Double Tap (29 page)

This is neatly done. Without this theory, Templeton faced the prospect that I might be able to argue with some plausibility that two shooters might have been involved. He has now shut that door nicely.

Templeton now starts to work a different angle. He gets the witness to confirm that he examined the fragments of the frangible round under a microscope and subjected several of the small pieces to examination by gas chromatograph and mass spectrometry. In essence this is a chamber in which the minute bullet fragments were burned at a high temperature and the gas emitted passed through a beam of intense light. The machine is able to identify the chemical composition of the particles. The chromatograph, once married to the mass spectrometer, in which high-energy electrons bombard the molecules of the item being tested, produces what is in essence a chemical fingerprint, no two of which are precisely alike. According to the witness, this allowed the ballistics lab to identify not only the manufacturer of the frangible bullet but the customer who bought it.

“Can you tell the jury,” says Templeton, “if frangible ammunition of the type found here—the frangible fragments taken from the body of the victim Madelyn Chapman—is generally available to the shooting public, to the average citizen over the counter in a gun shop?”

“No.”

“Well, then, who is the customer, the end user, of this kind of ammunition?”

“Generally there are two: law enforcement and the military.”

“And can you tell us, do you know where this particular bullet, the frangible round used to kill Madelyn Chapman, came from?”

“Yes. The Lake City Army Ammunition Plant in Independence, Missouri. A small-arms ammunition manufacturer for the federal government.”

“And do you know who the intended end user, the ultimate consumer of this particular round, was? Which particular agency of the federal government?”

“It was shipped to the United States Army, Quartermaster Corps.”

“Thank you. Your witness.” Templeton comes down and pushes the stool underneath the rostrum.

I wait a second for him to clear the aisle before I take the podium.

“You say you fired several test rounds through the Mark Twenty-three pistol, the one identified as People’s exhibit six, is that correct?”

“Yes. In order to acquire sample bullets against which to compare the one surviving bullet recovered during the autopsy.”

“And did
you
fire those test rounds, or did someone else fire them?”

“No.
I
fired them.”

“Let me ask you: When you fired these test rounds, did you mount the silencer, the noise suppressor, that was found along with the weapon at the scene on the firearm, or did you fire the test shots without it?”

“Both,” says the witness. “With the suppressor and without.”

“Why did you do that? Can you tell the jury?”

“Because we wanted to see if there were variations in the ballistics, the microscopic marks that were left on the test rounds.”

“Were there?”

“No.”

“Do you know why there were none?”

“If the suppressor is functioning properly, there shouldn’t be any variations. The bullet should pass cleanly through the bore of the suppressor without making physical contact so that it would leave no detectible striations on the bullet other than those imparted by the lands and grooves inside the barrel of the firearm itself.”

“And that was the case in this instance?”

“Yes.”

“When you fired these test rounds, did you notice any difference or variation in the recoil of the firearm when the silencer, the suppressor, was on the weapon as opposed to when it was not?”

The witness smiles from the stand.

“Your Honor, I’m going to object,” says Templeton. “Exceeds the scope of direct.”

“Your Honor, the state opened the issue of test shots in the lab to confirm ballistics. I think we have a right to explore the area.”

“I’m going to allow the question. You can answer,” says Gilcrest.

“Yes. There was a marked difference in the recoil with the suppressor on the weapon as opposed to not having it on.”

“Perhaps you can explain to the jury what recoil is,” I say.

“It’s the rebounding effect of a firearm as it is discharged. Law of physics: for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.”

“Is this commonly known by people who shoot as ‘kick’? That when they shoot a pistol or a rifle, they might say it ‘kicks’?”

“Yes.”

“Can you tell the jury how much kick, how much recoil, the forty-five automatic, that gun on the table, People’s exhibit six, produced when you fired the test shots.”

“I didn’t measure recoil,” he says.

“But, since you had a chance to shoot the firearm both with the suppressor, the silencer, mounted on the weapon as well as without it, which way produced the most recoil?”

