“I see. And it appears that this is broken into three separate sections?”
Baden nodded. “It is. Mack Farms has just one account, but they asked that we break it into three separate groups, for Archie and Hamish and Mr. Mack so they can divvy up the expenses between them. It's no trouble for us so we’re happy to do it.”
“I see. So the items listed under Archie were for him, the items under Hamish were his, and the items listed under Alban, that’s Mr. Mack, went to him?”
“That's right.”
“Mr. Baden, this shows that you sold No Weed Corn Seed to the defendant Archie Mack this year, didn't you?”
“I did.”
“And he planted it this year, didn't he?”
“He did.”
“And how do you know that?”
“Because they were transitioning to organic and Archie said it was the last year he was going to plant this type of corn.”
“There's no doubt from your records that Archie Mack bought and planted No Weed Corn Seed, is there?”
“There is not.”
“That's all I have, Mr. Baden. Thank you.”
I stood. “Mr. Baden, State’s Exhibit 58 shows that Archie Mack’s father, Alban Mack, bought the same amount of No Weed Corn Seed as Archie did, right?”
“He did.”
“And Alban Mack planted it this year too, didn’t he?”
“He did.”
“You’ve been out to Mack Farms, right?”
“Absolutely, they’re one of our biggest customers.”
“You’re familiar with the farm layout?”
“I am.”
“Alban Mack’s farm is right next to Hamish’s farm, isn’t it?”
“It is.”
“Does the wind blow in Ash County, Mr. Baden?”
Stritch stood. “Objection.”
“Sustained.”
I nodded. “Mr. Baden, how popular is No Weed Corn Seed?”
“It's our most popular corn seed product.”
“I see. And how many customers in the tri-county area buy this seed from you?”
Scott Baden looked around. “That's proprietary. I'd rather not say, if you don't mind.”
“I understand. How about this, is it more than one hundred farms?”
“Yes, it is.”
“So more than one hundred farmers in the tri-county area buy No Weed Corn Seed from you. I assume that’s enough to plant thousands of acres here in the Tri-County area?”
“What do you mean exactly?”
“I mean that thousands of acres in the Tri-County area are planted with No Weed Corn Seed, right?”
“That's accurate.”
“So there are literally thousands of acres of corn silk scattered all across our county for someone to brush into.”
“Objection,” said Stritch. “Speculation.”
“There are nothing but facts in that statement, Your Honor. The witness sells corn seed in this county to farmers, who grow it on thousands of acres, and it's a physical fact that someone can brush up against any of it.”
“The Court is aware of how physical facts rule works, Mr. Shepherd. You will restrain yourself in your responses to objections as well.”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“The objection is overruled.”
Baden’s head went back and forth, then said, “Yes, sir, there are.”
I turned back to Baden. “Corn grown from that type of seed covers all parts of this county, doesn’t it?”
“Pretty much.”
“There are literally corn mazes carved out of No Weed Corn Seed within a ten minute drive of this courtroom, aren’t there?”
Scott Baden smiled. “Yes. Although they have zombies at the one up in Benzie.”
The jury chuckled and I decided I couldn’t do better than that. “That's all I have, Your Honor.”
T. Marvin Stritch didn't have any more either. Thank God. Life is too short.
“The court is ready for your next witness, Mr. Stritch,” said Judge Wesley.
T. Marvin Stritch stood. “Your Honor, the prosecution rests.”
Judge Wesley looked at me. “Do you have a motion?”
“I do.”
Judge Wesley turned to the jury. “Members of the jury, we have some technical legal issues to address so the Court will send you home a little early tonight. Please be back at eight-thirty tomorrow.” She warned them again not to discuss the case and dismissed them. We all stood as the jury filed out. When they were gone, Judge Wesley returned to me. “Go ahead, Mr. Shepherd.”
“Your Honor, under the Michigan criminal rules—”
That was as far as I got before Judge Wesley raised her hand. “Mr. Shepherd, I believe I was very clear. You need to address the Court with the proper knowledge of Michigan procedure.”
I didn't see how I could have screwed it up in the first seven words. “Your Honor?”
“We are not in Ohio trying a case under the Ohio criminal rules. We are in Michigan trying a case under the Michigan Court rules.”
“My apologies, Your Honor.”
“I'm not interested in your apologies, Mr. Shepherd. I'm interested in a concise argument.”
“Certainly, Your Honor. The Michigan Court Rules state that dismissal of an action is appropriate where the State has not met its burden of proof. Here, the state has produced no evidence that my client attacked Ms. Ackerman. Presence at the site at some indeterminate time is not nearly enough. Further, the State certainly hasn’t presented any evidence that Mr. Mack had an intent to harm Ms. Ackerman. For those reasons, we respectfully request that the case be dismissed.”
She turned to T. Marvin Stritch. “Mr. Stritch?”
“Your Honor, we produced evidence from which a reasonable jury could conclude that Mr. Mack attacked Ms. Ackerman, attempted to kill her, then left her to die. Further, we believe the phone call to Hamish Mack is more than sufficient evidence of motive and intent to harm. For those reasons, directed verdict is not appropriate.”
