Untitled (41 page)

  "True," said Rashad. "But we now need him to rebut what we've just heard."

  "I object," said Marshall. "This is not procedure." He was worried. Rashad and Leslie had just taken great pains to get information out of Belson regarding contamination, and now they wanted to switch the use of a witness. He felt doom racing at him. "I think the government should at least know what he's going to testify to."

  "This witness has already testified as to the filters used to keep the test secure," said Rashad. "We need his testimony now to go along with our cross."

  "I'll allow it," said Langworthy. "But if it looks like it's going nowhere, I'm stopping and going home."

  The gallery laughed. Marshall sat and conferred with Ryder as the witness was called. Neither Ryder nor Walter knew what Rashad was up to.

  Rashad established the witness, Horace Parker, as a maintenance worker at the FBI testing lab. Parker was about thirty-five and thin. He had a sincere, almost boyish face under thick black hair.

  One of Parker's jobs was to change the filters that kept the air clean so that contamination would not occur. Parker testified that he had changed the filters in the lab on schedule and did a purity sweep of the room, and it all checked out. Rashad handed him an exhibit, a log showing the work Parker had done.

  "So, Mr. Parker," said Rashad. "Is that your signature there verifying that the clean room was indeed clean?"

  "Yes," said Parker.

  Rashad's demeanor turned serious. He moved closer to Parker. "This report is a lie, isn't it? You never did the work described, did you?"

  "Yes, I did," said Parker.

  "No, Mr. Parker," said Rashad. "You forged this document. You missed your rotation in the lab that day."

  "Objection," said Marshall. He rose out of his chair. He wanted desperately to stop what he knew was coming.

  "No, Counsel," said Langworthy. "Overruled."

  "Did you forge this document?" asked Rashad.

  "No," said Parker. "That's crazy. All the work I did is in the log."

  "Do you know who Katherine Martin is?"

  Parker's face showed shock. He straightened his back and adjusted in his seat.

  "Well, do you?" Rashad asked again.

  "Your Honor," said Marshall.

  "Quiet, Mr. Jackson," said Langworthy.

  Marshall sat back down. The feeling of doom was now one of panic. Rashad obviously had an investigator on the case and had found something on Parker. The witness was nervous as hell and began to look down at his feet, a sign that something bad was imminent.

  "Mr. Parker, are you going to answer me?" asked Rashad. "Do you know a woman by that name or not?"

  "I do," said Parker. Then he put his face in his hands. "Shit," he said. "I knew this would happen." Parker just kept cursing and talking to himself.

  "Watch the language, Mr. Parker," said the judge.

  "Tell this jury why you're upset, Mr. Parker," said Rashad. "And remember, you've already perjured yourself."

  Marshall now knew he was in deep shit. All he could do now was watch the testimony and hope the damage could be rectified.

  "I got to work late, the day I signed that log. I'd been with Katherine all morning."

  "This Katherine is your mistress?"

  "Yes."

  The gallery murmured, and Marshall could tell what was coming next.

  "So, you didn't change the filter, did you?"

  "No. I got in too late."

  "So, what did you do to the room where our sample was tested?"

  "I rigged the air quality computer to register that the room was clean before the test was done."

  "So the air, the sample, could have been contaminated?"

  "Yes."

  The gallery almost erupted in one voice. Langworthy gaveled over the din. "Please," he said.

  Rashad took a moment, enjoying the spectacle. Parker looked like he was about to pass out from stress. His arms and legs shook as he sat in the witness stand. Marshall seemed to be right with him. It was a disaster, and it wasn't over yet.

  "A contaminant molecule could have been amplified in the test, couldn't it?" asked Rashad.

  "Objection," said Marshall. "This witness is not an expert on DNA testing."

  "I'll withdraw the question," said Rashad. "Mr. Parker, was the room clean under your guidelines when the sample in our case was tested?"

  "No."

