Parnell Hall - The Wrong Gun

“That would be hardly just,” Veronica said. “Women have trouble relating to me too.”

“I have trouble relating to anything right now,” Steve said. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to skimp on the amenities, but at the moment I have more problems than you could believe.”

“So I understand. I only hope I haven’t done anything to add to them.”

“So do I. I assume Mark Taylor has given you a rundown of the present situation?”

“Oh, yes. He’s really been most helpful.” Veronica favored Mark Taylor with a smile, which he returned somewhat sheepishly.

“That’s good,” Steve said. “I was wondering if we could come to some sort of understanding.”

“I don’t see what there is to understand,” Veronica said. “I gather you are trying a murder case.” She shrugged and smiled. “But that’s your business. As far as I’m concerned, any guns Mr. Taylor may have purchased are entirely coincidental and not to be inferred.”

Steve grinned. “Miss-I’m sorry. Tell me. Is it Mrs., Miss, or Ms.?”

“It’s Veronica.”

“Veronica, I think you and I are going to get along. At the moment I happen to have a little problem involving guns, and I’m hoping you can help me out.”

“In what way?”

“I’m confronted with a physical impossibility. The prosecution just matched up a gun with the fatal bullet. And there’s no way that gun fired that bullet.”

Veronica opened her mouth to speak.

Steve held up his hand. “I know, I know. Ballistics says it did. So let me rephrase that. There’s no way that gun was used to commit the crime. At the time of the murder, that gun was not available. It could not have been used.”

Veronica frowned. “What are you saying?”

“Exactly that. There’s no reason for you to know the circumstances-in fact it’s better if you don’t know-but take it as a given that that gun did not commit the crime. That we know for sure. So we have a series of seemingly contradictory statements here. We need to resolve them. This is where I need your expertise.”

“In what way?”

“Listen carefully. Here are certain things we know to be true. One, the gun fired the fatal bullet. We know that from the markings on it. We can identify it absolutely as coming from the gun. Two, the fatal bullet is the cause of death. We know that from the autopsy. It was removed from the head of the decedent and identified by the medical examiner as the sole cause of death. And three, the gun, People’s Exhibit Six, could not have fired that bullet into the head of the decedent, because it was not available at the time of the murder.”

Veronica nodded. “An out-and-out contradiction.”

“Exactly.”

“So some of your data must be wrong.”

“If so I would love to have it pointed out to me.”

“The ballistics expert could be in error. The medical examiner could be in error. Or there could have been a substitution of bullet or gun at some point down the line.”

Steve Winslow nodded. “True, and I’ve taken those things into consideration. Frankly, I don’t see how any of them could have happened.”

“So?”

“So, I’m eliminating the impossible and dealing with the improbable.”

Veronica frowned. “You’ll pardon me if that’s not entirely clear.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m saying, assume those things didn’t happen. Assume the following are true: the bullet came from the gun, the bullet killed the victim, the gun was not there at the time of the murder.” Steve shrugged. “That leaves us with an insoluble problem.”

“It certainly does,” Veronica said. “So what do you expect me to do about it?”

“Solve it.”

The phone began ringing while Steve Winslow was still unlocking his apartment door. He cursed his deadbolt, a necessity in a New York City apartment, even in that relatively respectable section of Greenwich Village. Steve threw open the door, fumbled for the light switch on the wall, missed it, spotted the phone across the room in the faint street light coming through the window, and, spurred on by another insistent ring, decided to go for it. Predictably, he barked his shin on the coffee table, cursed loudly, lunged across the room, grabbed the phone and picked it up.

“Finally,” Taylor said. “I’ve been callin’ you for hours.”

“I took Tracy out to dinner. What’s up?”

“We blew it.”

“What?”

“The whole assignment. We fucked it up somehow.”

“How is that possible? Carrie Timberlaine set it up.”

“Yeah, that part was fine. I took Veronica out there, Carrie let us in. She didn’t have the keys to the gun cases, but that guy Martin did, and he let us in and Veronica did her stuff.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Someone tipped the cops. Lieutenant Sanders showed up, mad as hell, wanting to know what the hell was going on.”

“Did you tell him?”

“Am I stupid? Carrie Timberlaine stepped in, told him she was having her father’s gun collection appraised, and what the hell business was it of his?”

“That go over big?”

“What do you think? At that time of night? The long and the short of it is he kept us tied up there until Vaulding could rush over a subpoena.”

“He subpoenaed you?”

“No, her. Veronica, I mean. She’s to appear in court tomorrow morning.”

“You don’t sound happy, Mark.”

“Happy, hell. The one person in the world I didn’t want involved in this case. The one person in the world I didn’t want the cops to find. And what’s the upshot? Tomorrow morning at ten o’clock she’s witness for the prosecution.”

“There’s a saving grace.”

“What’s that?”

“Vaulding won’t know what to ask her.”

“He’ll ask her everything. Jesus Christ, Steve. You think he’s not going to ask her about guns?”

“That doesn’t mean he’ll ask her about your gun.”

“I was there. He may ask her why.”

“You’re getting worked up over nothing, Mark.”

“I’m glad to hear it. I’ve been going slightly nuts. I’ve been trying to reach you for the last two hours.”

“I told you. I took Tracy out to dinner. I just dropped her off.”

“Good for you. I haven’t had dinner yet, and I don’t think I could eat a thing.”

“Where are you?”

“Back in the office. When I couldn’t reach you, I told the switchboard to keep trying and drove back to town. Good thing I did.”

“Why?”

“ ’Cause there’s a lot coming in. As you might expect, considering the bombshell Vaulding dropped today. That was just this morning. Now that he’s grabbed your expert off, you wouldn’t believe what they’re saying.”

“Who?”

“The cops. The press. There’s a lot of speculation going on, but the bottom line is plea-bargain.”

“Is that on the level?”

“Absolutely. Wanna hear how they figure?”

“Not really, but I guess I better.”

“O.K. Here’s the latest line. After Manning’s bombshell today you got an adjournment to see if you wanna cross-examine. Tomorrow morning he’s first up on the stand. The best the cops and the press can figure, the bit with Veronica was a last-ditch effort to come up with something you can use to cross-examine-your expert against theirs, see? That’s why you sent her out there to look at the guns.”

“So, the way everyone sees it, Manning’s the barometer. You either take him on or else.”

“Or else what?”

“If you can’t shake Manning’s testimony, particularly if you decline to cross-examine, it’s all over. It means the case is hopeless and the next order of business is, you ask for a recess to confer with Vaulding over a possible plea-bargain.”