“I was.”
Davis took three more photos off the evidence table. “Permission to approach the witness?”
“Granted,” said the judge.
Davis showed the pictures to Livingston, who nodded, and then walked to the witness. “Can you identify each of these photographs for the jury?”
“The first is a picture of the door where the fingerprint was found.”
“What does the little green arrow tell us?”
“It points to the exact location of the print.”
“And the second picture?”
“The second is a copy of the fingerprint taken in the police station when Mr. Barrett was arrested, and the third is the latent print found on the door of Mrs. Lockhart’s bedroom.”
“Are you absolutely positive these two prints are a match?”
“I am. Aside from the usual curves and peaks, Mr. Barrett has a scar on his finger.”
“The defendant’s mother just bowed her head. Looks like she remembers that scar,” said Michael. “Probably a childhood injury.”
“Permission to show the jury, Your Honor?”
“Granted,” said the judge.
This time, Davis didn’t have an assistant to help him, so he went to his laptop himself and in an instant, the two photographs showed up side-by-side on the screen at the front of the courtroom.
“Even I can see the scar,” Carl muttered. “Jackie, I can’t find anything on the court reporter yet. Maybe Michael should start dating her. Nod if you agree.” He watched, smiled when she slowly nodded, and turned to look at Michael’s expression.
Michael frowned. “I don’t know. Now that I’ve gotten a better look at her, maybe I’m not that interested after all. She’s kind of young.”
Carl chuckled. “Do it for the sake of the company, Michael. Maybe you can find out who she is, and where she came from. Better yet, maybe she can help us get that DNA sample we need for our client.”
“I’ll think about it...for the good of the company, that is.”
Jackie smiled in spite of herself. Michael always backed down from his threats to find someone else when Carl challenged him. Still, she often found herself looking at the court reporter. Natalie Kirkwood seemed to be very good at a job that must have taken months to perfect. Of course, the technology had progressed as quickly in the court system as it had everywhere else. Having the latest equipment depended, however, on the county’s ability to pay for it.
Davis gave the original photos of the fingerprints to the court clerk to be entered into evidence, and waited until the jury had time to get a good look at the screen. Then he took the image down and put the screen back up in the ceiling. A moment later, he was back at the lectern asking the next question. “Mr. Knoll, were you able to tell how old the latent fingerprint was?”
“As far as I know, there isn’t any reliable way to tell how old any fingerprint is. Some prints are stronger and easier to read, but that might just mean the person grabbed the object harder, not that the print is more recent.”
“I see. Mr. Knoll, is it usual for people to have scars on the tips of their fingers?”
“Sometimes. It depends on how deep the actual cut was.”
“Is it your testimony that the fingerprint taken from Mrs. Lockhart’s door, and that of the defendant’s index finger are a match, excluding all other fingerprints?”
“It is.”
“I have no further questions of this witness.” Davis picked up his papers and returned to his table. When he looked, most of the people on the jury had already turned their attention to the defendant and his attorney, but juror number three, a short woman in her late twenties was still looking at him. She appeared to have a question on her mind and that happened sometimes. Maybe when the jury was in deliberations, she would ask for a clarification. Other than that, there was nothing Davis could do about it. He couldn’t even imagine what he missed, at least not where the fingerprints were concerned.
Jackie noticed it too. Most of the time, the DA had his back to her, and she wouldn’t be able to see him better until she got back to the hotel and watched the video that Michael and Carl were making. Did this man look more like his mother or his father? In her business, that was a valid question. Even with the age progression software that Michael used to make their subjects look older, she was never quite convinced until they actually found the missing person.
She suspected her own son looked like his father, but each time Michael enhanced Brian’s baby picture, he looked more like her. She couldn’t help herself. Jackie turned in her seat and began to glance at the faces of the young men behind her. She was surprised to see that the kid with the orange Mohawk had come back for the afternoon session. The one with dreadlocks had not.
“Hey, where are you going?” Michael asked Carl.
“I’m off to pick up the boss.”
“The trial isn’t over yet.”
“Worried about me, Michael? I’m touched.” Carl grabbed his baseball cap off the table and went out the door.
“I would have gone with him, you know.” Michael muttered. He watched, but he got no reaction from Jackie. She was so good at not letting him know what she was thinking. All he could do was hope she thought about him at least once a day. He sure thought about her often enough.
“Mr. Livingston?” the judge asked.
“Thank you, Your Honor.” He stood up, but remained beside his table. “Mr. Knoll, can you say for certain that Mark Barrett’s fingerprint was left on the bedroom door in the early hours of June 9th?”
“No, there is no way to verify when the door was touched.”
“Thank you. Now, were you able to identify fingerprints belonging to any of Mrs. Lockhart’s children?”
“Objection, not in evidence, Your Honor.”
“Your Honor, the state put the expert’s report into evidence. Therefore, the defense has the right to question him about the other fingerprints.”
“Objection overruled,” said the judge. “You may answer the question, Mr. Knoll.”
“Well, we probably found fingerprints belonging to all four of Mrs. Lockhart’s children, but we were unable to verify which belonged to whom.”
