that made Geddes stop.
The two men conferred. Geddes's back was to Tracy, so she could not see his face, but she could see Christenson gesturing animatedly and Geddes nodding vigorously. Then Christenson stopped talking and Geddes turned and stared at Reynolds and Abbie Griffen. There was a cruel smile on his face, an expression that was hard to reconcile with the stunning blow that had been dealt to his case moments ago.
BarryFrame lived in the Pearl District, an area of northwest Portland once filled with decaying warehouses that had been rejuvenated by an infusion of art galleries and an influx of young professionals and artists who lived in the renovated lofts. Some of the bare brick walls in Barry's loft were decorated with Matthew Reynolds's nature photography. A poster from the Mount Hood Jazz Festival showing a piano floating on a pristine lake with Mount Hood in the background hung above a low white sofa.
Across from the sofa, a metal bookcase stood next to a twenty-seven-inch TV set and a state-of-the-art stereo system. Barry was listening to a CD of Stan Getz blowing a mellow sax when Tracy knocked on his door. She had called from the courthouse as soon as court ended. Barry had been in the field interviewing witnesses during the day and was anxious to be brought up to date on what had happened in the courtroom.
As soon as the door opened, Tracy threw her arms around Barry's neck and kissed him. Then she broke free and grabbed Barry by the shoulders.
'Matthew Reynolds is unreal. I mean, I'd heard he was a grade A genius, but I didn't really believe it until I saw him this afternoon.'
'Slow down,' Barry said with a laugh.
'I can't. I'm on a fantastic high. You should have seen Geddes. He's such a pompous ass. God, the look on his face as soon as the jurors were out of the room. He went ballistic. It was priceless.'
'What happened?'
Tracy grinned wickedly. 'What are you willing to do to find out?'
Tracy was loaded with energy and wanted to expend it the same way they had when they missed the last half of Casablanca on Friday night.
'Jesus, I'm involved with a sex maniac. Is this the only way I can get information out of you?'
'Yup.'
'I feel like I'm being used.'
'Yup.'
'And here I thought it was my mind that attracted you.'
'Nope,' Tracy said as she started taking off her dress.
'Tell me what happened in the goddamn courtroom while I still have the strength to listen,' Barry said.
They were lying naked on Barry's king-size bed. Tracy rolled over on her side.
'I guess you've earned the information,' she said, smiling impishly.
Then she told Barry about Dr. Shirov's testimony.
'Man, I wish I'd been there,' Barry said when she was finished.
'Didn't you know about Shirov?'
'No. This was Matt's baby. He's pulled stuff like this before.
He gets in this zone only he can get to and comes up with these ideas.
If there's a better lawyer in the country, I haven't heard of him.'
'Or her,' Tracy said, nestling against Barry's chest.
'Excuse me for being politically incorrect,' Barry answered as he kissed Tracy's forehead.
'It's all over but the shouting,' she said. 'Matt destroyed Deems and Dr. Shirov has wiped out Geddes's key evidence. The jury has to have at least a reasonable doubt.'
'I never like to get overconfident, Barry said, 'but I have to agree with you. It looks like Matt has this one in the bag.'
Chapter TWENTY-FIVE
On Wednesday morning, Tracy noticed that no one was sitting at the prosecution counsel table when the defense team entered the courtroom.
The judge's bailiff hurried over to Reynolds as soon as he spotted him.
'The judge wants you in chambers with your client. Mr. Geddes and Mr.
Christenson are already there.'
'Any idea what's going on, George?' Reynolds asked.
'Not a clue.'
Brock Folmer, the judge whose chambers Judge Baldwin was using, was a Civil War buff. A bookcase with volumes about the great conflict stood next to the door to the courtroom and a table covered with miniature blue and gray soldiers reenacting the Battle of Bull Run sat against the wall under the window. Judge Baldwin seemed lost behind a huge oak desk that stood in the center of the room. In back of him was a complete set of the Oregon Court of Appeals and Supreme Court reporters and the Oregon Revised Statutes. The court reporter was sitting at Judge Baldwin's elbow.
There were three high-backed, brown leather, upholstered chairs in front of the judge's desk. One was empty and Reynolds took it. The other two were occupied by Chuck Geddes and Neil Christenson. Christenson looked nervous, but Geddes looked like he had just won the lottery.
'Good morning, Matt,' Judge Baldwin said. 'Miss Cavanaugh and Mrs.
Griffen, why don't you have a seat on that couch over by the wall, and we'll get started.'
'What's going on, Judge?' Reynolds asked.
'Let's go on the record and Mr. Geddes can tell us. He asked for this meeting this morning.'
Geddes lounged in his chair. There was a smug smile on his face. 'I want to reopen the state's case,' he said.
Judge Baldwin looked a little put out. 'That's highly unusual, Mr.
Geddes. We're well into the defense case.'
'I'm aware that my request is unusual, Your Honor, but Mr. Christenson has discovered new evidence that changes the complexion of our case.'
'And what evidence is that?' the judge asked.
'Evidence that Abigail Griffen also murdered her husband's lover, Laura Rizzatti.'
Tracy was stunned and Abbie bolted out of her seat.
'You sick bastard,' she started, but Reynolds was up, blocking the judge's view and holding out a hand to his client. 'Please, Mrs.
Griffen,' he said forcefully.
Abbie caught herself and sank down onto the couch. She was clearly shaken by the accusation. And so, to Tracy's surprise, was Matthew Reynolds.
'Let's everyone calm down so we can sort this out,' Judge Baldwin commanded. Geddes had not moved during Abbie's outburst. Reynolds made certain that Abbie was under control, then he turned back to the judge.
'I object to Mr. Geddes's motion to reopen,' Reynolds said forcefully.
'The state has rested. Mr. Geddes had months to uncover evidence of this sort, if it exists. The introduction now of evidence of another murder would be untimely. I also believe it would require a mistrial or a lengthy continuance so the defense could prepare to meet this evidence. Both actions would be highly prejudicial to the defense case, which, as the court knows, is in an excellent posture at this point.'
Reynolds paused and cast a cutting look at Geddes.
'Frankly, Your Honor, I'm a bit skeptical of the timing of this motion, coming, as it does, right after Mr. Geddes's key witness and key evidence have been discredited.'
'Mr. Reynolds's points are well taken, Mr. Geddes,' Judge Baldwin said, 'but I suppose I have to hear the evidence you want to introduce before I can make a ruling. Why don't you enlighten US.'
'Certainly, Your Honor. That's why Mr. Christenson is here.
Neil, please tell the judge what you discovered.'
Christenson shifted uncomfortably in his chair and faced the judge.
'Laura Rizzatti was Justice Griffen's clerk at the Supreme Court, Your Honor. She was murdered a little less than a month before Justice Griffen was killed. Mr. Geddes thought it was suspicious that the two murders had been
