Филипп Марголин - The Perfect Alibi

“We have a situation,” Judge Wright replied. “Mr. Kellerman wants to put on a rebuttal witness.”

“What witness?” Robin asked. “He’s rested.”

“A witness my investigator located last night,” Kellerman said.

“What’s he going to say?” Robin asked.

“Willis Goins will testify that he was in jail with the defendant. During a recreation period, Mr. Henderson confided that he had made up his claim of self-defense and had bribed his buddies to back him up.”

“I assume Mr. Goins is a solid citizen who is testifying out of the goodness of his heart,” Robin said, barely able to keep her anger in check.

“I haven’t made him any promises,” Kellerman said.

“Just out of curiosity, what’s this paragon of virtue charged with?”

“Burglary and possession of heroin.”

“I see. Can I assume that no one else heard this conversation?”

“It was just the two of them.”

Robin turned to the judge. “The legal term for this is ‘bullshit.’ The Oregon discovery rules were passed to prevent this kind of trial by ambush. They’re very clear. Mr. Goins wasn’t on Mr. Kellerman’s witness list, he’s rested, and I move for an order barring Goins from testifying.”

Kellerman spread his hands and tried to look angelic. “I would have notified counsel, but I didn’t learn about the witness until after court recessed, and I didn’t finish debriefing him until after ten last night.”

“I gotta tell you, Rex, I’m leaning toward granting Robin’s motion. This is awfully late in the game to spring this on the defense.”

Kellerman handed a copy of a case to Robin and the judge. “I’m within my rights to put on a witness if I had no knowledge of the witness when the defense rested. Rocky Stiller, my investigator, got a call from the jail at five thirty Wednesday night and went right over to interview Goins. I’d never heard of him until Rocky called me at home late last night.”

Judge Wright leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Robin waited, her heart beating fast.

Wright opened his eyes. “I’m going to send the jury home. We’ll reconvene tomorrow morning with this issue briefed. That’s all.”

Kellerman walked out and Robin followed.

“This is a chickenshit move, Rex.”

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset. Aren’t we trying to discover the truth here?”

“Go fuck yourself.”

Kellerman grinned. “See you tomorrow.”

Robin’s hands curled into fists, and Jeff put a restraining hand on her arm.

“He’s not worth it.”

“I don’t know, Jeff. It might be a fair trade if I were disbarred for breaking Kellerman’s nose.”

“Yeah, well, wait until tomorrow. I have an idea. I’ll let you know if it pans out.”

Robin finished briefing the discovery issue at four thirty, then headed for McGill’s to blow off steam. Julie Tapanoe, a young MMA fighter with a four-and-two record, was working the heavy bag when Robin walked in. Julie waved Robin over and asked her if she wanted to spar. Robin was still fuming when they started, and she dropped Tapanoe with a vicious kick to the head a few seconds into the sparring session. Barry McGill was watching, and he walked over when Robin landed another brutal shot soon after Tapanoe got up.

“Time!” he shouted.

Robin spun toward him.

“What’s going on, Lockwood?”

“We’re sparring,” Robin snapped.

“Julie is, but you’re not. It looks like you’re trying to take her head off.”

Robin started to argue. Then she dropped her hands to her sides and looked contrite. “I’m sorry, Julie. I had a rough day in court. There’s this prick of a DA who’s trying to sandbag me by calling a jailhouse snitch named Goins. I’m furious with the DA, but I shouldn’t be taking it out on you.”

“No, you shouldn’t,” McGill said. “Now, get your shit together.”

Robin restrained herself during the rest of the workout. As she was walking to the locker room to shower and change, McGill intercepted her.

“The snitch, is his name Willis Goins?” McGill asked.

Robin looked surprised. “Yeah, why?”

“Meet me at the courthouse tomorrow morning at eight.”

Robin was exhausted from her workout and still depressed and angry because of Kellerman’s slimy trick. She didn’t feel like eating out, so she stopped at a supermarket and bought a salad for dinner. Robin ate her salad out of its plastic container without really tasting it while she watched the news on TV. She had just finished eating when her phone rang.

“I struck pay dirt,” Jeff said excitedly.

“Tell me.”

Jeff explained what he’d discovered at the jail, and Robin had a big smile on her face when she hung up.

When Robin arrived at the Multnomah County Courthouse the next morning, Barry McGill was waiting for her with a heavyset woman in a threadbare coat. Robin judged the woman to be in her early fifties, but she looked much older and had obviously seen hard times.

“Robin Lockwood, Mary Goins,” McGill said.

Robin hid her surprise. “Are you related to Willis Goins?”

“I’m that asshole’s wife,” she answered.

“I’ll leave you two to get acquainted,” McGill said, walking off before Robin could thank him.

“How do you know Barry?” Robin asked.

“Church,” Goins answered tersely.

“And what can you tell me about your husband?”

“Plenty.”

The spectator section of the courtroom was packed for the hearing on Robin’s motion to bar Willis Goins from testifying. Judge Wright took the bench and told Rex Kellerman to call his witness.

“Please tell the Court your name,” Kellerman said when a heavyset, jowly man with bushy eyebrows and close-cropped salt-and-pepper hair took the stand.

“Rocky Stiller.”

“Are you an investigator with the Multnomah County District Attorney’s Office?”

“I am.”

“Have you had any contact with a man named Willis Goins?”

“I have.”

“Please tell Judge Wright about that.”

Stiller turned to the judge. “I was in my office around five thirty on Wednesday evening when I received a call from the Justice Center jail. The caller was Mr. Goins. He said he had information that would help the prosecution of Everett Henderson, so I went to the jail and talked to him.”

“What was the gist of what Mr. Goins told you?” Kellerman said.

“Mr. Goins said he’d had a conversation with the defendant during a recreation period, and Mr. Henderson told him that he was going to say he killed Greg Schaefer in self-defense, but he really hadn’t. Goins said that the defendant told him that he was making up a story so he could win his case and had bribed his friends to back him up.”

Everett Henderson leaned over and whispered in Robin’s ear. “That’s bullshit. We did talk, but it was about sports.”

Robin laid a hand on Henderson’s massive forearm. “Don’t worry, Everett. I’ve got this covered.”

“What did you do after you spoke to Mr. Goins?” Kellerman continued.

“I called you and told you what Mr. Goins said.”

“What did I do after we spoke?”

“You came to the jail around nine o’clock and interviewed Mr. Goins.”

“Were you in the room with me during the interview?”

“I was.”

“What time did we finish speaking to Mr. Goins?”

“It was late, around ten, ten thirty.”

“No further questions, Your Honor,” the prosecutor said.

“Miss Lockwood?” the judge said.

“Thank you, Your Honor. Mr. Stiller, who is Terry Powell?”