Steven James - The Knight

No one knew he was here.

He drove to a nearby alley, called Denver’s dispatch department, and left an anonymous tip reporting the location of Sebastian Taylor and Brigitte Marcello’s bodies. Then he tossed the prepaid cell phone into a dumpster.

And so.

Everything was in place.

Through his contacts, he knew that Sebastian Taylor had tried to bribe members of the jury in order to get Basque set free. He still didn’t know why Taylor had wanted Basque acquitted, and the governor had stayed remarkably tight-lipped throughout the night about his motives, even as things progressed toward more and more discomfort. But that didn’t matter. None of it did. The jury wouldn’t even be giving a verdict.

No, Giovanni had taken steps of his own.

He turned on the police scanner he’d brought with him to monitor the afternoon’s events.

And waited for the story to unfold.

The trial, which had been scheduled to start late last fall, had been bogged down in a legal quagmire for months-postponed five times by judicial reviews and a slew of recesses and interruptions.

However, that was good news for me because it meant I wouldn’t have to sit through an endless round of opening statements, arguments, and counterarguments. We could cut right to the chase. And after the preliminary trial rituals and an hour of questioning from Emilio, Ms. Eldridge-Gorman strode to the middle of the courtroom and paused for a moment beside the table containing the bags, photos, sketches, and other physical evidence to begin her cross-examination.

She slowly turned to face the jury. “Before we begin, I would like to remind the jury that we’ve heard from three of the country’s leading DNA analysts, and each of them has corroborated my client’s innocence. Mr. Basque is a victim of the system who has spent the last thirteen years in-”

“Objection, Your Honor!” Emilio Vandez was on his feet before Priscilla could finish her sentence. “Here we go again. Is she going to question the witness or just restate her case?”

The judge, a white-haired hawk of a man named Lawrence Crad-dock, glared first at Vandez, then at Priscilla Eldridge-Gorman. “Get on with your questions. We already know how you feel about the defendant. You’ve made it abundantly clear over the last four months.” He took a long narrow breath that seemed to suck half the air out of the courtroom. I had the sense that he was going to say more, but he held back.

She nodded. She’d probably expected the objection and had simply taken advantage of the opportunity to reiterate her claims of Basque’s innocence. Just another gimmick to manipulate the system to her client’s advantage. I hated these games of posturing and showmanship. All too often they overshadow facts and evidence and end up undermining justice.

“Dr. Bowers,” Ms. Eldridge-Gorman went on, “please state your name and position for the court.”

“Special Agent Patrick Bowers. I’m an environmental criminologist for the FBI’s National Center for the Analysis of Violent Crime. Currently, I’m based at the field office in Denver and when needed, I serve on a violent crimes task force working in conjunction with the Denver Police Department.”

“But you used to be a detective.”

“Yes. With the Milwaukee Police Department-for six years. I was the one who apprehended the defendant.”

“Yes,” she said stiffly. “You were. But we’ll get to that in a moment. Can you kindly state your qualifications?”

I’d already gone through all this with Emilio, but it’s typical for the defense to ask you to repeat your qualifications so they can try to poke holes in your testimony by diminishing or discrediting them in the eyes of the jurors.

Repeating my resume was the last thing I wanted to do, but I didn’t want anything to interfere with the prosecution’s case, so I decided to just get it over with. “I’ve been with the FBI’s violent crime division for nine years and, as I mentioned, served as a homicide detective for six. During the last fifteen years I’ve assisted with or been the lead investigator in 618 cases in seven countries and served as an expert witness in 91 criminal and civil trials. I have a bachelor’s degree in criminal justice from the University of Wisconsin-River Falls, a master’s in criminology and law studies from Marquette University, and a PhD in environmental criminology from Simon Fraser University. I’ve also worked as a consultant for the National Law Enforcement and Corrections Technology Center in Denver, Colorado, been on the board for the American Academy of Forensic Sciences, and served as a liaison between the National Geospatial-Intelligence Agency and the FBI to help integrate the military’s geospatial research with that of the law enforcement community.”

There. Done. Enough of that.

Ms. Eldridge-Gorman paced briskly toward me. The stark clacking of her confident heels ricocheted like gunshots around the room. “And isn’t it true, Dr. Bowers, that five years ago you won the President’s Exemplary Service Award for Law Enforcement Innovation and you’ve written two books on geospatial investigation, one of which won the Silver Badge Award for Excellence in True Crime?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“And, don’t be modest now, you’re one of the world’s leading experts in environmental criminology and geospatial investigation.

” I didn’t like where this was going.

“Those are my areas of expertise.”

“Your vita is quite impressive, Doctor.” I assumed she was calling me doctor every chance she got to try to make me sound like an egghead. Another tactic. More games. She savored a moment of stillness and then added, “Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” It’s never a good sign when the defense attorney starts congratulating you for your accomplishments. She flashed me a fabricated smile, and I knew she hadn’t just been fishing for information but had already moved me closer to some sort of verbal trap.

“As a geospatial investigator you study the timing, location, and progression of crimes, correct?”

“Yes.”

“And using computer models and geospatial analysis, you develop what is known as a ‘geographic profile’ to help narrow down the number of suspects or focus the investigation on one specific locality?”

“If the case warrants a geoprofile, yes. That’s correct.”

Looking past her, I saw Calvin in the back of the room. He wasn’t here to testify, only to observe, and he must have noticed something because he was scratching busily at a pad of paper.

“And you use defense satellite information to study these locations.” She consulted her notes. “A system called FALCON.”

“Yes: the Federal Aerospace Locator and Covert Operation Network. It’s the world’s most advanced geospatial digital mapping program.”

Her tone shifted from complimentary to condescending. “It’s only fair to mention, however, that your approach is somewhat controversial, isn’t it, Dr. Bowers?”

“Objection!” Vandez shouted. “Dr. Bowers’s investigation techniques are not on trial here, Mr. Basque is.”

“Her question is relevant,” Judge Craddock responded harshly. “A technique can be controversial but still effective and well-established.” He eyed her. “But Ms. Eldridge-Gorman will make certain that she doesn’t insult or badger the witness.”

“Of course, Your Honor.” She thought for a moment. “Let me rephrase the question. Your investigative strategies are considered by some to be unconventional…?”

“Investigations should be more concerned with discovering the truth,” I said, “than with following convention.”

“And you don’t look for motive?”