“Why was that?”
“We didn’t have the fingerprints of the four children on record. They refused to come to the station to be printed.”
Livingston intentionally raised an eyebrow. “They refused, I see.” He paused long enough for that to sink into the minds of the jury. “Of the fifty or so prints found at the murder scene, were three more prominent than the others?”
“They were.”
“Can you tell us where those prints were found?”
“We got a good palm print off the banister.”
“Was that the staircase bannister leading up to Mrs. Lockhart’s bedroom?”
“To the second floor, yes, sir.”
“And the other two?” Livingston asked.
“We found a set of four fingerprints on the door.”
“The front door?”
“Yes, sir.”
“On the inside or the outside of the door?”
“The inside.”
“Do you believe the prints were from the fingers of the same hand?”
“I do.”
“Which hand?”
“The left hand.”
“You mean like someone pulled the door closed after they went out?”
“Could be.”
“In your expert opinion, are those the fingerprints of a man or a woman?”
“A woman. The hand was certainly smaller than mine.”
“Where else were prints found?”
“There were four fingerprints on the footboard of Mrs. Lockhart’s bed.”
“Her footboard? Could you show us the way a person would have to touch the footboard to leave those prints?”
“Well, they were on the inside of the footboard, like he...or she, grabbed it like this.” The expert curled his fingers down, leavin
g a gap between his fingers and his hand.
“Thank you, Mr. Knoll. That set of prints were found on the bed she died in, is that correct?”
“That is correct.”
“And just to be clear, none of those prints could be identified as belonging to the defendant, Mark Barrett?”
“That’s right.”
“Mr. Knoll, after Mark Barrett was arrested, did you stop trying to identify the other fingerprints?”
“I did.”
“Thank you, Mr. Knoll, I have no further questions.”
“Jackie, the judge keeps watching juror number four in the front row. I’ve been watching her too. She doesn’t seem to be paying attention and instead, keeps fiddling with something in her lap. I can’t see what it is, but...”
“Redirect, Mr. Davis?”
“No, Your Honor,” Davis answered.
“Gentlemen, if you will give me just a moment.” Judge Blackwell motioned for the bailiff to come close and whispered in his ear. When he finished, he said, “Thank you. Gentlemen, let’s end today’s session. I’ll see both sides in my chambers. Bailiff, you may remove the jury. Court shall reconvene at nine a.m. tomorrow morning.” Judge Blackwell lightly banged his gavel and got up.
“All rise?” shouted the Bailiff.
Davis exchanged perplexed looks with Livingston, but Livingston only shrugged. The DA picked up a note pad and pen, and as soon as the judge disappeared through the door to his chambers, both attorneys followed him.
“I bet juror number four is about to get bounced for some reason,” said Michael as he watched Jackie and Holly walk out of the courtroom on the monitor.
“Maybe she’s sick,” Carl said.
“Could be, but I think it’s more serious than that. The judge sure didn’t look happy when he left.”
CONSIDERING THE WAY Mark’s parents hurried out of the courtroom, it was clear they weren’t interested in helping Holly avoid the news-thirsty reporters waiting on the front steps of the courthouse. Holly wasn’t in any hurry to leave this time either, and didn’t get up, so Jackie stayed with her.
“Do you need a ride?” Jackie asked.
“No, my hotel is not very far away. I’ll be fine.”
“Where are you staying?”
“The White Dove Hotel. The day before I came, I got a voucher for a free room and room service in the mail. There was no return address and the voucher says I can stay as long as the trial lasts. I didn’t like the idea of taking charity, but on the flight, I thought – why not?”
“You don’t know who sent it?”
Michael sat up a little straighter on the sofa. “I’m on it, Jackie. Let’s see who owns the White Rain Hotel. I bet it’s one of Atticus Lockhart’s hotels.”
Holly sighed. “I suspect Mark’s parents sent it just to make sure I came. I haven’t asked them, nor do I intend to. If it was them, it’s the only generous thing they have ever done. I worry they’re staying in the same hotel, but so far, I haven’t run into them.”
Jackie looked around. “We should go now. The courtroom is empty.”
“Okay.” Holly slowly got up. “I hate having to face the press again. I was hoping they would go away before I came out.”
“We could try going out the back door again.”
Holly smiled. “Maybe we can give that brown van a flat tire or smash in a window. They deserve it for taking my picture without permission.”
“My associate is supposed to pick me up. I’ll have him check the parking lot.” Jackie stopped, got her cellphone out, and called Carl. “Where are you?” she asked.
“I figured you’d go out the back?”
“Do you see a brown van?”
“Funny you should ask about that,” Carl answered. “They had a little engine trouble and had to call for a tow. The coast is clear.”
Jackie grinned. It wouldn’t be the first time Carl used a remote device to give a bothersome vehicle some kind of mysterious engine trouble. “Thank you. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
Holly looped her purse strap over her shoulder, walked with her new friend out of the courtroom, around the corner, and down the long hallway. “The thing about the room is...there were fresh flowers and a bowl of fruit in it when I arrived. I don’t think Mark’s parents would pay for flowers. They hate me.”