  Marshall was reeling from what he'd just heard. He considered asking for a recess, but that would give the jury time to think about what they had just heard without any counterpoint of view.

  He scrambled to get the data and questions that he'd used for Parker's direct testimony. He found them, then approached the witness.

  "Mr. Parker," said Marshall. "Did anyone know about what you did that day?"

  "Just me and Katherine and my friend Wally. I know that fucker told on me."

  The crowd laughed, and the judge admonished Parker to refrain from cursing.

  "But no one in the government knew, did they?"

  "No."

  Marshall had cleared his first hurdle. The government could not be accused of conspiracy now. They were innocent in this matter. Now, he had a more difficult procedure.

  Marshall got Parker to tell the court that he'd been on his job for ten years and knew the procedures of the lab. He had also taken courses on the air filtration system. He had a college degree and seemed to be a fairly smart guy. Then Marshall had Parker orally dissect the parts of a filter, which he did with professional aplomb.

  Rashad objected right where Marshall had hoped he would.

  "This line of testimony is not relevant," said Rashad. "It's obvious that the government is hoping to confuse the issue."

  "I move to have this witness admitted as an expert on the air filtration system of the lab," said Marshall.

  "We object," said Rashad. "He's a janitor, nothing more." "A person's professional status does not determine expertise," said Marshall. "The rules of evidence say all he needs is scientific, technical, or specialized knowledge. Mr. Parker has that."

  "I would agree," said Langworthy. "The witness will be considered as an expert."

  Rashad walked back to his table looking quizzically at Leslie Reed. Marshall continued. "How often are the filters changed in the lab?"

  "We change them every other day. It's a rule." Parker was calmer now but still looked a little guilty.

  "The filter you were supposed to change, how long had it been in the lab?"

  "One day."

  "So, it didn't have to be changed, did it?"

  "No, it was a special order from my supervisor."

  "So, if the filter was good, why did you rig the air controller?"

  "I was scared, man. I was covering my—butt," said Parker, catching himself.

  "Why didn't you just change the filter when you rigged the computer?"

  "It takes a long time. You have to take it out, replace it, then test the air for an hour. I didn't have time."

  "So, isn't it likely, in your expert opinion, that the filter performed its job as it was supposed to?"

  "Yes."

  Marshall was done. He had countered the bomb as much as he dared. He wanted to go on, but each second Parker was on the stand was a reminder that there might have been a blunder on their best piece of evidence.

  "No more questions," said Marshall.

  "Just one question," said Rashad. "Mr. Parker, in your expert opinion, isn't it just as likely that the filter may not have worked?"

  "No," said Parker. "It probably worked."

  "So why did you, the expert on filters, rig the computer?

Didn't you do it because you knew the air was contaminated?"

  "No, I was just scared," Parker said.

  "Why should we believe you? You lied to your bosses, you forged a report, and you lied here today."

  "Argumentative, Your Honor," said Marshall.

  "No more questions," said Rashad. "We're done with him."

  Parker walked off the witness stand as the crowd buzzed with excitement. Marshall felt weak. He could hardly move in his seat. He'd done a good job on Parker, but reasonable doubt loomed as a result of his mistake.

  Marshall called Dr. Belson back and asked just one question.

  "Doctor, knowing what you now know about the filters, would you say that the test was accurate?"

  "Yes," said Dr. Belson.

  Rashad didn't cross-examine Belson. He was too smart for that. Belson was a credible witness, and each question would reinforce the notion that the test was accurate. He'd hurt them with Parker and was not about to ruin it.

  Langworthy dismissed the court, and the reporters swarmed around Rashad and Leslie Reed. Marshall and his team sneaked out through the judge's chambers. He was not about to make matters worse by getting grilled on camera. Toby and Nate were probably both hopping mad.

