'I'm not sure what you mean.'
'You know how to prepare a tunnel which takes all incoming and outgoing e-mail traffic, Web access, and even internal e-mail traffic within a firm like mine and copies it and transmits those copies to a destination e-mail address. You know how to do that, don't you?'
'No, I don't.'
'Sir, are you familiar with the federal wiretap laws?'
'Vaguely.'
'Are you aware that it's a felony to put an illegal bugging device in someone's office?'
He shrugged but was beginning to perspire slightly. 'I would assume so.'
I turned to Ralph and nodded to him. He tossed me a small device, which I caught, then I turned back to Braden. 'Sir, this is a bug that was found underneath the desk in my office. You put it there, didn't you?'
'No. I didn't.'
'I asked Ralph to bring in your laptop, sir. He is the one who discovered the tunnel through our server that was copying every e-mail sent to or from my law firm and forwarding it to an e-mail address which appears to be a random number. And he's prepared to open up your laptop right here and show us how you did it. Isn't it true, Mr. Dercks, that you are the one who put the bug in my office and sent all my e-mails, memos, even voice mails which are captured by our e-mail system, to your real boss, Tom Hackett?'
Braden looked at Hackett, which was a dead giveaway. Everyone in the courtroom saw it. He hesitated, then said to everyone's surprise. 'I would like to invoke my Fifth Amendment privileges at this point.'
I looked surprised. 'Fifth Amendment privilege? Are you saying that you're afraid that testimony that you might now give here could be used against you in court in a criminal action where you would be the defendant?'
'I really think it would be best for me not to answer any more questions. I would like to assert my Fifth Amendment privilege.'
I nodded and looked at the judge. 'Your Honor, I don't have any further questions.'
She looked at Hackett. 'Any questions, Mr. Hackett?'
He stood up, having renewed his self-confidence. 'I don't have any questions of this young man, Your Honor. I have no idea what this is about. He's asserting things that are patently untrue. I have never received anything from him regarding Mr. Nolan's trial preparation or trial strategy. If he is sending e-mails and bugging people's offices, he certainly isn't sending it to me. I don't know how this is even relevant to this case.' His voice was confident as was his demeanor, but something in his tone, something in his voice, betrayed fear.
The judge responded, 'Mr. Hackett, if you don't see the relevance, you're not tracking what's going on here. Mr. Nolan, you may recall Dr. Bradley and continue with your examination of him. We will evaluate whether there is need for a mistrial, or a deposition of Dr. Bradley after his testimony once it is concluded. As for now, we're going to keep right on going. We're going to take a five-minute break and then return with Dr. Bradley's testimony.'
35
THE JOURNALISTS SPENT the fiveminute break, which of course turned into ten, screaming into their cell phones from every imaginable point on the property of the courthouse. Braden had left the courthouse as soon as his testimony was over, and most people expected him to head directly to Madagascar or Chad or Tibet. The reporters seemed not quite sure if they bought my entire story, but I had clearly gotten close enough to cause my own associate to take the Fifth Amendment. That was something you didn't see every day. Something about Braden Randall was fishy and possibly evil, which the journalists would now begin to look into. They were torn between whether to begin that inquiry or to sit in the courtroom and listen to Wayne Bradley, who promised to be even more explosive. If I took the risk of holding back on telling the other side about critical evidence in the case, let alone the Secret Service, the FBI, and the NTSB, in the hope of forcing Braden to blow up on the witness stand, it must be really good evidence. We were about to find out.
The jury looked around the courtroom somewhat disappointed they hadn't been there for the fireworks. They could tell something had happened, but they couldn't tell what. All they knew is that I was picking up right where I had left off.
Judge Betancourt called Dr. Bradley back to the stand.
He resumed his seat, adjusted the microphone, and placed the two leather bags in front of it. Hackett immediately noticed there were two bags and not one.
I began again. 'Sir, when we left off, we were discussing your finding of the tip weight from Marine One. Do you remember that?'
