The Perfect Alibi

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

A month after Frank Nylander’s murder, Blaine Hastings Jr. was still a fugitive. Hastings or an unknown burglar were the popular choices for the person who had murdered Frank Nylander, but Rex Kellerman was not satisfied that Hastings had murdered Nylander. His focus had always been on Douglas Armstrong, who still claimed to have no memory of where he was or what had happened on the evening his law partner was killed. Then, just as Nylander’s murder was about to become a cold case, Kellerman received a call with some very interesting news.

“Is this Rex Kellerman?”

“Yes.”

“I’m Greg Nilson with Nilson Forensics. Peter Okonjo told me to call if I got a result on that blood sample he sent me.”

“What blood sample is that?”

“Mr. Okonjo said it was in a murder case. The victim was a Frank Nylander.”

Kellerman sat up. “What did you find?”

“Well, it’s inconclusive, but the DNA might be a match for a man named Douglas Armstrong.”

Now Kellerman was really interested. “Mr. Nilson, I have to be in court in fifteen minutes. Do you have some time later today to talk about this? It’s very important.”

“I’m free after two.”

“That’s perfect. Why don’t I buy you coffee, and you can walk me through what you did?”

Kellerman had suggested meeting at Patty’s Cafe, a locally owned coffeehouse on the outskirts of downtown. Ten minutes after he sat down in a booth in the back, a thin young man with sandy hair walked in. The man halted at the entrance and looked around.

Kellerman raised a hand, and the man walked to the booth. “Thanks for coming, Mr. Nilson.”

“It’s Doctor, actually.”

“Sorry,” Kellerman apologized. “What’s your field?”

“Computer science, but I’ve studied biology and genetics.”

“Impressive. When did you start your company?”

“Seven months ago. I spent a few years in the crime lab in Cleveland, Ohio, and decided to move to Portland to provide forensic services.”

Kellerman sensed that he was hearing a sales pitch. “How’s it going?”

Nilson smiled. “Slow, like most start-ups. That’s why I was excited when Mr. Okonjo called. This gives us a chance to get our name out there.”

Kellerman had done some research on Nilson Forensics and its owner in the time between taking Nilson’s call and coming to this meeting. He knew that Nilson had sunk his life savings into the business and that he was shy on customers to the point where he might have to declare bankruptcy.

“Dr. Nilson, can you explain what your lab does that the Oregon State Crime Lab can’t do? And please remember that I’m an idiot when it comes to science.”

“How much do you know about DNA?”

“It’s come up in other cases, but I’m no expert.”

“Let’s start with the basics: DNA is a molecule containing genetic material that codes for the unique physical characteristics of human beings. DNA is composed of four chemicals called nucleotides, or bases. The shorthand for them are A, C, G, and T. These bases pair together in the following way: A with T, and C with G. These pairs repeat in varying lengths and form rungs on the double helix that constitutes the DNA molecule.

“Now, the double helix is wound very tightly into a chromosome. A gene refers to a sequence of base pairs along a given portion of the DNA double helix which code for a certain trait, like blue eyes. Different genes are located in different places along a chromosome.

“An allele is one of several alternative forms of a gene that occurs in the same position on a specific chromosome. In other words, an allele is a variation in the number of times the base pairs of DNA repeat at a particular location on a particular chromosome. This number of repeats varies among humans. Modern forensic analysis focuses on the number of times the base pairs repeat at a variety of spots along a person’s chromosomes. By measuring and comparing the number of repeats at given locations, an analyst can distinguish one individual from another.”

“Okay, I get that. But what do you do that the crime lab can’t?”

“The normal type of DNA analysis is performed in a laboratory, like the Oregon State Crime Lab,” Nilson said. “DNA is extracted from the evidence, which can be a person’s saliva or a sample of semen or blood. I won’t go into the whole procedure, but you can get a graph of the DNA that can be used for comparison purposes.

“The problem for your crime lab in Mr. Nylander’s case was that the amount of blood found under Nylander’s fingernail was so small that the normal procedures for extracting and analyzing it didn’t work. And that’s where we come in.

“Nilson Forensics has developed a probabilistic genotyping software program. Probabilistic genotyping software uses computer science algorithms to perform complex mathematical and statistical calculations that are designed to calculate likelihood ratios or LRs. LRs reflect the relative probability of a particular finding under alternative theories about its origin. In forensic DNA analysis, the LR can be stated as, ‘The profile is x amount of times more likely if the prosecutor’s hypothesis is true than the defendant’s hypothesis.’ Your hypothesis is that the defendant contributed the sample, and the defendant’s hypothesis is that someone else contributed the sample.”

“So, you make guesses about the probability of the DNA in the blood under Nylander’s fingernail matching the DNA of a particular person?” Kellerman said.

“Exactly.” Nilson beamed like a teacher who has discovered a particularly apt pupil.

“You told me that the DNA in the sample matched Douglas Armstrong’s DNA.”

“Not exactly. There is some indication we have a match, but the probability isn’t high enough for me to make a conclusive statement that the blood came from Mr. Armstrong.”

“That’s too bad,” the prosecutor said. “If you were certain enough to testify that the blood is Armstrong’s, it would give your company a real platform. This case is going to be front-page news. Media coverage is going to be huge.”

Nilson frowned. “Of course, I’d love the publicity, but I can testify only about what the science shows.”

“Certainly, but you said you deal in probabilities, not absolute facts. Is there a chance that a retest would show a different result?”

“I’m not certain what you’re suggesting.”

“I’m not suggesting anything. Like I said, I’m a real dummy when it comes to science. I was just wondering if it would be worth using your software again to see if you can get a more definitive result. My office would compensate you for the extra work, and I’ll certainly spread the word about your business regardless of the outcome of a retest.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Ivar Gorski parked a block away from the Vosses’ house and got a tire iron and a can filled with accelerant out of the trunk. The lights in the Voss home had gone out shortly after eleven, but Gorski waited until two in the morning to go along the side of the house to the back door. There were no lights on in the houses on either side of Voss’s house, but Gorski didn’t believe in talking chances, so he was wearing dark clothing and a ski mask in case a nosy neighbor got up to go to the bathroom and happened to peek out a window.

Opening the lock on the back door was child’s play. The door opened into a small kitchen. Gorski waited so his eyes could adapt to the dark interior. When he was ready, he walked down the hall to Leonard Voss’s bedroom.

An officer moved the sawhorses that blocked the street to rubberneckers, and Carrie Anders parked her car behind an ambulance that had pulled up in front of a one-story bungalow. Roger Dillon got out of the passenger side, and the detectives walked over to Miguel Montoya, the first officer on the scene. Montoya was waiting for them on the narrow front lawn.

“What happened?” Anders asked.

Montoya shook his head. “It’s not pretty. The neighbor heard screams a little after two A.M. on Saturday. Then she saw the flames and called 911. The fire department reacted very quickly and saved the house. They found Mrs. Voss in the hall in front of her husband’s bedroom. Someone bashed her head in.”

“Do you have the murder weapon?”

“No.”

“Go on.”

“The husband is in his bedroom. He’s a stroke victim, and he and Mrs. Voss sleep in different rooms. His face was beaten to pulp.”

“How did the killer get in?” Dillon asked.

“The back door opens into the kitchen. It was jimmied.”

“Let’s go inside,” Anders said.

They found Rita Voss sprawled on her stomach. The detectives studied the body before edging around it and going into Leonard Voss’s bedroom.

“Jesus,” Dillon said when he saw the damage to Voss’s face.

After a few moments, Anders and Dillon went into the hall to let the lab techs do their work.