“Maybe all the rooms have fresh flowers.”
“Maybe so, I haven’t stayed in enough hotels to know.”
“I have, and some hotels do that for their customers free of charge,” said Jackie.
“Good, I won’t worry about it then.”
Except for a black limo, the parking lot was completely empty. Jackie nodded to the driver, but instead of getting in, she continued to walk down the street beside Holly. When she glanced back, Carl was slowly following them.
Holly stopped when they reached the corner. “Jackie, my hotel is just down the block. I can make it from here. Are you going to court tomorrow?”
“I’ll be there. Would you like for me to sit with you again?”
“Please. I don’t want to deal with Mark’s father, and if I sit next to him, sooner or later he’ll say something to me.”
“I’d be happy to play buffer again. People can be very cruel sometimes.”
Holly nodded. “Yes, they can, especially when they refuse to hear the truth.”
“Get some sleep, you look exhausted.”
“I will. See you in the morning.” Holly smiled and walked away.
Jackie watched until Holly entered through the hotel door and disappeared. When she looked back, Carl was holding a back door open for her. “A limo?” she asked.
“They didn’t have anything else. Guess there’s a convention in town.” He frowned at her. “You look tired, too.”
“I am, a little. I didn’t count on how hard those benches are.”
He closed the door and rushed around to the driver’s side. The limo was blocking traffic, but neither of them cared. As soon as they were moving, Jackie took the necklace off, pulled the wireless out of her ear, and dropped both in her purse. Next, she pulled out her cellphone, put it on speaker and called Michael.
“Hey, boss. You sure look nice today.”
Jackie rolled her eyes. “I suggest you save your flattery for the court reporter. What do you have for me?”
“Well, the White Rain Hotel website lists Atticus Lockhart as the owner, just like I suspected. All the rooms have flowers and bowls of fruit. We’ve stayed in his hotels before and he likes giving his clients a taste of luxury.”
“With his mother’s money?”
“Probably.”
Jackie sighed. “Carl, why don’t you go to court tomorrow and hang around those two brothers just to see if you can figure out what they are up to. They seemed awfully interested in Mrs. Lockhart’s mail.”
Carl wrinkled his brow. “They sure did. Want me to bug them?”
“No, it’s not worth the trouble. Do we have anything new on our client’s behalf?”
“Nothing new,” Michael answered. “I’m convinced we’re on the right track though. All we have to do is figure out how to get close enough to get a DNA sample.”
Carl said, “It doesn’t look like it is going to be that easy.”
“No, it doesn’t, but we’ll figure something out,” said Michael.
“Anyway to find out who actually paid for Holly’s voucher?” Jackie asked.
“I’d have to break into the hotel computer, which I can do, but is it worth the trouble?” Michael asked. “It was probably Atticus. He managed to look at Holly once. None of the others have. Maybe he has a bit of a guilty conscience.”
“Or a crush on Holly,” said Carl. “Who wouldn’t? She’s a knockout.”
“I believe the word people use these days is awesome. You date yourself when you call a woman a knockout.”
“Who cares, Michael?” Carl shot back.
“I’ve been thinking,” said Jackie.
Carl shifted his ey
es from the road to the rearview mirror. “Uh, oh, here it comes.”
“I don’t think the two of you have enough to do,” said Jackie. “I wouldn’t want you getting lazy.”
“Other than checking up on Mrs. Lockhart’s children?” Michael asked.
“Do you find that challenging?” she asked.
“Not really. We could start on another case, if you have one in mind.” Michael suggested.
Carl said, “You know, it might not be Atticus. One of the others might have paid for Holly’s room to make it look like Atticus did it. Maybe, they thought if the cops got close, they could cast suspension on Atticus and not...”
“Slone?” Michael asked. “That makes sense, although the two of them looked pretty chummy in court.”
“A conspiracy,” Jackie laughed. “I love a good conspiracy. Michael, could you tell what the sisters were talking about this afternoon?”
“I didn’t know we cared, but I’ll back it up and see if I can figure it out.”
“And find me a close up of the DA and Livingston. I’ve seen more than I care to of the back of their heads.”
“Okay,” said Michael. “Where we going for dinner?”
Jackie looked at a grinning Carl’s reflection in the rearview mirror. “You want dinner out tonight? There’s a restaurant right there in the hotel.”
“I know, but...”
“But what, Michael? Is something wrong?”
“No, nothing’s wrong...I guess.”
“Good, we’ll be home in a few minutes.” Jackie hung up the phone and then giggled. “It gets harder and harder to surprise him on his birthday. Is everything arranged?”
“We’re all set up. The chopper will land on the top of the hotel at exactly 7:00. I’d rather be flying it myself, but they got all kinds of new gadgets and trinkets on choppers these days. I guess I’ll have to stick to the Learjet.”
“You’re not trying to get me to buy you a chopper, are you?”
“Well, now that you mention it, I do have a birthday coming up soon.”
“The answer is no.”
“You’re not even going to think about it?” Carl asked.
“No, I’m not. We would have to give up the Learjet, and I like walking around when we travel.”
Greed and a Mistress Page 10
