“What’s your source?”
“That reporter. He got the tip. Vaulding put out the word during recess to expect fireworks when court reconvenes.”
“I know that too,” Steve said. “It’s what Tracy and I were just talking about. I did a number on the ballistics expert. Which ordinarily would have been great. Except for the bit about roughing up the gun barrel. That’s where he turns around and kicks us in the teeth. But it’s no surprise, it’s just what we were expecting.”
“Yeah, well the word is the shit’s hitting the fan. And how does that add up? The press already has the scoop on the file. You know he’s gonna club you with it. The press knows he’s gonna club you with it. What’s the big deal?”
“There’s one possibility, Mark, and it’s just what we were discussing.”
“What’s that?”
“Timberlaine swears he found the file in his room. He has no idea how it got there. If that’s true, the worst Vaulding can do is call the cop who served the warrant and show the file was found in his room. Big deal. It’s incriminating, but old hat. No, the kick in the teeth, the hold-the-phone bombshell, is if Timberlaine is lying about finding the file in his room. And, instead of the cop who served the warrant, Vaulding’s next witness is some shopkeeper who will testify Timberlaine bought the file.”
“Oh, shit,” Taylor said.
“Right,” Tracy said. “Or maybe even asked him to recommend what to use to rough up a gun barrel.”
“Oh, come on,” Taylor said. “He couldn’t be that dumb.”
“Yeah,” Steve said dryly.
They pushed their way into the courtroom. Whatever word Vaulding had put out, people must have believed him, because the place was packed. Mark and Tracy couldn’t get their usual seats and wound up standing in the back.
Steve pushed his way through the crowd up to the defense table, where court officers had already brought in Timberlaine.
“What’s this all about?” he demanded as Steve sat down.
“I was hoping you could tell me. Vaulding’s got some sort of surprise. I don’t know what it is.”
“Hell.”
“You said it. You sure you told me everything about the file?”
“Sure. What else is there to tell?”
“That’s what I’m asking you.”
“Nothing. I found it in my room, I don’t know where it came from.”
“Great,” Steve said.
The jury was led in. Judge Hendrick took his place on the bench. When they were all in position, Vaulding made a star’s entrance, walking in from the back of the courtroom, pushing his way through the reporters and photographers gathered there. He strode up to the prosecution table and stood there, almost striking a pose.
Judge Hendrick regarded him with some irritation. “Well, call your next witness,” he said.
“Call Frederick Henson,” Vaulding said.
A middle-aged man with a sad-eyed, droopy sort of face made his way to the witness stand.
Confirming Steve Winslow’s worst fears. Not a cop. A shopkeeper.
As Henson passed by the defense table, Steve heard a sharp intake of breath. He turned to see that Timberlaine had gone white as a sheet. “Smile,” Steve said out of the corner of his mouth.
Timberlaine gawked at him. His lips trembled. His eyes blinked.
“No matter how bad it is, there’s nothing we can do about it now,” Steve said. “Just grin and bear it.”
When the witness had been installed on the stand, Vaulding said, “State your name.”
“Frederick Henson.”
“Mr. Henson, I ask you to look around the courtroom and tell me if you see anyone you recognize.”
“Yes, sir. Him.”
“Let the record show that the witness is pointing at the defendant, Russ Timberlaine. That is correct, is it not, Mr. Henson? It is the defendant, Russ Timberlaine, whom you recognize?”
“Yes, sir. That’s him all right.”
“Where do you know him from?”
“He was in my shop.”
“He was a customer in you shop?”
“That’s right.”
“When was this?”
“On July 16th.”
“Are you sure of that date?”
“Yes, I am.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“When you asked me, I looked it up.”
“I see. And just what was it the defendant bought from you on that occasion?”
“A Colt.45 revolver.”
33
“Why the hell did you buy the gun?”
“Take it easy,” Timberlaine said.
“Easy, hell,” Steve said. “You lie to me, you hold out on me. I prepare my whole defense on the basis of the fact there’s no way in hell the cops can prove you bought that gun. And what happens? The whole thing blows up in my face because you did buy that gun.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Oh? You mean the witness is lying?”
“No. He’s not lying.”
“How can that be?”
“Well, I bought that gun, but it’s not the one I showed you.”
“What?”
“The gun I brought you in your office-the one I said I found substituted for the real gun-well, I didn’t buy it, and everything I told you was true. I found that gun just like I said.”
“And the one you bought?”
Timberlaine grimaced. “Like I said, I was afraid someone was trying to frame me with the gun. So I pulled a switch.”
Steve looked at him. “You pulled a switch?”
“Yeah.”
“When?”
“After.”
“After what?”
“After I gave you the gun. To test the bullets. When you gave it back to me I substituted it for my gun.”
“Wait a minute. By that you mean-?”
“The gun I bought. The one the witness just testified about.”
“You bought that gun and substituted it for the one you found?”
“That’s right.”
“You bought that gun before you came to my office?”
“That’s right. The day before.”
“You filed the serial number off it and carved the initial R in the handle?”
“Yes, I did.”
“What did you use to file off the serial number?”
“Why?”
“Why do you think?”
“Oh. No, it wasn’t the file found in my room. There’s a grindstone in the tool shed. I used that.”
“The day before you came to my office?”
“That’s right.”
“But the gun you brought me in my office was-?”
“The other gun. The one I found.”
“You had me test the bullets and then you switched guns?”
“That’s right.”
“There’s no chance you switched the guns first?”
“No. I didn’t.”
“There’s no chance the gun you gave me and had me test bullets in was the gun you bought?”
“Not at all.”
“And the bullets I tested are in a safe-deposit box?”
“That’s right.”
“Where’s the gun?”
“In a safe-deposit box.”
“The same safe-deposit box?”
“No, a different one.”
“You rented a different box just for the gun?”
“Sure.”
“So the gun and the bullets are in separate boxes?”
“Hell, they’re in separate banks.”
Steve sighed. “Well, thank God for that.”
“Why’s that?”
“We may have to produce the gun. If so, we may not necessarily want to produce the bullets.”
“Why do we have to produce the gun?”
“Why do you think? Look, here’s the way it’s gonna go. Vaulding’s probably gonna serve a subpoena duces tecum on us, ordering us to produce the gun you bought. Of course, he won’t expect us to do it.”
“Why not?”
“Because he thinks he already has it. People’s Exhibit Four. The subpoena will be just to embarrass us. He orders us to produce the gun. We can’t do it. He smiles and points out to the jury that the gun you bought is identical to the gun that’s been introduced in court as the murder weapon. As far as the jury’s concerned, that will be enough to convince ’em the gun in court is the gun you bought.”
“It is the gun I bought.
“I know,” Steve said. “But only because you switched guns. The jury doesn’t know that. As far as they’re concerned, there’s only two guns in the case, the real gun and the fake gun, and they’re both here in court. They don’t know about your substituting a fake gun you bought for a fake gun you found. As far as they’re concerned, there’s only one fake gun. And it’s the murder weapon, and it’s here in court, and the witness on the stand just testified to the fact that you bought it.”