The Wrong Gun

20

Steve Winslow was on his way out the front door when a young cop stopped him.

“Mr. Winslow?”

“Yeah?”

“Mr. Vaulding wants to see you.”

“Who?”

The young cop flushed slightly. “District Attorney Robert Vaulding.”

“Oh, that Vaulding,” Steve said.

The young cop gave him a look.

Steve shrugged. “Hey, I’m from Manhattan. What do I know? So where’s Vaulding?”

The young cop led Steve to the D.A.’s outer office, parked him in the corner and conferred in low tones with the officer at the desk. The officer picked up the phone and spoke into it, and moments later the door to the inner office opened, and a tall thin man in a three-piece suit said, “Mr. Winslow?”

“Yes.”

“Robert Vaulding. Please come in.”

Steve sized the man up on his way in the door. Vaulding was young, probably no older than Steve himself. His jet black hair was cut short and carefully groomed. His appearance was impeccable if not fastidious. Even his nails looked manicured. The impression Steve got was that, having gotten elected to the position of district attorney, Robert Vaulding had attempted to make up for his lack of years by disguising himself as a conservative old fart.

His smile, however, was still young, almost boyish. He grinned at Steve Winslow, said, “Sit down.”

“I’ll stand,” Steve said. “You can skip the ceremony, Vaulding. Why am I here?”

Vaulding’s smile became lopsided. “I heard you were direct.”

“You heard right. Cut the shit. What’s the story?”

“No story. I just thought we should talk.”

“Why?”

Vaulding frowned. “There’s no reason to be hostile.”

“Oh, yeah?” Steve said. “I thought the habit of burying a suspect went out in the forties or fifties.”

“Oh.”

“Oh, indeed. The cops and my client got lost somewhere between his place and here. An accident, I’m sure. And I’m sure anything he might have told them in the meantime is entirely coincidental. But I guess you wouldn’t know anything about that.”

Vaulding spread his hands wide. “What can I say? I’m sorry about that. But I assure you, Mr. Timberlaine’s rights were not violated in any way. He was perfectly aware of the fact he was under no obligation to speak, and anything he said was entirely of his own volition.”

“I’m sure he was,” Steve said, dryly. “That’s not the point, and you know it. A man who didn’t know any better was kept away from his attorney so the attorney couldn’t advise him to keep his mouth shut.”

Vaulding shrugged. “An unfortunate situation. But I happen to know Russ Timberlaine. Short of tying and gagging him, you think you could have kept him quiet?”

“Probably not.”

“There you are.”

“No, I’m not. Jesus Christ, you gonna argue like this in court, Vaulding? Yeah, the way we got the evidence was wrong, but what the hell, we’d have got it anyway, so what’s the difference?’”

“I admit the situation is unfortunate. I’m wondering if we can get beyond it for the moment.”

“Why?”

Vaulding took a breath. “I got a call this morning. From Harry Dirkson.”

“Oh? And what has the Manhattan district attorney got to do with life out here?”

“Absolutely nothing. But he heard about the Timberlaine case.”

“Oh?”

“And the fact you were his attorney.”

“You mean he had opinions about that?”

“I’ll say. Would it surprise you to learn Harry Dirkson does not hold you in the highest regard?”

“No. I would imagine he told you I was living poison, I was the kiss of death, you should have nothing to do with me.”

“Or words to that effect,” Vaulding said, grinning. “Well, without admitting he said anything like that, I think you get the picture.”

“So?”

Vaulding, who had remained standing when Steve did, now sat down at his desk, leaned back in his chair and cocked his head. “So, that’s all well and good, but I don’t have to buy it. I’ve followed some of your cases.” He grinned. “Not surprising. They’re hard to miss. Anyway, the way I see it, Dirkson’s got no beef coming. The people he was trying to prosecute happened to be innocent. Which is hardly your fault.”

Steve eyed Vaulding narrowly. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m trying to say you’re gonna get a fair shake here. We’re adversaries, yes, and I want to win. But not if it means convicting an innocent man.”

“How noble of you.”

Vaulding frowned. “You’re not making this particularly easy.”

