New Tricks (32 page)

“Sure,” she says.

“Good. Go to Sykes’s office, and when he leaves, give him a call on the cell phone number we got from Sam’s records.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Sorry, wrong number. I just need to make sure it’s his cell phone, and that he carries it with him.”

I explain what I’m talking about without taking too long, since it’s delaying my getting into bed with Laurie. But I do make
the mistake of putting forth one more conversational gambit. “I know I’m not supposed to talk about this, but it’s great having
you here and involved. It felt like old times tonight.”

She smiles. “I’m enjoying it. I feel like I’m back in the action.”

“You know, if multiple murder and depravity is your thing, there’s really nothing like New Jersey.”

I
DON’T HAVE TO
adjust our witness list to include Thomas Sykes. That’s important, and far more than a convenience. This way Sykes already
understands the possibility that he will be called, and will not be surprised when he is. He will also not be unduly alerted,
and will not feel he is a target. For us to have a chance, I’m going to have to take Sykes apart on the stand, and I want
him unprepared for the onslaught.

I’m not a big fan of fair fights.

I call Sykes in his office before the start of court in the morning, and I am surprised and pleased that he is already there.
“Mr. Sykes, I just want to alert you that you will be handed a subpoena today requiring your appearance in court tomorrow.”

“For what purpose?” he asks.

“You’ll be a witness for the defense. I had hoped to avoid calling you, but it doesn’t seem like I have a choice.”

“What do you hope to get from me?” he asks.

“I’m going to talk to you about the lifestyles of both victims, unfortunately including your relationship with Mrs. Timmerman.”

“You’re going to slime the victims?” he asks. “Is that your style? I had been told you were better than that.”

“I choose to call it defending my client,” I say. “See you tomorrow.”

I think the call went pretty well, and that Sykes will have no reason to think I have any agenda other than the one I just
mentioned.

When Steven is brought into court, I consider whether to alert him to what is going on. I decide against it; it might raise
false hopes, and we’re dealing with a very long shot. Besides, there are only a few minutes before Hatchet comes in, and Steven
would have an hour’s worth of questions.

Kevin is not in court this morning; he is making sure that the subpoena is served, and getting some other information that
we need. It’s nice for him; this way he doesn’t have to be embarrassed by the pathetic string of witnesses we have planned
for today.

The first of those witnesses is Dr. John Holland, a professor of criminology at the John Jay College of Criminal Justice in
Manhattan. Holland is a leading expert in blood spatter, and his work as an expert witness probably allows him to quadruple
his annual salary as a college professor.

My goal with Holland is to affirmatively establish the points I made when I cross-examined the prosecution’s forensic witness.
“How likely is it that the person who shot Walter Timmerman from point-blank range was splattered with blood, brain matter,
and skull fragments?” I ask.

“At that range it is a certainty,” he says.

“And if he then got into his car, and transferred trace amounts of the splatter to the interior of the car, how likely is
it that the transferred material would be only blood?”

“Virtually no chance,” he says, and I let him go on to explain. He likens it to making a pasta sauce, starting with marinara
and adding ground meat, olive oil, Worcestershire sauce, cream, and assorted other ingredients. If you eat some, there’s no
way you’re going to have only pure marinara running down your chin. With this explanation, he manages to effectively make
his point while equally effectively making the jury nauseous.

Richard’s cross-examination is short, as if he doesn’t think the witness is worth spending a lot of time with. He talks about
the bleeding that would take place after the initial splatter, and how blood that was virtually pure could have pooled on
the ground.

On balance, the witness certainly favors us, but I’m sure that Richard has experts in reserve whom he can call in rebuttal.
I’m also sure he doesn’t think he will need to, and at this point he’s right.

Just before lunch Laurie comes in and passes me a note telling me that the phone call went perfectly, and a few minutes later
Kevin arrives as well, with the documents we need. The stage is basically set for tomorrow, except for preparation tonight.

I just wish it were tomorrow already.

My afternoon witnesses are perfunctory at best. I call two associates of Walter Timmerman, who testify as to how secretive
about his work he was in the months before he died. They describe the behavior as uncharacteristic, and both refer to Timmerman
as a normally collaborative man when it came to his science.

Finally, I bring in an officer at Timmerman’s bank, who testifies to the twenty-million-dollar wire transfer he received weeks
before his death. The money came from a numbered Swiss account, and therefore the source is impossible to trace. He admits
that it was the first time Timmerman had ever received a transfer of this type. While he is too circumspect to admit that
it is suspicious, I believe that the jury will find it so. Of course, it’s a bit of a stretch for them to believe that someone
would send him twenty million dollars and then kill him.

Like he does every night, Kevin comes by for dinner and so that we can prepare together. Usually, we are on the same page
when it comes to getting ready for a trial day, but when we are facing a crucial witness we are complete opposites.

Kevin thinks we should have a mock session, where he plays the witness role, in this case Sykes, and I fire questions at him.
That way he believes I can hone my approach and only follow the lines of questioning that have been proven to work in this
fashion. He wants us to analyze what Sykes might say from every angle, and prepare questions designed to overcome his defenses.