“I’m guessing the killer went after Mr. Voss first,” Dillon said. “Mrs. Voss hears screams and comes out of her bedroom. The killer chases her down the hall, and bang—” Dillon imitated someone raising a club overhead and smashing it down.

“Seems right,” Anders said.

“Then the killer starts the fire to destroy evidence.”

Anders nodded. “Any sign of a burglary?”

“Mrs. Voss’s purse was open. There was no cash in her wallet,” Montoya said. “There’s a jewelry box on her dresser, and it’s open and empty.”

“Okay,” Dillon said. “Let’s talk to the neighbors and see whether anyone saw anything.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Rex Kellerman loved to tell anyone who would listen about the brilliant flash of insight that led to the solution of Frank Nylander’s murder. He thought it was a great story, especially given the fact that Agatha Christie, the Queen of the Mystery Novel, had given him a clue that helped solve the case.

A week after meeting with Greg Nilson, Kellerman received a report from Nilson Forensics that concluded that there was a high probability that the DNA in the blood sample found under Frank Nylander’s fingernail matched the DNA of Douglas Armstrong. And that was when Kellerman remembered the mystery novels in the bookcase in Douglas Armstrong’s law office. There had been a lot of Agatha Christies in the bookcase, and there had also been a biography of Dame Agatha.

Kellerman had never been much of a reader. When he did read a book, it was usually a military history. But he remembered something he’d heard or read about Agatha Christie. He did a web search for her on his computer, and his smile grew even wider when he read Christie’s biography. As soon as he finished, Kellerman ran down the hall to the office of his boss, Multnomah County District Attorney Paul Getty.

Getty was balding and had a sallow complexion. A heart condition brought on by the stress of his job made him look ten years older than his sixty-two years and had led to his decision to retire before the next election.

“He’s faking!” Kellerman said as soon as he was admitted to Getty’s office.

“Who’s faking?” Getty asked as Kellerman dropped into a seat across from him.

“Armstrong,” Kellerman said, leaning forward in his chair and fixing Getty with a diabolical grin. “The son of a bitch killed his partner.”

“Slow down, Rex. If I recall correctly, you’re the only one who’s pushing that theory.”

Kellerman flashed a satisfied smile. “I’ve got proof.” Kellerman told his boss about the result of the low-template DNA analysis of the blood found under Nylander’s fingernail.

“What kind of method is that?” Getty asked. “I’ve never heard of it.”

“It’s cutting-edge stuff, Paul.”

“Can you even get the results into evidence?”

“Sure, no problem,” Kellerman said with more confidence than he actually felt. “And there’s something else,” Kellerman said in an effort to divert Getty’s attention from the scientific evidence. “Armstrong is still claiming he can’t remember anything about what happened on the day of the murder and the week following. Well, I think he’s full of shit.”

“And why is that?”

“He’s a big fan of Agatha Christie. He’s even got some of her mystery novels in his office. And,” Kellerman said, pausing for dramatic effect, “he also has a biography of Christie on his office bookshelf.”

“So?” asked Getty, who looked genuinely puzzled.

“Christie’s maiden name was Miller. She married Archibald Christie in 1914. In late 1926, Archie asked Agatha for a divorce because he was in love with another woman. On December 3, 1926, the Christies quarreled and Archie left the house. That same evening, Christie disappeared from her home. Her car was later found on the edge of a chalk quarry along with an expired driver’s license and clothes.”

“I’m still not following you, Rex.”

“Christie’s disappearance was big news, Paul. Rewards were offered for information, over a thousand police officers, fifteen thousand volunteers, and several airplanes searched for her. Arthur Conan Doyle even consulted a medium.

“Then, ten days later, Christie was found at the Swan Hydropathic Hotel registered as Mrs. Teresa Neele, the surname of Nancy Neele, her husband’s lover. Christie never gave an explanation for the missing days, and two doctors diagnosed her as suffering from amnesia.”

“You’ve lost me,” the DA said.

“I think Armstrong killed his partner. Then he remembered Christie’s disappearance and decided to fake his own disappearance and claim amnesia like Christie did.”

“Well, Rex, that’s, uhm, interesting, and a very creative theory, but I don’t see where that gives you probable cause.”

“What about the DNA? It’s Armstrong’s blood under Nylander’s fingernail. They fought, Paul. Armstrong killed Nylander during the struggle. That’s why he ran away. He panicked and ran. Then he faked amnesia to cover up his crime.”

“The DNA is interesting.”

“You learned about Occam’s razor in college, right?”

“Sure. In a complex situation, the simplest explanation is probably the right solution.”

“Exactly. Armstrong and Nylander were alone in the office during the time span the ME set out as the parameters for the murder. There’s no evidence anyone else was in the office after the receptionist left. All the employees were at a party, and they can alibi each other. But Armstrong has no alibi for the time of the murder.”

“What about a motive? As I recall, everyone says that Nylander and Armstrong were the best of friends, and Armstrong repeatedly told people that he owed everything to Nylander. Hell, Rex, I know Doug, and I’ve seen him and Frank together at parties and bar functions. I’ve never heard a word about any animosity between the two of them.”

“Even good friends fall out.”

“If they have a reason. According to the receptionist, Armstrong was in a great mood when he came back from Seattle. What made him turn into a homicidal maniac moments later?”

“I don’t know. But something happened. Think, Paul. Armstrong’s blood is under Nylander’s fingernail, and Armstrong had injuries to his face when he was brought to the hospital. That’s proof they fought.”

“Or that Doug was attacked by the same person who killed Frank. Doug Armstrong is an influential member of the bar and most probably a victim of the same person who murdered his partner. I’ve got to see more before I let you go after him.”

“Don’t get hung up on motive, Paul. We don’t have to prove motive to get a conviction. There’s not a scintilla of evidence that anyone but Armstrong and Nylander were in that office when Nylander was murdered. It’s Armstrong, Paul, I know it. Once he’s under arrest, I’ll get his motive out of him. Let me go to a grand jury with this. Let’s see what they say once they hear all the evidence.”

The stress of being the Multnomah County district attorney had exhausted Getty and destroyed his health. He was tired and he didn’t have the energy to fight with Kellerman.

“Okay,” Getty said. “Run it by the grand jury. But get someone working on a motive. If you do get an indictment, keep it quiet and don’t make a move before you tell me everything you’ve got.”

Kellerman stood up, anxious to leave before Getty changed his mind. “Thank you, Paul. You’ll see. You won’t regret this.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Robin worked out before going to the courthouse, where she had a short appearance. Robin had the law on her side and had given the judge a brief supporting her position before arguing. The district attorney didn’t support her argument with a single case, so Robin didn’t have to concentrate too hard while the DA droned on. Instead, she passed the time thinking about last night’s lovemaking with Jeff.

Robin didn’t sleep around, and she’d had very few lovers, none of whom were as adventurous as her investigator. Actually, when she thought about it, Jeff was as good an investigator in bed as he was in the field. That thought brought a smile to Robin’s face and a scowl to the DA’s, who was insulted by the idea that her argument was amusing her adversary.

The judge ruled in Robin’s favor. To celebrate her victory, she treated herself to a latte on the way back to her office. When she walked into the reception area at nine thirty, an attractive blond woman stood up.

“Miss Lockwood?” the woman asked.

Robin was certain that she’d seen the woman before, but she couldn’t place her.

“I’m Marsha Armstrong.”

Robin didn’t think she’d ever talked to Marsha, but she remembered seeing her at a few bar functions. “Of course, Doug Armstrong’s wife. Are you here to see me?”

