He waved the illustration. “The proof is in the attachment.”
I stared at the illustration, at the wavy lines that showed the rock formations in the Trend and the rock formations on the Mack farm. Now, having had it described to me, I could explain it to the jury.
I started to gather my things. “I’ve taken enough of your time, Eli. Thank you.”
“Did that help?”
“You’ve given me exactly what I need.”
Timmons smiled. “Excellent!”
“I think you must be a great professor.”
He beamed.
“Please send me a bill.”
“And I get paid too? Even better.” Timmons seemed genuinely pleased.
I thought of something and it must have shown on my face.
“What?” said Timmons.
“An old trial rule, it’s better to show than tell. I hate to impose…”
He waved at me. “But?”
“Do you have any full-size diagrams of this? I just have a blurry black and white blow up. Do you have an electronic copy of the illustration?”
Timmons shook his head. “They’re all with the publisher.”
“What about a hard copy?”
Timmons frowned. “I don’t think the University wants me that involved, Nate.”
“I’d bring it right back.”
Timmons didn’t look convinced.
“I’ll have my associate bring it back as soon as we’re done. Tell you what, if you let us borrow it tonight, we’ll go have a copy made and return it.”
“This late?”
“We have a place on standby during trial.”
Timmons frowned then said, “If you’re using it to pin HOG, I can’t complain.” He went to a cabinet and pulled out a roll of laminated blow-ups. “These are from a presentation I did years ago.” He unrolled a three by five map that curled under its own weight. “I do want it back. And you didn’t get it from me.”
“Got it. We’ll bring it back tonight.”
Timmons smiled. “It’s a little late, Nate.”
“First thing tomorrow morning. My associate Danny will meet you here.”
“Fine then. Here.” He handed me the map. I unrolled it and saw a full color copy of what we’d been working from that night. “Perfect. I can’t thank you enough, Eli.”
“You’re welcome. And you really are going to have to join my wife and me at the symphony, you know.”
I glanced at his lapis lazuli award from the symphony on the shelf next to the encased, uncut diamond. “That would be great.”
“And your friend Olivia too.”
“I’m sure she’d be thrilled.”
He showed me out. “Good luck, Nate.”
“Thanks again, Eli. I owe you.”
He smiled and shut the door.
I hustled back out to my Jeep, confident that I had a motive tucked under one arm.
It was almost ten when I made it back to the office. Danny and Olivia were still there, running video. Danny waved. He looked tired.
Olivia stared at her screen like a terminator.
“Find anything?” I asked.
“Nothing we haven’t seen. We’ve been through the whole thing once and are going through again.”
“Want a break?”
Danny rubbed his eyes. “Sure.”
I handed him the rolled-up diagram. “Go over to Carrefour Graphics. Have them make a full color copy, preferably with a dry-erase cover so we can draw on it.”
He sighed. “Can they do that without an e-file?”
“I hope so. Then, tomorrow before trial, drop the original back off with Professor Timmons. He’ll be expecting you.” I described where Timmons’s office was and how to find him. “He wants us to keep his involvement quiet because of the University.”
“Then why’s he doing it?” said Olivia.
“I think he wants the spotlight but doesn’t think this is the right venue for it. He sends his regards and another invite to the symphony by the way.”
“Hmphf.”
“I think you made an impression.”
“Just different from the symphony crowd, I’d guess.” She grinned. “Which means we should go.”
I smiled. “I’ll check my root canal schedule.”
“Philistine.”
“Grr. Arrg.”
Danny turned his laptop off and packed up. “I’ll watch this some more while I wait then just go straight up to court tomorrow.”
I nodded. “See you then.”
Danny left. I went to my office and worked on Wellington’s cross-examination. Olivia sat in the conference room, watching video. We both knocked off just before midnight.
“Anything?” I asked on our way out.
“Too much and then not enough,” she said.
I raised an eyebrow.
“At the beginning of the night, there’s so much traffic it’s hard to tell who’s going where. At the end, it’s just the stuff you already know about—Hamish and Archie and Wellington.”
I nodded. “It has to be Wellington.”
“You think?”
“It’s the only thing that fits.” We walked out to our cars. “Long day?”
“Not bad.”
“That was a lot of video to watch.”
“And?”
“Headache?”
“No.”
“I appreciate your help.”
She waved it off. “You ready to go tomorrow?”
“Just about.”
“The case depends on it.”
“Working on it.”
She grinned. “Don’t fuck it up.”
“Thanks.”
“Good night.”
“Night.”
Olivia got in her car. I waited until it started then got in mine. As I pulled out, I got a text from Danny that he was done and would drop the copy of the chart off at the office tonight so I could pick it up it in the morning. I thanked him, went home, and went straight to bed.
43
The next morning, Judge Wesley looked at me and said, “Mr. Shepherd, is the defense ready to proceed?”
I stood. “We are, Your Honor. The defense calls Will Wellington.”
All eyes went to the back of the courtroom as Will Wellington walked in.