  Marshall caught sight of Mbutu as he was led out. He should have been happy, but his face was solemn, as if Parker had not testified. Marshall wondered what was going on in his head. More urgently, he wondered what effect this would have on the conspiracy he felt existed beneath this case. Rashad may have dropped a bomb, but there might be a bigger explosion to come.

  Marshall left the court, avoiding the rabid press. When he and his team got back to the office, Toby was on a rampage. She yelled, cursed, and stomped around the office accusing everyone of failure. She was justified. With the DNA tainted, they could not put Mbutu in the crawl space. That meant the case could go either way. The ballistic evidence was persuasive, but not conclusive.

  Toby's wrath was great, but it eventually calmed. Bob Ryder looked like he was going to cry. The case was up for grabs now. Toby's faith was understandably shaken, but Marshall reminded her of the balance of their case against Mbutu, and this seemed to put her at ease.

  Toby left Detroit. She went back to D.C. without any fanfare. Marshall understood what this meant. Toby would now distance herself from the case. If Marshall were to lose, she could not afford to be blamed for it. No longer would she appear in the newspapers when the case was mentioned or give quotes. The case was looking like a loser, and Toby was no one's loser.

  Marshall dispatched Ryder and Walter to double-check the ballistic evidence. Marshall had two matters to resolve: he had to find a motive for killing Douglas, and he wanted to talk with Mbutu. He had to know why a man would allow himself to be prosecuted for a murder he didn't commit. Perhaps the resolution of one issue would shed light on the other.

  Marshall called Rashad and made an appointment to see Mbutu. He then went to the databases and looked up all the decisions of Douglas. Then he went over his background again.

  Douglas was a remarkable man. He was born in poverty but scraped his way into Harvard. He was a true conservative. He started as a Republican and had never looked back. He was not an opportunist who had switched parties. Douglas had always maintained a belief that less government was better, and that blacks didn't need special help to succeed.

  Douglas's decisions were pretty routine. Since he'd become a judge, he had consistently decided cases on the conservative bent. There were lots of facts on the man, but it did not help Marshall with his problem.

  Marshall checked his watch. It was time to talk to Mbutu. He prayed that he could get something out of him. At this point he was hoping for anything.

* * *

  "Thanks for letting me come by," said Marshall.

  "Get to it," said Mbutu. "I have an article to write for my newsletter."

  "You don't look well," said Marshall.

  "I'm fine," said Mbutu.

  "He's under a lot of stress," said Rashad. "But he's as strong as an ox."

  The two men had both just lied. Marshall saw them exchange quick looks, and Mbutu showed what was unmistakably fear. Marshall decided to press the point.

  "No, you're not," said Marshall. "That's why I'm here, and you know it. This thing has gone far enough, and I'm ending it today."

  "You got your ass kicked today and you can't stand it," said Mbutu. "Go on, spread your lies. See if I care."

  "Be quiet," said Rashad. "He doesn't know anything. He's bluffing."

  Marshall grew excited. He was on to something. Whatever they had been hiding had probably gotten out in prison, and they had no way of knowing who had informed him.

  "If you want my cooperation, I'll need to know just why I should do it."

  "Because you're black!" yelled Mbutu. "I am so tired of you kids getting these jobs, and forgetting about all of us who died so you could have them!"

  "This interview is over," said Rashad.

  "The disease is under control," said Mbutu.

  "What disease?" said Marshall. He smiled at Rashad.

  "Dammit, Daishaya," said Rashad. "Will you ever learn restraint?"

  "Okay," said Marshall. "Now that I know he has a disease, I can make him take a physical to see if he's fit to stand trial. Then all of this will come out in the media. So, are you going to tell me what I want to know or will I publish your illness to all of your followers?"

  "It's a rare, genetic disorder," said Rashad. "We had a doctor come to see him. He'll be fine for a while."

  "You're dying?" said Marshall. "That's why you—" He stopped himself. The word
innocent w
as on his tongue, but he didn't dare say it at this juncture. "Hiding," he said. "That's why you're hiding your illness."