“Yes.” It was obvious that Marsha was upset.

“Come on back,” Robin said.

While Marsha took a seat, Robin shut the door to her office. Doug’s wife sat up straight, her back rigid and her hands tight on her purse like a drowning woman clutching a lifeline.

“How can I help you?” Robin asked as soon as she was seated.

“Doug’s been arrested.”

“What! Why?”

“They’re saying he killed Frank.”

“His partner?”

Marsha nodded. “Doug told me to ask you to come to the jail.” She opened her purse and took out her checkbook. “I don’t know what you charge, but Doug said to pay your retainer.”

“Why don’t we hold off on that until I’ve talked to your husband? When did Doug call you?”

“Around nine. He said that two detectives were waiting for him at his office when he got in.”

“Did he know the detectives?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did he give you any names?”

“No. He just said they were taking him to jail to book him in and to have you come as soon as possible.”

“Okay. I’m going over right now. You give my receptionist your contact information. I’ll call and let you know what’s up when I get back from talking to Doug.”

Robin thought about Doug Armstrong as she walked to the jail. Her general impression was that Doug was a nice guy and a decent lawyer. She had never co-counseled a case with him. She remembered talking to him at a few continuing legal education seminars, but she couldn’t remember the conversations. Robin had watched Doug try Blaine Hastings’s case because she was representing Randi Stark, but she hadn’t talked to him, because the interests of their clients were adverse. It wasn’t fair to judge Doug on the result in the Hastings case, because the facts were so bad and Doug’s client was so awful on the stand.

Robin concluded that she really didn’t know Doug very well, and she knew even less about Frank Nylander, who didn’t handle criminal cases. Robin also realized that she knew very little about Frank Nylander’s murder. She rarely read about other lawyers’ murder cases because she tried murder cases for a living. She did recall scanning an article after Nylander was killed, but all she remembered was that the murder had been committed in Nylander’s law office.

After checking in at the jail reception area, Robin took the elevator to the floor where Doug was being held. A guard let her into the area where attorneys met their clients. While the guard was opening the door to the contact visiting room, Robin studied Armstrong through a wide pane of shatterproof glass that let her see into the room. Doug was wearing an orange, jail-issue jumpsuit that was a size too big for his pudgy body, and he slumped in his chair. When the guard ushered Robin inside, he looked at her with red-rimmed eyes.

“How are you doing?” Robin asked as soon as the guard was gone.

Doug just shook his head. “How could they do this?” he asked, choking up as tears filled his eyes. “Frank was my best friend. How could anyone think I would hurt him, let alone kill him?”

“That’s what I’m going to find out, Doug. But it’s going to be a lot harder to do if you don’t pull yourself together and help me.”

Doug wiped his eyes with his sleeve. “I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologize. I can’t imagine the stress you’re under. But you’ve got to take a deep breath and morph into lawyer mode. You’re a bright guy, and I’m going to need your help if I’m going to get you out of this mess.”

Doug gave Robin a weak smile. “I’ll be okay.”

“Good. Now, who were the detectives who arrested you? Do you know them?”

Doug nodded. “It was Carrie Anders and Roger Dillon.”

“How did they treat you?”

“I was a little surprised. They were very considerate. I don’t think they had their heart in it.”

“What makes you say that?”

“They told me they were sorry they had to arrest me, and they waited until we were in the elevator to cuff me so no one in the office would know I was under arrest. Carrie even asked if the cuffs were too tight.”

Robin frowned. Something was going on, and she made a mental note to talk to the detectives to find out what it was. “Did they tell you the basis for the arrest?” Robin asked.

“Roger said he couldn’t tell me what the evidence was, but he did say that Rex Kellerman had gotten the indictment.”

Doug looked down. “I don’t know what Rex has against me, but for some reason, he doesn’t like me.”

“Rex treats everyone like crap,” Robin said.

“This is something different. He goes out of his way to humiliate me. He alerted the press, and they were waiting outside my building, so everyone who watches the evening news would see me perp-walked to the police car.

“Carrie told me she didn’t know that Rex had done that, and she pulled my coat over my face as soon as she saw the TV cameras.”

“Did Carrie or Roger say anything else?” Robin asked.

Doug nodded. “Yes, they did. They said that I should tell my lawyer to get the reports from the crime lab. Especially the one about the DNA evidence.”

“Interesting.” Robin made a note. “They seemed to be bending over backward to be nice to you.”

“That was my impression.”

“Look, I know you know this, but I’m going to tell you that anything you say to me is confidential and warn you not to talk to anyone, including the other prisoners, Marsha, or anyone in law enforcement. You’re a lawyer and you’ve given this advice to your clients, but now you’re a defendant, and the pressure to unburden yourself—to try to convince others that you’re innocent—is going to be overwhelming.”

Doug smiled. “Don’t worry, Robin. I’m upset, but I do have my wits about me.”

Robin smiled back. “Good. Can you tell me about your relationship with Frank? I’ve known you two for a while, but I don’t know you very well.”

Doug told Robin about his dismal academic record at West Virginia University, his attendance at the law school at Sheffield College in Arkansas, his infatuation with Oregon, and the depression he suffered when his attempts to get a job in Portland failed.

“I’d hit rock bottom, and I was ready to pack it in and go back home. That’s why I was quietly getting drunk on a barstool in the Cascade Tavern when Frank sat down on the stool next to mine. There was a basketball game on the tube and we started talking about it.”

Doug smiled as he remembered that first meeting. “Have you ever met someone and immediately hit it off? After a few minutes, I felt like I’d known Frank my whole life. When he found out I was a lawyer, he told me about opening his own firm and how tough it was to break through financially. But he said things were looking up and he was starting to get some decent clients.

“I told him my tale of woe, and he told me that he had an extra office in his space and could use some help. I told him I wouldn’t be able to pay the rent. Frank said he’d hire me, pay me a small salary, and let me keep a percentage of what I brought in. I had nothing to lose, so I said I’d give it a go. Other than marrying my wives, it was the smartest move I’ve ever made.”

Robin grinned. “Your story sounds like a love affair.”

Doug laughed. “In a way, it has been. We’ve been there for each other at every step of the way for twenty-odd years.”

“So why are you suspected of killing Frank?”

Doug looked completely lost. “The only thing I can think of is that I don’t have an alibi.”

“That can’t be all there is.”

“How much do you know about my case?”

“Other than that Frank was killed in his law office, not much.”

“Then you don’t know that I have amnesia for the week of the murder.”

“What do you mean?”

“I remember going to Seattle to negotiate a settlement in a case, and I remember landing in Portland. I also have a vague memory of talking to Frank in his office about Blaine Hastings being free on bail. But that’s it until I was found by the police wandering around downtown about a week after Frank was killed.”

“You can’t remember anything?”

Doug shook his head. “Believe me, I’ve tried, but there’s nothing there.”

Robin asked Doug to tell her everything he remembered after he was brought to the hospital. Doug told her that he’d remembered his name and recognized Marsha. His house seemed a little strange at first, but he felt comfortable there now. When he returned to his office, he’d studied his cases and recalled details. But he had not recovered any memories of the events surrounding Frank’s murder, with one exception: he thought he might have told Frank that Blaine Hastings had been released on bail.

Robin made a note to talk to an expert on amnesia.

“I think this is enough for now. You’ll be arraigned tomorrow. I’ll set a bail hearing then. I want you out of jail if that’s possible. Get me a list of character witnesses and anything else you think will help convince the judge to set bail. I’ll also get you a copy of the discovery. When you’ve studied it, call me and we’ll brainstorm.”

