forgery. It looks a little like my husband's signature, but it's much stiffer and jerky."
Adams raised his eyebrows. Well, we don't have any way of checking an initial signature. We compare it to the passport and driver's license but nobody here is an expert in handwriting analysis."
"Can I see the copies of the driver's license and passport?"
He turned a few more pages and then turned and showed us a photo copy of the driver's license. Alice grimaced. It was Dan's driver's license. There was no doubt about the picture being him.
"I don't understand. I know my husband never came to George Town and he keeps his driver's license in his wallet."
"Is there any way the person who opened the account could have substituted the driver's license copy for the original one used?" I asked.
Adams thought for a moment. "Well, it would be difficult, but I suppose if the new accounts officer made the copy of the driver's license and then was called away or distracted he could have slipped in a substitute copy. But that's a bit of a stretch."
"But it is possible?"
"I suppose."
"Can we talk to the new accounts officer who opened this account? Maybe he or she will remember who opened it."
Adam looked through the file and said, "That would be Ms. Jenkins. I'll ask her to step in."
A few minutes later Ms. Jenkins stepped in but she didn't recognize any of the photos. "I'm sorry. I open so many accounts."
"It's all right," Adams said to her. She turned and left. "There is one other way we can figure this out."
"How's that?" I asked.
"The surveillance tapes. We're required to keep them for one year. I believe if we pull the right tape we can see who opened the account."
Alice sat up excitedly. "That would be wonderful!"
Adams smiled and stood up. "Give me a few minutes to find the right tape."
This was going better than I expected. Mr. Adams was being very cooperative. I was hopeful he'd find the surveillance tape, but something told me not to get my hopes up. I was right. A few moments later he came back with a glum look on his face.
"I'm terribly sorry, but I couldn't find the tape. It seems that it has been taken by the RCIP. It could be your FBI has asked for it."
"Probably," I said. "Maybe if I go over to the Central Police Station they'll have the tape and let us look at it. Do you have a record of who took it?"
"Yes, of course. I'll write the name of the officer, his station address, and telephone number. Hopefully he hasn't turned it over to the FBI."
We thanked Mr. Adams and left the bank. From a pay phone outside I called the detective but he was out. Then I remembered the officer who I'd met while I was canvassing all the marinas. I searched through my pocket and found his card. Luckily he was in. I told him who I was.
"Yes, Mr. Turner. How's your search going?"
"It was going pretty well until we discovered that someone from your office took the signature cards and the bank's surveillance tapes."
"Oh yes. We've been cooperating with the FBI on this case. We're getting ready to ship them to Texas for the trial."
"Is there any way we could look at the tapes today? We can come right over."
"Well, I suppose you have as much right to see them as the FBI. I better call them to be sure it's okay."
"That's fine. We'll have lunch and then be right over to see them. That should give you time to make the call."
Officer Brim agreed and I hung up. There was a restaurant down the street so we walked to it and went inside. I wasn't optimistic that we'd actually be able to see the tapes, but it was worth a try. We might get lucky. Alice was beaming with optimism.
"If the tapes show Ike or Ralph then it will be over, right? They'll have to dismiss the charges."
"I would think so, but I guess Ralph could still claim he set up the account at Ben's request.. It would be Ben's word against Ralph 's. He'd have a hard time explaining Ben's driver's license in the file, though."
"Yes he would. . . . Oh, I pray to God it shows one of them."
After lunch we went to the Central Police Station and asked for Officer Brim. He came out immediately and took us back to his office. There was a TV in the corner with a built in video player. He walked over to it and slipped in the tape.
"I called the FBI but the officer in charge wasn't available. I probably shouldn't be doing this, but I don't see how it could change anything by letting you take a look at it."
"Yes, your right. You've had custody of it since it left the bank so there's no danger of the evidence getting contaminated."
"No, so let's take a look," he said as he pushed the play button. "I've forwarded it to the date and time the person who set up the account supposedly arrived."
A picture came up of with a view of the new accounts desk. After a minute a man walked in.
"It's Ralph !" Alice exclaimed. "Ah ha! Look it's Ralph."
