'Gary, Sergeant Downes played a trick on you. He took advantage of you. He said you have supernatural powers, but you don't.'
Gary's expression was blank for a moment. Then his brow furrowed.
'How did I see the murder if I don't have powers?'
'There are only two explanations I can think of, Gary. Either you murdered Sandra Whiley ..
'Oh no, Mr. Hale. I couldn't do that.'
or you made up what you said.'
'No. I didn't make it up. I seen it.'
'Sergeant Downes told you to imagine what you saw in your head, didn't he?'
'Yeah.
'That's all it was, Gary. Your imagination.
'But it seemed so real.'
'Do me a favor. Close your eyes.'
Gary obeyed Peter's request.
'Now this room. Do you have it?'
Gary nodded.
'What time of year is it?'
'Summer.'
'In your mind, imagine it's winter.' Peter waited a few seconds. 'Can you see snow on the window? Is it cold?'
'Yeah.
'Now, imagine Santa Claus is in this room with us.
Do you see him? Can you see the icicles hanging from his beard? Can you see the twinkle in his eye?'
Gary smiled.
'Gary, have you ever seen Santa in this jail?'
'No.'
'But you're seeing him in the jail now.'
'That ain't .. .'
Gary stopped. His eyes opened slowly. The smile faded to a look of puzzlement.
'Do you see what Sergeant Downes did to you? Do you understand it now?'
'I ... I know I seen something. I know I seen two people in the park when I passed by.'
'Can you swear you saw Sandra Whiley?'
Gary shook his head. He looked dejected. Peter's heart went out to him.
'This is our job, then. To find out what you really saw and what you made up. It's going to be a hard job, but we're going to work together and we're going to do it. Will you work with me, Gary? Will you help me?'
'Yes I will, Mr. Hale. I'll try real hard.'
'Good, Gary. That's a start.'
it was almost five o'clock when Peter left the jail. Working with Gary was exhausting. He was so open to suggestion that Peter had to watch every word, and he could never be certain if Gary really understood him or was nodding'to be polite. Representing Gary Harmon was going to be very frustrating and very time consuming.
As he walked up the stairs to Geary's office, Peter checked his watch. He was going to Steve's house after dinner to discuss strategy. There were all sorts of technical defenses, like diminished capacity, they might employ with a guilty client with Gary's intelligence. After today's session with Gary, Peter was wondering if they shouldn't dispense with them and go with a straight not guilty on the grounds that Gary did not commit the crime.
The autopsy report described the carnage to Sandra Whiley in graphic detail.
The person who inflicted those wounds was in a rage. Gary had been in a rage when he attacked Karen Nix, but Gary's rage was a spontaneous response to Nix's insult. The hatchet screamed premeditation. Who walks around with a hatchet? No, the killer carried the hatchet with him to use on the victim and that meant the killer planned his moves. Peter had a hard time picturing Gar Harmon planning breakfast . y 'Mr. Geary wants to speak to you,' Clara said as soon as Peter opened the office door.
'He's here?' Peter asked nervously.
'Nope,' Clara answered without looking up from her typing. 'He's at the Bunkhouse Motel in Cayuse County. Said to have you call the minute you walked in.' Clara stopped typing and looked at Peter. 'Those were his exact words. 'The minute he walks in the door.'' 'Do you know why he wants to talk to me?'
'That's none of my business, Mr. Hale. I'm just a secretary. But he did seem a mite annoyed.'
Peter wondered if Geary knew he was on the case already. He had hoped for more time to cement his position as Gary's attorney before having to confront his boss.
'Mr. Geary,' Peter said as soon as he was put through by the motel clerk, 'Clara said you wanted to talk to me.'
'Yes. Yes I do. I was sitting in judge Gilroy's chambers after court and he jokingly offered me condolences on getting stuck with the Harmon case. I told him I didn't know what he was talking about, because our office doesn't handle death penalty cases. With all the work in the office, we would never be able to commit the time we would have to commit in order to do a competent job. Not to mention that no one in my office is qualified to handle a death case, which, I'm sure you know, is a case that requires a specialist.
'The judge said he could be mistaken, but judge Kuffel had phoned him during a break in our trial and he thought Kuffel said that my young associate had appeared at the arraignment for Mr. Harmon. That isn't true, is it, Peter?'
'Well, uh, yes it is. I mean, the judge is right. But you don't have to worry. This isn't a court appointment. The Harnions are going to pay us one hundred thousand dollars and expenses.'
Peter held his breath as he waited for Geary to absorb the amount of the fee. Peter assumed that one hundred thousand dollars would allay any qualms his boss might have. There was silence on the line for a moment. When Geary spoke again, he sounded as if he was fighting to keep himself under control.
'Peter, I want you to call Jesse Harmon and tell him you made a mistake when you accepted his son's case without consulting me. Then, you march down to judge Kuffel's office and resign as quickly as you can. First thing in the morning is fine, but tonight would be better, if you can catch him in. You might want to call as soon as I hang up.'
'But, Mr. Geary 'No buts, Peter. You and this office are off the Harmon case as of now. Do you understand me?'
'Well, no, I don't understand. How much do we make on one of your crummy court appointments?
What, a few hundred bucks? I just brought in a one-hundred-thousand-dollar fee and you're acting like I did something wrong.'
'You did do something wrong, Peter,' Geary said in a tone that had Peter picturing swelling blood vessels and tightly clenched teeth. 'First, you took this case without consulting me, your boss.
'Second, our firm has a contract to represent indigent defendants in three counties. A contract is a binding promise between two or more parties to undertake particular tasks. In order to honor my part of the contract I need to have you available to represent the indigent accused, no matter how crummy they may be. You will not be available if you are in court on one case for two to four months.
'Third, and most important, this is not some shoplifting case. If you fuck up, Gary Harmon will have lethal chemicals injected into his veins. And you will fuck up, Peter, because you are a fuck-up. Did you forget that your father exiled you to this intellectual Devil's Island because of your gross incompetence? Are you so shallow that you want to compound your felony by risking Gary Harmon's life for money?'
'I resent the implications that I took this case for the money,' Peter said indignantly.
'I don't give a shit what you resent,' Geary shouted.
'You either march down to the courthouse and resign the minute I hang up or clear out of your office.'
The line went dead. Peter's hand was shaking. He hung up and slumped in his chair. What was he going to do? If he didn't resign from Gary's case, his last chance to get back in his father's good graces would be gone. But if he did resign, a golden opportunity to make a name for himself on his own would disappear. A chance like this might never come his way again.
Peter had rationalized his banishment to this dust bowl as a temporary inconvenience. He always believed
