'Tell the jury what the inside of the cabin looked like. You should have no trouble if you were inside it for forty-five minutes to an hour.'
Several of the jurors leaned forward.
'Uh, there's a kitchen and a living room.'
'When you spoke with Mrs. Griffen, where did you sit?'
'In the living room.'
'Where in the living room?'
'Uh, on the couch.'
'What color is the couch?'
Deems paused for a moment. Then he shook his head. 'I don't really remember. Look, I told you, the woman wanted me to murder her husband.
I wasn't paying attention to the furniture.'
'How about the living-room rug, Mr. Deems?' Reynolds asked, ignoring Deems's discomfort.
'I don't remember. Brown. Maybe, it was brown.'
'Can you tell the jury the color of anything in the Griffen cabin?
Deems was upset. He shifted in his seat.
'Do you want to know why you can't recall the colors, Mr. Deems?' Deems just stared at Reynolds. 'It's because you were in the Griffen cabin but not when you claim you were there. You entered the cabin at night, after sunset, when you tried to kill Mrs. Griffen. In the absence of light, the human eye cannot distinguish colors.'
Deems flushed. He shook his head and glared at Reynolds.
'That's not it. I wasn't paying attention to colors. I was nervous. I mean, this woman prosecuted me for a murder I didn't commit. Then she turns around and asks me to kill her husband.
Colors were the last thing on my mind.'
Reynolds picked up a stack of photographs and crossed the courtroom to the witness box. Then he smiled at Deems, but there was no warmth in it.
'By the way,' Matthew said, handing Deems one of the pictures, 'there is no rug in the living room. It's hardwood.'
'What are those photographs?' Geddes asked as he leaped to his feet.
'They are pictures of the cabin taken on August twelfth, the day Mr.
Deems claims he visited Mrs. Griffen. The pictures were mentioned in discovery.'
'Objection,' Geddes said desperately. 'There's no foundation for them.'
'All of these photographs were taken by Mrs. Griffen. The camera she used date-stamped the negatives. I'll lay the foundation later,'
Reynolds said.
'With that assurance, I'll permit you to use them,' Judge Baldwin ruled.
Deems examined the picture quickly. While the attorneys argued, he looked over at Abigail Griffen. She was smiling a hard, cold smile at him. Deems flushed with rage. He wanted Abbie to suffer, but she looked triumphant.
'Well?' Matthew asked. 'Is there a rug?'
'No,' Deems answered grudgingly. 'At least not in these pictures.'
'Do you have other photographs showing a rug in the Griffen cabin, Mr.
Deems?' Reynolds snapped.
Suddenly, it appeared to Tracy that Charlie Deems had thrown a switch and cut off all of his emotions. The anger disappeared to be replaced by a deadly calm. The witness relaxed visibly and leaned back in his chair. Then he grinned at Matthew and answered, 'No, sir. These are the only photos I know about.'
Tracy was suddenly frightened for Matthew and glad that he was not alone with Charlie Deems.
'Thank you, Mr. Deems. Now, you've explained that Mrs. Griffen wanted you to use dynamite that was in a shed behind the house?'
'Right,' Deems replied evenly.
'You remember the dynamite because she showed it to you?'
'Definitely.'
Matthew Reynolds handed another picture to Deems. 'I remind you that the negative of this picture of the shed is date-stamped. Where is the dynamite?'
In the photograph, the shed door was ajar enough to show the interior.
Deems saw gardening tools, a volleyball net and an empty space with a volleyball resting dead center. What he did not see was a box of dynamite.
'I don't know,' Deems said with a marked lack of interest.
'Maybe she moved it.'
Reynolds left the pictures and returned to the defense table.
He picked up a manila envelope and walked back to Deems.
'I believe you said that you were tempted by Mrs. Griffen's offer of fifty thousand dollars because you could use the money?'
'Yes,'
'I assume you were broke when you left prison?'
'You assume right.'
'Have you gotten a job yet?'
'No.'
'Any savings?'
'No.'
'Did someone hire you to blow up Justice Griffen and frame Mrs. Griffen for the murder?'
Deems laughed. 'That's nonsense.'
'Then how do you explain this?' Reynolds said as he withdrew a sheaf of papers from the envelope and handed them to Charlie Deems. Deems completely lost his cool and his mouth gaped open. He looked at the bank records, then at Reynolds.
'What the hell is this?'
'A bank account at Washington Mutual in your name with a hundred thousand dollars in it.'
'I don't know anything about this,' Deems shouted.
'I see. Then I have no further questions.'
'Any redirect, Mr. Geddes?' Judge Baldwin asked.
'May I have a moment, Your Honor?'
Baldwin nodded and Geddes continued the intense conversation he had been having with Neil Christenson since Matthew Reynolds announced the contents of the manila envelope. After a moment, Geddes stood. He had learned how to look composed in the worst situations from years of courtroom combat and he appeared to be unconcerned about the destruction of his key witness.
'Nothing further,' Geddes said. 'And the state rests.'
'I imagine you have some motions, Mr. Reynolds?' Judge Baldwin said.
'Yes, sir.'
'How many witnesses do you have?' the judge asked Matthew.
'Twenty-seven.'
'Can you put any of them on this afternoon?'
'I'd prefer to start tomorrow.'
'Why don't we take our morning recess now. I'll send the jury home. We can take up your motions after the recess, then take witnesses in the ' morning.
The jurors filed out. As soon as the judge left the bench, Charlie Deems left the witness box. Chuck Geddes and Nell Christenson hustled Deems out of the courtroom and up the stairs to the sixth floor.
'Where did you get that money?' Geddes demanded as soon as they were in his office.
'That's not my account,' Deems said.
