getting the work done. We were actually supposed to do it the Friday
before, but I had to call and cancel on him. A couple of my guys were
out, so we were behind on the cars in the shop that week. So I told
him we'd do it on Sunday. I do that sometimes to keep us from getting
backed up.'
'So, if I understand you correctly, Mr. Derringer arranged to have his
car overhauled several days before you actually completed it. In other
words, he didn't call you that Sunday morning to get the work done in a
rush. Is that right?'
'Right,' he said.
'And, in fact, he had originally planned to have the work done two days
earlier, on that Friday, correct?'
'Correct,' he said.
There went my theory that Derringer had gotten the work done to cover
up physical evidence.
Lesh must have felt sorry for me, because he saved me from having to
cross-examine Culver empty-handed at the end of an already humiliating
day. Even though we were only halfway through the afternoon session,
he called it quits. Apologizing to counsel, the jurors, and the
witness, he explained he had an afternoon obligation and that we'd have
to resume the questioning of Mr. Culver the following morning.
The problem, of course, was that nothing was going to change overnight.
As hard as I'd tried over the years, I still hadn't found a way to
alter reality. Someday I was going to figure it out. Unfortunately, I
wasn't able to do so before returning to my office.
O'Donnell had left a note on my chair. Don't forget. Get me before
you talk to Duncan. TOD.
When the two of us arrived at Duncan's office, I could tell that
O'Donnell must have called ahead, because Duncan didn't seem surprised
to see us. I wondered if the two of them had already agreed on how
this would end.
Duncan Griffith is one of those men who manages to look young even
though his hair is full-on white. He somehow maintains a year-round
tan in Portland, Oregon, and I'd wager a bet that the teeth in what
seemed like a permanent smile are capped. He was as pleasant on this
day as he always appeared to be.
'Ah, my two favorite deputies. Come on in, you two. Make yourselves
comfortable.' Griffith gestured to a setting of inviting leather
furniture.
The law offices depicted on television are for the most part
outlandishly unrealistic. Instead of the mahogany shelves and fully
stocked bars enjoyed by fictional prosecutors, I, for example, work off
a yellow metal desk with a cork board hutch, and when I'm lucky I can
scrounge a Diet Coke off one of the secretaries who has a mini-fridge.
Duncan Griffith's office was an exception, however. The walls were
lined top to bottom with volumes of the state and federal case
reporters, and dark leather sofas welcomed whatever guests were
fortunate enough to gain entrance into the inner fortress.
I'd only been invited here twice before, once for my job interview and
once during my second week with the office. I had quickly learned that
calling a sandbagging defense attorney a scum sandwich on shit toast
wasn't within the range of what Duncan Griffith defined as acceptable
deputy DA behavior.
He was being much nicer to me now than during that last visit. After
Tim and I were seated, Griffith leaned back against his desk and
crossed his arms in front of him. 'So, Sammie,' he said, 'the
Oregonian tells me that the Zimmerman matter has come up in this rape
case of yours. Where's that stand right now?'
I gave him a quick overview and told him I thought that Judge Lesh was
receptive to a motion to exclude any evidence relating to Zimmerman's
murder.
Before Tim could open his mouth, Duncan said, 'You're a good lawyer and
an aggressive prosecutor, Sam, and I appreciate you going after this
guy a hundred and ten percent. But we all need to keep our eye on the
ball here. The greater good. As an office, we need to get to the
bottom of this Zimmerman thing and make sure we've got the right
people. We're talking about the death penalty here. A man's life is
at stake.'
'I realize that, sir, and I understand that our office is involved in
the investigation into the anonymous Oregonian letter. But that case
doesn't have anything to do with mine. The defense is trying to take
advantage of the publicity surrounding the Zimmerman case to confuse
the jury.'
Duncan still hadn't stopped smiling. 'I understand that, Sam, but
remember what I said. It's about the greater good. If you file that
motion, the front page of the newspaper's going to say that you're
trying to squelch a man's attempt to get to the truth. And I won't
have you dragging us into a cover-up.'
O'Donnell had clearly primed the pump. Griffith was regurgitating the
spiel that O'Donnell had given me earlier in my office.