It's almost impossible to describe his unprepossessing manner. He had neat brown hair combed over to the side, was in his early forties, and had a fit but not too fit look to him. He smiled, a little shyly, and ducked his head but still managed to make eye contact with almost every single one of us on the way in. He wore a navy blue modern-fit suit, neither too loose for young people nor too tight for old, and wore a silk tie with blue and red stripes that was sure not to offend anyone. As he sat down, he looked like the most good-natured guy at the soccer banquet or the least judgmental man in church. He looked nothing like an ultra-successful wildcatter.
Or a murderer.
I swear the jury was smiling at him before he sat down.
“Could you state your name for the record please, sir?” I said.
“William O. Wellington.”
“And who do you work for Mr. Wellington?”
“I work for Hillside Oil & Gas. Going on eighteen years now.”
“So the jury knows, Mr. Wellington, you were subpoenaed to appear here today, weren't you?”
“I was, Mr. Shepherd. But all you had to do was ask. I would've done my duty as a citizen.”
“Thank you, Mr. Wellington. What do you do for Hillside Oil & Gas?”
“I manage lease acquisitions.”
“Can you explain to the jury what that means?”
Wellington smiled. “Sure. There are properties around here that have oil and natural gas underneath them. We—meaning Hillside Oil & Gas—don't want to buy or take people's land from them. Instead, we just pay them for the right to drill for oil.”
“And how do you pay them for that?”
“We pay them a set rental fee and then we
pay them a percentage of the revenue that the well generates.”
“Is that a percentage of the profits?”
Wellington smiled. “No, too many companies try to manipulate that. We pay landowners a straight percentage of the gross or total revenue that the well brings in. It’s up to us at Hillside to manage our own expenses. We want to be a good partner.”
“I see. And did you acquire a lot of oil leases in nearby counties in the early 2000s?”
“I didn't acquire all of them. But I did acquire a fair number for Hillside during that time, yes, sir. Jackson, Hillsdale, Calhoun counties all had a good number.”
“Did those wells produce?”
“Oh, yes, sir. Hillside Oil made a lot of money for the landowners during that time.”
“And for itself?”
“Well, of course, yes.”
“Mr. Wellington, does the name Albion-Scipio mean anything to you?”
Wellington nodded and smiled. “Oh, yes, sir. That's the biggest find that's ever occurred in Michigan.”
“Were you involved in that find, Mr. Wellington?”
“Oh, no, sir, the first well in the Albion-Scipio Trend was found back in 1957. It was outlined and explored pretty well by the early 1980s.”
“Now you said the word ‘trend.’ That's a type of rock formation that holds the oil, right?”
“Yes, sir. It’s the most famous one in our great state.”
“Mr. Wellington, I’m handing you what's been marked as Defendant’s Exhibit 19. Can you identify that for me?”
“Yes, sir, it’s a map of Michigan that shows the active oil and gas wells in the state.”
“Olivia, could you please put that up?” Olivia, who’d agreed to sit in for Danny, popped the map up on the screen. “Mr. Wellington can you identify the wells that are part of the Albion-Scipio Trend on that map?”
“Yes, sir. See this green cluster of wells that forms a big diagonal line?”
“I do.”
“Those are the wells that are part of the Albion-Scipio Trend.”
“You’ve seen this map before?”
He smiled. “I wouldn’t be doing my job if I hadn’t.”
“You have a map of the Trend in your office, right?”
“Indeed, I do.”
I pointed to the map. “And these are the county lines here, right?”
“That's right.”
“So the Albion-Scipio Trend isn't in Ash County at all, is it?”
“No, sir, it's not.” He smiled. “Though we surely wish it was.”
“You’re being modest though, aren’t you, Mr. Wellington? You went on a hot streak in the 2000s and early teens, right?”
“We did. Technology improved so that we could find some pretty good pockets of oil.” He smiled and shook his head and pointed. “Nothing like that though.”
“Still, it was enough for you and the landowners to do well?”
“Yes, sir, we've had that good fortune.”
“But that good fortune doesn't keep you from looking for the next Albion-Scipio, does it?”
Wellington smiled and for the first time I saw a hint of the steel underneath. “Well, sir, everyone is looking for the next Albion-Scipio.”
“The next Albion-Scipio would be worth a fortune?”
“Yes, sir. Yes, it would.”
“Fair enough. Mr. Wellington, I’m going to ask you some questions about Mack Farms.”
“Well, that would be just fine, Mr. Shepherd.”
“First, so the jury can see, I'm going to put a circle on this oil well map where Mack Farms is.” Olivia put a yellow circle up on the screen. “Do you see it?”
“No, sir.”
I looked at him. “You don't?”
Wellington smiled. “No, sir. I see a circle that Miss Olivia put on the map. Is that the one you're talking about?”
I smiled. “It is.”
“Oh, well then, yes, sir, I see it.”
“Very good. Mack Farms is some miles away from the Albion-Scipio Trend, isn’t it?”
“It is, yes. A good twenty-two miles from the bottom end.”