“I told Marsha to write you a check for your retainer. How much will it be?”

Robin told him, and he said he would be able to pay her.

When they were finished discussing business, Robin reached across the table and laid her hand on top of Doug’s. “You have a very good reputation in the bar. Use your lawyer smarts. I want you thinking like an attorney, not a defendant. Got that?”

“I do. And I appreciate the way you’re treating me.”

Robin smiled. “I’m treating you the way I treat everyone who has been accused of a crime they didn’t commit.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

There was a big smile on Rex Kellerman’s face when he walked down the corridor toward the courtroom of the Honorable Sylvester Greenwood. What better revenge could he have on Marsha Armstrong than to send her husband to death row, where she could watch him languish for years?

Kellerman made the smile disappear as soon as he spotted the reporters waiting outside the courtroom. Death cases should be serious business, and it would be unseemly to appear to be enjoying himself. Kellerman maneuvered his way through the crush while spouting innocuous answers to the shouted questions from the press. Then he walked down the aisle and through the low gate that separated the spectators from the trial participants.

Robin Lockwood was conferring with her client at the defense counsel’s table, and Marsha was sitting behind them. Lockwood had called Rex to let him know she was representing Armstrong, but Kellerman had told the receptionist to say he was unavailable. He was still furious with Lockwood for humiliating him in the Henderson case, and he didn’t want to talk to her. But knowing she was Armstrong’s lawyer had thrilled him because it would give him an opportunity for revenge.

The arraignment went quickly, as they usually did. Armstrong waived a reading of the charges and entered a not guilty plea. Lockwood filed constitutional objections to the death penalty, requests for discovery, and other motions. The judge set a date for a bail hearing and a tentative trial date. It was all over in twenty minutes. Then the guards took Armstrong away, and Kellerman heard Marsha choke up when she told Doug she loved him.

Kellerman left the courtroom quickly and headed for the elevator. As the doors started to close, a slender hand blocked them and Marsha Armstrong stepped into the car. There were tear tracks on her cheeks and she was flushed.

“Why are you doing this?” she demanded.

“Doing what, Marsha?” Kellerman asked innocently.

“Do you hate me so much that you’d kill my husband to get back at me?”

“I don’t hate you and I didn’t do anything. A grand jury heard the evidence against your husband and decided that there was enough of it to indict him for murder. He has a good lawyer. If he’s innocent, he’ll be acquitted.”

“You know he didn’t kill Frank. You’re going after Doug to get back at me for walking out on you.”

“Marsha, we’re two adults. We had a brief fling and you decided to go back to Douglas. That was your choice, and I don’t hold it against you.”

Kellerman stepped out of the car, and the doors closed on Marsha. The prosecutor broke into a wide grin. What a lovely way to end his morning, Rex thought as he walked to the Multnomah County District Attorney’s Office.

Dr. Margo Schatz was waiting for Kellerman in the reception area. Schatz had been a prosecution witness in several of Kellerman’s trials. The psychologist was in her early sixties. Her silver-gray hair fell to her shoulders and framed a pleasant oval face. Soft blue eyes, lips that were quick to smile, and an appealingly plump body gave her a grandmotherly appearance that played well with jurors.

“I hope you haven’t been waiting long,” Kellerman said as they walked to his office.

“I just got here.”

Kellerman closed his office door and motioned Schatz into a seat across the desk from him. “Did you read my memo?” the prosecutor asked.

“I did.”

“Do you think Armstrong is faking amnesia?”

“There’s no way I can answer that question without interviewing him and administering a series of tests.”

“So, you can figure out if a defendant is faking amnesia?”

“It’s possible. Crime-related amnesia is common in cases involving extreme violence. It’s not unusual for perpetrators to fake amnesia to obstruct a police investigation or reduce their responsibility. I’ve seen studies that posit that twenty percent of criminals who claim no recollection of their crimes are feigning their memory loss and other studies that argue that the percentage is higher. One study found that twenty-nine percent of all criminals sentenced to life imprisonment who claimed amnesia at their trials admitted they were faking.”

“How could you figure out if Armstrong is faking?” Kellerman asked.

“Faking amnesia has been linked to increased brain activity in the prefrontal cortex of the brain, and increased pupil dilation.”

“Armstrong’s not going to submit to an MRI or CAT scan or whatever you’d use to see that stuff.”

“Symptom validity testing, or SVT, can also be used as a tool to assess whether people are faking when they claim to have no recollection of crimes they’ve committed.”

“How does that work?”

“SVT asks defendants to answer a number of questions about the details of the crime with which they’re charged. In answering each question, they must choose between two equally plausible answers, one of which is correct and one which is incorrect. If the defendant really has amnesia, the results should be random. In other words, correct and incorrect answers should be selected approximately equally. If the performance is significantly below chance—the incorrect answer is chosen significantly more than the correct answer—this indicates deliberate avoidance of the correct answer. That means the defendant most likely has an intact memory of the crime and is faking his amnesia.”

“So, we can trip up Armstrong if we can get him to take the test!” Kellerman said.

“Not necessarily. Armstrong is a lawyer, so he probably has above-average intelligence and good research skills. If he researched how to fake amnesia, he probably researched the methods you could use to prove he was faking. If he’s read the studies, he would understand the rationale behind SVT and how to game the test by giving random answers.”

“So, you’re saying that there’s no way we can figure out if he really has amnesia.”

“Not if he’s faking and has done his homework.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Robin went back to her office after Doug Armstrong’s arraignment and called Carrie Anders. Anders was reluctant to discuss the Armstrong case, but she finally agreed to talk to Robin that evening at the Log Cabin, a tavern located on a country road, a half mile from the entrance to a state park, where they were not likely to run into anyone who would know them.

At five, Robin picked up some sushi and ate at her desk while working on a case she’d been neglecting. At eight, she turned out the lights. Thirty minutes after she left her office, Robin was sitting in a booth in the dimly lit interior of the Log Cabin.

The meeting was supposed to take place at eight thirty. Robin checked her watch. It was nine. By nine fifteen, Robin decided that Anders was going to be a no-show. She was getting ready to leave when the detective walked in. It was hard for a woman as big as Anders to be incognito, but she was trying her best by wearing jeans, a quilted ski jacket, and a baseball cap that was pulled low on her forehead. Anders stopped in the entrance to adjust her eyes to the dim light. The tavern was only a quarter full, and most of the patrons were regulars who lined the stools at the bar. Anders scanned the rest of the room. Moments later, she was sitting across from Robin.

“Thanks for coming,” Robin said.

“I bet you thought I wouldn’t show.”

“You didn’t seem crazy about talking to me.”

“I’m not.”

“Can I get you a beer as a thank-you?”

“I’m not going to be here long enough to drink it. And before I talk to you, I need you to agree that this meeting never happened?”

Robin nodded.

“Why did you think I’d agree to meet?” Anders asked.

“Doug told me how you and Roger treated him when you made the arrest. He also said you told him you wanted me to check into the DNA test the crime lab conducted. That struck me as a strange way to act if you were convinced Doug was a murderer.”

“I’m not.”

“Why?”

“Can we agree that Rex Kellerman is an unscrupulous asshole?”

“Definitely,” Robin said, using all her willpower to keep her facial muscles from forming a smile.

Anders leaned forward and lowered her voice. “No one but Kellerman thinks your client murdered his partner, and no one can figure out why he’s so intent on convicting Armstrong. The firm’s receptionist left Nylander and Armstrong alone in the office on the evening of the murder—so he could have done it—but no one we talked to can come up with a single reason why your client would kill the person everyone says was his best friend in the whole world. So, there’s opportunity but no motive. And then there’s the DNA.”

