The Burning Man

C61 guess he did."

"He had no idea who they were?"

Downes scanned the page, then agreed.

"He did not say the man was killing the woman?"

"No.

"Not until you started this business about the subconscious mind."

Downes did not answer.

"In fact, it took you a long time to convince Gary that he had seen Sandra Whiley in the park."

"I didn't convince him of anything. "Oh, didn't you? Look at number five. What is Mr. Harmon's response when you tell him "There's a good chance that you saw Sandy and her killer when you walked by Wishing Well Park'?"

Downes scanned the page until he found the question and answer.

"He said, "All I see is them two hugging,"' Downes answered reluctantly.

"And at nine, when you tell him to relax and let it come, doesn't Mr. Harmon tell you, "It's no good, I didn't see anything new'?"

"Yes."

",Amd at ten, what does Mr. Harmon tell you when you ask, "Is it Sandy?"?"He says, "I can't say for sure."

"That's right. Now, you had Mr. Harmon believing he was some kind of detective, didn't you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Look again at ten. I'm quoting. "You know, Gary, you might be a natural at this stuff." And Gary says, "I just want to get this guy." He thinks he's helping the police, doesn't he?"

"Or foolig the police."

"He figured that out with an IQ of sixty-five?"

"Objection," O'Shay said. "Sergeant Downes has no way of knowing what was going on in the defendant 2s head during this interview."

"Sustained," Judge Kuffel said.

"Very well, Your Honor," Peter answered. "Sergeant Downes, isn't it true that you told Mr. Harmon to guess at what happened in the park?"

"They were pretty good guesses. "Oh, really? Like the guesses about where the blows fell on Miss Whiley's head?"

"That was accurate."

"It was?"

"Yes, sit. He described right where the wounds were."

"Let's look at twenty-two. Read that to the jury, if you please, starting at line thirteen."

"I said, "Let it flow, Gary. First hit. Where was it?" and he said, "Top of the head,' which is where the first hit was."

"Go on."

"I said, "This is great. Then what?" and he started swinging his arm and said, "Another to the right side.

And another."

"

"Sto there, Sergeant. You are aware, are you not, p that Dr. Guisti testified that the killer struck his blows to the left side of Miss Whiley's head?"

"Yes, but..

"Yes or no?"

"Yes Peter did not let the jury see how elated he felt. If he could convince the jurors that Downes had taken advantage of Gary's low intelligence to trick him, he would destroy a major part of the state's case.

"When you questioned Mr. Harmon, did he appear sleepy to you?"

"We were both tired by the end."

"How long did the interrogation last?"

"About seven hours from the time we got him to the station house."

"So, there are two hours of interrogation that are not on the tape?"

"Yes.

"It was during that part of the interrogation that you had Officer Robert Patrick play a little trick on Mr. Harmon, wasn't it?"

"I don't understand the question."

"What is a black light, Sergeant?"

Downes colored. "A, uh, black light is like a flashlight, but it shoots out an ultraviolet light beam."

"Did you have Officer Patrick dust a Coke can with an invisible powder that shows up orange under ultraviolet light?"

"Yes."

"After Gary handled the can, did Officer Patrick, on your orders, shine the black light on Gary's hands?"

"Yes," Downes answered uncomfortably.

"Did officer Patrick then tell this young man, who has an IQ of sixty-five, that the orange splotches on his hands were the blood of Sandra Whiley?"

Yes.

"That was a lie, wasn't it?"

Downes looked as if he was going to say something else at first, but ended by simply agreeing.

"Where did you learn your 'projection transfer' technique, Sergeant?"

"Nowhere," Downes answered proudly. "I made it UP."

"Made it up?" Peter responded incredulously.

"Yes, sir."

"Are you aware that the technique you used on Mr. is Harmon i identical to the technique used by hypnotists to in duce a trance?"

"Objection," O'Shay said. "That question assumes facts that are not in evidence."

"We intend to offer such evidence, Your Honor," Peter told the judge.

"Very well. With that assurance, I will order the witness to answer."

"I don't know what technique a hypnotist would use, Mr. Hale."

"Whether you knew or not, isn't it true that you led Mr. Harmon to give those answers that you wanted to hear?"

"No, sir. That's not true."

"Look at Marker seventeen. Don't you suggest that the man and woman Mr. Harmon said he saw kissing in the park might be doing something other than kissing, despite the fact that Mr. Harmon told you several times that was the activity in which they were involved?"

suggested that they would not have been kissing if the couple was Whiley and her killer."

"Thus planting that suggestion in a mind susceptible LEM to suggestion both because of Mr. Harmon's fatigue and IQ."

"Objection," O'Shay said. "Mr. Hate is making a speech."

ASJ "Sustained. Save the oratory for closing, Mr. Hale."

"Sergeant Downes, did you not lead Mr. Harmon to say that the man he saw in the park was holding a weapon after Mr. Harmon repeatedly told you that he had not seen a weapon in the man's hand?"

"Gary brought up the hatchet."

"Look at marker twenty-nine. Read the top few lines on that page, please."

"I ask, "Did you see anything shiny, Gary? It would probably have been right then. In that split second." And he says, "Shiny?" and I say ..

"Stop there. You were the first person to mention the word 'shiny,' weren't you?"

"Yes," Downes said, after a moment's hesitation.

"And it is you who mentioned that the weapon wou probably be in the killer's right hand?"

Downes read the page, stopping to reread one sentence.

"I ... I may have mentioned that first."

"You put those words in Mr. Harmon's mouth."

"No, sir. I just asked the questions and he supplied the answers."

"Only some of them were your answers, weren't they?

"Nothing further, Your Honor," Peter said before O'Shay could object.

"I only have a few questions on redirect, Sergeant."

The deputy district attorney sounded undisturbed by Peter's cross. "Mr. Hale pointed out that the defendant described the hatchet wounds the killer inflicted as being on the right side of Miss Whiley's face, whereas the wounds were actually on the left side."

Yes.

"When Mr. Harmon was describing these wounds verbally, was he also demonstrating the strikes?" -Yes, ma'am. I gave him a ruler to hold and I told him to pretend this was the weapon. Then I stood in front of him and dipped down a little, so I would be more like Miss Whiley's height. Then I asked him to act out the blows." -Were the defendant's physical actions consistent with what he said?"

"No, ma'am, they were not. See, while he was talking I stood opposite him.

Now Mr. Harmon had that ruler in his right hand and he was saying the blows were landing on my right side, but really, with me facing him, it was on his right, but the left side of my face. See what I mean."

"I'm certain the jurors understand," O'Shay said.

Peter also understood with sickening clarity that he had lost one of his major points.

"Mr. Hale asked you if you had Officer Patrick shine a black light on the defendant's hands after a powder had been transferred to Mr. Harmon's hands from a Coke can," O'Shay said.

Yes.

"This powder then showed up orange on Mr. Harmon's hands under the ultraviolet light, is that correct?"

"Yes.

"What did Mr. Harmon do when Officer Patrick told him that the orange glow was Sandra Whiley's blood?"

"He stared at his hands and began wringing them in an effort to scrape off the blood."

"Now, Mr. Hale asked you if you led the defendant to say that the man in the park had a weapon."

"Yes."

"Did you ever suggest that the weapon used by the person who murdered Sandra Whiley was a hatchet?"

"No, ma'am. When I was talking to Gary we didn't know what was used to kill her, other than it was a sharp-bladed instrument."

"Who is the first person to say that the murder weapon was a hatchet?"

"Gary. The defendant."

"And, lo and behold, the murder weapon did turn out to be a hatchet, didn't it, Sergeant?"

"Yes, ma'am. Much to my surprise, it certainly did."

Chapter TWENTY-TWO.

Dr. Leonard Farber, Kevin Booth's treating physician, had thinning brown hair, clear blue eyes and an easy smile. His cheerful disposition seemed odd when you considered that he spent his days with people who were often in horrible pain. While he walked with Becky O'Shay, Farber explained that his patient had recovered enough to be moved out of isolation in the burn ward to a regular hospital room. O'Shay showed no emotion when the doctor described Booth's injuries and the process of grafting human skin and pigskin onto areas that had been horribly burned, but listening to a scientific explanation of the effect of ignited lighter fluid on human skin was not the same as seeing a person who had been set on fire.

Dr. Farber had arranged for Booth to be temporarily placed in a hospital room that was big enough for the judge, the court reporter, the attorneys and the jury. A policeman stationed outside Booth's door looked up as the doctor and the D.A. approached.

"We're set for two, right?" Farber asked.

"You should probably be here a little before two. Say, one forty-five. just in case the judge or Harmon's attorney has any questions."

"See you then," Farber said and he headed back to his office The police guard opened the door to Booth's room as soon as he checked Becky's ID. Booth was sitting up in a hospital bed that had been elevated so he could watch television. The set was showing a game show. As soon as the door opened, Booth turned off the set.

J O'Shay kept her poise when Booth turned his head toward her. His face was covered with silver sulfadiazine, a white, greasy cream. The right side of the face looked normal, but O'Shay could see bright red circles and blobs of healing outer skin through the cream that covered the left side. In addition, Booth had an eighthof-an-inch tube in his right nostril through which supplemental nutrition was administered. O'Shay also noticed that Booth's left eyebrow was gone.

Booth was wearing a short-sleeve hospital gown. The gown bulged in numerous places where bandages covered the grafts. On the back of Booth's left arm and hand were square patches of pinkish-purplish skin. A clear yellow serum oozed out of numerous perforations in the skin. O'Shay felt light-headed, even though Booth did not look as bad as she had imagined.