Judge Wesley didn’t even pretend to think. “The court finds that there’s sufficient evidence for the question of whether Mr. Mack committed these crimes to go to the jury. Motion for directed verdict denied. The defense starts its case tomorrow.” Judge Wesley hit her gavel and left.
T. Marvin Stritch left the room. As he did, Archie turned to me and said, “Is that bad?”
I shook my head. “That's expected. We didn't think she’d dismiss the case, but we have to argue it to preserve potential issues on appeal.”
Archie shook his head. “I would've liked it better if the case had been dismissed.”
I smiled. “You and me both.”
“What comes next?”
“Next, we present our case.”
“So the witnesses should be better to listen to?”
I put my hand on his shoulder. “I certainly hope so.”
42
That night Olivia joined Danny and me at the office. Because she was the guest, we’d let her pick the sandwiches. She’d gone with Cubans and, as I bit through the melted cheese and the tart pickle into steaming pork and ham, I couldn't say she was wrong.
Olivia shook her head.
“Yes?”
“Do you really eat like this every night?” she said.
“During trial.”
“You need to step things up when this is done. I expect to see you five days a week.”
“Four works.”
“Five’s better.”
I sighed then broke a string of melted cheese that was refusing to let go of the bread and said, “It's not enough yet. The doubt that Archie did it. We need to show that the prosecution’s evidence points to other people too.”
“We have to show that someone else did it?” Danny said.
I shook my head. “We have to show that someone else could have done it. The more likely, the greater the doubt.” I munched. “I think I can show opportunity tomorrow. But I need to beef up motive.”
Af
ter a moment, Olivia said, “You know, with all this talk of winning, we’re losing track of one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Who did do it.”
I knew it mattered to her. I also knew I wasn’t sure of the answer.
“That's why I took you up on your offer of help tonight, Liv. I need you and Danny to scour that video one more time. I need you to look at everything. We have to be missing something, some person some clue, some car, something. If Archie didn’t do it, and I don’t think he did, whoever attacked Abby has to be visible at some point on that video.”
Danny rolled his eyes. “What do you think I’ve been doing for the last month?”
“A second set of eyes never hurt.”
Olivia tapped her glasses. “I’m with you, Danny.”
Danny nodded. “So, your idea is for me to just find the magic key to winning the case by sorting through twelve hours of video?”
“Exactly.”
“What are you going to do?”
Olivia smirked. “This is the point where your fearless leader has to go on some vital field trip that, coincidentally, avoids the hard work.”
“If by vital field trip, you mean seeing if I can raise the stakes, you’re right.”
“How?” said Danny.
“I think if the jury believes that a well on the Mack farm has the potential to be worth a lot of money, then they’ll believe that people might've acted more extremely to get a piece of it.”
“So how are you going to do that?
I stood. “I’m going to talk to a guy about some rocks.”
It was a sign of the depth of Danny’s disgust that he didn’t even ask what I meant. He just crumpled his wrapper, went to his office, and got to work.
“I’ll help him,” said Olivia.
“Thanks, Liv.”
“Seriously, win aside—we need to find out who did this.”
“We may not, you know.”
Olivia gave me a mirrored stare. “I don’t accept that.”
“I don’t suppose you do.”
I put my hand on her shoulder in thanks on the way out. She patted it once, then joined Danny.
When I was outside the building, I called the number I had used twice before.
“Eli Timmons,” a voice answered.
“Professor Timmons, this is Nate Shepherd.”
“Nate! Are you out front?”
“I am. Sorry it’s so late.”
“It's not late at all. I’ll be right down.”
Five minutes later, Professor Timmons was popping open the door to the Earth Sciences building and letting me in. He smiled. “We don’t often have geological emergencies in the middle of the night. How exciting!”
We shook hands and he led me through hallways that were sporadically lit.
“I really am sorry about the late notice, Eli, but I need some help preparing an examination in a case and I think you're the perfect person to help.”
“Well, I told you before, I’m always happy to help. When’s your trial?”
“Right now.”
Professor Timmons stopped. “You need my help for the Mack trial?”
“You know about it?”
He smiled. “I told you, I’m a fan. But what can I do to help with an attempted murder case?”
“Do you remember that illustration from your textbook that I talked to you about?”
“The one related to the rock formations? Sure.”
“I’m going to be cross-examining a witness tomorrow. I’d like to use it and I need you to explain it to me.”
We started walking again, but the look on Timmons’s face was troubled. “You know, the University really doesn’t like us getting involved in this kind of stuff.”
“I’m not asking you to testify. I just need a little coaching on the illustration and what’s important.”
Timmons scowled. “How does my illustration fit in?”
“I’m examining the representative from the oil company, Will Wellington. I want to use your diagram to show that he had a motive to act, that Mack Farms is sitting on enough oil for people to do stupid things.”
“You think this Wellington guy did it?”