'Yes, I do. It's right here.'
'Is that, which we'll have marked as the court's next exhibit in order, a tip weight from Marine One?'
'Yes, it is.'
The court clerk said, '658.'
I looked at the judge. 'I'd offer Exhibit 658 into evidence, Your Honor.'
'Any objections?' the judge asked Hackett.
'I have more objections then I have time to list, Your Honor. This is completely outrageous. He's been sitting on this evidence-'
'Overruled. Exhibit 658 will be received as evidence.'
'Now you said before our break that the tip weight had fractured. Is that right?'
'Yes. Right in half, like a doughnut had been cut in half across the hole with a large knife, leaving two semicircles.'
'Now, Dr. Bradley. Since finding that tip weight have you formed an opinion as to why that tip weight fractured?'
'Yes. Initially I thought it had fractured from metal fatigue. I thought it had been improperly manufactured.'
'And what did you do when you learned that information?'
'I came to your house and showed it to you. You said that we would simply have to tell the court whatever we find, regardless of how it impacts the case.'
Hackett shook his head and threw his pen down. 'This is self-serving hearsay. This is ridiculous.'
'Overruled. Continue.'
I said to the judge, 'Thank you, Your Honor.' Then to Bradley: 'But since then your opinion has changed?'
'Yes, it has. I noticed a very small hole on the inside portion of the broken tip weight, on the fracture surface. Barely larger than a human hair. I was puzzled. So I x-rayed the tip weight, and while the X-ray didn't show very much, it showed me a shadow on the internal portion of the tip weight. I had no idea what that was about, so I machined off the top of the tip weight over the shadow, and I found this.' He held it up so I could see it, then so the judge could see it, then so the jury could see it. But it was so small no one could tell what he was looking at.
'May I approach?' I asked the judge.
I went to the witness stand and took the tip weight from Bradley, returned to the podium, and placed the tip weight faceup on the ELMO. I zoomed the television camera down to it and turned on the screen so that everybody in the courtroom could see it. I went to maximum zoom so that the entire screen was filled with the area in the small tip weight that had been drilled out. People strained to see what they were looking at.
'Dr. Bradley, what is this?'
'It's a microchip.'
'What is it for?'
'It should be for nothing. Tip weights are supposed to be simply metal. They're there for their weight. They're there to balance the rotor blade. It would be like taking one of the little balance weights off the wheel of your car tire and finding a microchip embedded inside of it. That would be just as mysterious as this.'
'Did you pull out the drawings of these tip weights from the materials provided from WorldCopter?'
'I did.'
'And the tip-weight drawings call for an internal microchip?'
'They did not.'
'Sir, what did you do, if anything, to confirm that this tip weight came through WorldCopter?'
'I went out to WorldCopter headquarters and obtained access to the other Marine One helicopter that was there for maintenance. It hasn't been touched since the day of this accident when all the Marine One helicopters were grounded. I climbed up to the newest blade, removed the end cap, took off the tip weights, and examined them.'
'What did you find?'
'I x-rayed the four tip weights from that blade and saw the same shadow. I ground down the face of one of the tip weights and exposed the chip, the path of this wire through the angled hole, and then the fiber that runs across the diameter.'
'May I see that?' I approached and took the tip weight. I returned to the ELMO, laid the tip weight on the ELMO, zoomed in the television camera, and everybody in the room could see exactly what had happened. After I let everyone stare at it for a time, I said, 'Your Honor, I move this into evidence as next in order.'
'Any objections?'
'Yes-'
'Overruled.'
'So all the tip weights have these chips?'
'I doubt that. I suspect only the most recent blades have the chip.'
'So on the accident tip weight. Why is the microchip there?'
Bradley pushed his hair back with his hands. 'That's what I was trying to figure out. It made no sense to me at all, but I realized the chip was connected to that hole that I found. I did a chemical test on the edge of the tip weight checking for one particular chemical.'
'What chemical?'
'Well, it's PETN. Pentaerythritol tetranitrate.'