"How are you feeling, Mr. Booth?" O'Shay asked as she sat next to the bed on a gray metal chair.

"Bad," Booth managed. His speech had a harsh, rasping quality that startled O'Shay. The word was said so softly that she had to strain to hear it. Dr. Farber had explained that Booth had suffered a minor inhalation injury when he breathed in smoke from the beddin that burned in his cell. Booth's pain medication had also been withheld so he would be clearheaded for his testimony.

"You'll feel better when you're through testifying and I let the U.S. Attorney know how much I appreciate your help."

O'Shay could see that Booth was frightened.

"Don't worry, Kevin. This won't take long. The doctor will be here. The judge will let you take breaks, if u'll do fine.

you need toyo -We don't start for a while. I'm here because I want to tell you the questions I'm going to ask you, so you won't be surprised by them. Okay?"

Booth nodded and O'Shay rewarded him with a smile. For the next half hour, O'Shay went through her direct examination with Booth. For the most part, O'Shay let Booth answer without comment, but every once in a while, she would advise Booth to phrase an answer differently so it would have a greater impact on the jurors. By the end of the half hour, Booth seemed to be flagging, so O'Shay decided to wind up their meeting.

"That was great, Kevin. I wanted to go over one more thing, then I'll let you get some rest. Do you think you can hang in there for a few minutes more?"

Booth nodded slowly. His eyelids fluttered with fatigue.

"Jurors are impressed by details. Little things that lend authenticity to what a witness says. There are a lot of good details in your account of Harmon's confession, but there's one thing I realize we've never talked about.

Something Gary Harmon may have told you that only the killer would know."

"What ... thing?"

"You told me that Harmon said that Sandra Whiley wore a good luck piece around her neck. A small, silver medallion on a chain. Did Harmon ever mention anything else about this necklace to you?"

"What ... would he ... have said?"

"The necklace was found in some bushes near the entrance to the park. By those stone pillars. We think that the killer tore it off of her neck while they were struggling. Did Harmon ever mention anything about that?"

"I ... I'm not sure."

"Try and remember. I don't want you to testify about anything Harmon didn't tell you. I don't want you to make up anything. But it would be important, if Bar mon did say it. Why don't you think about it while you rest."

Booth nodded. O'Shay stood up.

"I'll come by before everyone else arrives and you can tell me if you remember anything about the necklace or anything else of importance."

Peter Hale and Becky O'Shay sat on either side of Judge Kuffel on the left side of Kevin Booth's bed. Behind them, against the wall, sat the jurors. Dr. Farber and the court reporter sat on the right side of the bed. Gary Harmon sat behind Peter. Two guards stood against the wall. Another policeman was stationed outside the room in the hospital corridor.

Peter had his back to the jurors, but he had stolen a glance at them when he was setting up his notes on the bridge table the hospital provided. They seemed uneasy so close to a person who had been horribly burned.

Peter appreciated how the jurors felt. He remembered his temporary feeling of disorientation when he saw his father in intensive care for the first time. Hospitals were unpleasant places and patients were graphic reminders of human frailty.

"Mr. Booth, are you feeling well enough to talk to the ury?" Becky O'Shay asked with unctuous concern.

Booth nodded. It had been agreed that he could respond with a nod or shake of the head to questions that could be answered yes or no.

"Good. If you want to rest for a while please let me know and I'll ask the judge for a recess. Dr. Farber will also be here during the questioning. Do you understand that you can talk to him at any time, if you need to?"

Again, Booth nodded.

"Okay. Now, even though you are recuperating from your terrible burns in this hospital in Portland, you are technically a prisoner awaiting trial in jail on various charges relating to narcotics, are you not?"

Booth nodded.

"After your arrest, were you placed in the Whitaker County jail?"

Booth nodded.

"Was Gary Harmon in the same jail?"

Booth's head turned slowly until he was staring directly at Gary. Then he turned back toward the prosecutor. Though it took only seconds, the action seemed to take forever.

"Yes," Booth rasped. Several jurors seemed disturbed by the way Booth's voice sounded.

"How long have you known Mr. Harmon?"

"High ... school."

"Can you estimate the number of years?"

"Six ... seven years."

"Were you friends in high school?"

Booth nodded.

"So, Mr. Harmon would trust you."

"Objection," Peter said. "Leading."

"That is a leading question, Mr. Hale. Now, I am going to permit more leading than I normally would because of Mr. Booth's condition, but I think this is too important an area to permit it. Why don't you rephrase the question, Ms. O'Shay."

"Very well, Your Honor. Mr. Booth, describe your relationship with Mr. Harmon."

"Gary ... was my ... friend."

The effort to get out this halting sentence seemed to exhaust Booth. He closed his eyes and rested while O'Shay asked the next question.

"Dia Mr. Harmon appear to have other friends when he was in jail in Whitaker?"

"No," Booth answered, his eyes still shut. "Seemed lonely. Gary ... stayed by self."

"Did you talk to Mr. Harmon in jail?"

Booth nodded.

"In the course of these conversations did he ever discusshis case?"

Booth nodded.

"Tell the jury how that happened."

Booth took a deep breath. His eyes opened and he slowly turned his head toward the jurors.

"First time I saw Gary in yard, he seemed ... glad to see me. Excited. We just talked. When I asked about murder ... he said he didn't.. . didn't kill girl ..

Booth paused and sipped from a straw in a plastic water bottle. The jury waited. Booth turned back to them.

"I was ... a friend. He could trust me. He was nervous. Scared. Later, he told me the truth. He said ... he killed her."

i "Did he just come out and confess?"

"No. It wasn't ... first time. First time we talked, he said he didn't. Next day ... he was upset. I told him he didn't have to be afraid. If ... he wanted to get something ... off chest.. ." Booth took a deep breath. "Gary was scared ... He needed to tell ... someone."

"What did he need to talk about?"

"Mistake. Girl at bar insulted Gary. He was confused.

IJ He attacked wrong girl. Then ... too late."

"So, the defendant thought Sandra Whiley was another girl who had insulted him in a bar and he told you he killed her by mistake."

Booth nodded.

"Tell the jury the defendant's description of the I murder."

Booth drank some more water and gathered himself.

His testimony was obviously exhausting him. Booth was ;1 "Ip" generating so much sympathy that Gary would be dead J. and buried by the end of the hospital session if something dramatic did not happen.

"Gary tried to get date with ... girl at Stallion. She said no. Gary .. . kept after her. She called him stupid ... Made him angry. Gary grabbed her. Yelled at her.

"Gary said he ... ran away. Still mad. Ran to his ... house. Got hatchet. Went back to Stallion."

"Did the defendant say that anything happened on his way back to the Stallion?"

"He saw girl. Thought she was ... girl from bar." -The one who insulted him?"

Booth nodded.

"Where did he see her?"

"Near entrance to ... park."

"Was this the main entrance to Wishing Well Park that leads to the Wishing Well Memorial?"

Booth nodded again.

"What did the defendant say he did after spotting this woman?"

"He threatened her. She backed into the park." Booth paused and took a sip of water. "Gary grabbed her.

They struggled. She had ... necklace. Gary ... grabbed her .. . by the necklace. It came off. She broke away."

Booth paused again. "Ran to the well."

"Who ran to the well?"

"The girl."

"Then what happened?"

"Gary threw away ... the necklace. Ran after her.

Caught her."

"Did he say what he did after catching her?"

Booth nodded. He stared at the jury'he killed her."

"Did he say how many times he struck her or where?"

Booth shook his head. "He was ... upset. Crying.

Gary just said he ... hit her. More than once."

"What happened after the defendant hit Miss Whiley with the hatchet?

"She was ... dead. He stood over her. That's when he saw he killed the wrong one."

"What did the defendant do then?"

Booth sipped some water before continuing his testimony.

"He was scared. Ran away."

"What did the defendant do with the hatchet?"

"Put it in storm drain ... near college."

"And after that?"

"Gary went to the Ponderosa."

"That's a bar?"

Booth nodded.

"Did the defendant ever express remorse for killing Sandra Whiley?"

"He was sorry."

Sorry Booth looked at the jury and waited a beat before saying, "Sorry he killed the wrong girl."

"Was anyone else present during these conversations between Mr. Harmon and yourself?" Peter Hale asked, when court resumed after a twenty-minute recess.

Booth shook his head.

"So, the jury has only your word that Mr. Harmon made this confession."

Booth did not answer.

"You stand to benefit greatly from your testimony, don't you?"

"I don't ... understand."

"Well, let's start with the drug charges you're facing.

You were arrested holding two garbage bags containing a total of twenty kilos of cocaine, weren't you?"

"I ... didn't ... know..

"Your Honor, will you instruct Mr. Booth to answer 1% the question, please?"

"Yes, Mr. Booth. You must answer yes or no, if you can."

Booth ran his tongue across his lips, then nodded.

"And you had just been given the twenty kilos by Rafael Vargas, an enforcer for a Colombian drug cartel?"

Again, Booth nodded.

"Agents of the federal Drug Enforcement Administration made the arrest, did they not?"

Booth nodded. -Which means you're facing charges in federal court?"

Booth nodded again.

"Has your lawyer told you that under the Federal Sentencing Guidelines you will most likely be sentenced to more than ten years in prison if you are convicted for possession of that much cocaine?"