“I’m pissed off and you know why. If you think a speech about your good intentions makes up for it, you’re wrong. That’s for starters. The clincher is, I still don’t know why I’m here.”

“I told you-”

“Bullshit. Cut the commercial, Vaulding. What do you want?”

Vaulding took a breath. “All right. For one thing, your client is a wealthy man. I hate to inconvenience him, and I want to do everything possible to expedite things and assure him a speedy trial. If that is also your intention, then we have no problem. If you were planning delays and postponements, we do.”

Steve Winslow looked at Vaulding a moment. “Of course. Bail. You got a jail full of minority defendants can’t make bail on a whole bunch of chickenshit charges. You’re a politician, you gotta keep the masses happy, the last thing you need is some rich white defendant walking around free on a murder charge.”

Vaulding smiled. “Nice deduction. It’s not the type of thing I’d tell the press, but since it’s just you and me talking here, let’s say you’re right.”

“That would piss me off,” Steve said. “If it’s in my client’s interest to push for bail, I’ll push for bail.”

“Of course you would,” Vaulding said. “In fact, the standard procedure would be to get him out on bail and stall like crazy. However, you have a reputation for the unorthodox. So I was thinking you might like to go right to court.”

“Again, it would depend on what’s in my client’s best interests.”

“Of course. I’m just telling you my preference so you know if you want to expedite matters you have that option.”

“That’s fine, but I know perfectly well what my options are and I’ll do whatever’s best for my client.”

Steve turned to go.

“Hang on, hang on,” Vaulding said. “That’s a minor matter. That’s not why I asked you in here. I want to discuss your participation in the case.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I mean your direct participation in the case. I’m referring to the fact you and your secretary found the body.”

“Oh, that,” Steve said.

“Yes, that. It may not be a first for you, but it’s a first for me. Defense attorneys do not find the body of the victim. It just isn’t done outside of story books.”

“I’m sorry to disillusion you.”

“It’s not just that,” Vaulding said. “It’s a problem in terms of procedure. I guarantee you there isn’t a judge in this county who’s going to look kindly on me calling the defense attorney as a witness for the prosecution.”

“Guess you have a problem,” Steve said.

“It’s your problem too, if the judge should rule you had to step down as counsel.”

“I would resist such a ruling.”

“Yeah, but would you win? Maybe on appeal, but even if you eventually do, the case drags on. And it isn’t going to please your client any if he’s not on bail.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed. “So the bail issue is tied up in this.”

“Not at all,” Vaulding said. “I just mentioned the effect on your client. But, no, they’re not related in the least.”

“So what’s your point?”

“If I call you as a witness, it’s going to make trouble. It could even get you removed from the case. I don’t want to do that. If you’re agreeable, I’d like to expedite matters so neither you nor your secretary would have to testify.”

“How would you do that?”

“As I understand it, after you found the body your secretary informed the butler-” Vaulding picked up a paper from his desk, glanced at it, “-that would be Martin Kessington-and he was the one who called the cops. Is that right?”

“Yeah. So?”

“I can use him instead. Him and Lieutenant Sanders. Between them I may not have to call you at all.”

“My recollection may not coincide with theirs.”

“Which you can bring out on cross-examination.”

“If I couldn’t, I might have to put myself on the stand.”

“If you have to, you have to. I don’t think you will. It’s a chance I’m willing to take.”

Steve looked at him. “Why, Vaulding? What’s the catch? Is this tied up in the bail issue after all?”

“Absolutely not,” Vaulding said. “I’m telling you straight out I know the judges here, and if you go on the stand there’s a good chance you get disqualified as counsel. I don’t want that to happen.”

“Why not?”

Vaulding smiled. “You have to ask me that? You’re good. In fact, you’re very good. You got a reputation. Top gun. Young sensation.” He jerked his thumb. “Dirkson hears you’re on the case, he calls me to warn me.”

“So?”

Vaulding cocked his head and grinned. “Well, guess what? I’m good too.”

Vaulding looked Steve right in the eye. He smiled, but his eyes were hard.

“I’m gonna beat you.”