Peter thought fast.
"This may not help Mr. Mammon. Actually, your answer could really hurt his case. But I've got to know if he's telling us the truth. If he's not, he could end up serving a long prison term."
"What did you want to know?" Booth asked, interested in anything that would keep Christopher Mammon off his back.
"You know when you were busted at Whitaker State.
Was Sandra Whiley bringing you thirty thousand dollars or three thousand?
It will make a big difference at sentencing. Mammon claims that Whiley was only going to bring three thousand and that he didn't know how much cocaine was in the Ziploc bags."
Booth snorted. "Mammon's lying. He knew exactly how much dope was in the bags. He weighed them himself. And he knew how much dough Whiley was bringing because he told her to bring the thirty grand."
"Sorry to hear that. Say, was Mammon aware that Whiley was Working for the feds?"
"Not before we got busted. But after, I said the bitch must have turned us in. Chris was furious. He said he was gonna check it out.
"That's what we heard," Peter said solemnly.
"Where'd you meet Whiley?"
Booth tilted his head to the side and looked at Peter suspiciously. "I thought you were interested in Mammon."
ng "I am. He says he didn't know Whiley well. I thought, if you knew her, you could set the record straight."
:ch "He's lyin' to you. Personally, I think he was screwing her."
er 4 4 "YOU do?"
"The bitch would do anything for cocaine."
Suddenly Booth laughed.
"What's so funny?"
Ut "If Whiley was working for the feds there's gonna be a lot of nervous people in this burg."
"Why's that?"
n- "She never had much money, so she had to earn her if snow. One way she did that was by making deliveries.
up She could name a lot of names."
"Like who?"
!r- ""Mr. Football' for one. It would serve the cock n- sucker right, the way he left me hanging as soon as I said I didn't have any money."
the. "Who are you talking about?"
irs Before Booth could answer, the door opened and the !guard walked in. When he saw Peter, he put his hand on to his gun.
w "Who are you and what are you doing in here?"
"I'm an attorney," Peter said with righteous indignation."
"This man is a witness in the Harmon case. I have in- a constitutional right to talk to him."
ig- "Let's see some identification," the guard said, taking the gun out and pointing it at Peter.
iat "No problem. I'm just going to get my wallet, see."
Peter pulled the wallet out slowly and handed a busi :ch ness card to the officer. The policeman studied Peter for he a minute.
"Yeah, you're Harmon's lawyer. I recognize you now.
Y_ I don't know what you think you're doing, but sneaking in here on my watch is going to get your ass hauled ter down to the station."
in "You better check before you try that," Peter said with more bravado than he felt. "Whitaker doesn't have enough money to cover the damages I'll win if you arrest me for talking to a witness in a death penalty case."
The guard looked a little uncertain, but he stood his ground. Several people had clustered in the doorway to see what was going on. The officer turned to one of them.
"Nurse, call the station house and ask for one of the sergeants. Tell them we have a situation here."
Dennis Downes had no idea whether Peter's shenanigans were legal or illegal. Peter was an attorney and Booth was a key witness. As soon as he learned what Peter had done, he called Becky O'Shay. O'Shay had sworn long and loudly, then told Downes she would be at the station in a few minutes.
"Just what do you think you're doing, Hale?" O'Shay demanded the minute the door to the interrogation room closed behind her.
"My duty under the Constitution of the United States."
"Your duty, my ass. That man is my witness and he's in protective custody.
You are in big trouble. The worst you're looking at is a bar complaint and I've got someone checking to see if you've broken any laws."
Peter was furious with O'Shay, but he did not let it show. Instead, he asked in a casual tone, "Do you think what I did was as bad as hiding the fact that your victim, Miss Whiley, was the woman who was bringing the thirty thousand dollars to Christopher Mammon and Kevin Booth on the evening of their arrest?"
Peter noticed, with satisfaction, that O'Shay's normally pale complexion was now thoroughly bleached of color.
