Amanda was stuffing her file into her attache case when Grace Reynolds, a reporter from the Oregonian , walked up to the low fence that separated the front row of the spectator section from the counsel tables. Grace was a slender brunette in her late twenties. She'd interviewed Amanda on two occasions for feature stories and had once double-dated with Amanda when they were both going out with attorneys from the same firm.
'Hi,' Grace said. 'You certainly wowed the judge. I haven't seen Ivan the Terrible smile that much since he imposed his last death sentence.'
'Are we off the record, Grace?'
'You're not going to be Amanda 'No Comment' Jaffe with your old drinking buddy, are you?'
'Afraid so.'
'I was hoping you'd give me an exclusive on the homicidal pimp.'
Amanda winced. 'You're not going to call him that, are you?'
'We're taking it up at the editorial meeting. Of course I might argue against it if you gave me some reason to believe that I'd be committing libel. And don't try to sell me on the cockamamie story you gave the judge.'
'I must be losing my debating skills.'
'Or your mind. That was the most outrageous argument I've heard since the Twinkie Defense.'
'Didn't that win?'
'I don't remember. So, do I get my exclusive?'
'No can do, right now. But I'll promise to think of you when the time is right, if you'll answer a question for me.'
'Ask.'
'You were at the jail when Hayes was killed, right?'
'Down in Reception.' She shook her head. 'What a bummer.'
'I checked with Harvey Grant's clerk. Grant appointed Wendell Hayes to represent Jon Dupre a little before one on the day that Hayes was killed. He made the appointment in his chambers, not in open court, and the press wasn't invited. Hayes walked over to the Justice Center half an hour after he was appointed. How did you and the other reporters know that Hayes was going to be at the jail?'
'We got a tip.'
'From who?'
'Mr. Anonymous.'
'Do you know if the tip was anonymous for everyone?'
'I didn't ask.'
'Okay, thanks.'
'What's going on, Amanda?'
'I promise you'll be the first to know when I figure it out.'
'Lets get together for a beer or a movie sometime,' Grace said. 'No business.'
'Sounds good.'
Kate had watched the exchange. 'Why the question?' she asked once Grace left the courtroom.
'Only Judge Grant, Wendell Hayes, and Grant's clerk knew that the judge was going to appoint Hayes. If Hayes wanted to distract the guard at the desk so he could smuggle in the shiv, it would help to have a pack of howling journalists flashing lights in Larry McKenzie's eyes and causing their usual havoc.'
twenty- Seven
The reporters were waiting when Tim Kerrigan and Maria Lopez left the courtroom. Most of the spectators were gone, but Kerrigan noticed a young blond woman with sunglasses, dressed in jeans, a T-shirt, and a leather jacket, leaning against a marble pillar and studying him with intense concentration. A cameraman moved and blocked his view. When the cameraman moved again, she was gone.
As soon as the press conference was over, Stan Gregaros and Sean McCarthy joined the prosecutors.
'What did you think about the hearing?' Kerrigan asked the detectives.
'Slam dunk,' Gregaros answered. 'You're gonna have a ball at the trial if Jaffe sticks with her bullshit theory that Dupre acted in self-defense.'
'We've got some more evidence to use against Dupre,' McCarthy said. 'Remember Rittenhouse telling us that Travis said that 'Jon' was going to make everything okay on the night of the murder?'
Kerrigan nodded.
'I had Dupre's phone records sent over. A call was made from his house to Travis's place in Dunthorpe on the evening Travis was killed.'
'Another nail in Johnny boy's coffin,' Gregaros said.
The detectives and the prosecutors conferred for a few more minutes before Tim and Maria took the elevator to the district attorney's office.
'I've actually got some work to do in another case, Maria,' Kerrigan said. 'Why don't you do some research on the evidentiary issues we talked about and we'll touch base tomorrow.'