“What about it?”

“They scraped a minuscule amount of blood from under Nylander’s fingernails. The lab couldn’t analyze it, because the sample was too small, so Kellerman used a lab I’ve never heard of to analyze it. The report he read to the grand jury concluded it was Armstrong’s blood. But the lab didn’t use a conventional test. They used a test I’ve never heard of that depends on algorithms.”

“So, the DNA test might be flawed?”

“I don’t know anything about the science. Suppressing the results is your job. I just thought you should know that the state’s case is flaky.”

“Who do you have pegged for the killing?” Robin asked.

“There’s a good chance this was a burglary gone bad. If it wasn’t, Blaine Hastings is the obvious choice, but we have no evidence that puts him at the scene of Nylander’s murder.”

“So, there are no solid suspects?”

“No. And it’s time for me to go.”

“I can’t thank you enough for this, Carrie.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve always thought of Armstrong as a pretty solid guy. If he’s guilty, I misjudged him. But this just doesn’t sit right with me.”

Anders left and Robin waited fifteen minutes before going to her car. While she waited, she decided that if she was going to save Doug Armstrong, she had to find out everything she could about the test that had been used to conclude that his blood was under Frank Nylander’s nail.

Jeff was sitting on the couch, watching a football game, when Robin walked in. He smiled and used the remote to pause the game.

“Hi, kid,” he said. “What kept you so late?”

“Doug Armstrong’s case, and I need your help with something odd that’s popped up.”

Jeff patted the sofa. “What do you want me to do?” he asked when Robin was seated next to him.

“There’s plenty of evidence that Doug and Frank Nylander were alone in their law office around the time that the murder occurred, but Doug claims that he has amnesia for the evening of the murder and several days after, so he can’t tell me what happened that night.”

“Do you believe him?”

“I’m sure Rex Kellerman will claim he’s faking. Kellerman called me shortly after the arraignment and wanted Doug to take some tests he claimed would show if he really has amnesia.”

“What did you tell him?”

“What do you think?”

Jeff laughed. “I hope you were diplomatic.”

“My answer was completely in Latin.”

“Good for you. So. Do you think Armstrong is faking?”

“I don’t have the training to give an opinion, but he seems genuinely confused.”

“So what’s this thing you need help with?”

“Doug has injuries that could have come from a fight. One piece of evidence that suggests that the fight was with Nylander is a minute amount of blood that was found under Nylander’s fingernail. The blood sample is too small to be used in a conventional DNA test, so Kellerman submitted the sample to an independent lab that uses some kind of cutting-edge technology, and they concluded that the blood is Doug’s. I need you to find out what that lab did and brief me on how valid the test is. I want to know if I can knock out the DNA evidence pretrial by arguing that it’s not been deemed reliable in the relevant scientific community.”

“Sounds interesting. Give me what you’ve got tomorrow, and I’ll look into it.”

“Will do.” Robin looked at the TV. “Who’s playing?”

“Broncos and Colts, but the game’s a snooze.”

Robin smiled. “Does that mean you don’t want to watch anymore?”

Jeff smiled back. “Why? Can you think of something we could do that would be less boring?”

Robin put her hand on Jeff’s thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“I might,” she said, as she took the remote and switched off the set.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

In the morning, Robin thought about Doug Armstrong’s case as she walked from the gym to her office through a cold, damp drizzle. As soon as she got in, she gave the discovery she’d received from Rex Kellerman to her secretary with instructions to make copies for Jeff.

Moments after her secretary left with the reports, the receptionist told Robin that she had a call.

“My name is Herschel Jacobs,” the caller said in a heavy New York accent. “I’m a homicide detective in Manhattan. Carrie Anders gave me your name. She says you represent Douglas Armstrong.”

“That’s right. What’s your interest in Mr. Armstrong?”

“None, actually. I’m calling because he’s Frank Nylander’s law partner.”

“Was,” Robin corrected. “Mr. Nylander was murdered, and Mr. Armstrong is charged with his murder.”

“Yeah, Detective Anders filled me in on the case.”

“I still don’t get why you’re calling.”

“I’m investigating the murder of Tyler Harrison III, an attorney in a firm with offices on Park Avenue. Mr. Harrison was found in a vacant lot Saturday morning, about five days after he met with Mr. Nylander to negotiate a case.”

“I’m still confused. Mr. Nylander was killed on Tuesday evening, the day he returned from New York. That’s several days before Mr. Harrison was murdered. So why do you want to talk to my client?”

“We’re stuck, Miss Lockwood. The vacant lot is in a part of Manhattan where someone like Mr. Harrison wouldn’t go. It’s high crime rate, drugs, prostitutes. No one in his law firm or his acquaintances or his family can give us any reason why he would be there. And to answer your question before you ask it, no, he didn’t have a drug habit and he was happily married.”

“How about clients? Did anyone he represented live in the neighborhood?”

Jacobs laughed. “Mr. Harrison represented financial institutions and Fortune 500 companies. Aside from one bank with a branch that’s fifteen blocks from the lot, there’s nothing that connects his practice with the area. Our theory is that he was killed someplace else and the killer dumped his body in the lot.”

“I still don’t understand why you’re interested in Mr. Armstrong.”

“I’m talking to everyone who had contact with Harrison the week he was murdered, so I called to talk to Mr. Nylander and I found out he was murdered the same week. I don’t like coincidences.”

“Sometimes a coincidence is just a coincidence.”

“True, but I’d still like to talk to your client to find out about the case Harrison and Nylander were working on and any guesses he can make that might help with Harrison’s murder.”

“I can’t let you talk to Mr. Armstrong, for obvious reasons, but let me make a suggestion. Why don’t you send me a list of questions you’d like him to answer? If he has no objection, I’ll send you his answers.”

“That sounds fair.”

“And I’d like a copy of the Harrison case file so I can advise Mr. Armstrong on how he should proceed.”

“The whole file?”

“You seem like a straight shooter, Detective Jacobs, but I don’t know a thing about you. This could be a trap to get Mr. Armstrong to incriminate himself.”

“He’s not a suspect. We’re just out of ideas, and I’m fishing around, hoping I’ll latch on to something helpful.”

“I believe you, but I find it’s better to be cautious anytime there’s a murder and a homicide detective wants to talk to one of my clients.”

Robin didn’t have any meetings or court appearances, so she decided to go to the jail and tell Doug about the call from New York. She didn’t expect to learn anything interesting, but she thought that Doug would appreciate the break in his deadly dull jail routine.

“I had a call about an hour ago from Herschel Jacobs, a homicide detective from New York.” Robin told her client. “He wants to talk to you.”

Doug tensed. “About what?”

“Don’t worry. It’s about Tyler Harrison, the lawyer Frank met with in Manhattan. He was murdered.”

“What’s that have to do with me?”

“Nothing. The police in New York are stumped. They don’t know who killed Harrison or why he was murdered. They’re just talking to anyone he met with the week he was killed. Jacobs called your office to talk to Frank and found out he was dead. He wants to talk to you about Frank’s case to see if it sheds any light on what happened to Harrison. So, what can you tell me about it?”

“Not much. Frank and I met for dinner once every week to talk about our cases. During dinner, we would discuss problems we were having and talk out solutions. It also helped for us to know about each other’s cases in case one of us got sick or went on vacation.”

“We do something like that in my firm. Did you talk about the case he was negotiating in New York?”

