David Rosenfelt - Dog Tags

“By a curious coincidence, Milo, the dog that Billy worked with on the force, was also finding himself suddenly unwelcome, because he had reached the ripe old age of seven. So Billy took custody of Milo, with few options and the need to provide for both of them. So what did he do?

“He became a thief.”

I can see the surprise in the jurors’ eyes when I say this, but it was an easy call for me. Billy’s new “profession” was going to come out in this trial no matter what, so it should come from me. This way I can present it in the best possible light, while not looking like I am trying to hide it. If handled right and we get lucky, it could even play as a positive for us.

“Yes, Billy Zimmerman became a thief; in fact, Milo did as well. They used the same technique that Milo learned in disarming dangerous criminals to steal items that they could then sell for money. In the course of six months they did this three times, not enriching themselves in the process, but earning enough to keep them fed and sheltered.

“And then one night he saw Mr. Erskine, a man in charge of security the day that Billy was injured. He saw him acting suspiciously, so he watched and waited to see what was going on. And when the opportunity presented itself, he and Milo tried to steal something that Mr. Erskine had that seemed to have possible value.

“But the evidence will show that Mr. Erskine had his own agenda that night; he was meeting someone to make what seems to have been a sinister exchange. And the person he was meeting proved to be his killer.

“But here’s what you need to know: In that horrible moment, Billy Zimmerman once again became a protector. He rushed to protect Mr. Erskine, but he was too late. The evidence will show that because he made that effort, and only because he made that effort, he sits here before you today, accused of the murder he tried to prevent.

“Those are the facts, and I join Mr. Morrison in asking you to please follow them.”

CHAPTER 49

MY OPENING STATEMENT ISN’T OVER UNTIL FOUR O’CLOCK IN THE AFTERNOON. The good news is that Judge Catchings then decides to put off Eli’s first witness until tomorrow. The bad news is that there is likely to be a tomorrow.

The presentation of the prosecution’s case is not surprisingly always the toughest part of the trial for the defense. Cases aren’t even brought unless there is deemed to be probable cause, which means that by definition the prosecution has substantial evidence of the defendant’s guilt.

So I can be sure that witness after witness will be called, creating a barrage effect that has the danger of overwhelming our defense before we have our turn at bat.

All we have during this time is cross-examination, where I will try to pick apart their witnesses and find inconsistencies in their testimony. I will try to create doubt, not necessarily reasonable doubt, but enough for the jury not to make up their minds too quickly.

Ordinarily, this time includes an eagerness on my part to get it over with so that I can go on offense and present our case. That impatience doesn’t exist here, because at this point we don’t have a case.

During a trial I am in work-intensive mode, which is my least favorite mode to be in. I spend all my spare time reading and rereading the case file, paying particular attention to the witnesses I will be dealing with the next day. There is simply no substitute for preparation, and much as I hate it, I really do pride myself on not being outprepared by anyone I face.

My nightly ritual during this case is slightly different, since I have to include my ridiculous hour-long trust-building sessions with Milo. I swear, Milo and Tara have started not finishing their dinners because they want to save room for the better-tasting treats they will receive during these sessions.

We do it in the den, and once they’re finished with dinner they start hanging around in the hallway outside the den, impatiently waiting to get started. Tara’s got an especially good deal. She already trusts me and has no idea where the envelope is, so she has no significant role to play. All she has to do is lie there and inhale the treats.

Laurie hasn’t been joining me for these sessions; she’s busy working the phones trying to gather information that we can use. She’s been working ridiculously long hours, since she also has her teaching responsibilities at the college. But she’s thriving at it, and the aftereffects of her injury are becoming harder and harder to notice.

Actually, I feel like I’m making pretty good progress with Milo. Using the techniques Billy and Juliet have taught me, I can get him to take objects out of my hand and go hide them, yet lead me to the hiding place on command. Of course, I have no idea if this will result in him leading me to an envelope he took long ago without me around. For all I know, he doesn’t even remember where the envelope is.

“Milo, old buddy, pretty soon it’s going to be your chance to shine.”

He looks at me quizzically, tilting his head slightly. The head tilt is something that Tara mastered long ago; it simultaneously makes her look cute and interested in what I’m saying. Milo isn’t as good at it as she is, but he’s learning.

“Don’t give me that head-tilt crap; you know what I’m talking about.”

“I do hate to interrupt this meeting of the minds,” Laurie says, having entered the room without me realizing it.

“He’s trying to pull the old head tilt on me,” I say. “I’m calling him on it.”

“I’m impressed,” she says. “You want to call me when you’re finished? Because I’ve got some big news.”

“Good big news?”

She nods, so I end the trust session early to give her my full attention.

“Sam found a plane reservation made six weeks ago by Donovan Chambers,” she says. “It was Nassau in the Bahamas, to San Juan, to Cancún. He made it in the evening for a flight that was to leave at seven o’clock the next morning.”

I recognize the name instantly; Donovan Chambers is one of the soldiers discharged from the army as a result of the explosion in Iraq.

“Sounds like he was in a hurry. Has Sam found any traces of him in Cancún?”

She shakes her head. “He hasn’t even looked; Chambers never got on the plane in the first place.”

“Do we know why?” I ask.

“No, and neither do the authorities in Nassau. A friend of mine in the Miami PD put me in touch with someone down there. Chambers hasn’t been seen since that day; all his clothes and possessions were there, including seventy-five grand in a hidden safe.”

The same thing happened with Tyler Lawson in Vegas; there seems to be a run on ex-soldiers disappearing and leaving large sums of money behind.

“Have they got any leads?”

“None. And I doubt that they care a lot, him being a foreigner and all. If they had a body, that would be a different story. But they don’t.”

“Can we depose them?” I ask. “I need something tangible to give me any shot at introducing this at trial.”

“We can definitely depose them,” she says. “I can go down there and do it myself.”

If there’s a worse idea than Laurie going off to Nassau, I’m not aware of it. “It should be a lawyer,” I say.

“What about Hike?”

“I really don’t want to be responsible for depressing an entire country. I think we have international treaties prohibiting stuff like that.”

“Well, you can’t go, and it’s not like you have a whole staff of lawyers,” she points out.

“Too bad it’s not Bangladesh; I could have Kevin do it.”

I pick up the phone and call Hike, who never answers before the fifth ring. It’s like he’s hoping the caller will hang up and he won’t have to be bothered.