’m trying to get your opinion on the problem. I have a feeling you could think your way out of anything, if you weren’t emotionally involved.”

  “Thanks for your support.”

  “Don’t mention it. Hey, you got a right to be pissed. Let’s get beyond it and figure out what the hell happened to you.”

  “Hey,” Steve said. “You think I haven’t been trying to do that?”

  “I’m sure you have. I just think you’re too emotionally involved to think straight.”

  “And you feel that simply telling me that will enable me to do so?” Steve said sarcastically.

  She shrugged. “No, but at this point things are so fucked up, I figure it couldn’t hurt.”

  Steve shook his head. “You got me there. You’re absolutely right. There’s nothing I can do at this point that can make it any worse. There’s a certain consolation in that.”