see all possibilities than a jury is.”
“Tell it to the judge.”
He nods. “Now tell me what I don’t know.”
“There’s a cottage blackmail industry that’s been thriving; Loney was one of the people behind it. They find things out about people, or they do them very illegal favors. Either way they’ve got them from that point on, and they extract favors from them. Judge Holland was one of those people; Alex Bauer was another.”
“And they told Holland how to rule in that case?”
“I’m sure they did. Alex Bauer told me so.” I feel as if I can break the confidentiality of what Bauer told me; being dead means he doesn’t require protection.
“Give me a name besides Loney,” Mulcahy says.
“Brett Fowler. He’s a political consultant in D.C. He either killed Bauer or had it done.”
Mulcahy doesn’t take any notes; he either knows Fowler or has confidence in his own memory. “What else?”
I don’t want to tell him about Judge Holland’s son. I don’t see how I could be risking national security in the process. It doesn’t matter what they were blackmailing Holland with; the important point is that they were doing it.
“Steven Lockman was an assayer employed by Milgram. He disappeared around the time of the fire, and was never heard from again.”
“You think he was in the fire?”
“I do. I’m speculating here, but I think he found something important, maybe on Milgram land, and the wrong people found out about it before his management did. They killed him, and used Bauer to get the company. But it took a long time.”
“The people we’re dealing with are patient,” he says. “We think in weeks; they think in decades.”
“Lockman’s last trip before he died was to Texas; he flew into Dallas. He went there twice, and Milgram has land in east Texas waiting to be drilled on.”
“It can’t be about oil,” he says.
“What about something dangerous, like uranium?”
He shakes his head. “No. Uranium can be had; it’s enriching it that’s the tough part.”
He doesn’t wait for me to respond. “Thanks for this,” he says. “Set up the meeting with De Luca.”
I get a little anxious while waiting for a verdict.
At least that’s how I would describe it. Laurie sees it a little differently; she says I get “totally psychotic” and “unbearable to be with.”
I am not generally a superstitious person, but during a verdict-wait superstitions run my life. Everything I’ve ever done during this period on a case I’ve ultimately won becomes something I have to do each subsequent time. It’s exhausting.
I’m always pessimistic while waiting for a jury; but this time I’m even more sure we’re going to lose; I believe that if I were on the panel I’d vote to convict.
It’s the ultimate defense attorney’s nightmare. A client whom he likes and knows to be innocent gets convicted and spends year after year in jail. There is no question that a life sentence for Noah would mean one of my own as well.
Usually I have nothing to do other than wait, but this time is different. If we’re going to lose this trial, then we need to develop evidence that can exonerate Noah, or at least earn him a new trial. Focusing on the investigation at least takes my mind off the verdict. A little bit, anyway.
I spend some time on a computer trying to figure out what could possibly be on that land that could be of consequence to a foreign power looking to develop WMDs.
One of the things I examine is the possibility that certain plants or bacteria could be growing there, perhaps a rare growth that could be used to make biological or chemical weapons. So I spend hours reading scientific stuff online, only to discover I have no idea what I’m reading, or what I’m talking about.
“Let’s look at where we are,” I say to Laurie. “We know from Mulcahy that there is the potential for a country to be helped in its WMD program from Entech buying Milgram. It can’t be intellectual property; there’s no secret formula in the Milgram safe, with Entech now having the combination.”
Laurie nods. “So it has to be something substantive, something tangible.”
“Right. Plus, I’m positive that Lockman’s disappearance ties into this. And Lockman’s profession was to analyze what materials are in the ground. I don’t know what that material is that is so important, but it doesn’t matter for our purposes. We just know it’s there, and that Entech now owns it.”
“This is the endgame for the bad guys,” Laurie says. “All the other blackmails were small potatoes. Killing off Bauer, and especially Loney, means that they want to eliminate everyone who knows anything. The payoff from this is big enough that they are willing to dismantle the operation.”
“What about the people physically taking the stuff out of the ground?” I ask, knowing the answer as I ask the question.
“I wouldn’t want to be holding their life insurance policies.”
“Ricci behind this?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “I could be wrong, but I don’t think so. I think he provided the muscle, and maybe some financing, but that’s it.”
“Why didn’t he get revenge for Loney?” I ask.
“Maybe he did. Or maybe Petrone got him to back off. That’s still to be learned.”
“So where are we?”
She thinks for a minute. “I’m not sure, but I know where we should be. East Texas.”
Laurie, Marcus, Hike, and Sam are on a flight to Dallas, when I get the call.
FBI lawyers have petitioned De Luca to grant status to address the court
We had no real strategy for sending the “east Texas delegation,” even Laurie admitted that. We just felt that was where the real action was, so that’s where they should be. I would have gone along, but I needed to be here to deal with the court.
They’re going to drive around the land owned by Milgram, which is now owned by Entech. It’s an enormous area to cover, and the chances of them actually hitting on something are minute. They’ll ask people about unusual activity, but chances are what is going on does not seem unusual to anyone.
The plan is to split into pairs to cover more area, and I can just imagine the maneuvering going on to avoid being paired with Hike. I hope Marcus doesn’t draw the straw, because Sam or Laurie would just throw Hike out of the car when he got annoying. Marcus would kill him.
Dylan, Mulcahy, and I assemble in De Luca’s chambers at the appointed hour. De Luca has invited lead counsel only, which is just as well, since my “staff” is driving around Texas looking for bad guys. Mulcahy brings a bureau attorney with him.
“To what do I owe this interference in the workings of this court?” is how De Luca opens the session. I would have to say that as opening lines go, that one is not a particularly good sign.
“We have information which leads us to strongly believe that a conviction of Noah Galloway would represent a miscarriage of justice.”
“Very well,” De Luca says. “Let’s hear it.”
Mulcahy turns it over to the FBI attorney, who proceeds to give a dry recitation of facts, head down and reading every word. Worse yet, it’s basically just a rehash of the case we’ve already presented. Since De Luca turned down our request to reopen the trial, there is nothing here to make him reconsider, other than possibly the fact that the FBI is doing the talking, instead of me.
De Luca seems as unimpressed as I am. “That’s it?” he asks.
“Not quite,” Mulcahy says. “There are two more things. The fire that killed Bauer in his car was started with an almost identical mixture of chemicals as that of the house fire.” This surprises me, and I assume it was left out of the media reports for investigative purposes.
“Second, and far more important, is the fact that there are serious national security implications to this