... don't have ... a lawyer."

see. But you know the possible sentencep, "Yes."

"Did Ms. O'Shay tell you about that sentence?"

The question caught Booth off guard and he could not help looking at the prosecutor.

"Don't ... remember."

"That's interesting. You would think you would remember the person who told you that you were going to spend ten years in prison."

Peter paused and Booth said nothing.

"You're not worried about spending any time in prison, are you, Mr. Booth?"

"What do ... you mean?"

"Why don't you tell the jury about the deal you're going to receive for testifying?"

"No deal."

"Are you telling this jury that you're not going to receive any benefit from the prosecutor or the federal government for testifying against Gary Harmon?"

"No deal."

"Are you going to trial to contest the narcotics charge?"

"Don't know."

"If you plead guilty or go to trial and are found guilty, do you think Ms. O'Shay will put in a good word for you with the judge at sentencing?"

"I hope so."

"You know so, don't you, Mr. Booth, because you and Ms. O'Shay have a deal worked out already."

"Asked and answered, Your Honor," Becky said quickly. "Mr. Booth has already explained that he is testifying without any promise of assistance from MY office or the federal prosecutor."

Peter could not believe this. There was obviously a J deal. O'Shay and Booth had to be lying.

"Do you want this jury to believe that you are testifying out of the goodness of your heart?"

"Didn't want to," Booth managed. "Gary is my friend. But . Booth shook his head slowly. "That girl. To kill her like that. What if Gary was free ... and killed again?" Booth paused. "Couldn't have that ... Vill on conscience."

"Did it bother your conscience when you lied to Mr. I Harmon at the Stallion by telling him that Karen Nix I wanted to go out on a date with him?"

"Not me. Chris Mammon told Gary ... about girl."

"But you went along with it?"

Booth nodded.

"You've known Mr. Harmon since high school?"

Id Booth nodded again.

"Then you know he's mentally handicapped?"

Booth hesitated before nodding.

"And knowing this, you went along with Manurion's cruel joke?"

Booth ran a tongue over his lips. "Didn't want to. Felt bad."

"Oh? Does that mean that the witnesses who said you were laughing hysterically at Gary's discomfort were mistaken?"

Booth did not answer.

"You enjoyed tricking and teasing Mr. Harmon, didn't you?"

"No," Booth rasped, but he did not sound conti vincing.

And you had no difficulty lying to Gary to gain your ends at the Stallion, just like you have no trouble lying to this jury about what Gary said to you to save yourself from a federal prison sentence.

"Objection," O'Shay shouted. -Sustained," judge Kuffel said.

"Then I have no further questions, Your Honor."

Peter replayed Kevin Booth's testimony over and over during the five -hour ride from Portland to Whitaker and he always came to the same conclusion. Booth sounded as if he was telling the truth and Peter's cross-examination had not given the jury any reason to disbelieve him.

His cross-examination of Booth had been as disheartening as his cross-examination of Dennis Downes. Neither witness had been broken because Peter was not sure how to cross-examine effectively. He'd had few chances to examine witnesses and his inexperience in court was killing him.

Peter considered going to the office and working on the case, but he was too depressed and tired. Then, he thought about going home, but he did not want to be alone. Finally, he decided to visit Donna and he felt better immediately. He had really enjoyed being with Donna the other night. It had been one of the few times since the trial started that he had been able to relax.

Donna was attractive, but Peter tried not to think of her in that way because she was Steve's wife. He tried to think of her as a friend. Someone he could talk to. Someone he just enjoyed being around.

Peter hoped he would find Donna alone, but Rhonda Kates opened the door when he knocked. Rhonda had also proved to be a good friend. She had been great about helping Donna. When he saw her, Peter smiled warmly.

"Hi, Rhonda. Is Donna here?"

"She's freshening up."

Peter noticed that Rhonda looked as though she was getting ready to go out.

"What's up?"

"Donna's moving back to her folks' house. I was going to drive her."

"I'll do it. I have some stuff I have to go over with her about the trial."

"Okay. How is the trial going?"

Peter stopped smiling. "Not good," he said.

The bathroom door opened and Donna walked out.

She looked surprised to see Peter. Then, the look of surprise changed to a welcoming smile.

"Rhonda tells me you're going to your folks."

Donna sobered. "I'm sick of hiding. I didn't do anything wrong. Steve did. My brother is on trial for his life and Steve is not going to keep me from being in court to support him."

"Are you going to tell your folks what happened?" Peter asked.

"Yes. I've decided that I have no reason to feel ashamed."

"Good for you. If you want me to, I'll take you to the farm. I can fill you in on the case while we're driving."

in Donna hugged Rhonda and thanked her for putting i her up.

"What happened at the hospital?" Donna asked as soon as they were on the road. Peter recounted Booth's testimony.

"Do you think the jurors believed him?"

"I don't know. What scares me is that he seemed to be telling the truth. And he was so pathetic." Peter shook his head. "The poor bastard could hardly talk."

"Didn't your investigator find anything you could use against Booth?"

"Pullen has been a disaster."

"I thought he was supposed to be good."

"That's what Steve said, but I haven't seen any evidence of it. I can never find the guy. His reports are useless. The few times I have gotten in touch with him, he's been working at his brother's body shop instead of rking on the case."

wa -why don't you fire him and hire someone new?"

"It's too late. We're in the middle of the trial."

The road to the Harmon farm followed the river. It was a pretty stretch lined with elm and maple trees.

Donna had lapsed silence so Peter rolled down the driver's window and enjoyed the rich summer air until she said, "I have an idea. I've lived in Whitaker my whole life. I know a lot of people here. Why don't you let me help with the investigation?"

"What?"

"I know I can do it. If .. . we do go to a penalty phase, I can line up a million witnesses with good things to say about Gary. It would take another investigator weeks to make up a list of people I could remember in an afternoon."

"You've never done any investigation, Donna. You wouldn't know how to go about it. You need a police background or training."

"Barney Pullen has a police background. How much good has he done for Gary?"

"It wouldn't work."

"Maybe not, but I can't do worse than Pullen, from what you've said, and I might do a hell of a lot better.

At least you'd know I wasn't going to quit on you."

Peter dropped Donna off at the Harmons' and headed back to town. During the drive, he thought over Donna's offer to act as his investigator. She meant well, but she had no experience and he needed someone who knew what he was doing. One thing g she said had made in sense, though. If Gary was convicted, the penalty phase would start after a short break. In the penalty phase, the defense told the defendant's life story to humanize him.

Donna would not only know what people would be of use at trial, but those people would trust her and talk to her.

The phone was ringing when Peter walked in the door of his house. He answered on the third ring.

"Is this Peter Hale, the lawyer who's defending that guy who's supposed to have killed the girl in the park?"

"Right. Who's this?"

"Zack Howell. I'm a student. I go to Whitaker."

"What's up, Zack?"

"I, uh, read the ad. The one you put in the Clarion asking anyone who was near Wishing Well Park when Sandy Whiley was murdered to call you."

Yes?"

"Well, uh, I didn't want to call, at first. But the guy is charged with murder. So, I talked it over with Jessie, my girlfriend, and she said we had to call."

"You were near the park on the evening of the murder?"

"Yeah, we were."

Chapter TWENTY-THREE.

After talking to Zack Howell, Peter called Barney Pullen's house. A woman answered and told him that Pullen wasn't in. Peter left a message for the investigator, telling him to bring his reports to the courthouse at eight o'clock the next morning.

Peter was in front of the courthouse at eight sharp. At eight-twenty, Pullen showed up, looking annoyed.

"You're late," Peter said.

"Sorry," Pullen mumbled, but it was obvious that he didn't mean it.

"Where are your reports?"

"I haven't found a lot of useful stuff yet, Mr. Hale," Pullen said, handing Peter a thin stack of paper, "but I think I'm close to some good information."

Peter thumbed through the reports quickly, because there was so little to read. He was stunned at first, then furious. When he looked up at Pullen, the investigator would not meet his eye.

"I can't believe this is everything you've done."

Pullen shrugged.

"Have you walked off the distances between the Stallion, the Ponderosa and Gary's house, like I asked? I don't see a report on it in here."

"I haven't had a chance to get to it, yet."

"I asked you to do that weeks ago."

"Yeah, I know. I was going to do that on the weekend, but something came up."

"What was that, Barney?"

Pullen looked very uncomfortable. "I promised my ke his kid fishing. I thought I'd have plenty brother I'd to of time to walk off the distances when we got back to town, but in y car broke down. By the time I fixed it and got the kid back to his folks, I-was beat. I should be able to get to it today."

"Barney, this isn't working out."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I'm getting someone else to take over the investigation. I just don't think you're doing a professional job and there's too much at stake."

"What are you talking about? I've been busting my ass on this case."

"We've got a difference of opinion on that. Send me a bill for your time. I've got to get to court.

A reporter from the Clarion spotted Donna and her parents in the corridor outside judge Kuffel's courtroom.

Before they could get inside, the reporter cornered Jesse and asked him for a comment. While II er father talked to the reporter, Donna took a step back, hoping she would be left alone.

"Hi, Donna."

She turned. Steve was standing next to her. Her breath caught and fear froze her.

"I have an appearance in judge Staley's court. I was heading there when I saw you."

"I don't want to talk to you, Steve. Please go away."

"You have every right to be angry. I just wanted to w you're doin find out ho 9.

"I'm doing fine, now that you can't hit me."

Mancini looked down. He seemed contrite.