Doug nodded. “Right before he left, but all I remember him saying is that there was a good chance it was going to settle.”

“What do you know about the New York case?”

“It wasn’t really a New York case. We were suing a pharmaceutical company in Connecticut that was represented by a firm in Manhattan. It had something to do with a side effect. I think someone in Oregon had a stroke after using the drug, but that’s all I know. You might want to talk to Ken Norquist, one of our associates. He did some work on the case for Frank.”

“Okay. The detective is sending me the file on Harrison’s murder and questions he’d like you to answer. I’ll review the file and the questions before we talk about it.”

CHAPTER FORTY

The file in the Tyler Harrison murder along with Herschel Jacobs’s questions arrived two days later. Robin went through it while she ate a sandwich at her desk. The body had been found in a vacant lot, and Harrison had been shot in the back of the head. The crime scene and autopsy photos were gruesome, but Robin was used to gore and she had no trouble eating her lunch while she viewed them.

Interviews with members of Harrison’s law firm, his friends, and his family had yielded no clues. Harrison was well liked in the firm and at his clubs. The fifty-eight-year-old attorney had been married for more than twenty years. He appeared to have loved his wife, and everyone said that he doted on his two children.

Harrison’s wife had consented to a search of the victim’s home office, and the firm had permitted a search of his law office—but the searches had yielded no clues. Robin studied the photographs of both offices and found them neat and well ordered, decorated with the college and law school diplomas and family pictures she would expect to find. She concluded that Harrison was a man who abhorred a mess and who liked to dot every i and cross every t—excellent traits for someone who dealt with contracts and corporate business.

One of Jacobs’s interviews was with Marvin Turnbull, an executive at Norcross Pharmaceuticals. He told the detective that Harrison was defending a lawsuit filed by Leonard Voss, Frank Nylander’s client. Harrison had called Nylander and asked him to come to New York to discuss settling the lawsuit.

After finishing with the file and going over Jacobs’s questions, Robin walked across town to the offices of Nylander & Armstrong. The receptionist had been subdued when she used the intercom to tell Ken Norquist that Robin had arrived. Robin glanced in the offices she passed on the way to the conference room. The lawyers who glanced at her when she walked by looked grim.

Norquist was seated at a long conference table. Several folders and three-ring binders were stacked on it. The associate got up when Robin walked in. His handshake was limp and he looked depressed.

“Thanks for meeting with me,” Robin said. “This has got to be awful for you.”

Norquist flashed a humorless smile. “That’s the understatement of the century.”

“How is everyone in the firm holding up?”

“Not well. One associate left already and a few are looking around.”

“What about you?” Robin asked.

“I can’t believe Doug would kill Frank. You know better than I what his chances are, but I have to believe he’ll be acquitted.”

“So, you’re staying?”

“Yeah. We’ve lost several clients, but enough are sticking with us so we can keep the firm afloat until Doug is back. Of course, if he goes to prison…”

“Let’s hope he doesn’t. So, Doug said that you worked with Mr. Nylander on the case he went to New York to negotiate?”

“I did.”

“Can you fill me in?”

“The suit was against Norcross Pharmaceuticals.”

“Why did you use the past tense?”

“Leonard Voss, our plaintiff, died recently. He and his wife were murdered during a burglary and they don’t have any living relatives, so the suit is as dead as they are. That’s a big hit for our firm.”

“How so?”

“Norcross Pharmaceuticals manufactures an anticholesterol drug Voss was taking when he had a stroke. It hasn’t been on the market long. Voss had a preexisting heart condition, but the claim is that the drug caused the stroke. There have been a few other cardiac problems and even one death by users of the drug, but Norcross’s position is that the medical problems have been a coincidence and not the result of using their product.”

“I understand that Mr. Nylander went to New York to try to settle the case.”

Norquist nodded. “Mr. Harrison told him that a settlement might be possible. Frank thought that Norcross didn’t want to litigate because of the bad publicity.”

“Did they resolve the case?”

“I don’t know. Mr. Nylander was killed shortly after he returned from New York. The only person who could have talked to him after he got back is Doug, and he said that he doesn’t remember anything that happened on the evening Frank was murdered.”

“Was the drug responsible for your client’s stroke?” Robin asked.

“It’s not clear. Our expert says yes, but there are other experts we talked to who told us they couldn’t say for sure. In court, it would be a battle of the experts, and no one knows how that would come out. That’s why Frank thought the case would settle, and the settlement would have been big. We’re talking several million dollars. Our expert’s opinion was in the minority, so Frank was playing poker with Harrison and Norcross, counting on them to want to avoid publicity enough to settle, even when the product might be okay.”

“Can you think of any reason connected to this case that could account for Mr. Harrison or Mr. Nylander being murdered?”

“Norcross is relatively new, and this is their first big product. The company would take a big hit if a jury found that they were manufacturing a killer drug.”

“Are you saying that you think Norcross may have been involved in a murder?” Robin asked.

“No, no. You just asked if I could think of a theory. Look, do you need me here? I’ve got a lot to do in our other cases, especially now that Frank and Doug…”

“I understand. I’ll call you if I need you. And hang in there. I’ve just started representing Doug, but my gut tells me he’s innocent. Hopefully, I can get him back to work soon.”

Robin spent an hour going through the files Norquist had provided, but she didn’t see anything that would help Doug. Still, on the way back to her office, Robin couldn’t help thinking about her conversation with Detective Jacobs. He’d said that Harrison and Nylander being murdered so close together had raised a red flag, and Robin remembered responding that sometimes a coincidence was just a coincidence.

Voss, Nylander, and Harrison had all died violently within a short time, and Leonard Voss’s death had ended his suit and may have saved Norcross Pharmaceuticals millions. She could see why the company would want Voss and Nylander dead, but Tyler Harrison was Norcross’s attorney. Why would the company want to kill him? Robin couldn’t come up with a single theory that would connect all three murders. By the time she arrived at her office, she decided that it didn’t matter who killed Voss and Harrison, since she couldn’t think of any theory that would help Douglas Armstrong.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Robin had just returned from her meeting with Ken Norquist when Jeff walked into her office. She smiled.

“You interested in Thai, tonight? I’m treating,” Jeff asked, as he dropped into a seat across from Robin.

“Sounds good”

“I’ve got interesting news on that DNA thing,” Jeff continued.

“What did you find out?”

“You know that expert witnesses in an area of science are permitted to give opinion evidence only when their testimony is based on a scientific principle or discovery that has passed the experimental stage.”

“Sure. The side that wants the jury to hear the evidence has to convince the judge that the science behind the evidence has been generally accepted as valid in the relevant scientific community.”

Jeff nodded. “That’s so junk science, like astrology, can’t be used in court. Now, Oregon courts have long held that it’s okay to admit DNA evidence in a trial when it’s obtained in a lab, but no Oregon court has ruled on the admissibility of DNA evidence that uses mathematical probability to match a sample to a defendant.”

“Do you think we’ve got a chance to knock out Rex’s DNA match?”

“Probably not. Unfortunately for Armstrong, other courts have let a jury hear it.”

“Are we dead?”

“There is an argument you can make. I just don’t know if it will win.”

“Explain it to me.”

“There are courts in several states that have accepted conclusions based on analysis by probabilistic genotyping software. These courts have held that forensic biologists accept the method’s validity. You can argue that this is not the scientific community in which the decision should be made. The method uses software, so the relevant community should be the computer science community, because it is inappropriate for forensic biologists with no or little training in software development or engineering to decide if the software works.”

“Have you found an expert who can make our case for us in a hearing?”