Tears began to run down Alice's cheeks as she pointed excitedly to the TV. Officer Brim seemed delighted as well.
"I've got more good news for you, Mrs. Stover. After I met Mr. Turner yesterday I started checking to see if there was any record of Mr. Herman being in the islands and I discovered he was involved in a barroom brawl the night after that bank account was set up. I've compared his prints from his arrest file with the prints on the signature card and they're a match.
"Oh, that's wonderful," Alice exclaimed. "This is such great news. Finally things are going right. We've got to call Ben and tell him."
"Thank you, Officer Brim. I really appreciate your help. This has been a very traumatic experience for Ben and Alice and hopefully now it will be over soon."
"Why does this guy Herman hate you so much?" Brim asked.
"He's an ex-son-in-law and I guess he never expected us to turn him in when we found him embezzling from us. He's been very bitter since he was arrested."
"Well, good luck to you."
We left the police station and went back to our hotel. Alice called her daughter to give her the good news and ask her to pass it on to Ben when she visited him at the jail. When Alice got off the telephone, I called the office to see how Paula's trial was going. Maria answered.
"The prosecution is putting on a good case. The jury loves Mr. Francis. Paula's worried by the time she's able to start putting on her defense that the jury will already have made up their minds."
"Well, that's always a danger, but Paula's pretty lovable herself. I'm sure when she gets going the jurors will listen."
"I told her that too, but you know how she can get sometimes. She's missing not having you at her side."
"She's got Bart. She doesn't need me."
"Yeah, well. I'm not so sure about that. Bart's a prosecutor at heart. He's not as helpful as he could be."
"Hmm. Well, I'll be home tomorrow, so tell her I'll be there if she needs me for anything."
I thought about what Maria had said. I wondered if Bart thought Walter Stanley was guilty. If he did, then he wouldn't be much help to Paula.
On the way back to our hotel I pondered what to do about Tehra. Was she still on the island or was she back in Texas? I wondered now that Kulchz and his men were leaving and the Tarizon Project was coming to an end, if it would be safe to tell Paula and Bart about the aliens. After giving it some thought, I realized it wouldn't be a good idea. The CIA would disavow any knowledge of the Tarizon project and I'd look like a lunatic if I brought it up. Even if I did have sufficient proof to make a credible case, what good would it do but cause fear and panic when the danger was already over? No, I'd have to keep my mouth shut, but at least the lies and deception would be over.
46
Good Fortune?
Paula Waters
On Friday morning, while I was gathering my files together to go to court, Maria told me that Stan had found exculpatory evidence at the bank in George Town that would get Ben Stover off the hook. I was excited and relieved to hear that and particularly
glad that Stan was on his way home. On Monday I'd likely be putting on our defense and it would be nice to have Stan around in case I needed him. I don't know why but he had such a calming effect on me. Perhaps it was because, no matter how bad things got, he never lost his confidence and resolve to win.
At 10:00 a.m. the judge took the bench and the case resumed. Francis called several more members of the board of directors of the Collin Commons Homeowner's association who gave their rendition of the feud between Walter Stanley and Chester Brown. Their testimony added little to what had already come out and I detected that the jurors were finding the redundancy a little tedious. So, I didn't bother to cross-examine them. Finally Francis called Ruth Willis who testified that her short affair with Chester Brown had long been over and that she held no animosity toward Chester or Mrs. Brown. She also provided an alibi for the time of the murder. She claimed to have been out of town at a business seminar the night of the fire. Before she stepped down, however, Francis asked her one last question.
"Do you have any military experience, Ms. Willis?"
"Oh, God no," she replied.
"You're not an explosives expert are you?"
She laughed. "No, I don't think so."
"So, you wouldn't know how to set off a fire remotely with a telephone and a blasting cap?"
She rolled her eyes. "I think not?"
"Ms. Willis. Did you hire someone to set the Brown's house on fire?"
"No!" she exclaimed. "Like I said, the affair was over. Gladys had forgiven her husband, and we were cordial again. It was just a little sex, it didn't mean anything."
Francis smiled and nodded. "Your witness, Ms. Waters."
I stood up. Francis had made a joke of my mention of Ms. Willis' affair with Chester Brown. If I didn't cross-examine her the jury might think I was trying to mislead and confuse them with irrelevant evidence.