"You don't deserve what I did. I'm ... I don't know what I am. But I know that I love you and I want our marriage to work. I'm willing to go to counseling, if you think that's what I need."

"I don't trust you, Steve, and this isn't the time."

"I understand. I don't expect you to come back to me right away, but I want you to know that I still love you very much and I feel sick about what I've done to our marriage. I just want to know if we have a chance."

"I don't know if we do," Donna answered firmly.

Jesse Harmon turned away from the reporter and saw Steve. He flushed with anger and took a step forward.

Donna put a hand on his arm, "It's all right, Dad."

Jesse glowered at Mancini, but held his tongue.

"Now isn't a good time," Donna told Steve.

"Will you at least agree to talk this over."

"I have to think."

"Let's go, Donna," Jesse said and Donna followed her parents into the courtroom.

Peter and Gary were already at their counsel table.

Gary noticed Donna and grinned. He had been iiset when she was not in court. Peter walked over to the bar of the court and motioned toward Donna.

"I thought over your idea about investigating for me.

There are a few things I'd like you to do "Oh, Peter," Donna said excitedly.

"Look, I don't have any time now, but Becky told Judge Kuffel that she only has one short witness before she rests her case. Kuffel in send the jurors home whe II WI she rests, then hear motions. I think I'll be done by noon. Why don't I drive out to the farm after lunch. I'll make copies of all the investigative reports'. You can read them over and we can talk about it tonight."

"That would be great."

III The ha' 'if called the court to order and Donna and Peter took their seats just as Becky O'Shay recalled Dennis Downes to the stand.

"I have one more matter I want to discuss with you, Sergeant Downes," O'Shay said, after the judge re minded the policeman that he was still under oath.

O'Shay handed Downesa plastic evidence bag.

"Do you recognize the item of evidence marked State's Exhibit 76 that is contained in this plastic bag?"

Yes."

"What is it?"

"It's a Crusader's Cross on a chain."

"A necklace?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Who owned this necklace?"

"We established that this medallion was Sandra Whiley's good luck charm. She was last seen wearing it by one of the bartenders at the Stallion shortly before she left the bar around eleven-twenty."

"Was she still wearing the necklace when her body was discovered?"

"No. There was a bruise on Miss Whiley's neck that was consistent with a narrow object like the chain on the necklace being torn off forcefully."

"Where was the necklace found?"

"In a bush near the entrance to Wishing Well Park."

"Was the necklace damaged in any way when it was found?"

"The clasp had been broken in a manner consistent with the necklace having been jerked off of the victim while she was wearing it."

"How many people knew that Miss Whiley was not wearing the necklace when she was found?"

"Not many. It would only be the police at the scene, the medical examiner.

Not all of the officers saw the body or learned about the discovery of the necklace."

"So very few people would know that the necklace had been ripped from Miss Whiley's neck when she was killed as opposed to being removed from her neck by the police when her body was discovered at the well?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"What conclusion would you draw as an experienced law enforcement officer, if you learned that Gary Harmon told someone that Sandra Whiley's killer had ripped a necklace from her just before he murdered her?"

Peter objected to the question and Judge Kuffel sustained his objection, but Downes's answer did not matter. The jury had heard Kevin Booth's account of Gary's confession and they were going to wonder how Gar y could possibly have known that Sandra Whiley's Crusader's Cross had been ripped from her neck just before she was killed. Peter was wondering about that too when Becky O'Shay told the judge. that the state was resting its case.

Chapter TWENTY-FOUR

The defense case was short and that worried Peter. He wondered if the jury would hold it against Gary that he was able to muster so few witnesses to speak on his behalf after so much testimony from the prosecution.

During the morning session of court Peter called several of the policemen who searched Gary's house to establish that no blood had been found on Gary's clothes.

He also called the bartender from the Ponderosa, who testified that he saw Gary around midnight on the evening of the murder and did not notice any blood on his clothes. Then, he called Elmore Brock, whose shaggy brown hair, smooth skin and blue blazer made him look like a student in a parochial school. Gary's face lit up when he saw Brock and he waved at the witness. Brock ing looked unsure about smiling back, but he did when Gary started to look upset.

"That's Mr. Brock," Gary told Peter excitedly "How are you employed, Mr. Brock?" Peter asked after getting Gary -to quiet down.

"I'm the school psychologist at Eisenhower High School here in Whitaker."

"Can you tell the jury your educational and professional background?"

Brock hunched over a little. He looked uncomfortable talking to the jury.

"I graduated from Portland State University with a B.A. in psychology. Then, I obtained a master's degree from the University of Oregon in special education.

After I received my master's, I spent one year in Portland a t the Allen Center, a treatment facility with programs for preschool -through adolescence. When the school psychologist position at Eisenhower High opened up six years ago, I applied for it and I've been there since then."

"Mr. Brock, did you work with mentally handicapped children at the Allen Center?"

"Yes I did."

"Does Eisenhower High have classes for the mentally handicapped?"

"It does."

"What is the definition of 'mentally handicapped'?"

"Uh, I'd say it means that a person has diminished capacity to take in and organize new information and diminished ability to use the information. The negative effects of this condition can be seen in all aspects of the handicapped person's life and it affects his educational, social and vocational functions."

"Did you know Gary Harmon when he was a student at Eisenhower?"

"Yes, I did," Brock said, turning toward Gary and smiling at him warmly. Gary smiled back.

"Was he classified as mentally handicapped?"

"Yes."

"What is Gary's IQ?"

"Somewhere between 65 and 70."

"What is the IQ of an average, normal person?"

"One hundred."

"Would a person with an average IQ do well in college?"

"No. Most college students have IQ's in the range of 120.5'

"Mr. Brock, what is the difference between Gary and someone with an average IQ?"

"Well, if you looked at a photograph, it wouldn't show any difference, but if you talked to Gary you would notice several things after a while. Gary's speech is going to be slower and less distinct. His vocabulary will be significantly smaller. His coordination and fine motor skills will also be more awkward and less devel aped.

"Gary also functions in the here and now. He doesn't have the ability to make plans that extend very far into the future and the plans he does make are going to be vague and may be unrealistic."

Peter shot a quick look at Gary, but he showed no reacting on during this clinical discussion of his intelligence level.

"What classes did Gary take in school?"

""They were special education classes designed to give Gary living skills and vocational skills. He also received e very basic education in mathematics, E English and sam n other subjects; that normal children study."

J "Did Gary have an individualized education plan?"

"Yes. He trained to be a janitor and he worked at the college with the janitorial staff while in high school."

"Was his work as a Janitor satisfactory?"

"Definitely," Brock answered enthusiastically. Gary sat up straight and smiled proudly. "Gary works very hard at any task you give him. It took him a while to catch on, but Gary never stops trying to learn a skill."

"Did Gary do any work for you?"

"Yes. He was always asking me if he could help me around the office. I usually told him no, because most of the work was too complicated for him, but I did have him Xerox items on occasion and he was great at stuffing envelopes."

"I did good work for Mr. Brock," Gary said.

"May I have a moment, Your Honor?" Peter asked.

judge Kuffel nodded. Peter turned toward his client and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Gary, we talked about this," Peter said quietly. "You can't talk while a witness is testifying. Okay? You write down anything you think is important and we'll talk about it. But don't talk now."

"I'm sorry " Gary said.

"Mr. Brock, do you have Gary's school records?"

Peter continued.

"Yes," Brock said, holding up-a manila folder.

"Was Gary a discipline problem at Eisenhower?"

"No, sir. In fact, there are very few negative comments in Gary's folder."

"Do children with Gary's handicap tend to fight?"

"No. To the contrary. Mentally handicapped children tend to shy away from fights, even if -they are big and strong like Gary, unless they come from a dysfunctional family and have developed antisocial traits."

"Why is that?"

"They feel inadequate compared to so-called normal people. They get frightened easily and believe they need permission to do things."

"Was Gary a mean or aggressive young man while at E'senhower?"

I 41 Definitely not. He was usually docile and very sensitive to other people's feelings. Let me give you an example. Gary loves football. I remember one game where a teammate was injured. Mentally handicapped kids have feelings like everyone else, but they have a harder time controlling them. They sort of wear their heart on their sleeves. I remember Gary being in tears while the I coaches attended to this kid."

"As an expert in mental retardation and as someone who knows Gary personally, were you surprised to learn that Gary was charged with this murder?"

"Yes I was. Nothing I know about Gary would have prepared me for this. The amount of violence involved ... Just the idea of Gary inflicting that kind of pain on another nsistent with Gary's person is inca personality and the way someone of his intelligence would function."

"No further questions."

Becky O'Shay glanced through the copy of Gary's school records she had received weeks ago with Peter's discovery material. When she was done, she smiled warmly at Elmore Brock. Brock's shoulders hunched a little more, but he flashed back a brief, nervous smile.

"It's Mr. Brock, not Dr. Brock?" O'Shay asked sweetly.

"Yes."

"So, Mr. Brock, you don't have a Phd.?"

"No.

"Am I correct that your master's is not in psychology?"

"Yes."

"In fact, you are not a licensed psychologist, are ?"

you "No.

"A licensed psychologist has to complete a one-year residency where he performs two thousand hours of ther py assessment in the area of his specialization while a under the supervision of a licensed psychologist, doesn't he?"

"Yes.

"You didn't do that, did you?"

Brock flushed.

"No," he said.

