deputies looks like she's part of a cover-up, he's toast. If you don't
go to him with this, I will. The Zimmerman case was mine, and this
shit that's going down now is a hell of a lot more important than some
loser like Derringer."
"Yeah? Well, that loser basically tortured a thirteen-year-old girl
and then left her to die. I don't see much of a difference between him
and Jesse Taylor."
He looked frustrated, but at least his response seemed earnest. "Sam,
I wasn't saying Derringer was a good guy. Hell, maybe I was too quick
to write it off as an Assault Three. But be pragmatic. The boss's
political exposure on this Zimmerman thing is huge. You at least need
to tell him before you try to keep Derringer from getting into it in
your trial."
He was right. "I'll talk to Duncan when I get out of trial today." He
started to walk away, but I couldn't leave it at that. "You know, Tim,
you could be a little more careful about how you handle things, too. I
don't think it would help the boss's political image if the newspapers
heard that the head of his major crimes unit short-shrifts
thirteen-year-old sex-crime victims and tells jokes about incest."
O'Donnell rolled his eyes at me. "You want to make it around here,
you're going to have to tame those emotions. This isn't personal,
Sam."
The truth was that I didn't know why I'd snapped at him. He was being
helpful, but I couldn't bring myself to tell him I appreciated it. "We
done here?" I asked.
"Yeah. Come get me when you're out of trial. I want to be there when
you talk to Duncan."
I couldn't see any reason for him to baby-sit me when I talked to
Duncan, other than to show his authority, but it wasn't worth fighting
about. He was the supervisor of major crimes, had prosecuted the
Zimmerman case, and was heading the investigation into the anonymous
letter. With all those legitimate reasons for him to be part of the
conversation with Duncan, I wouldn't be able to convince him or anyone
else that he was only stroking his ego.
I couldn't concentrate after O'Donnell left my office. So instead of
staring at the Derringer file with my last remaining minutes of the
break, I ran out to the burrito cart in front of the courthouse. The
combination of fat and spice was just what I needed before going back
to court.
Unfortunately, the bliss was short-lived. Lopez called her next
witness, a guy named Travis Culver.
I stood up to speak. "Sidebar, your honor?" Lesh nodded, and Lisa and
I approached the bench. It was my sidebar, so my turn to speak first.
"Your honor, it was my understanding that Ms. Lopez would be
prohibited from calling witnesses other than those included on the
defense or prosecution witness lists. Mr. Culver was not listed as a
potential state witness, and the defense did not include him on its
witness list, either. I don't even know who he is."
Lesh sounded concerned. "I thought I'd made myself clear, Ms.
Lopez."
"You were quite clear, your honor," Lopez said. "I assure you that the
defense is complying with your order. Mr. Culver is the custodian of
records for the Collision Clinic, and the person holding that position
was in fact included in the state's list of potential witnesses."
"Right," he said. "That's the auto detail shop. The parties
stipulated to the admissibility of the invoice, which is" Lesh fished
around for his list of exhibits "State's Exhibit Five. So if we've got
the stip, why is Mr. Culver here?"
"Because," Lisa said, "he has relevant testimony that goes beyond the
stipulation of the parties."
There was nothing I could do. Anticipating the need to lay the
foundation for the Collision Clinic, I had indicated on my witness list
that I planned to call the business's custodian of records. As a
result, Lopez was allowed to call that person without notifying me in
advance. If his testimony was irrelevant, I could object after the
questions were asked, but there was no way to find out in advance what
he intended to say.
We retook our seats, and the bailiff called Travis Culver to the stand.
Culver's coiffure was the classic white-trash mullet. If you're not
familiar with the name, you're familiar with the look: a short regular
cut in the front, but with length in the back reminiscent of the great
eighties hair bands. Also known as the shlong, since it is both short
and long. Truly versatile. Culver finished off the look with jeans
that had a brown undertone from wear and dirt, and a nascar T-shirt
commemorating a race-car driver killed a few years back.
Lopez started by showing Culver the Collision Clinic invoice. Culver
confirmed that he owned the business, had filled out the invoice, and
had given it to one of his employees, who then cleaned, painted, and
reupholstered Derringer's car. The work was done the day after Kendra
was attacked, and Derringer paid Culver eight hundred dollars cash.
"Mr. Culver, we've heard testimony suggesting that the work on Mr.
Derringer's car only enhanced the market value of the vehicle by a
couple of hundred dollars. Do you agree with that?" Lopez asked.
"Yeah," Culver said, "that's about right. On a car like that, guy
might get a quarter, maybe half, of his money back on resale, so what's
that? About two to four hundred dollars, I guess."
"Is it unusual for a customer to spend that kind of money in your shop?
Money that won't be reflected in the market value of the car?"
"Nope," he said. "Auto body and detail work hardly ever pays off. Some
guy bumps you in traffic and dents the back of your car. Might cost
twelve hundred dollars to fix, even though the dent doesn't lower the
market value by that much. Fact is, I stay in business because people
want their cars to look nice. This car here was in good shape
mechanically, but it looked like " He avoided the expletive. "Well, it
looked bad. Now it looks a lot better. Real clean inside and out.
Lots of people willing to pay eight hundred dollars for that."
"Another thing I notice about this invoice," Lisa said, "is that the
work was completed on a Sunday. Do you normally work on cars on
Sundays?"
"No, we're usually closed," Culver said. Now, that was interesting.
"Why was the work done on my client's car on that Sunday?" Lopez
asked.
"Well," he said, "he had come in earlier that week to talk about
getting the work done. We were actually supposed to do it the Friday
before, but I had to call and cancel on him. A couple of my guys were
out, so we were behind on the cars in the shop that week. So I told
him we'd do it on Sunday. I do that sometimes to keep us from getting
backed up."
"So, if I understand you correctly, Mr. Derringer arranged to have his