I chose my words carefully. “I think he had the opportunity to do it.”
Timmons nodded. “Do you have any other testimony?”
“Archie's brother Hamish has already testified. He puts Wellington at the scene too.”
“So this Hamish Mack has already testified? And he points at Wellington?”
“Not directly, but that's the only way his testimony can be interpreted.”
“And Wellington had an opportunity to commit the attack?”
“Yes.”
“That's all you have?”
“That's it.”
“That's not a lot.”
“That's why I'm here.”
We came to the junction that led to his office. Timmons looked both ways before he said, “Nate, to be honest, I thought you were calling me about a property dispute or something. I don’t think the University would want me involved in something like this at all.”
“All I’m asking for is a tutoring session tonight, Eli. I can’t be forced to disclose an expert I don’t call at trial, or his opinions. Your only involvement will be dispensing an hour’s worth of knowledge to me.”
“That’s really it?”
“That’s really it. And I would pay you for a full day’s consult.”
Timmons thought. “It would be quite a story, wouldn't it?”
“It would.”
“All right. Come on in.”
He turned the light on in his outer office and led me back. He was wearing a tan suit that I was pretty sure was more expensive than anything in my closet and a haircut that looked like it was fresh from that morning. He moved easily behind his desk, waved me to a chair, and said, “So, what do you want to know?”
I pulled a copy of the illustration, a geological map of southeast Michigan, out of a folder and put it on the desk.
Timmons smiled. “Fundamentals of Great Lakes Geology. Riveting, isn’t it?”
“It is to me. So, like I mentioned before, I found this illustration from your book attached to a lease for an oil well.”
“Okay.”
“Why?”
“Because it shows rock formations that can indicate an oil reservoir.”
“Which ones?”
“Here.” He turned the map to face me. “See these lines here? That shows a series of syncline and anticline structures that can indicate oil and gas reservoirs in this part of the state.”
I raised my hand. “I'm sorry, Eli. You’re going to have to treat me like an undergrad who didn’t take the prereqs for your class.”
Timmons smiled. “Of course. I'm sorry. I get carried away. You know the earth is under pressure?”
“Yes.”
“And that pressure can make things fold?”
The irony of that statement wasn’t lost on me. “Yes.”
“Syncline and anticline are just ways of describing the folds in the rock.”
“Okay. And why is that important?”
“Because in this part of the state, the largest oil find was in rock formations of this type.”
“The Albion-Scipio Trend?”
Timmons grinned. “You remembered. Exactly.”
“Where is the Albion-Scipio Trend on this illustration?”
“Right here.”
“That’s in a series of anticline formations?”
“You’re a quick study, Nate.” He tapped it. “What makes you think Wellington had access to this illustration?”
“That lease it was attached to was one of his.”
He nodded. “So you’re arguing that he’d be looking to find a similar amount of oil in similar rock formations?”
“I’ll be implying it more than arguing it. Is it a valid theory?”
Timmons looked skeptical. “It’s possible, I guess. Do you see th
is area, about six miles northeast of the Trend?”
“I do.”
“That's the Hanover field. It’s one of the only really successful finds that isn’t part of the Trend.” He waved a finger over the illustration. “So where is the area we’re talking about for your case?”
I made a circle. “Here, a little south and west of the Trend.”
Timmons frowned, then pulled a ruler out his desk and put it on the map.
I smiled. “Ruler at the ready?”
He smiled and shrugged. “College.” He moved the ruler along the map. “That spot is twenty to forty miles away from the Trend depending on which part of it you're measuring from.”
“So does the illustration show that there are syncline formations here that indicate the presence of oil?”
Timmons frowned. “Not exactly. It indicates that the syncline formations are probably there. You’d have to do some sort of testing to determine whether there is actually oil there.”
I thought. “So, if I have this right, this illustration shows that the conditions exist which would make it worthwhile for a company to do the next stage of testing to see if the oil is there?”
“Exactly.”
“Do you know how that part works?”
Timmons sat back. “I can tell you about the rocks that form the deposit or the moraine they’re part of or the estimated age of the striations of rock in that quarry of yours. But exploration and retrieval? That’s an oilman’s job.”
I stared at the illustration. “In this twenty miles between the Trend and the farm, there are a series of dry wells. Does that eliminate the chance of a deposit on the Macks’ farm?”
“These synclines are narrow, some only a mile wide. Hitting a dry spot in one doesn’t mean the next one won’t yield. What’s the company Wellington works for?”
“Hillside Oil & Gas.”
Timmons shook his head. “HOG will take its chances.”
It took me a moment to recognize the acronym. “You know the company?”
“It’s known in academia. We don’t tend to look kindly on commercial exploitation.”
“I suppose not. So Hillside Oil would know how to test this land to see if it would be productive?”
Timmons nodded. “They could move it from a possibility to a probability.”
“And they would know about these rock formations before they entered the lease?”
Blind Conviction (Nate Shepherd Legal Thriller Series Book 3) Page 27