",&nd a licensed psychologist has to take national written exams and an oral examination given to him by the Oregon State Board of Psychologist Examiners.

doesn't he?"

Yes."

"But you didn't do that, did you?

"No," he answered tersely.

"Now, you've explained that the defendant is not as bright as normal folks, is that correct?""

"Yes.

"Could you tell the jurors what Gary's high school average was?"

"That doesn't mean..

"Your Honor ... O'Shay asked the judge.

"Yes, Mr. Brock. Please answer the question. If there is something Mr. Hale wants You to explain, he'll get a chance after Ms. O'Shay is done asking her questions."

Brock ducked his head a little and said, "Sorry."

"That's okay, Mr. Brock," the prosecutor said pleasantly. "This's all new to you. Do you want the question read back?"' "No, I remember it. Gary had a 3.20 grade average."

"A 4.00 is straight A's, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"And a 3.50 is honor roll?"

Yes.

"Now, I believe you said that someone like Mr. Harmon would have poor coordination?"

"Yes'

"Didn't the defendant earn a varsity letter in football his senior year?"

Brock started to say something, then choked it back.

"Yes," he answered tersely.

"You talked about things that the defendant can't do.

I'd like to ask you about some things he can do. For instance, can Gary Harmon lie?"

"Well, yes. Gary could learn how to lie."

"If he murdered a young girl would he be frightened?"

Yes.

"Would fear motivate a person with even an IQ of 65 to 70 to lie?"

"Yes."

"Now, you told a touching story about the defendant weeping when he saw a teammate injured during a football game."

"Yes."

"Then, I believe you testified that Mr. Harmon wept because mentally handicapped people have the same emotions as normal people but they have a harder time controlling their feelings."

"Yes."

ON th' M i "Anger is an emotion, isn't it?"

Brock saw the trap into which he had fallen, but he had no choice but to respond affirmatively.

"Mr. Brock, if someone with an IQ of 65 to 70 was drinking and very frightened because he had just butchered a young girl with a hatchet while in an uncontrollable rage, might he not block out the memory of what he had done?"

"That's ... that's possible."

"Mentally handicapped people are capable of persevering at tasks, are they not?"

"Yes, they can be very single-minded."

"So, if Mr. Harmon committed a particularly bloody and violent murder, fear might spur him to lie and he would be capable of sticking to that be?"

..Yes."

"What effect would being drunk have on this scenario?"

"Alcohol might make it more likely that Gary would not remember killing someone, if he did kill anyone," Brock answered reluctantly.

"I didn't kill that girl," Gary said.

"Your Honor," O'Shay said, staring at the defendant.

"Mr. Harmon, you may not speak out in court," judge Kuffel admonished Gary. "Do you widerstand me?"

Gary nodded. He looked upset. Peter whispered i something in his ear and Gary looked down at the tabletop.

"You said that planning is more difficult for someone with Mr. Harmon's IQ, did you not?" O'Shay continued.

"Yes.

"But he could plan a killing, couldn't he?"

"What type of killing are you talking about?"

"Let's say he was told that a woman at a bar wanted to go out with him by someone who was playing a practical joke. When Mr. Harmon asks the woman if she wants a beer, she not only rejects him, but insults his he intelligence, a subject about which he is very sensitive.

Let's say further that Mr. Harmon physically assaults this woman. My question, Doctor ... Pardon me. Mr. was tchalait he Brock, is whether Mr. Harmon is intelligent enough to make a plan that involves going to his house to obtain a weapon, returning to the area of the bar, following a woman from the bar, killing'her and getting rid of the murder weapon?"

"He ... he could carry out that plan."

!rse- O'Shay smiled. "Thank you. I have no further questions."

"Mr. Brock, you aren't a Phd but you are a speciality I heist in dealing with the mentally handicapped, are you not?" Peter asked the witness.

"Yes. That's where my training lies."

"What does Gary Harmon's 3.20 grade point average see- mean?"

"Not much. His grades are only relative to his ability auld the,11 to perform the tasks he's given. Gary does not have an A in advanced physics.

He has an A in life skills, which means he knows how to make his bed, tie his shoes and things of that sort. The grades are given to make the iant.

Urt", students feel good about themselves, not to reflect real academic merit."

tand "Ms. O'Shay pointed out that Gary was on the varsity football team at Eisenhower. Tell the jury about that."

iered & to- Gary looked up at the mention of his favorite sport.

"Gary loves football. He went. out for the team in ninth grade. The coach let him work out with the other leone con- boys, but he did not have the ability to really play.

Learning all but the simplest plays would be beyond him. So, the coach let him suit up. Every once in a while, if the team was really behind or really ahead, Gary would go in for a play or two. He would be told to block a specific person.

anted "His senior year, the coach put Gary on varsity, but pracf she he was only in five or so plays all year. They gave him a varsity letter because he tried so hard, not because he his 's did the things the other kids did to earn the letter."

"I have one final series of questions, Mr. Brock. How easy would it be to foot Gary into believing that he had supernatural powers that would enable him to project himself into the mind of a dead woman and see how she was killed?"

"It would be very easy. Gary wants very much to please people. He would do or say anything for approval."

"Would he invent a story to make a person in authority happy?"

"Most definitely. Gary has a very limited imagination, but he would pick up cues if the person talking to him suggested what he wanted to hear."

"What effect would there be on Gary if the person questioning him was a policeman?"

"That would have a big effect. Someone with Gary's IQ will follow people in authority without question. If a' policeman made suggestions to someone like Gary, there would be no way of telling if the mentally handicapped person Was remembering something or making it up to please the policeman."

After lunch, Peter called Don Bosco, who voiced his opinion that Dennis Downes had unwittingly placed Gary Harmon in a trance state during the interrogation, thus making any statement he made unreliable for evidentiary purposes. Bosco told the jury that Sergeant Downes's 'projection transfer" technique would invi ite someone of Gary's limited intelligence to fantasize in order to please his interrogator. He pointed out many sections of the transcript where leading and suggestive questions had elicited answers from Gary that echoed suggestions made by Downes.

"Mr. Bosco," Becky O'Shay said, when it was her turn to cross-examine, "if I understand you correctly, you are concerned that the defendant's statements may be unreliable because he may have parroted back suggestions made by Sergeant Downes instead of relating incidents in which he was actually involved."

"That's right."

"You weren't at Wishing Well Park when the murder was committed, were you?" O'Shay asked with a kind smile.

"No."

"So you don't know whether Gary Harmon committed this murder and was telling Sergeant Downes about an incident he remembers or whether he was not present during the murder and is making up a story?"

"That's true."

"Would one way of telling whether the defendant was making up what he told the officer be to see if he knew things about Sandra Whiley's murder that were not common knowledge and were not suggested to him by Sergeant Downes?"

"Yes."

"Thank you. No further questions."

Peter had saved his final witness for late in the day, so his testimony would be the last thing the urors heard.

He wanted the jurors to think about that testimony all night.

"Mr. Harmon calls Zachary Howell," Peter said.

A slender young man with curly brown hair entered the courtroom and walked to the witness stand.

"Mr. Howell," Peter asked, "are you a freshman at Whitaker State College?"

"Yes, sir."

What are you studying?"

Uh, I haven't settled on a major, yet. I'm thinking, maybe, biology."

"DO you have a girlfriend, Mr. Howell?"

"Yes."

"What's her name?"

"Jessie Freeman."

"How did you come to be a witness in this case?"

"There was an ad in the school paper. It asked anyone with any information about the murder to call you."

"Was the ad more specific?"

"You wanted to talk to anyone who'd been around Wishing Well Park from 11 P.m. to 2:30 A.M. on the evening that Sandra Whiley was killed."

"Do you remember what -you were doing on the evening that Sandra Whiley was murdered?"

"I was on a date with Jessie. We went to a late movie.

Afterward, we went to Wishing Well Park and, uh, we were in the park for a while."

Peter did not press Howell for more detailed testimony. He could tell from the amused looks of some of the jurors that they were well aware of what a young couple would be doing in the park on a romantic summer evening.

"When did you start to leave the park?"

"A little before eleven-thirty."

"How can you be certain of the time?"

"We were going white-water rafting the next day and we had to get up early, so I looked.at my watch to see what time it was."

"What path did you take to get out of Wishing Well Park?"

"We walked along the river until we reached the wishing well. Then we walked up the path and left through the main entrance."

"Did you see a dead body next to the well when you passed by?"

"No, sir."

"Would you have noticed a body?"

"Yes, sir. Jessie made a wish at the well and threw in a penny. We were standing there looking down."

"Do you know what Jessie wished for?"

"Yes, sir," Howell smiled.

"Tell the jury how you figured out Jessie's wish?"

"When we reached the place where the stone pillars are, Jessie kissed me."

"And did you kiss her back?' -Yes, sir."

"What happened then?"

"Jessie was holding on to my hand and she swung away from me and said, "See, wishes do come true." -She swung away," Peter repeated.

"Yes." -Why do you remember all this so well, Mr. Howell?"

"The girl who was murdered, Sandy, she was in one of my classes. Everyone was talking about it the next day when we got back from rafting. I realized that we must have been right where the murder took place, right before it happened. That really scared me."

"Mr. Howell, how long did it take between the time you decided to leave the park at a little before eleven-thirty and the time you actually left the park?"

"Not long. We were pretty near the well. Then, we stopped so Jessie could make her wish. That wasn't much time. I'd say no more than five minutes."

"So, it was around eleven thirty-five when you were at the entrance to the park?"

eyes)

"How was Jessie dressed?"