"Do you think it's as bad as concealing from me the fact that Miss Whiley was working with the cops, a fact that Mammon suspected and that drove him into a murderous rage, thus making him a very viable suspect in Miss Whiley's murder?"
"What ... what are you talking about?" O'Shay stuttered.
"I'm talking about a serious violation of your duty as a prosecutor to turn over to the defense all exculpatory evidence in your possession. I think the fact that you knew a homicidal maniac like Christopher Mammon 'had it in for the deceased and failed to mention that little tidbit to me constitutes a gross violation of your duties as a prosecutor, an officer of the court and a human being."
"Mammon didn't kill Whiley, your client did," O'Shay said.
"That's for a jury to decide, not you."
"In case you've forgotten, hotshot, a jury did decide."
"They didn't have all the facts."
"This bullshit about Mammon is just that, bullshit," O'Shay shot back, seemingly over her initial shock. "I gave you all the information you were entitled to."
"We'll see about that. I think it's time to go to judge Kuffel."
For a brief second, O'Shay looked panicky. Then, she sat down across from Peter and, in a reasonable tone, said, "Listen, Peter, I shouldn't have gotten so angry. I know the pressure you've been under. And there's Harmon's family. This has been tough on everyone. But I can tell you that you're barking up the wrong tree."
"I've seen the DEA reports you sent to Steve Mancini."
"What are you talking about?"
"The reports that mention the CRI who was involved with the drug deal at Whitaker State where Mammon and Booth were arrested."
"I didn't send any DEA reports to Steve Mancini."
"Someone did. They were in with your discovery material."
"Let me see them."
"I don't have them. They're in Steve's file."
"I, think you're confused, Peter. If Whiley was working with the government, I would have been told."
O'Shay stood up and headed for the door.
"Where are you going?"
"Home. It's Sunday' "Are you going to tell Downes to let me 90 ?1 "As soon as I'm certain that you haven't broken any laws."
"And when will that be?"
"When the deputy I've got working on the project lets me know."
"That's fine by me, Becky. You're just increasing the damages I'm going to receive when I sue the Whitaker police, the Whitaker District Attorney's Office and you, personally."
The door to the interrogation room slammed shut and Peter swore.
The police held Peter for two more hours, then they let him go. While he was in custody, it occurred to Peter that he should make a copy of the DEA reports to show to the judge when he filed his motion for a new trial.
Peter's car was still at the hospital, so he hiked there and picked it up. He arrived at the office a little after eight.
All the lights were out. Peter went directly to the file room and took out the envelope with the police reports.
He shuffled through them twice before realizing that someone had removed the DEA reports from the file.
Peter's first reaction was anger at Becky O'Shay. She had to be behind the theft. She was the only person to whbm he had mentioned the reports. He felt so stupid for doing that, but he never would have believed she would go this far to hold on to her victory. She must havekept him in custody long enough to send someone to the office to retrieve the reports from the file.
Unfortunately for O'Shay, there was someone else who knew about the reports. Peter walked to his office and dialed Steve Mancini. It was going to look very bad for O'Shay when Steve confirmed the existence of the two documents in front of judge Kuffel. There would definitely be enough circumstantial evidence to support an inquiry by the Oregon State Bar into O'Shay's behavior.
"Steve, this is Peter," he said as soon as Mancini picked up.
"How are you doing?" Mancini asked. "You didn't look so good after the verdict."
"I didn't feel so good, either, but something has happened that's gotten me excited. I found out that Sandra Whiley was involved with the drug deal that went sour at Whitaker State. The one where Chris Mammon and Kevin Booth were arrested."
"What!"
"Yeah. I think Whiley was working with the police and Mammon found out. It gives him a terrific motive to kill her."
"That's incredible. How did you work that out?"
"I hope you're not mad, but after I learned about the relationship between Mammon and Whiley I looked in your file on Kevin Booth. I couldn't ask Amos Geary to let me see Mammon's file and I remembered that you'd have the same discovery. I should have called you first, but I was so excited I i4st did it."
"That's okay. You shouldn't have looked at the file.
It's confidential. But Gary's life is at stake."
