Parnell Hall - The Wrong Gun

“Sounds like they’ve written the whole scenario.”

“They sure have. The next thing that happens is, Vaulding turns you down flat because he’s holding every ace in the deck. He’s got your expert, he’s got your client and he’s got you. Vaulding laughs in your face, goes back into court and puts Veronica Dreisson on the stand. At which point I’m diving for the nearest hurricane cellar.”

Steve Winslow took a breath, then exhaled noisily. “Well,” he said, “thanks for calling.”

Judge Hendrick was experiencing a severe case of deja vu. He had just held up and displayed yet another set of newspaper headlines, and discussed the serving of yet another subpoena on yet another surprise witness. Now, with the jury in place, he turned to the witness stand to see-who else? — ballistics expert, Philip Manning.

Judge Hendrick raised his eyebrows, cocked his head, said dryly, “Well, well, Mr. Manning.”

That remark broke the tension in the courtroom, and was greeted with a burst of laughter. It was brief, and for good reason. After the events of the day before, the expectation was high that this was the day the prosecution was going for the kill.

“Mr. Manning,” Judge Hendrick said. “Once again I must remind you that you are still under oath. When we left off yesterday, Mr. Vaulding had just completed his direct examination. Mr. Winslow. Your witness.”

Steve Winslow stood up. He looked at the witness, paused a moment, then looked up at the judge. “I have no questions, Your Honor.”

That announcement produced a rumble in the courtroom, particularly among members of the press. This was confirming their expectations. As a result, anticipation was high.

“Very well,” Judge Hendrick said. He turned to the witness. “Mr. Manning, this is a bit of an event. You are excused, sir.”

Manning smiled. “Thank you, Your Honor.”

Judge Hendrick turned to Vaulding. “Call your next witness.”

Steve Winslow was still on his feet. “Before he does, Your Honor,” Steve said, “I would like to ask for a brief recess.”

This created another rumble in the courtroom, which Judge Hendrick stifled with his gavel.

Judge Hendrick looked down at Steve Winslow and frowned. “Mr. Winslow,” he said. “I adjourned court yesterday to allow you to decide if you wished to cross-examine the witness. You elected not to do so. You must have known that when you came into court this morning. Therefore, it seems to me you have had adequate opportunity to confer with your client if you wished to do so.”

“Granted, Your Honor,” Steve said. “But I do not need to confer with my client.”

“Then why do you want a recess?”

“I would like a recess, Your Honor,” Steve said, “in order to confer with Mr. Vaulding.”

That opened the floodgates. Before the recess was even declared, the courtroom was abuzz with activity as reporters raced for the phones.

District Attorney Robert Vaulding’s smile was ice-cold. “I appreciate your position,” he said. “And I hope you appreciate mine. At the present time, I see no reason not to let this case go to the jury.”

“Perhaps I can change your mind,” Steve said.

“Very unlikely,” Vaulding said. “The way things stand right now, the only plea I’d consider accepting would be guilty to the present charge.”

“Who’s talking plea?” Steve said.

“I thought you were.”

“Well, think again. At the moment, I’m merely exploring possibilities.”

“You may be exploring them,” Vaulding said, “but I can tell you they are not possibilities.”

“All right, look, Vaulding,” Steve said. “Let’s back up and start over. Just for the time being, do me a big favor by pretending you actually believe I came here to talk rather than plead my client out.”

“I fail to see the point,” Vaulding said.

“You’ll never see it if you don’t get beyond your current position. Now then, stop denying your inclination to listen to a plea-bargain, and it may dawn on you you’re not hearing one.”

“What am I hearing?”

“You subpoenaed my expert, Veronica Dreisson.”

“That I did.”

“When we go back into court, do you intend to put her on the stand?”

“I most certainly do.”

“What do you expect her to testify to?”

“I see no reason to disclose that in advance.”

“You’ll have to, if I charge you with abuse of process. You’ll have to state what you intend to prove.”

“Yes, but I don’t think you’re going to do that.”

“Why not?”

“As much as you might love to do that, as much as you might feel you’d have a chance of embarrassing me, maybe even of making the charge stick, I’m gambling right now you wouldn’t be that keen on giving me the opportunity of making a speech.”

“So, you thought of that,” Steve said.

Vaulding shrugged. “Hey, give me a break. Considering the case, my opening argument was sketchy at best. We’ve had half a hundred twists in the evidence since then. None of which benefit your client. You think I wouldn’t love to stand up and summarize that evidence under the guise of stating what I intend to prove? It’s just you and me talking here, Winslow, but you think I wouldn’t take that shot if I got it? The jury won’t hear me, but the press sure will. And just between you and me, there are a lot more voters read the paper than sit on that jury.”

“Gee, that never occurred to me,” Steve said.

“I’ll bet,” Vaulding said. “You wanna know my intention? My intention is to go straight back into court and call Miss Veronica Dreisson to the stand.”

“Now, there’s another thing,” Steve said, “that I promised my secretary I’d take up with you.”

Vaulding frowned. “What?”

“The word Miss. These days it’s Ms. But that can wait. Right now I’d like to stop you from making a big mistake.”

“Thanks for your concern.”

“Listen,” Steve said. “Remember when you first called me into your office? You told me about your talk with Dirkson. And you said you didn’t necessarily buy his line.”

“This is true, and I don’t. But the situation is a little different here. Your client’s guilty and that’s the bottom line. Your client’s guilty six ways from Sunday. He bought the murder gun, for Christ’s sakes.”

“That remains to be proven.”

Vaulding waved it away. “Oh, sure, sure. By the time you get him on the witness stand, I’m sure you’ll have thought up some great explanation. But it’s no go. You know and I know he bought it. You know and I know he’s guilty. Now I don’t care if there’s some technicality, some legal loophole, some circuitous route by which you think you could get around all that and get your client off. If you can, bully for you, but I’ll take my shot. He’s guilty and I’m not giving ground. I got enough to nail him, so that’s what I’m gonna do.”

“Can we get back to your phone call with Dirkson?”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“You say you don’t buy his line, but it’s different this time because my client’s guilty. Now, assuming there ever was a phone call from Dirkson-assuming that wasn’t just a ploy to keep me in your office while you served the search warrant and grabbed the file-”

Vaulding’s eyes flicked momentarily, but he maintained his superior smile.

“Assuming you actually spoke to Dirkson,” Steve said. “He may have told you I’m tricky, I’m fast, I pull unorthodox shit in court, you gotta watch out for me, I’m dramatic, I’ll grandstand, I’ll steal the press-that’s just for starters and I’m sure Dirkson could do a better job of it.