Randy Singer - The Justice Game

Unless Matt Corey had preserved something. But why would he do that?

The prospect of a lie-detector test popped into Jason’s mind and caused his pulse to pick up speed. As a lawyer, he knew he couldn’t be required to take a polygraph. But what if somebody raised a question about who was driving and suggested a lie detector to put the issue to rest? What reason could Jason give for refusing?

Did Luthor really want Jason to win the Crawford case? If so, why had he threatened blackmail? If you want somebody to win, you call them in the full light of day using your real name.

Jason had looked up the resume of former Atlanta chief of police Edward Poole. The man’s credentials were impressive. And Jason could use an expert witness to testify about the black market for guns, someone to explain that criminals like Jamison can obtain guns regardless of whether stores engage in illegal straw sales. But did Jason dare use someone suggested by Luthor?

What was Luthor’s real agenda?

As the darkness of the cool spring night gave way to the first hint of sunrise, Jason began focusing on the most important question of all.

Whom could he trust?

Certainly not Rafael Johansen. In fact, it occurred to Jason that both the Case McAllister memo leak and the e-mail from Luthor had occurred not long after Rafael joined the team.

The more he thought about Rafael and the amount of dirt Rafael always managed to dig up on the jurors for the Justice Inc. trials, the more Jason became suspicious of his own investigator. He decided to limit Rafael’s access to the files. The man could conduct his juror investigations at arm’s length-Jason didn’t need him around the office. He thought about firing him the next day but knew he needed Rafael’s skills to properly select the jury in the Crawford case.

Besides, Jason believed in the principle of keeping your friends close and your enemies closer. He wouldn’t fire Rafael until a week or two before trial, until Rafael had completed his investigative profiles on each of the jurors.

What about the others? Could Jason confide in Matt Corey? Andrew Lassiter? What about Case McAllister? Or Bella? What did he really know about her background? For that matter, could Jason even trust his own father?

Maybe he was just dog tired. Maybe it was the gut-wrenching prospect of his past finally catching up with him. Maybe he was just being paranoid.

But right now, Jason Noble didn’t know anybody he could trust. He would play it the way he had always played it-alone. He would buy some time by meeting with Poole and listing him as an expert. Jason could always withdraw that designation later if something came up.

But he had a sickening feeling he had not heard the last from Luthor. Figuring out a strategy to win this case could well become the least of his worries.

Before heading to the bathroom for a shower, Jason he checked the Kryptonite blog. He had a feeling he would be doing this the first thing every morning and the last thing before going to bed at night for a while. Just like he would open every e-mail addressed to him with a nagging sense of dread and uncertainty.

Kelly Starling spent the three months prior to trial in what she called “the zone”-an adrenaline-laced focus that allowed her to work fourteen-hour days for weeks on end. She was billing nearly thirty-five hours a week for her paying clients and spending another forty hours on the Crawford case. She reduced her morning swims to four times a week, ate meals at her desk or in her car, and could barely find time to go to the dry cleaner. E-mails piled up in her inbox, and phone messages from her dwindling list of friends went unanswered.

Kelly’s life had been pretty much reduced to keeping the plates spinning for her other cases while focusing on the single most important case of her legal career.

Judge Shaver’s confirmation hearings remained stalled. He checked in with Kelly occasionally, ostensibly calling for an update on her high-profile case, encouraging her like a proud dad. But the phone calls always contained a nebulous question or two- “ Any new developments? Have you heard anything from our mutual friend? Any settlement negotiations, or are you still planning to go to trial?”

Each time, Kelly assured him there were no new developments. She was beginning to think she might never hear from Luthor again-that he (or she) just wanted to ensure that the case would go to trial.

Luthor certainly wasn’t much of a pen pal. And without more frequent contacts, Kelly had given up trying to figure out who it was. How could she draw out information if the mysterious Luthor never bothered to contact her?

For three months, she focused on getting ready for trial. Blake Crawford was counting on her. She couldn’t let speculation about Luthor distract her from the task at hand.

Even Luthor seemed to understand this. For three months, Luthor was silent.

June 29

The package arrived on Monday morning, one week before trial. The printed message inside was short and cryptic: Glad you haven’t settled. Thought you might need some help with Ed Poole. Maybe you could turn these over to his wife’s divorce attorney when you’re done. Luthor

Among other things, the package contained bank statements for the last few months from what looked like an offshore account in Poole’s name. The account balance showed nearly $300,000 at the beginning of June. There were sporadic deposits into the account and a $10,000 wire payment each month from the account to a bank in the United States. The recipient account was listed on the statement.

There was also a bill for a cell phone registered to Poole. Luthor had highlighted several phone calls and text messages to a number that Poole had called at least once a day, sometimes talking for twenty or thirty minutes. The phone bill was from the previous fall.

Kelly had deposed Poole a few weeks after Jason named him as an expert. Poole came across as folksy and patronizing, a former chief of police trying to educate a naive young D.C. attorney on the harsh realities of law enforcement. Criminals could get guns anytime and anywhere they wanted, according to Poole. Dealers like Peninsula Arms didn’t help, but if Kelly thought that closing down one dealership would have prevented Jamison from getting a firearm, then she was living in a dream world. Poole had seen underhanded dealers come and go in the Atlanta market for years. It didn’t make one bit of difference in the gun trade.

Poole even cited a few facts to back up his opinions. He was particularly fond of a Justice Department study based on interviews with nearly 18,000 state and federal inmates. More than 80 percent had obtained their guns through friends or family members or had bought them on the street. Only 9 percent of the guns used by criminals had been purchased at retail outlets illegally, either through straw purchases or otherwise. In addition, a relatively small number of guns used in crimes were what the media referred to as “semi-automatic assault weapons.” That number was about 8 percent.

And so it went, the personable former chief of police spewing out statistics and homespun Southern advice while Jason Noble could hardly suppress a smile.

Kelly knew she would have her hands full with Poole at trial. For that reason, the documents from Luthor intrigued her. But she was also skeptical. Evidence from Poole’s divorce case probably wouldn’t be admissible to impeach him as a witness.

Still, it was at least worth a few phone calls.

Kelly’s first call was to the number highlighted on the phone bill. A female voice answered, and Kelly asked for Angela, Poole’s estranged wife. The woman on the other line hesitated before she told Kelly it was the wrong number. “Who is this?” Kelly asked. “A wrong number,” the woman repeated.