"Jeans and a tee shirt."

"Mr. Howell, are you taller or shorter than Jessie?"

"Taller. She's only about five four, five five."

"One last question. What is the color of Jessie Freeman's hair and does she wear it short or long?"

"Jessie's hair is blond. She has long blond hair."

Mi "Are you telling me that you didn't know a thing about this witness?"

Becky O'Shay shouted at Dennis Downes.

"Calm down, Becky."

"Don't you realize that our whole case depends on the theory that Harmon made up his story about seeing two people kissing at the entrance to Wishing Well Park? Didn't you hear me tell the jury during opening statement that there were never two people kissing at the park entrance, that the two people at the entrance were Sandra Whiley and the murderer, Gary Harmon?

Now, we've got two cute teenagers smooching at the pillars at eleven thirty-five. He is taller than she is, just as Harmon said. She swings away from him, just as Harmon said. And the girl has blond hair and was wearing jeans and a tee shirt, just like Sandra Whiley. Finally, we have Harmon eating biscuits and gravy at the Ponderosa without a drop of blood on him at midnight. The case is falling apart."

Downes shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know what to tell you. No one knew about Howell until he called Hale. It's just a bad break."

O'Shay clenched her fists in frustration. Then she sank onto her chair and sagged.

"I'm sorry I yelled, Dennis. I'm just tired. You go and interview Howell for me. See if you can get me something I can use on cross. Call me at home if you com@ up with anything."

Downes left and O'Shay stared at the stacks of pofic@ reports that covered her desk. Each one dealt with sorr aspect of the Harmon case. She had read through thin countless times, but she vowed to go through theiri again in hopes of finding anything that would help her, deal with Zack Howell's testimony.

Becky missed it her first time through because the clues were scattered around. A report here, a fragment of remembered conversation there. In fact, O'Shay did t all together until she caught sight of that afternot put I noon's edition of the Clarion lying unread on top of her filing cabinet.

Becky sat up, openmouthed. Then she rummaged through the police reports until she found the one she wanted. A surge of energy coursed through her as she reread it When she was done she placed several calls.

The people with whom she spoke confirmed her conclusion. Zack Howell and Jessie Freeman may have been kissing at the entrance to Wishing Well Park and Gary Harmon may have been sitting in the Ponderosa at midnight eating biscuits and gravy, but Harmon had also murdered Sandra Whiley and Becky could prove it.

Chapter TWENTY-FIVE.

The next day, Peter rested the defense case as soon as court convened, and Becky O'Shay called Dennis Downes as her first rebuttal witness.

"Sergeant Downes, you are aware that Dr. Guisti places Sandra Whiley's time of death sometime between 11:30 P.m. and 2:30 A.M.?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"And the body was discovered early on Saturday morning?"

Yes.

"Did the authorities know Miss Whiley's identity immediately?"

"No. We couldn't find a wallet or purse, so it took a while to identify Miss Whiley."

"When was the identification made?"

"After four that afternoon."

"How did you discover the identity of the victim?"

"Marjorie Dooling, Miss Whiley's roommate, saw a sketch of the victim in the afternoon edition of the Clarion and came down to the station house."

"No further questions."

"Any cross, Mr. Hale?" judge Kuffel asked.

Peter had no idea why Becky had asked Downes about the time of the identification so he shook his head.

"The state calls Martin Renzler."

Martin Renzler raised his hand and took the oath. He was tall and slender with wavy gray hair. Wire-rimmed glasses made him look studious. Renzler adjusted his suit jacket when he took the stand.

"How are you employed, Mr. Renzler?"

,I'm the managing editor of the Whitaker Clarion."

,is the Clarion the only daily paper in Whitaker County?"

"Yes."

"On the morning of the day that Sandra Whiley's body was found did you receive a request from Sergeant Dennis Downes of the Whitaker police?"

Yes.

"What was the request?"

"He told me that the body of an unidentified female had been found in Wishing Well Park. Sergeant Downes asked if the paper would publish an artist's sketch of the woman because the police could not establish her identity."

"Did the Clarion publish the sketch?"

"We ran the sketch on the front page."

"When does the paper hit the streets?"

"I checked our records. The earliest the edition would have been out in the community is 2:30 P.m."

"Nothing further," O'Shay said.

Something Peter had read in a police report began to nag him. It had been a short report. Something about ... about ... "The state calls Harry Diets."

As Peter thumbed through the huge stack of reports, an overweight, thirtyish man in a business suit walked quickly up the aisle and was sworn.

O'Shay established that he was the manager of KLPN, the local television station. Diets had also been contacted by Dennis Downes.

"Mr. Diets, did you broadcast the police sketch of the murdered girl?"

"We did. In fact, we made it part of a special bulletin and slipped it in at 3 P.m because our next regular newscast is at S."

Peter found the report he was looking for just as O'Shay called her next witness. As Wilma Polk walked to the witness stand, Peter read her statement to the police. By the time she had sworn to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth, the reason she, Diets, Renzier and Downes had been called to testify dawned on Peter.

As she testified to her recollections of the Harmon-Mancim wedding reception, Peter felt a sick, swirling feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Ulu you learn about anything unusual that had occurred in Whitaker on the morning of the wedding?" the prosecutor asked.

"My husband, Eric, is a policeman. He was 'called out early. When he came back, he told me that a young woman had been murdered in Wishing Well Park."

"Did you discuss the murder with Mabel Dawes, a friend of yours, at the wedding reception?"

"Yes, I did."

"Please tell the jury what happened while you were talking to your friend."

"We were at the food table. Gary Harmon walked over. He had a plate of food. I remember that, because it was piled very high and I was afraid some of the food in ight fall off.

"Gary seemed very interested in the murder. I remember Mabel saying that she would hate to be the person who had to break the news to the parents."

Did the defendant say anything to you at that point?"

"Yes. Yes he did."

"What did he say?"

"He told us that the girl had been at the Stallion the night of the murder."

Peter paled as he anticipated Becky O'Shay's next question and the answer he knew Wilma Polk would give.

"Do you remember when this converation with Gary took place?"

Harmon 6"Oh yes," Wilma Polk answered with a vigorous nod.

,We were due at my daughter's house at two. My grandson, Kenny, was having a birthday party. He's three."

"And the time?" O'Shay prodded.

"it was one-thirty. Eric said we had to hurry because the birthday was at two and it was already one-thirty."

"One-thirty," O'Shay repeated. "And you're certain of that)"

"Oh'yes, because I looked at my watch. Eric said it was one-thirty and that was exactly what my watch said."

Donna had stayed up until after midnight going through the investigative reports again, after Peter left the Harmon farm. The first job Peter gave her was to use a stopwatch while tracing the possible paths Gary could have followed on the evening of the murder so Peter could set up a time chart of Gary's movements. While she was making a list of all the routes she would have to walk, she noticed that she would be near the house where Sandra Whiley had lived with Marjorie D ling.

The boardinghouse was a yellow, two-story Vict nan with white trim. The lawn was neatly tended, but the front porch needed painting. A middleaged woman answered the doorbell.

"Good afternoon," Donna said nervously. "Is Marjorie Dooling in?"

"I believe so," the woman answered pleasantly.

"Who should I tell her is calling?"

Donna hesitated before identifying herself. She wondered if Dooling would recognize her last name and refuse to see her. After a moment's reflection, she decided that it was best to be honest.

Donna looked around the entry hall while the landlady went upstairs. After a minute, Donna heard the landlady knock on a door on the second floor and call out "Marge." A few minutes later, the landlady descended the stairs followed by a girl wearing a Grateful Dead concert tee shirt and cut-off jeans. Her brown hair was cut short. Donna recognized J her because she had seen Mar'one Dooling testify.

J "Ms. Dooling, I'm a private investigator working for Peter Hale."

Dooling looked surprised. "You're an investigator?"

"Just for this case," Donna explained nervously.

"Most of the time, I'm a legal secretary."

Suddenly, Dooling's brow furrowed. "Isn't Hale the lawyer representing the ... the man who killed ... ?"

"We don't think he killed anyone "I've already talked to the cops. They know your client killed Sandy. They told me he confessed."

"The police can make mistakes. They're making a big one in this case."

"T E:i "Right."

"Look, all I'd like to do is ask you a few questions 71d about your friend.

If it wasn't important, I wouldn't take up your time."

Dooling worried her lower lip for a minute. Then she said, "All right, but can you make it quick? I'm studying for a test."

"I promise I won't be too long."

"Come on up to my room."

Dooling's apartment consisted of a large living room, a bathroom and two bedrooms. The living room walls were decorated with framed posters. Dooling sat on an old couch. In front of her was a low coffee table covered with textbooks and an open loose-leaf notebook. Across from the couch was a TV and a CD player. Two old armchairs made up the rest of the furniture in the living room. Donna took one of the armchairs and opened her notebook. She noticed that the door to one of the bedrooms was closed.

C, that Sandra Whiley's room?"

Was "Yeah," Dooling answered quietly.

"Do you miss her?" she asked.

Dooling gave the question a lot of thought. -we weren't super close, but she was nice. I guess I do miss her."

"Can you tell me a little about her?"

"She was quiet. She was a good listener, too. I could talk to her, if I had a problem."

"Did she date?"

"A little."

"Do you think she might have been killed by someone she dated?"

"The police asked me the same question. I only met a few of the guys she dated. None of them seemed like the type who would ... You know."

