." Peter started, but Geary cut him off with a sound that was half laugh, half bark.
"You really don't have any pride, do you? It's beyond me how a man like your father could sire someone as worthless as you."
Peter flushed, but he was too embarrassed at being caught to reply.
"Where are you sneaking off to?" Geary asked.
"I'm not sneaking anywhere. These are my things," Peter said, tilting the carton to show Geary the contents.
Geary kept his eyes on Peter's face and didn't look down. Peter was able to keep eye contact for only a moment before he lost his nerve.
"I'm moving to Steve Mancini's offices," he answered. His voice quivered a little.
Geary nodded slowly. "You and Mancini should get along just fine."
Peter straightened up. He realized that he had packed all his things and there was no more need to stay, but Geary was blocking the doorway.
"I, uh, I really do appreciate the chance you gave me.
I learned a lot these past weeks," Peter said, hoping that he sounded suitably grateful.
"You didn't learn a thing, Peter. You're the same sorry son of a bitch you were when you cheated that poor woman in Portland. Is it going to take the death of Gary Harmon to make you see how truly pathetic you are?"
It suddenly occurred to Peter that Geary might be angry enough to try to talk Jesse Harmon into firing him.
"What are you going to do?" he asked nervously.
Geary made no effort to hide his contempt.
"Don't worry. I won't interfere with your precious case. You've been admitted to practice law in this state' so you're entitled to try any type of case you want to' and the Constitution gives Gary Harmon the right to be represented by the counsel of his choice, no matter how sorry a son of a bitch that lawyer may be. But I will leave PART you with a thought. Gary Harmon is a living, breathing human being. If you continue with this farce and he is executed, you will be as much a murderer as the bastard who killed that poor girl in the park."
DEATH CASE
Chapter SIXTEEN.
There were no fancy decorations in the Whitaker County Circuit Court. The county could not afford them and the enny-conscious rural constituents did not p want them. They wanted justice, fast and without frills.
So, the benches for the spectators were hard, the judge's dais was unadorned and the only dashes of color were in the flags of Oregon and the Unite& States that flanked Circuit Court judge Harry Kuffel's high-backed chair.
judge Kuffel was someone you could easily picture in a bow tie, vest and bowler hat tap-dancing across a vaudeville stage. He was five six with a dancer's slender, but compact, build. He wore his gray hair slicked down 'and his mustache was neatly trimmed. Kuffel's suits were expensive and conservative, but the judge had a ready smile and tried to keep the atmos here in his p courtroom from being overly stuffy.
"The state calls Don Bosco, Your Honor," Becky O'Shay said.
As the psychologist walked to the front of the packed courtroom to take the oath, Judge Kuffel sneaked a look at the clock. It was four-thirty. In one half hour, he would recess for the night. Kuffel looked interested, but was secretly bored. He had decided how he would rule ... ... ... . J
on the defendant's motion to suppress Gary Harmon's statements to Dennis Downes hours ago.
"Will this be your last witness?"
"Yes, Your Honor."
"Very well."
Peter had been relieved when Steve Mancini volunteered to handle the pretrial motion. He knew very little about the law of confessions and was only too glad to let Mancini do the research, write the brief and examine the witnesses.
Peter barely listened while Bosco explained his academic and professional credentials and gave the court a brief outline of his duties as Director of Mental Health for the county. This testimony was strictly for the record, since Bosco was well known to the court.
Peter glanced at Gary. Poor kid. Peter had to admire him. He really tried. Mancini had told Gary to take notes when witnesses were testifying.
They had to train Gary now, so he would know how to fake it when there was a jury in the room. Peter and Steve agreed that subjecting Gary to cross-examination would lead to disaster. Since he would probably not take the stand, it was important to create the illusion that Gary was involved in his defense.
Gary had taken the note writing to heart and scribbled constantly, even though he understood little of what he heard. Peter had glanced at Gary's notes and they were gibberish. Still, he looked great writing. Very intense. Thank God or his good looks.
"Mr. Bosco," O'Shay asked, "were you summoned to the Whitaker police station on the evening of Sandra Whiley's murder?"
&(I was."
"Do you remember when you arrived?"
"Not. exactly, but I'm certain it was sometime between nine and ten."
"Where did you go when you arrived at the station?"
"Into a small room next to the room where Mr. Harmon was being questioned."
.. I'm "Could you see and hear the defendant?"
"Yes. There was a two-way mirror and an intercom that let me hear what was said."
"Was Mr. Harmon's interrogation under way when you arrived?"
"Yes.
"How much of it did you hear?"
"Several hours. Maybe five. The interrogation went on for some time."
"Did Sergeant Downes make any promises in exchange for Mr. Harmon's cooperation?"
"No."
"Did you ever hear Sergeant Downes threaten the defendant?"
"Did it sound like Mr. Harmon was being coerced into talking to Sergeant Downes?"