“Yeah. There’s a guy I know at Reed College. He needs to look at the source code for the software to see if it’s been rigorously tested, validated, or verified using current software engineering practices. If it hasn’t been, we can move to exclude the evidence. But I think it’s a long shot given the number of courts that have accepted the use of the method.”

“You said you had interesting information. What you’ve said would be interesting if I were prosecuting Doug.”

“Sorry. There is something else. Nilson Forensics is the lab that did the analysis. The report Kellerman gave you in discovery was one page and didn’t include any of the raw data about the tests Nilson conducted. I called the lab and spoke to Dr. Nilson. He sounded very nervous, and he told me he couldn’t talk about the test without Kellerman’s permission. I told him he didn’t need the DA’s permission, but he still refused to talk to me. So, I drove over to the lab to see if my incredible charm would melt his resistance.”

“Did it?”

“His secretary told him I was in the waiting room, and he came out. I told him I wanted to see the raw data and the source code for the software. He refused. He said the source code is a trade secret.” Jeff paused for emphasis. “Robin, he sounded scared.”

“Can you think of any reason why he should be?”

“Maybe there’s something about the test he doesn’t want us to know.”

“I’m going to move for discovery of the source code and the raw data that was used to determine that the blood under Nylander’s fingernails was Doug’s. Once we get it, we can try to see if there’s a reason Dr. Nilson is scared.”

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

Robin was shocked by Marsha Armstrong’s appearance when Doug’s wife walked into her office. Marsha’s eyes were red from crying, she’d lost weight, and it looked like she’d thrown on her clothes without any thought as to how they would look.

“Why are you here, Marsha?” Robin asked, not trying to hide her concern.

“I was just at the jail. Doug told me that they’re going to say that the blood under Frank’s fingernails is his. How bad is that for Doug’s case?”

“It doesn’t kill us. I may have a witness who will testify that there are flaws in the method that was used to make the match. I can argue to the jury that the results are unreliable.”

“But the district attorney will argue they’re not, and the jury might believe Doug was in a fight with Frank?”

“That’s possible.”

“And Doug won’t be able to say anything, because he has amnesia.”

“Yes.”

Marsha looked at her lap. When she spoke, Robin had a hard time hearing what she said, and she asked her to repeat it. Marsha looked up. There were tears in her eyes. “I did something terrible,” she said. “It’s why Rex Kellerman is trying to send Doug to prison.”

Robin was confused. “I don’t understand.”

“I cheated on Doug with Rex.”

“You what!?”

“I miscarried and I was depressed and Rex acted like he cared, but he didn’t.”

“Slow down and tell me what happened,” Robin said.

Marsha told Robin about her miscarriage, her depression, and her brief affair with Doug’s prosecutor.

“When I came to my senses, I realized that I’d made a big mistake and I broke it off. Rex didn’t take it well. He was really angry, and I think he’s going after Doug to get even with me.”

“Jesus. Why did you wait to tell this to me?”

“I couldn’t before. I thought this was all a mistake and you’d get Doug out and he wouldn’t have to know. Even after he was denied bail, I kept fooling myself because I couldn’t bear to hurt Doug. And I know this could kill him. But now he might really die and… Will this help? Can you use it against Rex?”

“I’m going to have to think about what you’ve told me. One thing is certain: Rex Kellerman has a big fat conflict of interest. The question is how to exploit it.”

“You’re kidding!” Jeff said.

They were in his office with the door closed, and Robin had just finished telling him about Marsha’s affair.

“Interesting, huh?”

“Did you take a class in understatement at Yale?”

“What do you think I should do?”

“If Marsha isn’t making this up to help Doug…”

“I don’t think she is. You should have seen her. She was in tears and she looked awful.”

Jeff grinned. “Rex is definitely fucked whether Doug is guilty or innocent.”

Robin nodded. “This screams prosecutorial misconduct. No one but Rex was pushing the theory that Doug killed Nylander.”

“Get me photos of Marsha and Rex,” Jeff said. “I’ll go to the hotel in Vancouver.”

“If you can find evidence to back up Marsha’s claim, I’ll move to have the case dismissed.”

Jeff shook his head. “Don’t go to the judge. Set up a meeting with Paul Getty. If you work this out privately, Getty can say they’ve reevaluated the DNA evidence or give some other excuse for dismissing. That way Marsha can decide whether she wants to tell Armstrong about her affair and Paul can save face by dismissing without embarrassing his office.”

“And if they don’t dismiss?”

“Then you have no choice. You’ll have to go before a judge and move for dismissal on grounds of prosecutorial misconduct. But if I know Getty, he’ll want this settled quietly.”

“I think you’re right. But before I go to Getty, there’s one other thing we need to do.”

Robin and Jeff were waiting in the parking lot at Nilson Forensics when Greg Nilson walked to his car.

“Dr. Nilson?” Robin asked.

Nilson stopped and looked at Robin, then Jeff. “I’m Dr. Nilson.”

Robin held out her business card. “My name is Robin Lockwood, and I represent Douglas Armstrong. I believe you’ve met my investigator, Jeff Hodges. We’d like to talk to you about a DNA test your lab conducted.”

Nilson looked nervous. “I told Mr. Hodges that I wouldn’t discuss the test without the district attorney’s permission.”

“When you say the DA, do you mean Rex Kellerman?”

“Yes.”

“Well, Mr. Kellerman is going to be in a world of hurt very soon, and anyone who did anything even mildly dicey in Mr. Armstrong’s case is going to be in big trouble, too. Do you fit into that category?”

“What… what do you mean?”

“I can’t go into details, but Mr. Kellerman violated a number of ethical rules, and the odds are that Mr. Armstrong’s case will be dismissed. When Jeff tried to talk to you, you refused and he got the distinct impression that you were scared. Why would that be if you had nothing to hide?”

“Look, I don’t want any trouble.”

“Then you better come clean about what you did,” Robin said.

“What would happen if I told you about the test and you thought I’d done something I shouldn’t have done?”

“You’re not under oath right now, Dr. Nilson. But you will be if I start filing motions. If you lie under oath, that’s perjury and you could go to jail. If you’re honest with me, I will try to protect you if I can without hurting my client. Now, what did you do?”

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

Rex Kellerman was in a great mood when he walked down the hall to Paul Getty’s office. The day before, he had won a motion to suppress in a high-profile case. He guessed that Paul wanted to congratulate him in person for his coup.

Kellerman’s mood changed from elation to confusion when he saw Robin Lockwood sitting across from his boss. Then he smiled. Maybe Lockwood was here to work out a plea in Armstrong.

“Close the door and have a seat, Rex,” Getty said. He didn’t sound happy.

“What’s up?” Rex asked.

“Miss Lockwood has just given me some deeply troubling information,” Getty answered.

Rex glanced at Lockwood. She looked grim. Rex frowned. “What did she say?”

Getty nodded at Robin.

She turned so she could look Kellerman in the eye. “Doug Armstrong’s wife came to my office two days ago. She told me that you met her at a hotel in Vancouver, Washington, on four occasions. According to Mrs. Armstrong, the second and third time, you had sexual relations, and the fourth time you met, she broke off the relationship.”

Kellerman looked stunned, but he recovered his composure quickly. “That’s ridiculous.”

Getty handed Kellerman several documents. “This is a sworn affidavit from a desk clerk at the hotel who identified you and Mrs. Armstrong from photographs Robin’s investigator showed him. The other documents are copies of the hotel register signed by Mrs. Armstrong.”

Rex kept his eyes on the paperwork so he wouldn’t have to look at Robin or his boss.

