denied doin' it, but I told him it took balls to commit murder. I built him up. Gary's such a retard, he never figured out what I was doin'. Soon, I had him bragging about how good it felt to snuff Whiley.'
'That's certainly interesting, but how do we know you're not making up this whole story? You're facing a long sentence in a federal prison, you have some very scary people mad at you. That's a lot of motivation to lie.'
Booth looked wild-eyed. He felt his only chance at safety and freedom slipping away.
'I ain't lying. This is the truth. He spilled his guts to me.
'Maybe he did, but I only have your word for that.
Unless you can give me something concrete, something that proves Harmon killed Sandra Whiley, your testimony will be useless.'
Booth put his hands to his head. He closed his eyes and shifted on his seat.
'Let me think,' he begged.
O'Shay felt disgust for Booth, but she did not let it show. If Harmon really.had confessed to Booth, Booth's testimony would be very important to her case. Now that the first flush of excitement had faded, she realized that her case was not as strong as she first imagined ' Although she would argue that Harmon's statements to Downes contained so much detail that he had to be the killer, Harmon had not really confessed to killing Whiley. And there was the problem of the blood, or lack of it. Police technicians had not found any of Whiley's blood on Harmon's clothes or in his house. And the murder weapon was still missing.
Suddenly, Booth's face lit up. 'I got it , he said. 'I got something solid. Something that will prove I'm not lying.'
Peter watched Clara Schoen leave Amos Geary's office from the coffee shop across the street. Geary had left half an hour before. Peter gave it fifteen minutes more to be certain Clara would not return before scurrying across to the law office.
Peter felt a little bit like a thief, though he had convinced himself that there was nothing wrong with clearing out his own belongings from his own office after everyone was gone. He wasn't taking anything that wasn't his and coming in when Geary wasn't there would prevent a nasty scene. Everyone was better off this way.
Peter had brought an empty liquor carton with him.
He set it on the desk and was filling it with law books and personal items when he looked up to find Amos Geary watching him from the doorway.
'He ... hello, Mr. Geary,' Peter said with an uneasy smile.
Geary shook his head slowly.
'You are some piece of work.' Geary's voice was filled more with sadness than anger. 'How are you going to defend a man's life when you don't even have the guts to leave my office in broad daylight?'
'I ... Uh, I was, uh, going to drop in tomorrow to, uh, thank you for ..
.' Peter started, but Geary cut him off with a sound that was half laugh, half bark.
'You really don't have any pride, do you? It's beyond me how a man like your father could sire someone as worthless as you.'
Peter flushed, but he was too embarrassed at being caught to reply.
'Where are you sneaking off to?' Geary asked.
'I'm not sneaking anywhere. These are my things,' Peter said, tilting the carton to show Geary the contents.
Geary kept his eyes on Peter's face and didn't look down. Peter was able to keep eye contact for only a moment before he lost his nerve.
'I'm moving to Steve Mancini's offices,' he answered. His voice quivered a little.
Geary nodded slowly. 'You and Mancini should get along just fine.'
Peter straightened up. He realized that he had packed all his things and there was no more need to stay, but Geary was blocking the doorway.
'I, uh, I really do appreciate the chance you gave me.
I learned a lot these past weeks,' Peter said, hoping that he sounded suitably grateful.
'You didn't learn a thing, Peter. You're the same sorry son of a bitch you were when you cheated that poor woman in Portland. Is it going to take the death of Gary Harmon to make you see how truly pathetic you are?'
It suddenly occurred to Peter that Geary might be angry enough to try to talk Jesse Harmon into firing him.
'What are you going to do?' he asked nervously.
Geary made no effort to hide his contempt.
'Don't worry. I won't interfere with your precious case. You've been admitted to practice law in this state' so you're entitled to try any type of case you want to' and the Constitution gives Gary Harmon the right to be represented by the counsel of his choice, no matter how sorry a son of a bitch that lawyer may be. But I will leave PART you with a thought. Gary Harmon is a living, breathing human being. If you continue with this farce and he is executed, you will be as much a murderer as the bastard who killed that poor girl in the park.'
DEATH CASE
Chapter SIXTEEN.
There were no fancy decorations in the Whitaker County Circuit Court. The county could not afford them and the enny-conscious rural constituents did not p want them. They wanted justice, fast and without frills.
So, the benches for the spectators were hard, the judge's dais was unadorned and the only dashes of color were in the flags of Oregon and the Unite& States that flanked Circuit Court judge Harry Kuffel's high-backed chair.
judge Kuffel was someone you could easily picture in a bow tie, vest and bowler hat tap-dancing across a vaudeville stage. He was five six with a dancer's slender, but compact, build. He wore his gray hair slicked down 'and his mustache was neatly trimmed. Kuffel's suits were expensive and conservative, but the judge had a ready smile and tried to keep the atmos here in his p courtroom from being overly stuffy.
'The state calls Don Bosco, Your Honor,' Becky O'Shay said.
As the psychologist walked to the front of the packed courtroom to take the oath, Judge Kuffel sneaked a look at the clock. It was four-thirty. In one half hour, he would recess for the night. Kuffel looked interested, but was secretly bored. He had decided how he would rule ... ... ... . J
on the defendant's motion to suppress Gary Harmon's statements to Dennis Downes hours ago.
'Will this be your last witness?'
'Yes, Your Honor.'
'Very well.'
Peter had been relieved when Steve Mancini volunteered to handle the pretrial motion. He knew very little about the law of confessions and was only too glad to let Mancini do the research, write the brief and examine the witnesses.
Peter barely listened while Bosco explained his academic and professional credentials and gave the court a brief outline of his duties as Director of Mental Health for the county. This testimony was strictly for the record, since Bosco was well known to the court.
Peter glanced at Gary. Poor kid. Peter had to admire him. He really tried. Mancini had told Gary to take notes when witnesses were testifying.
They had to train Gary now, so he would know how to fake it when there was a jury in the room. Peter and Steve agreed that subjecting Gary to cross-examination would lead to disaster. Since he would probably not take the stand, it was important to create the illusion that Gary was involved in his defense.
Gary had taken the note writing to heart and scribbled constantly, even though he understood little of what he heard. Peter had glanced at Gary's notes and they were gibberish. Still, he looked great writing. Very intense. Thank God or his good looks.
'Mr. Bosco,' O'Shay asked, 'were you summoned to the Whitaker police station on the evening of Sandra Whiley's murder?'
&(I was.'
'Do you remember when you arrived?'
