he gazed over his client’s shoulder at Porter’s first written words:
I, John D. Porter, have done at last that which I thought I would never do.
Sowerby didn’t want to read anymore.
12:02 p.m. PST
The recess was not nearly long enough, and Porter still had a vast amount of questions. Sowerby was in a bad mood and didn’t seem to care about Porter at all anymore. Porter thought that even Sowerby wanted him to fry in the legal pan. But the truth came in the form of Clusser’s script. Questions filled the page, and Sowerby no doubt realized he would do little for this case; it was all in the care of the FBI now, though Sowerby would never understand how or why.
Porter watched the skinny attorney stand and call Agent Stan Clusser to testify. Mr. Comer had already been briefed and had no problem with a member of the FBI stepping forth.
Porter wondered what the Prosecuting Attorney intended to do after his verbal explosion. Well, Porter had said his peace. He felt good about it and would stand behind his words to the end, while at the same time he wondered when that end would come.
The next act of the play had begun. A few preliminary questions: Tell the court who you are, what are your credentials etc.
Sowerby did his best to look like he’d invented the questions himself. “Agent Clusser, in your opinion as a field operative of the Federal Bureau of Investigations, has a crime been committed?”
Sitting tall in the leather chair, Clusser gave a powerful, “Yes.”
“Will you tell us what has happened?”
“I will. On the twenty-second of March, an object of archaeological significance, the property of Guatemala, illegally entered the United States.”
“You are referring to KM-2?” said the attorney.
Clusser’s brow lowered as he nodded, and Porter suspected the attorney wasn’t sticking to his lines. “That artifact was then passed to two graduate students attending Stratford University.”
“Who,” said Sowerby.
“John D. Porter and Erma Alred.”
“Do you suspect Porter and Alred knew they had an illegal object?” said Sowerby.
Porter bit the inside of his cheek as he saw Clusser tighten up. Sowerby didn’t want to play the game. Porter trusted his missionary companion, but he was quickly losing faith in his attorney who had helped him little so far. For a second, Porter even wondered if the lawyer had already been bought off by those who’d tried to kill him. But he couldn’t continue thinking that way, because the next question might be, who else in the courtroom had been swayed by the secret combination pushing for Porter’s destruction?
The FBI agent’s eyes darkened. Porter knew his companion wasn’t the best at hiding his feelings. That’s what made him a good missionary. Porter wondered how he could possibly be a good field operative for the government if he couldn’t lie well.
“Agent Clusser?” said the attorney.
“I do not know to what realization the students came concerning the legality of their work.”
“But you have sat in court since the beginning, haven’t you? Listening to the testimonies?” said the attorney.
“I have.”
“Did you hear the statements made by Ms. Alred and the accused that Stratford University assigned them both to the project?” said Sowerby.
Clusser nodded. “The research was directed by a man known to some of the faculty and the students as one Dr. Peter Arnott.”
Sowerby tilted his head. “Are you giving credibility to Dr. Kinnard’s testimony that there was a person named Peter Arnott? Dr. Masterson and Dr. Goldstien deny there even was such a man.”
“Of course,” said Clusser. “Peter Arnott does not exist.”
“Excuse me?” said Sowerby.
“If it will please the court,” said Agent Clusser, “I will point out that the FBI has a classified file on the man called Peter Arnott. We did not until recently. However, the man has been identified with one Gerard Jasper, a pseudonym for someone currently under investigation.”
Sowerby stopped breathing. Porter eyed his attorney closely, trying to discern his thoughts, his true motives, and whether or not he would continue with the outline in his hand.
Clusser didn’t wait for the Defense Attorney to speak. He turned to the judge. “Your honor, I have reason to believe this entire crime has been orchestrated by outsiders who may be involved in a number of illegal activities presently being studied by the FBI. I am not, however, able to reveal any more at this time in a public court. Nevertheless, I have brought an edited file on this ‘Peter Arnott’ which may evidence enough to show that the defendant has been caught in the crossfire of a highly organized criminal operation.
“A connection with Arnott may also implicate Stratford University or some of its colleagues to such a degree that I would assume Dr. Masterson and Dr. Goldstien might wish to…amend their testimonies based on clearer memories revived by photos of Mr. Arnott. And of course, Stratford will then have to reconsider the possibility that two of its students may have been…mistreated. I believe you will find there is not enough evidence to convict the defendant, but that crimes have been committed, and the perpetrators are still out there.”
“I…have no further questions,” said Sowerby, moving to his seat while glancing at the Prosecuting Attorney.
Judge Panofsky lifted his eyes to the Prosecution. “Mr. Comer, would you like to question the witness?”
Comer spoke with his assistant for a few seconds before standing. “Your honor, the State wishes to review the new information before deciding whether or not we have a case with which to continue.”
2:17 p.m. PST
Porter met Alred outside the courthouse, his eyes looking all about for the old man he knew only as Joseph Smith. He saw a newspaper salesman, bent with age and malnutrition, but dressed in a flashy orange vest so that both pedestrians and cars would spot him from far enough away to get their change ready. A woman with too much makeup and jewelry waited as her orange-brown chow sniffed a skinny fern held up by a wooden stick in a hole cut in the sidewalk. A quiet menagerie of folk passed the courthouse, people who had little else to do with their retired days.
“I got back as soon as I could,” she said, wiping her nose with her finger.
“It’s over, Alred,” said Porter with a sigh.
“Well, you’re on the outside, which is good. What did I miss?” The wind pushed at the back of her auburn hair.
Porter looked up at the long line of double doors on the granite building. Crows bellowed overhead. He thought he heard a child yelling somewhere, but hadn’t seen one. “Stratford made an official statement.”
“What.” Alred licked her lips.
“They admitted the responsibility for Ulman’s codex falling into our possession. They are willing to hear our dissertation arguments and give us our degrees based upon work accomplished.”
Alred nodded at the ground. “What about Dr. Kinnard? Will he be charged with-”
“No, the FBI is conducting a manhunt for Peter Arnott. All the blame has fallen on him.” He smiled a sigh, but knew things really hadn’t ended. There were too many loose strings. Would they still come after him? Would they kill him simply for the trouble he had become? Or would they run, hide for years before taking their revenge…just to be safe? They would get their doctoral credentials, but would they live free enough to use them?
“Porter…did we do the right thing?” she looked up at him with passion in her green eyes.
Porter beamed down at her. “I’ll tell you everything at Bruno’s. Meet me at five?”
She nodded, then reached into her pocket and handed him a small slip of paper as Clusser came up behind him.
As Alred marched down the concrete steps, the FBI agent sagged loudly, “You’re a lucky man, Porter!”
“Why didn’t you say anything about them?” Porter said with a bite in his voice.
“The court knows enough,” said Clusser, relaxed. “They’ve learned the FBI is searching and has reason to