“Well?” Getty asked when enough time had passed without a response.

“I…” Kellerman ran his tongue over his lips. “This is a setup, Paul. I mean, maybe Armstrong’s wife was having an affair with someone at the hotel, but it wasn’t me.”

Getty handed more paperwork to Kellerman. “I sent a detective to the hotel,” the DA said. “The clerk made another positive identification of you. He also gave us credit card receipts signed by you. Lying is just going to make this worse.”

Kellerman was dizzy, and he felt like he might throw up. “Okay, yeah, we had a brief affair, but it was before Armstrong murdered his partner.”

“Rex, you’re a smart guy,” Getty said. “Don’t tell me you didn’t understand that you had one hell of a conflict. Mrs. Armstrong thinks you’re prosecuting her husband to get even with her for breaking off the affair.”

“No, no. He did it. That’s why I’m after Armstrong.”

“We had a talk in this office before you went to the grand jury. I told you that I was dubious about Armstrong’s involvement and so is everyone else who’s had any part of this case. I think what Robin told me explains why you were so enthusiastic about indicting Doug.”

“I know how this looks,” Kellerman pleaded, “but Armstrong is guilty. I knew I might have a conflict, but no one else was willing to go after him. I couldn’t let him get away with murder. He was alone with Nylander. Armstrong’s blood is under Nylander’s fingernails.”

“The DNA evidence presents another problem,” Getty said. “Robin spoke to Dr. Nilson, who runs the lab that conducted the DNA test you say supports your theory. He told her that you were informed that his initial test of the blood sample was inconclusive and that you offered him several incentives for him to retest it. Did you share the results of the first test with the defense?”

“No. I didn’t think it was necessary. The retest showed it was Armstrong’s blood.”

Getty was starting to look angry. “You do know that the United States Supreme Court has ruled that prosecutors have to give any exculpatory evidence to the defense?”

“Yes, but the first test wasn’t exculpatory. It was inconclusive.”

“I’m not even going to respond to that ridiculous argument,” Getty said. “But I am going to ask you if you offered a bribe in the form of extra payments and a chance for Nilson to get publicity for his company in exchange for a positive test?”

“No, never. I don’t know what Nilson told you. I just asked him to retest the sample. I couldn’t expect him to do it for free. And his company is new. I just let him know that the press would be covering the case and if he got a positive result and testified in court about it, people would learn about Nilson Forensics. But I never told him to fake a result.”

Getty was shaking his head, and Kellerman stopped when he realized his boss’s mind was set.

“I’m taking this case away from you,” Getty said, “and I’m going to dismiss it with prejudice. That’s the deal I’ve made with Robin in exchange for a promise by her to keep the reason for the dismissal between us.

“I’ll go to Judge Greenwood in chambers and say we’ve reevaluated the evidence. That way the real reasons for the dismissal won’t come out. I’m doing it this way to protect Mrs. Armstrong’s reputation. Is that acceptable to you, Robin?”

“Yes. If Mrs. Armstrong wants to tell Doug what she’s done, it will be her decision. My impression is that she greatly regrets the affair.” Robin turned to Kellerman. “I don’t trust you, Rex, so I’m warning you. If your affair with Mrs. Armstrong becomes public, I will have you disbarred.”

“Okay, Robin,” Getty said. “I think Rex gets the point. Now I’d like you to leave us. I have a few more things I want to discuss with Rex. I’ll let you know when Mr. Armstrong can go home. I’ll try to dismiss soon.”

When they were alone, Getty looked at Kellerman. “I’m also keeping the reason for dismissal quiet so you can resign from your position without anyone knowing why you left.”

“You’re firing me?” Kellerman asked in disbelief.

“I don’t see how I can keep you on after this. You’re a good lawyer, Rex. You’ll probably be able to get a job with a firm if no one learns why you quit. I wish you the best, but I can’t have you on my staff anymore.”

“Come on, Paul. It was one slipup.”

“That’s not true. Judge Wright met with me after the conclusion of the Henderson case and told me how you lied about your rebuttal witness. He wanted to file a bar complaint, but I talked him out of it. That was a mistake on my part. If you’d been forced to answer that complaint, maybe you would have understood that there are consequences if you violate your oath as an officer of the Court.”

“Armstrong is a killer, Paul. Our job is to protect the public by putting killers where they can’t hurt the citizens of Oregon.”

Getty looked sad. “You don’t get it, do you, so let me put this in plain English: You fucked Doug Armstrong’s wife. By keeping that fact secret, you’ve forced me to dismiss his case with prejudice. That means he can never be prosecuted for Nylander’s murder. So, if he is guilty, you also fucked the people of Oregon.

“You should have taken yourself off the case immediately and you should have told me about the affair immediately. I’m not even going to get into the DNA evidence. You’ve left me no choice. There’s no way I can justify keeping you on my staff after what you’ve done.”

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

Robin and Marsha were waiting for Doug in the jail reception area. As soon as he walked out of the elevator, Marsha ran to him and threw herself into his arms. Robin waited while the couple had their moment.

When they broke their embrace, Doug saw Robin. He put his arm around Marsha’s shoulders and the couple walked over. They were both smiling.

“I don’t even know how to begin to thank you. You’ve been extraordinary.”

“I just did my job, Doug.”

“How did you get Paul Getty to dismiss my case with prejudice?”

“I had a lot of help from Rex Kellerman. The DNA test of the blood sample under Frank’s fingernail was the only concrete evidence Rex had. The test results he gave to me said there was a match between your DNA and the DNA extracted from the blood. But there was a test that was conducted before the test results Rex gave us in discovery. That first test came out inconclusive.

“As you know, a prosecutor is required to give the defense any evidence that supports an argument that the defendant is innocent, but Rex didn’t do that. When he didn’t like the result, Rex bribed Dr. Nilson, the head of the lab, to do a retest. Dr. Nilson shaded the results to come out with a positive match.

“When I confronted Dr. Nilson, he confessed to screwing around with his calculations so the test came out positive. When Paul heard what Rex had done, he was very upset.”

Doug’s face flushed with anger. “That little prick. I’m going to see that Kellerman is disbarred.”

Robin put a hand on Doug’s forearm. “I think we should talk about what you should do when you’ve had some time to think. Getty has given Rex his walking papers. He also made Rex promise that he wouldn’t run for Multnomah County DA.”

“What about my reputation? Everyone is going to think I killed Frank and got off on a technicality.”

“I thought of that. Paul has agreed to hold a press conference. He’s going to apologize to you publicly, and he’s going to tell everyone that there is no evidence that you killed Frank.”

“Getting fired isn’t enough punishment for what Kellerman did to me.”

“Agreed, but getting your life back on track and putting this behind you might be better for your peace of mind than seeking revenge.” Robin squeezed Doug’s forearm. “You hired me so I could give you objective, unemotional advice, and that’s what I’m doing. Go home, take a shower, eat a good meal, and get a decent night’s sleep. Then call me. We’ll talk about what to do with Kellerman when you’re calmer.”

Doug sighed and the tension left him. “You’re a really good lawyer, Robin. I’m going to follow your advice. Especially the part about the shower and the decent meal. The food in this place is awful.”

Robin laughed. Marsha hugged her. Then Marsha and Doug walked out of the jail, into the sunlight. Robin headed back to her office, praying that she could head off Doug before he did something that would force Rex to reveal his affair with Marsha.

Freeing an innocent man from prison was the greatest reward a criminal defense attorney could receive, but freeing Doug and saving his marriage were something she was going to work hard to achieve.