"How did you two meet?"

"Both of us were working our way through school by waitre ssing at Clark's.

We got friendly and decided it would be cheaper for both of us to share my place."

"Marjorie, can you think of anything unusual that happened around the time Sandy was killed?"

Dooling looked a little nervous. Then, she sighed.

"I guess it can't hurt now, and I already told the D.A. Sandy used drugs. A few months before she was killed, I started worrying that she was getting in too deep, but she wouldn't listen to me."

"What drugs are we talking about?"

"Cocaine."

"What did you mean when you said she was getting in too deep?"

"She didn't always use coke. Not when I met her. I mean, she may have experimented with it, but mostly it was grass'. I started getting worried when the coke became a regular thing. I think she was seeing someone who turned her on to it. She was staying in her room a lot and skipping classes. She said everything was okay, but I didn't believe her."

"Was this around the time of her death?"

"Actually, right around the murder I began thinking maybe she was trying to quit. She was acting different.

She seemed scared of something, too. She was locking W the door and not going out at night as much."

"Did Sandy have family? Someone she might have talked to if something was bothering her?"

"I don't think she was close with her folks. They're divorced and she didn't see them much."

"What about at school? Did she have friends other than you?"

"There was a girl in some of her classes. Annie something."

"Do you have a phone number or address for this Annie?"

"No."

"You mentioned that Sand seemed scared. Was it of y J anyone in particular?"

Dooling hesitated. "There was a guy."

"Do you have a name?"

"No. But I know he scared her."

"Can you describe him?"

"I only saw him once from the upstairs window. He ca the to pick her up and he stayed in his car."

Donna asked her some more questions about Whiley's interests, her courses and her personal life.

When Donna noticed that Dooling was glancing at the clock and her schoolwork, she stood up.

"Thanks for talking to me. I'm sorry I bothered you, but this has been helpful." Donna handed Dooling the business card of the lawyer for whom she worked with her name handwritten on it. "If you remember anything else, please give me a call."' Donna waited until she was outside before taking a th. She was nervous, but she decided that her deep brea first interview as an investigate r had not gone too badly.

She just didn't know if anything Dooling said would be of use to Peter.

The guard closed the door to the interview room and Gary sat down across from Peter. There was a dull smile on Gary's face. He started playing with the end of his tie. Peter shook his head. His client was totally oblivious to the havoc that had been wreaked on their case by the state's witnesses, but Wilma Polk's testimony had put Peter into a state of shock.

"I want you to listen up, Gary."

"Okay.

"I have a very important question for you and I want ou to think before you answer it. Can you do that for y me "Sure."

Gary sat up straight and stopped smiling.

"Sandy was murdered between eleven-thirty on Friday night and two-thirty on Saturday morning. You got that?"

"Uh huh," Gary answered with a nod.

"Good. When Sandy's body was found early Saturday, she didn't have any identification on her. No one knew her name. So, the police asked the newspaper and the TV to show her picture and ask for help in finding out who she was. Are you following me?"

"Yeah, Pete. They didn't know Sandy's name."

"Right. Good. Okay. Now the newspaper came out around two-thirty in the afternoon and the TV showed Sandy's picture at three. Sandy's roommate told the police Sandy's name around four. Two-thirty in the after noon is the earliest anyone could have known who Sandy was because that's when the paper came out with her picture. Do you see that?"

"They coulda seen the picture," Gary said with a smile.

"Right. But there was no picture before two-thirty."

"No one coulda seen it before two-thirty."

"Right. Now listen up. Here's my question, Gary.

Mrs. Polk says that at one-thirty, at the wedding reception, you told her the dead girl was at the Stallion on Friday evening. Do you remember her saying that?"

"Who's Mrs. Polk?" Gary asked.

"The last witness. That lady with the gray hair."

Gary looked down at the table. He was embarrassed.

"I didn't listen to her too good. I was hungry."

Peter calmed himself with a deep breath. He did not want to get upset. He did not want to yell at Gary.

"That's okay. I was hungry too. Do you remember Mrs. Polk from the wedding?"

Gary's brow furrowed as he tried to remember Mrs. Polk. Finally, he shook his head.

"I don't remember that lady."

"Do you remember telling anyone that the girl was at the Stallion?"

"No.

!:ij k 0 "Well, you did. That's what Mrs. Polk said. So, how could you do that? If no one else knew who was killed at one-thirty, how did you know the girl had been at the Stallion?"

"I don't know."

"Well, think."

Gary started to look worried. He shifted in his seat.

"Maybe it was my powers. Maybe I seen it with my mind," Gary said, anxious to please Peter.

"We've been over this already, Gary. You do not have powers. No one has those powers. Sergeant Downes fooled you."

Gary thought hard for a moment. Then he looked confused. Finally he turned to Peter and asked, "If I don't have those powers, how did I do it, Pete? How did I know who that girl was?" -Shit! Shit! Shit!" Peter screamed as soon as he was safely locked in his car with the music cranked up. The session with Gary had driven him Tomorrow, he would have to give his closing argument. What was he going to say? How was he going to explain all of the facts that Gary knew about this case that only the murderer could possibly know?

Peter wanted to believe that Gary was innocent, but he was starting to wonder. Gary was capable of physical violence. He had attacked Karen Nix.

Elmore Brock had testified that Gary was intelligent enough to plan the murder of Sandra Whiley. Gary seemed so gentle, so childlike, but he had been drinking on the night of the murder.

How could Gary fool him for this long if he was guilty? Brock said Gary could lie and stick to a lie. Mentally handicapped individuals could persevere at a task.

If Gary was frightened of exposure could he maintain a lie for this long?

What if he did not need to lie? That was the most frightening possibility.

What if Gary murdered Sandra Whiley and did not even know it? What if the combination of alcohol and fear had erased the horrible deed from Gary's memory?

The Harmons lived a white, two-story colonial farmhouse. There was a large front lawn bounded by a white board fence. Donna came onto the front porch as soon as she heard Peter's car chewing up the gravel on the circular driveway. She was dying to tell him all of the things she had done on her first day as his investigator. Her smile disappeared as soon as she saw Peter's face.

"What's wrong?"

"That's what I have to talk to you about."

Donna ushered Peter into the large front room. Jesse and Alice were at a church function, so they were alone.

As soon as they were seated, Peter related the testimony that established that Gary knew the victim had been at the Stallion before anyone else knew her identity. Donna looked more and more troubled as Peter spoke.

"Where' was Gary before he went to the Stallion Friday night?"

"With us. Mom cooked a meal for Steve and the farnz. ily. Steve had to leave early to work on his cases so he could go on our honeymoon. He gave Gary a lift into town."

"Did Steve tell you where he dropped off Gary?"

"I think it was at home. Gary must have walked to the Stallion on his own.

It's not that far from his house."

"Gary says he went to Steve's house from the bar.

When he didn't find him home, he walked to the Ponderosa. Gary ate there, but he also did some more drinking. The bartender at the Ponderosa says he was pretty tipsy when he left around 2 A.m. Gary doesn't remember going to bed, but he does remember getting up early and doing his wash. When did you, see him next?"

"When he and Steve arrived at the church. Steve picked up Gary and drove him over. I asked him to do it in case Gary was having any trouble with his tuxedo."

ji "Was Gary home when Steve arrived?"

"Steve said he was."

Peter thought for a minute. Then, he asked, "Did Gary say anything to you at the church or the reception that relates to the murder?"

Fiji!! i "Gary did say there were police cars at the park. You pass it on the way to the church. I remember that he was excited. But I had the impression that he just saw them as they drove by."

"You know Gary better than anyone. Could he have killed that girl?"

"I'll never believe Gary could be so cruel."

Peter shook his head. He looked exhausted and thoroughly ejecte .

"I'm afraid that he's going to be convicted. He knew Whiley was at the Stallion before anyone else knew who she was. He told Booth about the necklace. He knew the killer used a hatchet and where it was hidden. How can you explain all that?"

"I can't," Donna answered softly. "I just know Gary."

"I don't think he killed Whiley, either, but I don't think I can save him, -Donna. I ... I probably shouldn't have taken the case in the first place. Maybe with another lawyer Donna ut a hand on Peter's shoulder. "You're doing p a great job. You can't blame yourself because the state's witnesses are saying things that hurt Gary."

Peter felt awful. Donna had so much faith in him, but she wasn't a lawyer who would know how poor a job he was really doing. He could no longer hide the truth from himself.

"I can blame myself. I had no business taking on this case. Amos Geary was right. He said I would screw it up and I have. I'm no criminal lawyer. I'm no lawyer at all."

"That's not true. You've worked harder than anyone.

You've done a wonderful job."

Donna was so trusting. Peter felt sick.

"There's something I have to tell you. It's about why I came to Whitaker. I ... I didn't choose to leave Hale, Greaves. I was fired. I was helping out in a big personal injury case my father was trying. Right before we went to court, he had a heart attack. Dad told me to ask for a mistrial, but I wanted to show him and everyone at the firm that I was a great trial attorney, so I lied to the judge and said that Dad wanted me to finish the trial.

"The case was so easy that a first-year, law student could have won it. It took a real genius to screw it up, but I did and..

.-and this poor woman.. ." Peter shook 4 1f) his head. "You should have seen her, Donna. She had nothing. She was dirt poor with five kids to raise by herself and then she became this cripple. Then, the worst thing happened. She got me for her attorney and I destroyed any hope she and her kids had in one afternoon.