"Ms. Willis, I'm glad to hear that Mrs. Brown had forgiven you and Chester for the affair and that you all were, at the time of the murders, the best of friends. But isn't it true that you could just be saying that since Ruth and Chester are not around to dispute it? Why should the jury believe you?"
Willis stiffened. "Because it's true. The affair was just a mistake. You know how passions can get out of hand sometimes."
"Yes, and how many times did your passions get out of hand—once, twice, or was it over one hundred times?"
A lady in the jury box put her hand over her mouth. There were sighs of shock in the gallery. I had no idea how many times Gladys' and Chester had done it, but I figured it was more than once or twice.
"Oh, no. Not nearly that many times."
"How many, then?"
"Objection! Your Honor. The number of times is irrelevant."
"Overruled," the judge said. "You brought it up counsel."
"How many?" I asked again.
"I don't know, I didn't keep count."
"Did you do it more than once in a day?"
"Ah. . . . I suppose, sometimes."
"How many times a week on average would Chester slip away to see you and have sex? You did have sex every time he came over, didn't you?"
She shrugged. "I don't know."
"I can call your friend, Ally. She lives next door. I 'm sure you must have kept her up to date. Should I do that?"
"No," she snarled. "Leave her out of this. . . . Okay, three or four times a week, maybe. I didn't put a notch on the bedpost every time we did it."
"And your fling lasted, what, four or five months?"
She nodded. "Okay, let's do the math. Four times four is sixteen. Sixteen times five is eighty, times, let's just say 1.5 for multiple sex, so that equals 120. So, you had sex with Chester Brown over a hundred times, but Gladys didn't care. She'd forgiven you for it. Is that your testimony?"
Willis let out a barely audible gasp, looked up at the judge, and then shifted in her chair looking exasperated. "Yes, so what? It was just a mistake and Gladys fortunately was a forgiving person."
Although when I started the cross-examination I hadn't believed that Ruth Willis had anything to do with the Brown murders, I felt I'd hit a nerve and she was feeling guilty about something. When Francis asked her if she'd hired someone to set the fire, her answer was just a little too emphatic. I knew she hadn't killed the Brown family, but Barbara was hiding something and whatever it was it had her in a near panic. It was time to go in for the kill and see what developed.
"Barbara, what is it that you know about the Brown murders that you're not telling us? I don't think you killed them, but you know something about how or why they died, don't you?"
Willis swallowed hard, her face became pale, and she looked away. A tear trickled down her cheek and she swatted it away like it was a common house fly. She crossed her arms and closed her eyes.
"Tell us what you know, Ruth. There's no way you can hide it. It's going to come out anyway."
"Objection!" Francis exclaimed. "Counsel is on a fishing expedition and badgering the witness."
The judge's eyes narrowed. "Ms. Willis, do you know something about these murders? If you do, you must tell us."
"No, not really. It's just that . . . well . . . this might be all my fault."
There was murmur in the gallery. A man got up and rushed out of the room. I motioned for Jodie to follow the man.
"Go on," the Judge ordered.
Francis stood up. "Your Honor. I've objected—"
"Objection overruled," the judge replied. "I think we need to hear what Ms. Willis has to say."
I said, "Go on, Ruth. How is all this your fault?"
"My ex-husband, Tim, is a very passionate man and loved me very much. When I left him two years ago it nearly killed him. After the separation I had to get a restraining order to keep him away from me. Many times he said he would kill the man who took me away."
"So, you moved down the street from Chester Brown not only to be close to him but to hide from your ex-husband," I suggested.
"Yes. I hadn't left Tim for another man but Chester was my first lover after the breakup."
"I see. So, what happened?"
"When Gladys Brown's PI discovered us together and reported it to her, she went ballistic and threatened to move out and take the kids. Chester loved those kids and couldn't let that happen. He said it was a bad time for a divorce and that it was over between us."
"Chester told you the affair was over?"
She lowered her head. "I'm afraid so, and I was so upset and hurt by it that . . . well . . . I told Tim all about Chester Brown and our relationship and let him think Chester had taken me away from him. He was livid, of course, and swore he'd kill him."