"Thanks, Steve. Anyway, I found two reports in your file from the DEA," Peter went on. Then, he told Steve about his interview with Booth at the hospital, his detention by the police and his discovery that the reports had been removed from the file.
"Becky must have had someone break in here and remove them while I was at the police station," Peter concluded, "but she made one mistake. She forgot that you've seen the reports. You can confirm their existence.
Once the judge realizes that I saw the reports around noon, I told her about them around four and they were gone by eight, he's going to reach the same conclusion I have and O'Shay's ass will be grass. Kuffel is going to have to give Gary a new trial, once he determines that Becky failed to turn over key evidence that points to another suspect."
"These reports," Mancini asked hesitantly, "what did they look like?"
"They were typed up. Each one was a couple of pages long. They were written by DEA agents."
"Pete, I honestly don't remember seeing any reports from the DEA in the discovery I received from Becky."
"Well, they were in there."
"I'm sure they were. I mean, you just read the reports a few hours ago. All I'm saying is that I haven't looked at that file in a while and I just don't recall those reports.
"How can that be?"
"Booth's case wasn't that big a deal. I think I read through the reports once, real fast. He told me his version. All the stuff I needed to win at the prelim was in the report that the campus security guy filed. I'm sorry.
I'll spend some serious time thinking about it, but right now I don't remember any DEA reports."
Peter hung up in a daze. He had been counting on Steve to support him. If Mancini could not remember the reports, he had nothing. Then, Peter recalled the last thing Kevin Booth said before the guard burst into Booth's hospital room. Something about Whiley making cocaine deliveries to pay for her drugs.
Booth had said that several people in Whitaker would have to worry if Whiley was working for the police and she named names. The only person he'd had time to mention before the' guard came in was "Mr. Football," who had dropped Booth when he found out Booth did not have any money.
Peter walked to the front door of the law-office and inspected it. He did the same with every other door that led into the building. None of 'them showed signs of forced entry. The person who took the DEA reports had a key to Steve Mancini's law office. Peter did not want to believe it. Could Steve have taken the reports? Peter raced back to the file room and opened the Booth file again. The phone message about the deal offer from O'Shay was also missing. Peter felt sick. Why was Mancini helping Becky O'Shay, and what were they covering up?
Suddenly, Peter recalled Steve's failure to tell him about his interview with Don Bosco. It was Steve who suggested that Peter convince Gary to plead guilty. Mancini had given him the names of three investigators, but the only one who was available was the incompetent Barney Pullen. Peter had assumed that Steve Mancini was his ally from the moment he'd become Gary Harmon's lawyer, but now it appeared that Mancini had a hidden agenda of his own and Peter suspected that it included saddling Gary with the lawyer least qualified to handle his case.
Peter parked his car at the edge of the dirt drive that led to the garage and surveyed Amos Geary's house. Like its owner, it was broken down and aging. Weeds had overgrown a front yard that had not seen a mower in recent times, the paint was peeling and faded. Only God knew the original color.
There was a light on behind a worn curtain in the front room. Peter hesitated before getting out of the car.
He could drive away, but to what destination?
One of the steps leading to the porch was cracked and Peter stumbled over it. He caught himself by breaking his fall with his hands. This was not an auspicious sign.
Peter thought about turning back, but the door opened.
When Peter looked up, he found Amos Geary, dressed in a bathrobe and striped pajamas, looking down at him with contempt.
"Jesus, Hale, you are pathetic. Can't you even walk up a flight of stairs without making a mess of it?"
"Good evening, Mr. Geary," Peter stuttered as he stood up awkwardly. His hands stung where they had smacked into the wooden porch.
"What are you doing on my property?" Geary demanded.
"I'm in trouble."
"I'm not interested."
Geary turned to go inside.
"Wait!" Peter shouted. "It's not me. It's Gary. Gary Harmon is in trouble."
Geary paused. He turned back. There was a chill in the evening air. A gust of wind went right through Peter and he shuddered.
"What do you want from me?"
"You're the only person I can turn to."