“Like his cell phone.”
Billy thinks for a moment. “No. I would remember that. I can check the files when I’m in the office, but I’m pretty sure he didn’t have it.”
“Thanks, Billy. That’s what I needed.”
“I just got back to town yesterday. How’s the case going?”
“Getting better all the time.”
When I get off the call, Kevin is ready with the cell phone information. “Sam’s documents never showed the call on Timmerman’s cell phone, but that was explained in court. The phone company rep said that the call was made from Timmerman’s business phone, under the Timco account. I was never much interested in checking on whether the call took place, because Steven had confirmed to us that he received it.”
“What if it was Sykes’s phone?” I ask, and by now I’m almost yelling. “Everybody assumed it was Timmerman’s phone because it came up as Timco, but Sykes’s phone would show the same thing. He’s the goddamn CEO. We need to call Sam and get records from that cell phone. And I need Steven’s home phone records for the last year.”
“Okay, let’s take a step back and look at the big picture,” Laurie says. “Why would Sykes want Walter Timmerman dead?”
“To take over the business entirely?” Kevin asks. “Or maybe so that Diana Timmerman could inherit her husband’s money, and then Sykes could marry her?”
“That didn’t work out too well,” I say.
Kevin is getting into this. “It could also have to do with Timmerman’s work. Sykes is a scientist; maybe he found out about it and wanted to take it over for himself. For all he knew, Timmerman was working alone and in secret. If Timmerman were to die, Sykes might be able to walk in and take over without anyone knowing. Especially because Timmerman’s lab was in his house, and Sykes would have access through Diana.”
“So why blow up the house?” Laurie asks.
That’s a tough one, but I take a shot at it. “Maybe Sykes had already gotten what he needed, and he didn’t want anyone else to get it as well. And maybe this way he was able to get rid of Diana, who was the only witness to what he was doing.”
“Holy shit,” Laurie says, thereby exposing her delicate side. “I just had a thought; try this out. Maybe Sykes killed Timmerman for personal reasons, and then someone else blew up the house. Maybe with Timmerman dead, someone wanted to make sure no one had access to his work.”
“What are you basing that on?” I ask.
“Childs never told Marcus he killed Walter Timmerman, remember? All he told him was that he blew up the house and tried to kill Waggy. We just assumed he didn’t admit to killing Walter because Marcus didn’t ask the question, but maybe it was because it never happened.”
The three of us just look at one another for at least sixty seconds, as we all come to grips with the fact that, at the very least, we’ve come up with a very viable theory.
“Now, how are you possibly going to prove all this?” Laurie asks.
“We don’t have to prove it,” I say. “We all think this is possible, right? We just have to get the jury to think like us.”
We talk for another hour, and then Kevin heads for home. As Laurie and I are about to get into bed, I say, “You ready for a stakeout, and maybe a phone call?”
“Sure,” she says.
“Good. Go to Sykes’s office, and when he leaves, give him a call on the cell phone number we got from Sam’s records.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“Sorry, wrong number. I just need to make sure it’s his cell phone, and that he carries it with him.”
I explain what I’m talking about without taking too long, since it’s delaying my getting into bed with Laurie. But I do make the mistake of putting forth one more conversational gambit. “I know I’m not supposed to talk about this, but it’s great having you here and involved. It felt like old times tonight.”
She smiles. “I’m enjoying it. I feel like I’m back in the action.”
“You know, if multiple murder and depravity is your thing, there’s really nothing like New Jersey.”
I DON’T HAVE TO adjust our witness list to include Thomas Sykes. That’s important, and far more than a convenience. This way Sykes already understands the possibility that he will be called, and will not be surprised when he is. He will also not be unduly alerted, and will not feel he is a target. For us to have a chance, I’m going to have to take Sykes apart on the stand, and I want him unprepared for the onslaught.
I’m not a big fan of fair fights.
I call Sykes in his office before the start of court in the morning, and I am surprised and pleased that he is already there. “Mr. Sykes, I just want to alert you that you will be handed a subpoena today requiring your appearance in court tomorrow.”
“For what purpose?” he asks.
“You’ll be a witness for the defense. I had hoped to avoid calling you, but it doesn’t seem like I have a choice.”
“What do you hope to get from me?” he asks.
“I’m going to talk to you about the lifestyles of both victims, unfortunately including your relationship with Mrs. Timmerman.”
“You’re going to slime the victims?” he asks. “Is that your style? I had been told you were better than that.”
“I choose to call it defending my client,” I say. “See you tomorrow.”
I think the call went pretty well, and that Sykes will have no reason to think I have any agenda other than the one I just mentioned.
When Steven is brought into court, I consider whether to alert him to what is going on. I decide against it; it might raise false hopes, and we’re dealing with a very long shot. Besides, there are only a few minutes before Hatchet comes in, and Steven would have an hour’s worth of questions.
Kevin is not in court this morning; he is making sure that the subpoena is served, and getting some other information that we need. It’s nice for him; this way he doesn’t have to be embarrassed by the pathetic string of witnesses we have planned for today.
The first of those witnesses is Dr. John Holland, a professor of criminology at the John Jay College of Criminal Justice in Manhattan. Holland is a leading expert in blood spatter, and his work as an expert witness probably allows him to quadruple his annual salary as a college professor.
My goal with Holland is to affirmatively establish the points I made when I cross-examined the prosecution’s forensic witness. “How likely is it that the person who shot Walter Timmerman from point-blank range was splattered with blood, brain matter, and skull fragments?” I ask.
“At that range it is a certainty,” he says.
“And if he then got into his car, and transferred trace amounts of the splatter to the interior of the car, how likely is it that the transferred material would be only blood?”
“Virtually no chance,” he says, and I let him go on to explain. He likens it to making a pasta sauce, starting with marinara and adding ground meat, olive oil, Worcestershire sauce, cream, and assorted other ingredients. If you eat some, there’s no way you’re going to have only pure marinara running down your chin. With this explanation, he manages to effectively make his point while equally effectively making the jury nauseous.
Richard’s cross-examination is short, as if he doesn’t think the witness is worth spending a lot of time with. He talks about the bleeding that would take place after the initial splatter, and how blood that was virtually pure could have pooled on the ground.
On balance, the witness certainly favors us, but I’m sure that Richard has experts in reserve whom he can call in rebuttal. I’m also sure he doesn’t think he will need to, and at this point he’s right.
Just before lunch Laurie comes in and passes me a note telling me that the phone call went perfectly, and a few minutes later Kevin arrives as well, with the documents we need. The stage is basically set for tomorrow,