While I see the logical merit of Kevin’s argument, it just isn’t my style. I need it to be free-flowing; I can’t be restricted
by meticulously pre-planned tactics.

The only thing bothering me right now is my inability to see how I can get the murder of Charles Robinson connected to Sykes
and therefore before this jury. My theories aren’t well developed enough to have included a motive for Sykes to have killed
Robinson. Perhaps it was a fight over the fruits of Walter Timmerman’s labor, but it feels like I’m stretching.

After Kevin leaves, Laurie and I talk some more about the case, until I’ve reached my saturation point. When we’re ready to
go to bed, Laurie says to me, “Big day tomorrow.”

I nod. “Yeah. Especially for Steven.”

“Do lawyers have to abstain from sex the night before a big game, like athletes?” she asks.

“On the contrary, it’s encouraged. It clears the mind and makes questions crisper and clearer.”

“Is that right?”

“Absolutely. The more sex, the better the lawyer. That’s why so many hookers have become Supreme Court justices.”

“Then by tomorrow morning they’ll be calling you Chief Justice Carpenter.”

W
E NEED A
P
ERRY
M
ASON
M
OMENT
.

Actually, what we really need is Perry Mason, but since he must be pushing 130 years old, we probably have a better chance
at getting one of his moments.

A Perry Mason moment is when the witness cracks under the relentless pressure of a brilliant defense attorney and confesses
to the crime right on the stand. A perfect example of it was when Tom Cruise asked, “Did you order the code red?” and Jack
Nicholson screamed back at him, “You’re goddamn right I did!”

The first thing I do when the court session is convened is ask for a meeting with Hatchet and Richard in chambers. I tell
them, “My first witness is going to be Thomas Sykes, and I would like him designated as a hostile witness.”

Hatchet seems surprised. “He is hostile to the defense?”

“He’s going to be,” I say. “We believe that Thomas Sykes murdered Walter Timmerman, and we are going to use his testimony
to show the credibility of that theory.”

“Whoa,” Richard says. “I thought you were blaming some international bad guys after Timmerman’s work. Where is this coming
from?”

I smile. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to wait for the show to open. But it’s legit, Richard.”

“Does the prosecution wish to lodge an objection to my declaring this witness hostile?” Hatchet asks.

“No objection. But I would remind Your Honor that defense counsel cannot make reckless charges without foundation.”

“It’s lucky you’re here to remind me of things like that,” Hatchet says, drily. “If I didn’t have you, I’d have to invent
you.”

We get back to court, and when Steven is brought in I greet him in what I think is the same way I do everyday. But no sooner
have I said hello than he asks, “What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“Something’s up,” he says. “There’s something about you that’s different today.”

“Just keep your fingers crossed,” I say, before Hatchet comes in and we’re all rising to our feet.

Sykes takes the stand, and Hatchet reminds him that he is still under oath from his last trip there.

“Mr. Sykes, Walter Timmerman was the founder of Timco, the company you currently preside over as CEO. Is that correct?”

“It is.”

“And how many years did you know Mr. Timmerman?” I ask.

He thinks for a moment before answering. “Twenty-two.”

“He was instrumental in your career advancement?”

“Yes. Very.”

“Mr. Sykes,” I say, “do you remember when I came to visit you in your office?”

“I do.”

“And do you recall that I told you I had evidence that you had been having an affair with Walter Timmerman’s wife, Diana?”

“Yes. I recall that.”

Sykes seems pretty much at ease. This is what he expected was coming, and he is prepared for it.

“And did you admit that you were having an affair with Diana Timmerman?”

“I said that we were in love,” he says, lying through his teeth. “I told you that it wasn’t anything we had planned; it just
happened.”

“So you admit to the relationship here, under oath, as well?”

“Yes.”

“Did you also tell me that it was your belief that Walter Timmerman was also unfaithful to his wife?” I may be stretching
this too far, but I want Sykes to be totally confident of where I’m going, so when I strike it will be a shock to him.

“Yes, I told you that, but I also said I only suspected it, and had no firm information about it.”

“Mr. Sykes, did you kill Walter Timmerman?”

He snaps back in the chair as if I had punched him in the chest. “What? No. Of course not. How could you ask me something
like that?”

“Mr. Sykes, the way it works here is that I ask the questions and you answer them. Until now, I thought you had that down
pat.”

Richard objects to my mistreating the witness, and Hatchet sustains. Business as usual.

“Where were you the night of the murder?” I ask.

“I was at home,” he says.

I introduce the Timmerman house security log from that night as a defense exhibit, and then show it to Sykes. I get him to
read that it shows him arriving at the house at six forty-five in the evening.

“Is that accurate? Did you arrive there at that time?”

He seems to be trying to figure out the best answer, and finally nods. “Yes, apparently so. It was months ago, and I had forgotten.
I was only there a short time, and I think I went straight home from there. Though I may have run a couple of errands.”

“Why did you go there that night?”

“To see Mrs. Timmerman,” he says.

“Was Walter Timmerman at home?”

“He was not.”

“Did you know where he was?” I ask.

“No.”