The Wrong Gun

23

Robert Vaulding’s opening was showy. Vaulding was young, handsome and personable, and he knew it and he used it. Most prosecutors would have been solemn and ponderous, emphasizing the gravity of the charge of murder. Vaulding kept it light. He actually smiled during his opening statement, played to the jury, and implied without actually saying it that they were in for a show. Yeah, it’s murder, Vaulding’s attitude seemed to say, and it’s a serious charge. But I didn’t do it and you didn’t do it, and I’m here to tell ya, we’re gonna get a kick out of pinning it on the guy who did.

“So you see,” Vaulding said, “this is a very simple crime.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Elemental. It almost insults my intelligence to have to argue it.

“But at the same time, it is absolutely fascinating and it has elements that merit our attention.

“What are they? Well, let’s start with the two guns. There was a gun found next to the body. A Colt.45 with the initial R carved in the handle. A gun that experts will testify was the original, genuine article once owned by Pistol Pete Robbins, a notorious gunslinger from the Old West. A gun we can show was owned by Russ Timberlaine. There it was, right next to the dead body.”

Vaulding turned, shrugged his shoulders and smiled. “Simple crime, yes? But ballistics will show that this was not the murder weapon.

“And what was the murder weapon?” Vaulding shrugged again. “What else? An identical gun, a Colt.45 with the letter R carved in the handle, obviously a duplicate of the original gun, but one that experts will testify was not authentic and was mocked up only recently to resemble the original gun.”

Vaulding paused, looked around the courtroom again. “And where was this gun found? In Russ Timberlaine’s bedroom. On Russ Timberlaine’s night stand. In Russ Timberlaine’s holster.”

Vaulding paused, let that sink in. “And how did it get there?” Vaulding turned and pointed. “According to Russ Timberlaine himself, he put that gun and holster there. He took it off after he came upstairs after the auction that afternoon and after, by his own admission, firing the gun. A gun numerous witnesses will testify he was wearing after the auction.”

Vaulding paused, pursed his lips. “I’ve already laid out the events leading up to the murder, but let me summarize them briefly. Russ Timberlaine went to the auction with the express purpose of buying a gun. A gun he knew Melvin Burdett would bid on if he knew he wanted it. Therefore, he enlisted the aid of Henry Crumbly to bid on the gun for him. Nonetheless, Burdett outbid Crumbly. In Russ Timberlaine’s opinion, the only way Burdett could have known Crumbly was actually bidding on the gun for him was if his expert, Potter, who had appraised the gun for him, had tipped him off.”

Vaulding held up his hand. “The merits of this contention are irrelevant. The defense may argue, and quite rightly so, that Burdett could have learned this information from another source, or could have surmised it himself from the way events transpired. That’s wholly irrelevant. The fact is, whatever the merit of the contention, Russ Timberlaine believed it to be true. And because he believed it to be true, he was incensed. His own expert, Jack Potter, had betrayed him. He stormed out of the auction at that point in full cowboy regalia. Including the holster and the gun. By his own admission, he fired that gun. And the next time we see that gun, it is discovered in Timberlaine’s holster on Timberlaine’s night table in Timberlaine’s bedroom by the police immediately after the murder.”

Vaulding held up his finger. “Our ballistics expert will testify that gun was the murder weapon. The gun Timberlaine was wearing at the auction. The gun Timberlaine claims he fired off after the auction. The gun that was found immediately after the murder on Timberlaine’s night table.”

Vaulding paused, smiled again. “Now then, this is a murder trial. The judge will instruct you that in a murder trial, the burden of proof is on the prosecution. It is up to us to prove the defendant guilty beyond a reasonable doubt.”

Vaulding turned, gestured to the defense table where Steve Winslow sat next to Russ Timberlaine. “The defense attorney may argue that this is a case of circumstantial evidence. In other words, there is no eyewitness. No one saw Russ Timberlaine shoot a bullet into the head of Jack Potter. You are required to deduce that happened from the evidence that we are going to lay before you. We, the prosecution, are going to show that the circumstances lead to the inescapable conclusion that Russ Timberlaine killed Jack Potter. That is what is meant by circumstantial evidence. Now, as I’m sure you are aware, it is necessary to prove Russ Timberlaine guilty beyond a reasonable doubt. Now, in a case involving circumstantial evidence, as I am sure counsel for the defense will point out, it is necessary that the circumstances that we lay out for you are not open to any interpretation other than the guilt of the defendant. If the defense can come up with a reasonable explanation for these circumstances, then you must find the defendant not guilty.”

Vaulding stopped, looked around, and this time actually grinned broadly. “To which I say, be my guest. As prosecutor, I intend to lay out the circumstances surrounding this crime. When I am done, if the attorney for the defense can come up with a reasonable explanation other than the guilt of the defendant, well, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, you won’t have to return a verdict of not guilty, because at that moment, I, myself, will personally move for a dismissal of the case.”

Vaulding shook his head. “But I assure you, that is not going to happen. He is guilty, he can be shown to be guilty, he can be proven to be guilty beyond a reasonable doubt. I would even say beyond a shadow of a doubt. And if any other explanation exists, I for one am the first one to want to hear it. But I am confident that I am not going to. Just as I am confident that when I am done, you are going to return a verdict of guilty as charged.

“I thank you.”

Vaulding bowed to the jurors, walked back to his table and sat down.

Judge Hendrick leaned forward on the bench. Elderly, bald and bespectacled, Hendrick provided a nice counterpoint to the young Vaulding. “Does the defense wish to make an opening statement?” Judge Hendrick asked.

All eyes in the courtroom turned to Steve Winslow. The jurors, in particular, looked at him expectantly. His reputation, or at least his flair for the dramatic had preceded him. This was where he was supposed to shine.

In the back of the courtroom, Tracy Garvin bit her lip. Steve had gone over his opening statement with her, so Tracy was the one person in that courtroom who knew what had just happened. She took a breath, scrunched forward on the edge of her seat. What the hell was Steve going to do now?

The problem was, Vaulding had stolen his thunder. That whole speech about circumstantial evidence and a hypothesis other than that of guilt-that was the defense attorney’s speech to make. But Vaulding had made it for him. By doing so, he had undermined him and cut the legs out from under him. Steve Winslow couldn’t go over the same ground again.

And Vaulding had challenged him to come up with a reasonable explanation. Almost dared him. Steve couldn’t meet that challenge, couldn’t accept that dare. Even if he had a reasonable explanation, which he didn’t, if he tried it now, it would be like taking the dare. It would be like two schoolboys fighting.

That was it, Tracy realized. That was the real problem. Vaulding was young. Young, dramatic and unconventional. In short, Vaulding was just a better dressed, straighter version of Steve Winslow. As a result, there was no real contrast between Vaulding and Winslow as there was between Vaulding and the judge.

And as a result, Tracy realized, there was nothing Steve could do. He’d just have to grit his teeth, smile and announce that the defense would reserve its argument until it began putting on its case.

In the front of the courtroom, Steve Winslow paused, took a breath.

Judge Hendrick had a reputation for being rather crotchety, brusque and generally moving things along. He frowned now, said, “Well? Does the defense wish to make a statement or not?”

Steve Winslow looked up and smiled. “The defense does, Your Honor.”