Bosco hesitated before answering and looked at Steve Mancini. Peter caught the look, but Mancini did not react at all.
"No," Bosco said.
Becky O'Shay checked her notes. Then, she smiled at the witness.
"No further questions."
"Mr. Mancini?" judge Kuffel asked.
"No questions."
Bosco frowned. He tilted his head slightly, as if he was attempting to signal Mancini, but Steve was absorbed in his notes. Bosco stood slowly, as if trying to give Mancini extra time to act. Mancini saw Bosco staring at him and smiled. Bosco's brow knitted, but he walked out of the courtroom. Peter noticed the psychologist's confusion and leaned over to Steve.
"Bosco hesitated when Becky asked whether Gary seemed to be coerced. I think he wanted to say something. Why didn't you follow' up?"
"I, already interviewed Bosco. He can't help us," Mancini whispered.
"Do you have any rebuttal witnesses, Mr. Mancini?"
judge Kuffel asked.
"No, sir."
"Then, we'll recess for the day and I'll hear argument in the morning."
judge Kuffel left the bench quickly and the reporters surged forward. Peter walked over to them, but Becky O'Shay intercepted him.
"Drop by my office before you leave the courthouse, she said.
Steve Mancini talked to Gary while the guards handcuffed him. Mancini patted Gary on the shoulder and said something that made Gary smile. While Peter and Becky talked to the reporters, Mancini gathered up his notes and law books.
"Becky wants to see us," Peter told Steve when he returned to the table.
"What for?"
Peter shrugged. The two attorneys hefted their briefcases and books and headed upstairs.
"What's up?" Peter asked the deputy D.A. when they were all in her office.
O'Shay handed Peter copies of a police report.
"We received this information last week, but we've been checking it out. Now that I've decided to use this witness, I'm obligated to give you his statement."
The two defense lawyers read the police report. When Mancini finished it, he shook his head and chuckled.
"You're not serious about using Kevin as a witness, are you?"
"Dead serious," Becky answered.
"Come on. You can't believe a thing Kevin says. You know he's just trying to weasel out of this federal drug bust."
"I'm sure that's what you'll argue to the jury."
"We've got a problem," Steve Mancini told Peter as soon as they were outside the courthouse. "I've got to get off Gary's case."
"Why?"
"I've got a conflict of interest. I can't represent a client if another client is going to be a key witness against him.
"What if I cross-examine Booth?"
Mancini shook his head. "If I know something about B.oath that will help Gary and I don't tell you, I'm violating my duty to Gary. But if I use confidential information I obtained from Booth to help Gary, I'm violating my duty to Booth. Even staying on as co-counsel presents the appearance of p I impro riety. I have no choice. I've got to get off the case."
"Jesus, Steve. How am I supposed to try this case alone?"
"Hey, I'm sympathetic. I feel bad about talking you into taking the case. If you don't think you can do it, you can resign.
But Peter knew that resigning was not an option. He had cut himself off from his father and quit his job. If he tried to get a position anywhere, he would receive references from Hale, Greaves and Amos Geary that would make Saddam Hussein look like a better job can I J didate. Without the Harmons' retainer he would be dead broke. A victory for Gary Harmon was his only way out of the hole he'd dug for himself.
"No, I can't let Gary down," Peter said.
Mancini clapped Peter on the back 1"That's what I wanted to hear. Besides, I have confidence in you.
You're a quick study, Peter. This criminal stuff is a cinch. This might even work out better for you in the long run. When you win, you won't have to share the credit."
The Ponderosa was on the opposite side of Whitaker from the Stallion. it catered to workingmen and solitary drinkers. Its jukebox played country and the waitresses unds to life.
were older women who had lost a few to an could get Most of the time it was a place where a in totally sloshed in peace and quiet. Occasionally, it was the scene of violent barroom brawls.
osa regulars.
Barney Pullen fit right in with the Ponder He had a beer gut, a bushy black beard and a don'truck-with-me attitude he had picked up in the Marines.
football was He liked to fish, hunt and drink beer. NFL as intellectual as he got. After the Marines, Pullen worked as a cop in Eugene, Oregon, until an incident with a suspect occurred. Pullen wasn't exactly fired, but he didn't exactly quit the force, either. The whole affair was left murky and Pullen moved to Whitaker, where he worked in his brother's body shop.
One day, Pullen was assigned the job of figuring out what caused the knocking sound that Steve Mancini heard whenever his Cadillac went over fifty. In between d pro football, Pullen mendiscussions of car engines an tioned his police background. Mancini needed an investigator with a knowledge of cars for a personal injury case and Pullen agreed to work on the case. He had done spot investigation for Mancini ever since and Peter had hired him for the Harmon case on Mancini's recommendation when the other investigators Mancini had mentioned turned out to be unavailable.
