“Okay,” Talmadge said, opening his briefcase. “Let’s look at what they’ve got. I’ve taken the liberty of summarizing it for the purposes of our conversation so we don’t have to spend hours going over it in detail.”
He pulled out a stack of papers and thumbed through them, then pulled out a single sheet. “First, they’ve got the evidence of the crime scene. This was reported in the media as one of the bloodiest, goriest murder scenes to come down the pike in a long time, and from the photos I saw, they were right.”
“Any chance we can get those photos suppressed?” Steinberg asked.
Talmadge nodded. “A chance we’ll get at least the worst ones suppressed,” he said. “They’re clearly prejudicial. But all of them? I doubt it.”
“Then what?” Michael asked.
“The photos in and of themselves only prove there was a crime committed. They don’t prove you did it.”
Michael nodded quickly. “Okay. Good.”
“Then we’ve got the usual. The autopsy reports, the forensic evidence. The good news, to get to the bottom line, is this: They’ve got nothing that explicitly places you at the crime scene, at least not yet.”
“Not yet?” Steinberg demanded.
Talmadge returned. “The results of the DNA swabs they took won’t be in from the lab for at least another week or two.”
“And the bad news?” Michael asked.
“They’ve also got nothing that explicitly proves you weren’t there.”
A tense silence followed as Michael sat there, trying to take everything in.
“Yes,” Talmadge said after a few moments. “And then we move on. They’ve got credit card receipts, rental car and hotel receipts, restaurant receipts, all of which place you in Nashville the night of the murders. But so what? We concede that. You were doing a book signing. It was in the newspaper. But then we go on from there. The police have questioned witnesses at the hotel who say you left the hotel about ten that Friday night and didn’t return until almost two in the morning. Which places you outside the hotel during the time the murders were committed.”
“I couldn’t sleep,” Michael said. “I never can after a book signing. I went out, hit a couple of bars, had a few drinks.”
“Fair enough,” Talmadge said. “You try and remember what bars you hit and we’ll try to find people who can place you there.”
Michael nodded. “I’ll start working on it.”
“But then we come to the one thing they’ve got that might be problematic. Several days after the murder, a bum found a bunch of bloody clothes, a pair of latex gloves, couple other things in a Dumpster about three miles or so from the murder scene. The blood on the stuff was traced to the murder scene, and they’ve positively typed it to the two victims.”
Michael shrugged. “So?”
“So,” Talmadge continued, “they found the rental car you had the night you were in Nashville. They tracked it down to New Orleans, and when they examined it, they found traces of blood in the trunk. When they ran tests on the samples, they matched the blood on both the bloody garbage stuff and the murder scene.”
“But that’s impossible!” Michael said loudly. “That’s crazy. No wait, it’s not impossible, it’s bloody fucking convenient. How much trouble does it take to dab a blood sample on a piece of carpet that you already know matches the victims into a car?”
“Maybe,” Talmadge said. “It’s certainly something we can look into.”
“And how many people,” Steinberg broke in, “had rented that car in the time between when Michael had it and how long it took them to find it?”
“Yeah, how long did it take them to find it?”
Talmadge shuffled through some papers. “Just a few days shy of two months.”
“Two months,” Michael spewed. “How many people rent a car in two months? It’s crazy. They can’t tie me to it.”
“It’s weak. And we can find out how many other people had rented that car. If we can break the causal link they’re trying to establish in that fashion, then we’ve made a big dent in their case.”
“What else have they got?” Steinberg asked.
“Of substance? Not much. Some pretty wild theories.” Talmadge faced Michael and looked directly at him. “They’re going to produce a witness who says that the plots to your books are pretty similar to some other murders that have occurred around the country. I think they’re going to try and convince the jury that you’re some kind of serial killer or something like that.”
“That’s insane,” Michael said. “I’ve already explained those similarities. I’ve been researching a series of murders for years and using the material in my books.”
“In any case,” Steinberg offered, “that’s the sort of testimony that we’re never going to let them bring into court. No judge with half a brain is going to allow that kind of material in and run the risk of being overturned on appeal. We’ll get that suppressed easily.”
Talmadge nodded. “I don’t think it’s much of a threat. But the blood evidence is another matter. And, of course, the results of the DNA tests are absolutely crucial.”
“I can tell you right now, there’s nothing there for them to find,” Michael said.
“Then we’ll proceed on that premise,” Steinberg said.
“But let’s also assume, for the sake of argument, that the worst-case scenario will prevail and we’ll go to trial. What’s the next step?”
Talmadge sighed. “We have to be prepared for that, although I hope we can cut them off at that pass. But we have to start putting the team together.”
“Team?” Michael asked.
Talmadge nodded. “We’ll need to hire a jury consultant. I know the best one in the business. She’s been on
“I don’t know exactly what that means, but I’ll go along,”
Michael said wearily.
“And then we’ll need a good private investigator on scene in Nashville to go over everything the police have done and then some. I’ve worked with a guy in Nashville before, name’s Denton, who’s very good and very discreet.
He knows the cops, has connections inside the department, and is very thorough. And one other good thing: For some reason or other, he’s willing to work cheap.”
Michael smiled. “Well, so far he’s the only son of a bitch who is.”
“And then we’ll want a forensic pathologist to go over the autopsy, from one end to the other. And also a crime-scene expert. Police often, more often than you’d think, mishan-dle evidence in ways that would shock you. If we can catch them breaking the rules, then we can swat them down like a housefly. After all, police screwups are basically how O.
J. was acquitted.”
Michael moaned. “Please don’t mention his case in the same breath with mine.”
“Why not?” Steinberg asked, smiling. “He’s walking around swinging a nine iron. Nothing wrong with that.”
“And then we’ll have to go after the DNA analysis as well.
We need to have the best people we can find to challenge the results if they turn against us. Obviously, if they come out in our favor, we’ll punt on that. But I want them ready.”
“I know Barry Scheck,” Steinberg said. “I’ll call him today and get a referral.”
“Good. And we might even think about bringing in a psych guy.”
“Psych guy?” Michael asked.
“Yeah, a psychiatrist who’s an expert in this sort of crime and in profiling these sorts of murderers. If we