The gallery erupted in excited conversation. Reporters scrambled for the exits to phone in this startling development to their newsrooms. Francis jumped to his feet.
"Your Honor. Objection! This is pure speculation and highly inflammatory."
I looked over at Francis. "You bet it's highly inflammatory, but it's not speculation. Tim Willis made a death threat against Chester Brown and now he and his family are dead!"
The judge overruled Francis' objection and called a fifteen minute recess. Chaos broke out in the courtroom as everyone tried to fathom what had just happened. It suddenly came back to me that Bart and I had considered this scenario but never found any evidence to support it. The fear that immediately began to nag at me was that Tim Willis might have an alibi. If he did and Francis proved he didn't have the capability of remotely triggering the device, then we'd lose credibility and the jury might be skeptical when we started pointing fingers at Almatech. Although what just happened might be a stroke of good fortune, it could easily turn out to be our undoing. I just prayed Tim Willis was alone watching TV when the fire was started.
47
Breakthrough
Stan Turner
After helping Alice to her car in the DFW Airport parking garage, I called the office to tell them I'd landed and see if there were any new de
velopments. Maria told me that Paula had cracked a witness on cross examination and drawn serious blood. She told me to go straight to the courthouse as she and Bart needed help. I told her I was on my way.
When I got to the courthouse there was a ring of reporters around all the entrances. I tried to sneak in unnoticed but a reporter saw me and rushed over.
"Mr. Turner," the reporter asked. "What do you think of Ruth Willis' husband making death threats against Chester Brown?"
"I don't know what to think. I just heard about it myself a few minutes ago."
"Do you think the prosecution will drop the charges now considering this new evidence?" the reporter said.
I shrugged. "Probably not at this stage of the game. I imagine it will be up to the jury to acquit Walter Stanley. They certainly have good reason to now."
"Is Ms. Waters going to call Tim Willis?"
"I'm sorry. I've got to get inside," I said and pushed my way through the front door.
Jodie spotted me getting off the elevator a minute later and rushed over. "Stan, I am so glad you made it. You heard what happened, I guess."
"Yes, that's great. What's going on now?"
"Paula is still cross examining Ruth Willis. She wants you to talk to her ex-husband, Tim Willis. We need to find out if he has an alibi. If not, she wants you to serve him with a subpoena. Paul Thayer is checking into his background to see if he has any criminal history or military training."
"Any idea where I might find him?" I asked.
"Yes, he left here about thirty minutes ago. He either went home or to the General Motors assembly plant in Arlington. He works the second shift, I think. Here's his address."
Jodie handed me two pieces of paper, one with Tim's name, address, and the make and license number of his car written on it and the other a subpoena commanding him to appear as a witness in the trial. I looked them over. "Okay, I'll go straight over there. I just hope he'll talk to me. I can't serve this subpoena, though. We'll need a process server."
"I know. I called Jeb Lewis. He'll be downstairs in front of the clerk's office waiting for you."
I nodded and left. If Tim Willis had heard his ex-wife's testimony he'd be scared and probably skip work. He'd avoid going back to his apartment too. If he did go back, it'd just be to pack a few things for the road. My only hope would be that he'd linger too long and I'd catch him before he left. I found Jeb and we left in my car to look for Tim. When we arrived at his apartment complex, his car was still parked outside. I told Jeb to wait in the car. I wanted to talk to Tim first, if possible. I approached the front door cautiously and knocked. The door immediately opened and a young woman appeared.
"Hi," I said. "I'm looking for Tim. Is he around?"
"Ah. . . . No, I haven't seen him," the woman replied.
"But isn't that his car?" I pointed to the blue Buick in the parking spot directly in front of the apartment.
She looked at it blankly.
"I'm not a cop," I pressed. "My name is Stan Turner. I'm an attorney. I just want to talk to Mr. Willis for a minute."
"He's not here," she insisted.
"Come on. I know he's in there. Tell him I just need a minute or two."
She closed the door and I waited. After a few moments Willis stormed out and headed for his car. He was carrying an overnight bag. I rushed over to him.
"Mr. Willis. If I could have a
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