Identical

Cass, but Georgia told me he came right to her door to read her out for making that commercial.”

“So he’s not on vacation?”

“Apparently not.”

Eventually, Tim asked how she was doing in her personal life, and she answered with a bitter little smile.

“I spent most of last night researching how to get an order of protection.”

He groaned.

“It’ll be a long time before I go down this road again, Tim. I can’t stand the disappointment.” She smiled ruefully and asked him, “What does Shakespeare have to say about that?”

He didn’t answer but started rummaging in the inner and outer pockets of his sport coat. Finally, he found what he was looking for folded in fourths in his wallet and held it out.

“Are you kidding?” she asked.

“Read it. That’s from Comedy of Errors.”

It was another scrap of ruled paper with a quotation written out in block letters, about being a drop of water in the ocean, looking for another drop.

“Now what does this mean?” she asked, after she’d read it over several times. When she handed the scrap back, Tim studied it again.

“I’m not so sure,” said Tim. “Except everybody finds all this confusing at times. And disappointing. But there’s an ocean out there. You shouldn’t stop. Not at your age. If Maria had died when I was fifty, I’d have thought, ‘I’m too young to be alone.’”

“But not now? You know what they say, Tim. A man your age who can still drive can get the former Miss Universe.” He laughed about that, even though it was a tender spot. He couldn’t see much at night any more and tried to avoid driving after dark. Pretty soon, his sight wouldn’t be adequate for daylight, either. That meant he’d have to go to Seattle. One of his daughters or the other begged him at least once a week to make the move. But he wasn’t ready for that. Not yet. He wasn’t ready to leave his house, and his things, and the life he’d had with Maria.

“Not now. No appetite for it. I have my folks to love. Daughters and the grandkids, and the ones I still hold in my heart, Maria and Kate. They’re all precious to me, each of them, they taught me who I am. But at this age, you’re just holding on to that, enjoying it. But fifty? I’d say, ‘I can do this again, learn more, change more, love more.’ I really would.”

She looked up at him from her desk, still not sold. When he reached the door, he turned back.

“You can’t tell anybody that stuff about Dickerman. That’s simply on the QT.”

“They call it the DL these days, Tim,” she said, smiling. “And that’s too goofy to repeat to anybody. Did you ever talk to Dickerman after he analyzed Paul’s prints?”

“Tried, but I haven’t caught up with him.” Mo had been on the West Coast lecturing at several police academies, and then, believe it or not, in Hollywood, where he was a consultant for a TV show. Now that forensic science was hot stuff on television, you could barely hit the clicker without seeing Mo poking his heavy black- framed glasses back up on his nose on one true-crime show or another.

“Circle back when you can,” Evon said. “Just so we can cross that one off the list.”

He wished her a good weekend, which was meant in jest. She’d be here both days doing compliance stuff for the YourHouse deal, which would finally close on Monday.

20

Win or Lose-February 28, 2008

The final proceedings in Gianis v. Kronon had drawn a herd of spectators and the well of the courtroom was also crowded. Horgan had been accompanied by two associates, and Hal’s big law firm had sent three lawyers to sit by Mel. There was an assistant attorney general, an Indian woman who headed the appellate division, along with two troopers from the state police, one of whom was carrying a steel box, which presumably contained some of the blood. Two deputy PAs had come in from Greenwood County, and Sandy Stern had shown up, too, to represent Cass. The only person not present who might have been expected was Paul Gianis, who, as he had last week, was skipping the session, in accord with his position that the lawsuit was over. His absence also prevented him from being forced to give a DNA specimen on the spot, if the judge ruled he was required to do that.

The spectators’ pews were almost completely full. Evon sat with Tim in the front row, along with reporters and sketch artists. When the case was called, all the lawyers gathered in front of the bench, looking a little like an a capella group ready to perform. Each gave his or her name. Sandy Stern said he was making “a special appearance.”

“It’s always special when you’re here, Mr. Stern,” said Judge Lands, who seemed positively lighthearted knowing that he was about to escape this bramblebush of a case. “Any problem with Mr. Stern’s appearance, Mr. Tooley? He’s telling us that he’s going to speak for Mr. Cass Gianis, but won’t accept your subpoena if I rule against him.”

Mel argued halfheartedly that Stern was trying to have it both ways, which was exactly what the law allowed, and the judge overruled him.

“OK, let’s find out what we’re fighting over,” said the judge. “Ms. Desai, tell us if you would, please, what evidence the state police have in their possession.”

It was mostly blood-the spatters from the window, the blood specimens that had been taken from the members of the Kronon family at the time, and Cass Gianis’s blood, which had been obtained from the Kindle County Police Force fortuitously, because Cass had done a draw for a drug test in preparation for entering the academy. The state cops had retained plaster castings of the shoe-prints in the flower bed, and the tire prints collected down the hill from the house, and glass shards from the broken French door, which had been maintained in order to compare the refractive index of any traces of glass recovered from the clothes or other effects of an eventual suspect. Finally, the state police also had sealed envelopes containing evidence collected from the person of Dita Kronon: fingernail clippings that the techs had taken from Dita after her death, and six different hairs that had been gathered off her body, as well as several fibers, all of which proved to have been from her clothes. Even in 1982, when crime-scene forensics was in the middle ages compared to now, the lab had been able to say that there wasn’t a concentration of foreign skin cells under Dita’s fingernails, which tended to show she hadn’t fought off her assailant, and thus presumably knew him. As for the hairs, at the time of the guilty plea, two were said to resemble Cass’s, but DNA testing over the last twenty-five years had shown that the supposed science of hair comparison was no more valid than detecting character from the bumps on somebody’s skull, which had passed as courtroom evidence in the nineteenth century.

The Greenwood County PAs spoke up next. They said they’d produced everything already, except they’d finally found Cass Gianis’s ten-card, which they’d sent to Dr. Dickerman on Friday in compliance with Judge Lands’s prior orders. The need to account to the judge for the missing prints, with reporters present, had clearly inspired a more thorough search than the clerk’s office and the sheriff had bothered with previously.

“All right,” said Judge Lands, “I’m going to hear from the attorneys. Who would like to address the present motion?” The two prosecutors’ offices both said they had no position. Tooley, the proponent of the motion, was allowed to argue first. He was brief. It was all chronology, Mel said. The subpoenas were validly served. Their enforcement had been stayed pending the ruling on the DNA motion. The motion was allowed and thus production of the evidence was called for at once. Whether the case was over or not, Hal was entitled to get what he’d subpoenaed.

“That’s preposterous,” said Horgan when it was his turn to talk. “The case is over with the motion for nonsuit, which the court must allow. The force of the subpoenas ends with the dismissal.” Ray mentioned several cases that said that, and then talked about Paul, who he said was being harassed by Hal. Stern added similar thoughts, and said that after twenty-five years in prison Cass was entitled to be left alone. As usual, Judge Lands looked thoughtfully at all of the lawyers as they addressed him, even though he undoubtedly would have known