“Thank you. Mr. Wellington, can you explain to the jury what all these yellow dots are between the Albion-Scipio Trend and Mack Farms?”
“Yes, sir. Those are dry wells.”
“And what are dry wells?”
“Those are wells that people drilled that didn't strike anything except rock and dirt.”
“So people have tried the area between the Mack Farms and the Albion-Scipio Trend before?”
“All the time.”
“And no one has found anything?”
“Not in a straight line, no. There were some other wells that you can see on there scattered about, especially that grouping in Hillsdale we were talking about earlier, but on this particular line, no.”
“Now, Mr. Wellington, we’ve mentioned the Albion-Scipio Trend a few times but the jury might not understand the scale of it. How big is it?”
“It’s not very big in size, Mr. Shepherd, but it’s one of the best producing oil finds in state history.”
“How much are we talking about?”
“Around fifty-nine million barrels of oil since it started.”
“Goodness. What about natural gas?”
“About fifty billion cubic feet.”
“Mr. Wellington, was that billion with a ‘B?’”
“Yes, sir, it was.”
“My word. So that was quite a find, wasn’t it?”
“It certainly was.”
I pointed at the map. “So these other wells scattered about the area, did you procure those leases?”
Wellington nodded. “Most of them.”
“So what changed between the 1980s and early 2000s? Why were some of those wells starting to hit?”
“Technology. We started using certain kinds of imaging to look below the surface for certain kinds of formations that lead to oil.”
“Was this new?”
“New to Michigan. It'd been used in other parts of the world before, just never around here.”
“What do you look for?”
Wellington smiled. “See now Mr. Shepherd, that’s proprietary and just about as big a trade secret as there is in my industry.”
“So you won't tell us?”
“I'm afraid I can't.”
“Mr. Wellington, let me show you a different map.” I took out the three-foot by five-foot blow-up of Professor Timmons’s illustration and set it on an easel where Wellington and the jury could see it. “In the course of your work, do you have occasion to review geological diagrams?”
“I do.”
“And as part of your work do you analyze rock formations?”
“I’m more of a contract guy, but yes.”
“Your company does, certainly?”
“Sure.”
“You see this line here?”
“I do.”
“That’s the Albion-Scipio Trend?”
“It is.”
“And it’s located in a very specific kind of rock formation, isn’t it?”
Wellington shifted in his seat. “It is.”
“They’re identified on this map as synclines, right?”
“I’m sorry, you’re getting into an area I don’t feel comfortable discussing.”
“Because it’s a trade secret?”
“Yes.”
“Well, you filed this document as part of public filing, didn’t you?”
Wellington blinked. “What do you mean?”
“I’m handing you what’s been marked as Defense Exhibit 38. Do you recognize that document?”
“I do.”
“It’s a lease for a well between you and a landowner right here in Ash County, isn’t it?”
“It is.”
“And you typically file this document with the county to protect Hillside Oil’s interest in the lease, right?”
“I do.”
“Turn to the first attachment, plea
se.”
He did.
“Is that a copy of the illustration we have blown up here for the jury?”
He licked his lips. “That’s not supposed to be attached.”
“Is that a copy of the illustration we have blown up here for the jury?”
He flipped to the front. “This was my first lease.”
“Do I have to ask a third time?”
Stritch stood. “Objection, Your Honor. This is completely collateral.”
Judge Wesley looked at me.
“Judge, the assailant’s words made this relevant. Further, Mr. Wellington was present the night of the attack and these issues are related to conversations that occurred that night.”
Judge Wesley thought. “I’ll allow it, but bring it around soon, Mr. Shepherd.”
“Go ahead, Mr. Wellington,” I said.
“I can’t,” said Wellington.
“Your Honor, could you direct the witness, please?”
“Mr. Wellington, Mr. Shepherd is asking you about a publicly filed document. There is no trade secret protection for that. However, Mr. Shepherd, your questions in that regard should be limited to the document itself.”
I nodded. “Mr. Wellington, is that attachment to your lease a copy of the illustration we have blown up here for the jury?”
We’d talked a lot about rocks. Wellington looked like he wanted to crawl under one as he said, “Yes.”
“This illustration shows rock formations known as synclines running the length of the Albion-Scipio Trend, don’t they?”
I watched him work out how to answer the question. We all did. Finally, Wellington said, “The illustration shows that.”
I circled an area on the illustration. “Mr. Wellington, would you agree with me that the area I just circled on the illustration also contains syncline formations?”
“The illustration shows that.”
“Would you agree with me that none of the area immediately surrounding that circle contains syncline formations?”
“That’s what the illustration shows.”
I flipped a clear plastic overlay over the illustration. The overlay had the county roads marked in black and Mack Farms marked with a red square.
Mack Farms fit entirely within the circle.
I tapped the red square. “That’s the location of the Mack Farms on the illustration, isn’t it?”
“Mack Farms isn’t on the illustration.”
Blind Conviction (Nate Shepherd Legal Thriller Series Book 3) Page 28
