time and the right setting.
Chapter TWENTY-THREE
'You know the drill. Keep your head up, keep moving and let me do the talking,' Matthew told Abbie when Barry Frame stopped his car in front of the Multnomah County Courthouse on Monday morning. A torrential rain cascaded off the car as Matthew opened the back door on the driver's side. Huge drops bounced off of the hood and windshield. Matthew held up a large black umbrella to shield Abbie from the downpour. Tracy grabbed the huge leather sample case with the trial files, smiled quickly and shyly at Barry, then ran around the car to help screen Abbie from the crowd that blocked the courthouse entrance. She was soaking wet by the time they fought their way through the reporters and into the elevator.
The court guards recognized the defense team and waved them around the metal detector that stood between the courtroom door and the long line of spectators. Matthew led the way through the low gate that separated the spectators from the court. He set his briefcase next to the counsel table and shook the water off the umbrella. When he turned around, Abbie was staring at Charlie Deems, who was lounging on a bench behind Chuck Geddes inside the bar of the court. Deems looked surprisingly handsome in a blue pinstripe suit, freshly pressed white shirt and wine-red tie that Geddes had purchased for his court appearance. His shoes were polished and his hair had been cut.
'Howdy, Mrs. Prosecutor,' Deems said, flashing his toothy grin. 'You learnin' what it feels like to be in the frying pan?'
Before Abbie could respond, Matthew stepped in front of her.
He stared down at Deems. Deems stopped grinning. Reynolds held him with his eyes a moment more. Then he spoke in a voice so low that only Charlie Deems heard him.
'You are a hollow man, Mr. Deems. There is no goodness in you. If you tell lies about Mrs. Griffen in this courtroom, not even a dark angel will protect you.'
Charlie Deems turned pale. Reynolds turned his back to Deems. Deems leaped to his feet.
'Hey,' Deems shouted, 'look at me, you freak.'
Reynolds sat down and opened his briefcase. Deems took a step toward Matthew, his face tight with rage.
'What did you just say?' Geddes demanded of Reynolds as he and Christenson restrained Deems. Matthew ignored Geddes and calmly arranged his notes while the prosecutor tried to calm his star witness.
'Mr. Deems,' Chuck Geddes asked, 'are you acquainted with the defendant?'
'In a manner of speaking.'
'Please explain how you two first met.'
'She prosecuted me for murder.'
'Had you ever met the defendant before she prosecuted you?'
'No, sir.'
'What was the result of your case?'
'I was convicted and sentenced to death.'
'Where did you spend the next two years?'
'On death row at the Oregon State Penitentiary.'
'Why aren't you still on death row?'
'The Oregon Supreme Court threw out my case.'
'It reversed your conviction?'
'Right.'
'And the Multnomah County district attorney's office elected not to retry you?'
'Yes.'
'Shortly after your release from prison, did the defendant contact you?'
Geddes asked.
'Yes, sir. She sure did.'
'Did that surprise you?'
Deems laughed and shook his head in wonder. 'I would have been less surprised if it was the President.' The jury laughed.
'Why were you surprised?' Geddes asked.
'When a woman spends a year of her life trying to get you executed, you start to think she might not like you.'
Deems smiled at the jury and a few jurors smiled back.
'Tell the jury about the conversation.'
'Okay. As I recollect, she asked me how it felt to be off death row. I said it felt just fine. Then she asked how I was fixed for money. I asked her why she wanted to know. That's when she said she had a business proposition for me.'
'What did you think she had in mind?'
'I knew she didn't want me to mow her lawn.'
The jurors and spectators laughed again. Tracy could see them warming to Charlie Deems and it worried her. She glanced at Reynolds, but he seemed completely unperturbed by Deems's testimony. Tracy marveled at the way he kept his cool.
'Did you ask the defendant what she wanted?' Geddes continued.
'I did, but she said she didn't want to discuss it over the phone.'
'Did you agree to meet the defendant?'
'Yes, sir.'
'Why?'
'Curiosity. And, of course, money. I was dead broke when I got off the row and she implied there was a lot of money to be made.'
'Where did you meet?'
'She wanted me to come to a cabin on the coast. She gave me directions.'
'Do you remember the date?'
'I believe it was Friday, August twelfth.'
Abbie leaned toward Reynolds. She was upset and Tracy heard her whisper, 'These are all lies. I never called him and we never met at the cabin.'
'Don't worry,' Tracy heard Reynolds say. 'Let him hang himself.'
'What happened when you arrived at the cabin?' Geddes asked.
'Mrs. Griffen was waiting for me. There were some chairs on the porch, but she wanted to sit inside, so no one would see us.
'At first she just made small talk. How was I getting by, did I have any jobs lined up? She seemed real nervous, so I just went along with her, even though it didn't make any sense.'
'What do you mean?'
'I knew damn well she wasn't concerned about my welfare.
Hell, the woman tried to get me lethally injected. But I figured she'd get to it soon enough.'
'And did she?'
'Yes, sir. After we'd been talking a while, Mrs. Griffen told me she was real unhappy with her husband and wanted a divorce.
But there was a problem. She was very rich. Justice Griffen's divorce lawyer was asking for a lot of money and she was afraid the court would give it to him. I asked her what that had to do with me. That's when she led me out back of the cabin and showed me the dynamite.'
'Where was this dynamite?'
'In a toolshed behind the house.'
'Describe the shed and its contents.'
'It's been a while and I only looked in a minute, but it seems like the shed was made out of weathered gray timber. The dynamite was in a box on the floor. I know there were some gardening tools in the shed, but I can't remember what kind.'
'What did Mrs. Griffen say to you when she showed you the dynamite?'