“Without the suppressor.”

“So there was more kick without the suppressor than there was when the silencer was mounted on the gun?”

“That’s correct.”

“Can you give us an approximation as to how much less?”

“It was noticeable,” he says.

“Isn’t it a fact that there is literature, data, to support the proposition that recoil is reduced by as much as thirty percent through the use of a silencer on a handgun?”

“That sounds about right.”

“Is it true that the silencer, especially on a large handgun, acts as a muzzle brake?”

“Yes.”

“Can you tell the jury what a muzzle brake is?”

“It’s a device that can be applied, attached, to both pistols and rifles that serves to dispel some of the physical forces that produce recoil.”

“Usually attached to the end of the barrel, right?”

“Not always. Sometimes,” he says.

“But in this case the attachment of that silencer to that pistol”—I point to the table where both items are on display in front of the jury—“served not only to suppress the sound of the shots fired but also to reduce recoil, right?”

“Yes.”

“Would the reduction of recoil generally produce more accuracy—”

“Not necessarily.”

“Let me finish my question.”

“Sorry.”

“Would the reduction of recoil generally produce or permit more accuracy in the firing of a second shot that is fired within close proximity to an initial or first shot—say, where the shots are fired within a millisecond of each other?”

He looks at me, thinks about this. “Ah. Yes. That would probably be the case.”

“And it wouldn’t matter whether the shooter was an expert marksman or a novice: the application of that silencer to that weapon by the reduction of recoil would serve to steady and make more accurate the second shot regardless, would it not?”

The question seems to produce a little nervous tic in the witness’s left eye; the lid flickers a couple of times. “Yes. I suppose that’s true.”

“Let me ask you about the two different types of bullets used in this case: the solid lead bullet and the frangible bullet. Were you able to determine that the frangible bullet was actually fired from that gun, the one in evidence, the Mark Twenty-three?” I point toward the table.

“No.”

“So the only bullet that allowed you to make a definitive identification as to the firearm used was the solid lead bullet?”

“That’s correct.”

“And if, as in this case, the killer, the shooter or shooters—”

“Objection: assumes a fact not in evidence.”

“Overruled.” Gilcrest splits the hair and comes down on my side.

“If, as in this case, the perpetrator took the time to collect the spent brass and take it with him or dispose of it so that the police couldn’t find it, as was done here—and if, just assuming, two frangible bullets had been fired instead of a frangible and a solid bullet—it would have been impossible to trace the bullets that killed Madelyn Chapman to that particular weapon, wouldn’t it?”

The witness mulls this over, offers an expression of concession, nodding his head slightly. “That’s . . . that’s true.”

“So, by using a solid round, the killer made sure that your laboratory would be able to trace the bullet that killed Madelyn Chapman to that weapon, isn’t that true?”

“No. He took the chance that we would be able to trace the round to that firearm. It was always possible that the lead bullet could have been sufficiently damaged in firing that it would have been unusable for ballistics comparison.”

“Yes, but if he’d used a frangible round instead of the solid round, he would have made sure it couldn’t be connected to that handgun, isn’t that true?”

Grudgingly he nods. “Yes.”

“That’s all I have, thank you.”

“Redirect.” Templeton is off his chair and on his feet. He scrambles to the stool, pulls it out from under the rostrum, and mounts it almost in a single motion.

“Is there any evidence, any ballistic evidence, that the silencer was used during the commission of the murder of Madelyn Chapman?”

“No. Not that I’m aware of.”

“So it’s entirely possible that the handgun in question was used for the commission of this crime without that silencer attached, is that not correct?”

“Yes. That’s possible.”

Templeton has a problem: the noise of the two shots that killed Chapman. If any of the neighbors heard them, the cops would have a more definitive fix on the time of death. They don’t. He goes to work on this.

“Can you tell the jury, how loud is that handgun?” He points to the pistol on the table.

“Suppressed or unsuppressed?”

“Objection: the witness is not a sound and noise expert.”