Jake Cataldo was tending bar when Pullen stepped in out of the late afternoon sun. Pullen blinked a few times and waited for his eyes to adjust to the dark.
"Hi, Jake," Pullen said, as he hoisted himself onto a bar stool next to a couple of regulars.
Cataldo was a big man with short, curly black hair ho is ' and the pate complexion of someone w indoors during the day.
"Hi, Barney. What can I do you for?"
Pullen ordered a beer. Cataldo turned to get it for him.
"What are you doin' with yourself lately?" the bartender asked, when he placed the glass of beer in front of Pullen.
"You been reading about the girl who was murdered in the park?"
Cataldo nodded.
"I'm still working at the garage and I'm doing a little investigating for the guy who's trying the case."
"No shit? You know, that Harmon kid was in here.
the night that girl was killed. Sat right here at the bar. I served him myself."
Is Harmon a regular?"
"Not really. I mean, he's stopped in once or twice."
"Then why do you remember him?"
"He was picked up the next day for the murder. It was on the news. His picture was in the paper."
"You don't happen to remember what time he came in, do you?"
"Actually, I do. It was around eleven fifty-five."
"How do you remember that?"
"There was a Mariners game on and the damn thing wasstillgoingafterseventeen' rungs-Then Griffeyhits In this shot and the game's over. I glanced at my watch. It was eleven fifty-three, eleven fifty-four. Something like that, but not exactly midnight. That's when the Harmon kid sat down and asked for coffee. I didn't hear him, because I turned away to switch the channel. I told him to hang on. I remember that clear as day."
"How'd he look?"
"A little rocky." Cataldo shrugged. "He was quiet.
He had the coffee and something to eat. Then, he had a few drinks.When he left, he was weaving, but I thought he'd make it home okay."
"What did he eat?"
"Some biscuits and gravy."
"Biscuits and gravy?" Pullen repeated, while thinking that this wouldn't be his dish of choice if he'd just slaughtered a woman.
"Did you notice anything unusual about Harmon's clothes?"
The bartender considered the question for a moment, then shook his head.
"No blood?" Pullen asked.
Cataldo thought about that. "You see how the lighting is in here. There coulda been something I didn't see.
But I didn't notice blood."
Chapter SEVENTEEN.
Carmen Polinsky was a forty-six-year-old mother of two who was married to an accountant. For twenty years, she had been a housewife. Before that she worked in a bookstore. Nothing in her past had prepared her for a job interview for the position of assassin for the state of Oregon. This job interview was technically called "voir dire" and it denoted the process by which a jury was selected in Gary Harmon's trial.
judge Kuffel had denied the motion to suppress Gary's statements, but he had granted Peter's motion for individual voir dire ecau o the unusua nature of a death case. None of the of jurors were in the courtroom to witness Carmen Polinsky's distress when Becky O'Shay asked her if she had an attitude concerning the death penalty that would make it impossible for her to vote for a death sentence if Gary Harmon was convicted of aggravated murder. Whenever anyone mentioned the death n pe alty, Mrs. Polinsky gripped her purse so tightly that her knuckles turned white. It was obvious that she would rather be in Zaire during an Ebola outbreak than in this courtroom in Whitaker. It was equally obvious that Mrs. Polinsky would never, ever condemn anyone to death.
"To tell the truth Mrs. Polinsky started.
O'Shay leaned forward, praying that Polinsky would confess her inability to kill for the state. Normally, O'Shay would have gotten rid of her with a peremptory challenge, which can be used to excuse a juror without stating a reason, but it was near the end of the second week of jury selection and the prosecutor had used all of her peremptories. , Now, she could get rid of Mrs. Polinsky only by convincing the judge that she could not be fair to the state. "I honestly don't know," Polinsky shook her head.
she concluded.
O'Shay went at Mrs. Polinsky from a different angle.
Her job was to manipulate the woman into saying that she could never condemn someone to death. If O'Shay succeeded, it would be Peter's job to rehabilitate the woman by convincing her that she could vote to kill n, because that was the only way he would Gary Harmo be able to keep her on the jury. The absurdity of the position in which he found himself was not lost on Peter.
Mrs. Polinsky vacillated again. judge Kuffel glanced at the clock and said, "It's almost five. I'm going to stop for the day. Mrs. Polinsky, I want you to think about Ms. O'Shay's question. When we reconvene tomorrow morning, I'll expect a decisive answer from you. A 'yes' or 'no' answer. Understood?"
Mrs. Polinsky sped out of the courtroom.
"I'll see you two in chambers," the judge commanded as he left the bench. Peter gave a few words of encouragement to Gary as the guards cuffed him and led him away. While he was gathering up his paperwork, Peter noticed Becky in an animated discussion with Dennis Downes at the rear of the courtroom. Downes was nodding his head vigorously in response to something O'Shay had asked and Becky was grinning broadly.