"Is that you, Lisa?" he mumbled.
A second later he was begging for mercy as Marlene literally had him by the shorthairs. "Shall I just yank them out?" she hissed.
"No, no," he cried. "I promise, it's over between Lisa and me. Ow! Ow! Okay, uncle. I knew all along you were my lovely wife, Marlene."
"That's better, lover boy," Marlene purred.
"So what brings you to Boise so late, my dear? I was expecting you in the morning."
"Carnal desires," she replied. "And maybe to deliver a little good news for my best boyfriend." He'd already heard the report about finding Maria Santacristina; now she filled him in on that after-noon's confrontation with Huttington and Barnhill. "One of the conditions for not seeking the death penalty is that Huttington answer truthfully at any court case he is required to attend, including yours on Monday morning."
"Oh, most beauteous and intelligent siren, this is wonderful news beyond all hope," Karp waxed.
"Now, that's more like it," Marlene said, giggling and allowing her hands to wander.
"I'll say," he replied.
On Sunday, Karp had interviewed a pale and quivering Kip Huttington, who'd been placed on suicide watch in the Boise city jail. They went over Huttington's testimony, which left him staring blankly at the table in front of him as one tear after another splashed down. Karp did not feel sorry for him one bit, either.
The next stop had been to see Rufus Porter, who started to play tough guy again-saying his dad would get him a lawyer "and get my co-urst confession tossed out"-until Marlene dropped his Valknut medallion on the table. "Recognize this, Rufus?" she asked. "We have plenty of bits and pieces, including that tattoo under your biceps, which comes in loud and clear in the photograph Hamm took. Not to mention the feds want to talk to you about some weapons violations with your fingerprints all over them. Ever hear what fed pens are like? State joints are kindergartens by comparison. Now, do you still want to play games?"
Porter's lip started to tremble, and then he started to blubber. "No, what do you want to know?"
Karp looked around the courtroom and saw Coach J. C. Anderson sitting in back, only this time he was sitting on the plaintiff's side. The coach nodded and he returned the acknowledgment. Marlene was sitting in the front row with Fulton, Lucy, Ned, and a young woman Karp did not recognize as he walked up to say hello.
"Oh, there you are," his wife said, and then touched the young woman lightly on her shoulder. "Butch, I'd like you to meet Maly Laska."
Laska appeared nervous, but her handshake was firm. "Nice to meet you," she said, then looked at Marlene. "Boy, when your wife says she's going to do something, she doesn't hold back, does she?"
Karp smiled, thinking of the many ways that applied to Marlene Ciampi. "No, she doesn't," he said. "Thanks for coming… And thanks for what you did-that took courage."
Laska blushed and mumbled something about it not being a big deal. Karp excused himself and joined his co-counsel and client at the plaintiff's table, ignoring requests by several members of the press who'd followed him down the aisle.
Unlike during the first days of trial, when it was still just a civil lawsuit by a small university baseball coach for what the press had essentially boiled down to wrongful termination, the courtroom was now packed with reporters. They smelled blood and were schooling in preparation for a feeding frenzy.
Karp rose with everyone else when Judge Sam Allen strode into the courtroom, wondering if this was how the Indian war chief Crazy Horse felt when told about Custer entering the Valley of the Little Big Horn. Bring 'em on.
The massacre commenced when Zusskin called James Larkin to the stand, though like Custer, neither the lawyer nor the investigator seemed to sense the impending disaster. Instead, Zusskin reviewed the abbreviated transcript and then asked Larkin why it was only nine pages long.
"Well, my job was to ask only a few pertinent questions and get the answers," Larkin said. "You have to remember, this wasn't for a court hearing, where it's my understanding that both parties receive all of the information. I sometimes interview hundreds of people, and if I transcribed every four-hour conversation and kept every tape, we'd never get anywhere. Think of it as, I was the person asking the questions for the ACAA panel and then reporting the answers. Nothing more."
"And what were those questions, Mr. Larkin?" Zusskin asked.
Larkin held up his big hands and ticked off the questions one fat finger at a time. "Did Coach O'Toole know about the party? Did he contact the escort service and pay for the…um, entertainment? Did he pay for alcohol that he knew would be consumed by the two recruits, who were underage? And did he attempt to interfere with my investigation by telling Mason and Dalton not to cooperate or to lie?"
"And those questions were answered in the nine pages of the transcript you provided, in accordance with the rules and regulations of the ACAA, to the hearing panel?"
"Yes."
"Was there anything else that was substantive or relevant that perhaps you should have included?"
"No, not that I can think of. The interviews weren't all that long because, as I said, I was really only after those specific answers to my specific questions."
"So if Mr. Mason and Mr. Dalton testified in this courtroom that your transcript was missing statements in which they denied that Coach O'Toole did these things, your answer would be?"
"What can I say, they're lying," he answered, looking at the jury.
Zusskin gave a meaningful look to the jury and said, "No more questions. Your witness."
As Karp approached the witness stand Larkin tried to stare him down, but he got such a dose of "the Karp Glare" that he wilted, looked over at the jury, and laughed in his high, squeaky voice.
Karp held up the abbreviated transcript. "This is nine pages long," he said. "Steele Dalton and Michael Mason both testified that most of what they said isn't on here."
Larkin leaned back in the witness chair and looked at his fingernails. "Anything substantive, or relevant, is included in that transcript, all in accordance with ACAA protocol."
"And this is the transcript that the ACAA panel that heard Mikey O'Toole's case used to suspend him?" Karp asked.
"Well, that and some other things," Larkin responded.
"And if I recall your testimony at a pretrial hearing regarding the admissibility of this transcript, the tape recording of these interviews was destroyed?"
"No, actually, what happened is I had my secretary transcribe the recording and then I used the tape again for another interview," Larkin replied. "Now I wish I hadn't."
"I see," Karp said with a slight smile. "Then you will be happy to hear that I have that tape and wouldn't you know, you didn't record over it after all." He reached behind him for the cassette tape on the plaintiff's table and held it up.
"Your Honor, it is the plaintiff's intention to offer into evidence this copy of a tape marked on the outside 'Dalton-Mason' and also a certified transcript from that tape, one hundred and thirty-five pages in all. Your Honor, I am compelled to inform the court that we have good reason to represent to you that the defense has been well aware of this tape and its contents. We, of course, have copies for counsel, which"-he turned to see that Meyers was giving Zusskin a copy-"have just been handed to them."
The judge raised his eyebrows and looked over at Zusskin, who sat in stunned silence. He appeared to be unable to speak, so the young attorney next to him shouted, "Objection!"