“I’m not asking for scientific measures,” says Templeton, “only as to within his common experience, having fired the weapon.”

“I’ll allow it,” says Gilcrest.

“Without the silencer, is that handgun, in your opinion, loud?”

“It’s quite loud.”

“Did you have to wear ear protection when you conducted the test firing of the weapon?”

“I did.”

“Do you know—can you tell the jury—in your opinion, would it be possible for shots fired from that pistol inside of a house on the ocean, perhaps with the noise of the surf in the background, to be heard in adjoining houses or on the street?”

“I don’t know.”

“Objection: calls for a conclusion beyond the expertise of this witness.”

“Sustained.”

Templeton fumes, then tries again. “Assuming the shots were fired in rapid succession,” says Templeton, “two of them: would they be distinct as gunshots to someone, say, situated inside another house perhaps a hundred feet away, with several walls in between?”

“Same objection, Your Honor.”

“Your Honor, the witness has fired thousands of test rounds; he has years of experience firing handguns, all kinds of firearms. He knows what they sound like inside of a building and out—and whether two shots fired in rapid succession are likely to be recognized as that: two distinct gunshots. That’s all I’m asking.” Templeton makes it sound like a plea.

“I’ll allow the witness to answer that narrow question,” says the judge. “Would two shots fired in quick succession be distinguishable as gunshots outside a house under the conditions specified by counsel?” Gilcrest has a finger shaking at the witness.

“In my opinion—in my experience—it’s possible that they would not. They would probably sound like muffled pops.”

“Is there a reason for that, within the realm of ballistics?” says Templeton.

“Yes. The fact that the forty-five automatic pistol is subsonic has a dampening effect on the sound. There are two factors affecting noise as regards gunfire, one being muzzle blast and the other the supersonic crack of the bullet as it breaks the sound barrier. The second factor is not present with a forty-five automatic.”

“Thank you,” says Templeton.

“Mr. Madriani,” says Gilcrest. “Anything more?”

“Very briefly, Your Honor.” I take the rostrum.

“Did you examine the bore of the sound suppressor, the silencer, in evidence in this case before you fired your test rounds through it?” I ask the witness.

“I did.”

“And did you find any gunpowder residue inside the bore of the suppressor when you examined it, before you fired it?”

“Yes, I did. There was residue in the bore of the suppressor.”

“Wouldn’t that indicate that it had been used?”

“Yes. But there was no way to tell when it was used. It’s possible that it was used the day of the murder. It’s also possible that it was used on some prior occasion and put back in the bag without being cleaned. There was no way to determine how much residue was present or how long it had been there.”

The witness takes back a sizable portion of what he has given.

“Was there any rust in the bore?”

“No. Not that I could see.”

“Wouldn’t there be some signs of rust inside the bore if the gunshot residue had been left inside the bore for any length of time?”

“Not necessarily. It would depend on the conditions of storage.”

“One final question. If the handgun, that handgun, was used with the silencer attached during the commission of this crime, would anyone outside of the Chapman residence, in your opinion, have been able to hear the two shots that killed her?”

He swallows a little, then looks up at me. “No.”

“Where did you learn about recoil and suppressors as a muzzle brake?” Ruiz chews on a sandwich from the vending machine, the plastic wrapper on the table under his hand as we talk across the small stainless-steel table in the holding cell.

“I read a lot,” I tell him. “I’ve been educated by other lawyers who have laid waste to me because they knew more than I did. And on occasion I’ve learned the hard way: by clients who have lied to me. Just as you have.”

He stops chewing and looks up at me directly in the eyes.

“What are you saying?”

“That you didn’t tell us the truth about the rounds in the case. You knew they were frangible, didn’t you?”

“I told you this morning: I forgot they were there.”

“No, you knew they were there. Where did they come from? Tell me. It’s too late to play games. Who gave them to you?”

“Like I said, they were issued in the Army.”

“Not to just anybody, they weren’t. Where did you get them? Why were they issued to you?”