And now I'm doing the same thing to Gary."

"You're being too hard on yourself."

Peter looked directly at Donna.

"When I took your brother's case, I didn't even think about him. All I was thinking about was how famous I'd be if I won. I didn't care enough about him to think of what might happen if I screwed up his case the way I did Mrs. Elliot's."

"You care for him now, though, don't you?" Donna asked quietly.

"I do. I admire Gary. He's a much better person than I am. I don't think he would ever intentionally hurt anyone. He thinks about the feelings of other people. When he has to do a job, he tries to do his very best. He's not like me at all and I wish I could be a little more like him."

Donna reached up and touched Peter's cheek.

"I don't know what kind of person you were in Portland. I just know you now. I can see how much you care for Gary." Donna paused and looked down. "I know what you did for me."

Peter wanted to take Donna in his arms, but he couldn't take advantage of her when she was so vulnerable. Donna must have realized how close they were to doing something they would regret, because she pulled her hand back. For a moment, they sat on the couch in an awkward silence, then, Donna said, "I ... I paced off those distances for you this afternoon."

"Great," Peter answered in a shaky voice, relieved that the danger was over. "What did you find out?"

"I started at the Stallion and walked to Gary's house.

It's a little over three quarters of a mile and it took me about twelve minutes. Then, I went back to the bar and continued to the park entrance. It's one-quarter mile from the Stallion to the entrance, so it took me sixteen minutes to walk from the house to the park."

"That means Gary got home at about eleven-twelve if he left the Stallion at eleven and walked straight home."

"if he was walking my speed," Donna corrected. "He could have run or walked faster."

"Okay, but he's still got to take some time trying to find a weapon."

Peter worked the numbers in his head.

"Damn. It could still work out. If he leaves his house around eleven-twelve, follows Whiley and gets to the park around eleven thirty-six ... If Howell and his girlfriend left the park around eleven thirty-five and Whiley passed by a little after ..

"I've been thinking about that, Peter. If it's only a quarter mile from the Stallion to the main park entrance, and it takes about fifteen minutes for the average person to walk one mile, it would only take about three minutes to walk a quarter of a mile. If Whiley left the bar around eleven-twenty, she should have reached the entrance to the park before those kids."

"You're right! That would put her there around eleven twenty-five. But Howell said that Jessie made a wish at the well around eleven-thirty and the body wasn't there. Where was Whiley between eleven-twenty, when she left the Stallion, and eleven thirty-five, when Howell and Freeman left the park?"

"Did you ask Howell and his girlfriend if they saw anyone when they were in the park?"

"Yeah. They don't remember spotting anyone, but they were probably too wrapped up in each other to notice anything. Tell me about the rest of your results."

"Gary could have made it to the Ponderosa from the park in fifteen to twenty minutes, so he could have killed Whiley around eleven thirty-seven and made it to the bar by eleven fifty-five."

"Did you go from the park to the storm drain where the hatchet was found and back to the Ponderosa?"

"Yes. The storm drain is near the campus. We're talking a little under two -miles. Even if Gary ran it in a seven-minute mile, there's no way he could kill Whiley after eleven thirty-five, ditch the hatchet and make it to the Ponderosa by midnight."

"So he'd have to hide the hatchet somewhere before going to the Ponderosa, then pick it up later. That sounds a little complicated for someone of Gary's intelligence but I'll have to ask Elmore Brock about that."

Peter stood up. He looked depressed.

"I've got to go back to the office to work on my closing argument. You keep working on character witnesses for the penalty phase. I hope we don't need them, but I'm afraid we will."

Chapter TWENTY-SIX.

They came for Gary just as the sun was setting. His heart fluttered like the wings of a trapped bird. In the back of the police car, the city fading in the gathering darkness, Gary prayed, "Please, God, please, God," over and over. He promised God he would be good. He promised he would never make Mom and Dad ashamed or mad again. Please, God.

The reporters were waiting on the courthouse steps, cigarettes dangling, cameras resting on the concrete slabs, engaged in loose conversation or lost to the stillness of sundown, until someone spotted the police car.

All at once, they were up, jerked into action like marionettes. When the car doors opened, the mob pressed in, jabbing at him with microphones and screaming questions at him. Gary cringed in a corner of the backseat.

The sheriff's deputies cleared a path as Gary struggled out of the car, the task more difficult because he was handcuffed. He looked for a friendly face and saw Peter pushing through the crowd.

"What did they say" Gary asked, as Peter helped him up the ste s.

p "I don't know. They have to read the verdict in court.

The jurors are waiting in the jury room."

"Are Mom and Dad here?" Gary asked as they took the elevator up to the courtroom, surrounded by sheriff's deputies.

"Yes. I called them, first thing. Donna is with them."

The guards escorted Peter and Gary to the defense table. As they took off Gary's handcuffs, a stir in the back of the courtroom signaled Becky O'Shay's entrance. She looked grim and intentionally avoided eye contact with Peter and his client. The bailiff scurried into the judge's chamber to tell him that all of the parties were in the courtroom. Moments later, the bailiff emerged from chambers and entered the jury room.

When the door to the jury room opened, the undercurrent of noise in the courtroom stopped. There was a rus hi.

tie of clothing and a tap of heels as the jurors worked their way to their seats in the jury box. Peter searched their faces for a clue to the verdict, but the jurors would not look at him or O'Shay. Beside Peter, Gary twisted anxiously in his seat.

As soon as the jurors were settled, the bailiff pressed a button at the side of his desk to signal the judge.

Everyone stood when judge Kuffel entered the courtroom. When he was seated, the judge turned toward the jury box.

"Ladies and gentlemen, have you reached a verdict?"

Em st Clayfield, a farmer, stood slowly. He held a folded sheet of paper in his hand.

"We have," Clayfield answered grimly.

"Please hand your verdict to the bailiff," the judge commanded.

Clayfield held out his hand and the bailiff took the verdict form from him and gave it to the judge. Kuffel unfolded it and read it once. Then he looked at Gary.

"Will the defendant please stand," he said in a subdued voice. Gary jumped up, but Peter felt dizzy from tension and his legs were weak. It took an effort to get to his feet.

"Omitting the caption," judge Kuffel said, "the verdict reads as follows: "We the jury, being duly impaneled and sworn, find the defendant GUILTY as charged."'

There was complete silence for a moment, then Peter heard Alice Harmon moan as Donna softly cried out, "No." He was looking down at the courtroom floor and did not see the wide smile of satisfaction on Becky O'Shay's face. A babble of voices filled the air.

judge Kuffel gaveled for silence, then asked, "Do you want the ury polled, Mr. Hale?"

Yes," Peter managed. He touched Gary's shoulder and slumped down in his seat as the judge asked each juror if he or she agreed with the verdict.

"What happened?" Gary asked.

"They found you guilty, Gary," Peter said. "They think you killed that girl."

Gary looked stunned. He rose slowly to his feet and stared at the judge. The guards started forward.

"I didn't do it," Gary said. The judge stopped polling the jury and said, "Please sit down, Mr. Harmon."

"I didn't hurt that girl," Gary cried out, his voice breaking.

"Mr. Harmon," the judge repeated as the guards drew closer.

"I'm a good boy," Gary wailed. "I want to go home."

Peter stood and placed a hand on Gary's shoulder.

Behind him he could hear Donna's sobs.

"I wanna go home. I want my mamma. I don't like that jail. I wanna go home."

Peter wrapped his arms around Gary and held him.

Gary's body shook as he took gigantic breaths and wailed like a confused and frightened child.

777 Gary had been transferred to the security block in the Whitaker jail as soon as the guilty verdict was received.

It consisted of a row of fifteen narrow cells. Each cell was wide enough for a bunk and a bunk's width of floor snace. At the back of the cell was a toilet. Outside the row of cells was an area where the inmates could take their only exercise by walking back and forth along the bars. A color television was affixed to the bars high up, in the middle. The guards controlled the programs and the viewing hours. Gary hated his narrow cell. It was like a coffin.

Entry to the security block was made through a sally port. Gary heard the grating sound of the sally port door sliding open and strained through the bars of his cell to see the visitor. When Peter was safely inside the sally port, the outer door slid shut and the guard opened the inner door electronically. The other inmates were locked down while Peter visited. They stared as he walked by.

Life on the block was so dull that any change in routine was as great a diversion as a Broadway show.

Gary's cell door was operated from the same master control that opened the sally port gates. When Peter was in front of the cell, the guard opened it and Peter stepped inside. He had planned on a cheery greeting but Gary looked so sad that all he could manage was "Hi, Gary" In a voice so subdued that he wasn't certain he had even said the words aloud.

"Can I go home, Peter?"

Peter ignored the question.

"Sit down, Gary. There are some things we have to discuss."

Gary sat on the bunk and Peter joined him. There was no other place to sit in the cell, except the toilet, which had no lid.

"You're going to have to stay in this cell for a while."

"Why? Why can't I go back to my other cell? That cell was bigger."

"That cell was for when you weren't convicted. Now you are. The penalty phase of your trial will start next week and the sheriff is afraid You might try to escape, so he wants you here."

"I won't try to escape, Pete. I promise. Tell the sheriff I won't tr to escape."

"I did tell him, but he has rules he has to follow if a person is convicted. You know about rules, right, Gary?

if there are rules, you have to follow them."

Gary looked glum. "I guess if it's the rule, he has to follow that rule."

"Right. Now I have something serious we have to talk about, so listen hard."