Christenson flipped through the transcript, but found nothing that looked important. He put it down on the table and started on the other documents. There were miscellaneous papers, a file filled with correspondence between Justice Griffen and his stockbroker, another file with paperwork about his beach property and an envelope stuffed with credit card receipts. Christenson went through the receipts. Several were from a restaurant in Salem that was close to the court, a few were from stores in Salem and Portland, three were from a motel called the Overlook and a number of receipts were from gas stations. Nothing relevant to the case.
Christenson went through the contents of the box once more, then gave up. It was late and he was tired. If Tracy Cavanaugh had spotted something important, it had gone right by him.
Christenson yawned, closed the door to the conference room and headed home.*
As soon as she was alone in the office, Tracy found Volume XI.
To her great disappointment, it was incredibly dull. It contained the testimony of the police officers who searched Charlie Deems's apartment after his arrest. They told about items they had discovered during the search. Tracy could not imagine why Laura Rizzatti would have been interested in anything she read.
The sheet from Laura's yellow legal pad had been stuck between pages 1289 and 1290. Tracy wondered if that meant those pages contained something important or if the yellow sheet with the list of cases had ended up there by chance. When she reached pages 1289 and 1290, she found nothing that helped clear up the mystery.
Portland police detective Mark Simon's testimony started on 7 and continued past the two pages. He was the detective in charge of the search of Deems's apartment. In the early part of his testimony, he outlined the assignments of the officers who searched the apartment.
Then he talked about various items found during the search and their significance to the homicide investigation. Deems had been arrested at a nightclub. Several people had phoned him while he was out. The direct examination by Abigail Griffen on pages 1289 and 1290 concerned messages found on Deems's answering machine.
"GRIFFE: So these were messages that were waiting for the defendant, which he was unable to return because he was arrested?"
SIMON: Yes ma'am.
"Q: The jury has heard the message tape. I'd like to go through the messages with you and ask you to comment on their significance, if you can."
"A: All right.
"Q' The first message is from 'Jack." He leaves a number.
What significance do you attach to that call?"
"A: I don't have enough information to comment on that call.
The number was for a pay phone. We did send someone to the phone, but there was no one there when the officers arrived."
"Q: Okay. Message number two was from Raoul. He leaves a pager number and asks the defendant to call him when he gets in.
What is the significance of that call?"
"A: Okay. Well, with this one, I can comment. Subsequent investigation revealed that the pager was rented from Continental Communications by Ram6n Prez, a known associate of Raoul Otero. Mr. Otero is reputed to be one of the major players in an organization that distributes cocaine in Oregon, Washington, Texas and Louisiana. I believe this call indicates a connection between the defendant and this organization."
"Q: Thank you. Now, the next call was from Arthur Knowland. He did not leave a phone number. He did say that he needed some 'shirts' and wanted the defendant to call him as soon as possible."
"A: Okay. I believe this call is from someone who wants to buy drugs from the defendant. We see this all the time when we have electronic surveillance on individuals who are talking about drug deals. They rarely use the names of narcotics in their discussions.
They will call heroin or cocaine 'tires' or 'shirts' or whatever they have agreed on in the belief that this will somehow protect them if the person they are dealing with is an undercover officer or a recording is being made of their conversation."
"Q: The last message is from Alice. She leaves a message and a phone number."
"A: We contacted the person who subscribes to the phone number. Her name was Alice Trapp. She admitted that her call was an attempt to purchase cocaine."
The examination continued on the next page, but it changed to a discussion of the contents of a notebook that had been found in Deems's bedroom. Tracy reread the two pages, but had no idea why they might be significant. Then she glanced at her watch. It was eight-thirty. Tracy put Volume XI back with the other transcripts and turned out the lights.
The idea of watching Casablanca with Barry Frame seemed like heaven compared to reading another page of boring transcript. In fact, spending the evening with Barry was preferable to anything else she could imagine.
The trial was leaving Tracy so exhausted that sex had been completely banished from her thoughts. Until now. She and Barry had not made love yet, but the way they felt about each other meant it was only a matter of time and the right setting.
Chapter TWENTY-THREE
"You know the drill. Keep your head up, keep moving and let me do the talking," Matthew told Abbie when Barry Frame stopped his car in front of the Multnomah County Courthouse on Monday morning. A torrential rain cascaded off the car as Matthew opened the back door on the driver's side. Huge drops bounced off of the hood and windshield. Matthew held up a large black umbrella to shield Abbie from the downpour. Tracy grabbed the huge leather sample case with the trial files, smiled quickly and shyly at Barry, then ran around the car to help screen Abbie from the crowd that blocked the courthouse entrance. She was soaking wet by the time they fought their way through the reporters and into the elevator.
The court guards recognized the defense team and waved them around the metal detector that stood between the courtroom door and the long line of spectators. Matthew led the way through the low gate that separated the spectators from the court. He set his briefcase next to the counsel table and shook the water off the umbrella. When he turned around, Abbie was staring at Charlie Deems, who was lounging on a bench behind Chuck Geddes inside the bar of the court. Deems looked surprisingly handsome in a blue pinstripe suit, freshly pressed white shirt and wine-red tie that Geddes had purchased for his court appearance. His shoes were polished and his hair had been cut.
"Howdy, Mrs. Prosecutor," Deems said, flashing his toothy grin. "You learnin' what it feels like to be in the frying pan?"
Before Abbie could respond, Matthew stepped in front of her.
He stared down at Deems. Deems stopped grinning. Reynolds held him with his eyes a moment more. Then he spoke in a voice so low that only Charlie Deems heard him.
"You are a hollow man, Mr. Deems. There is no goodness in you. If you tell lies about Mrs. Griffen in this courtroom, not even a dark angel will protect you."
Charlie Deems turned pale. Reynolds turned his back to Deems. Deems leaped to his feet.
"Hey," Deems shouted, "look at me, you freak."
Reynolds sat down and opened his briefcase. Deems took a step toward Matthew, his face tight with rage.
"What did you just say?" Geddes demanded of Reynolds as he and Christenson restrained Deems. Matthew ignored Geddes and calmly arranged his notes while the prosecutor tried to calm his star witness.
"Mr. Deems," Chuck Geddes asked, "are you acquainted with the defendant?"
"In a manner of speaking."
"Please explain how you two first met."
"She prosecuted me for murder."
"Had you ever met the defendant before she prosecuted you?"