A Score to Settle. Kara Lennox

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      “How can you know it’s not Gables? Look at it from my perspective, Daniel. I am as sure as I’ve ever been that Christopher Gables committed the murder of Frank Sissom. You can’t argue away those fingerprints. If trace evidence links this murder to another, then Christopher might well be involved in the previous murder, as well. It only makes sense.”

      It made no sense at all.

      “Would you like me to give you an explanation for the fingerprints?” Daniel asked.

      “Oh, this I’ve got to hear.”

      Daniel had given this a lot of thought. Because, unlike Jamie, he knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that he hadn’t killed anyone, yet his prints had been found on a murder weapon.

      “Christopher used the knife for something else—hours, days, even months prior to the murder. So long as no one else touches the knife, the prints remain intact.

      “The real murderer then uses an identical knife to commit the crime. Wearing gloves, he smears some blood on the knife bearing Christopher’s prints and places it near the body. Voilà, a perfect frame-up.”

      “The medical examiner matched the knife to the wound,” she argued.

      Daniel opened his briefcase, rifled through it until he came up with a page of the trial transcript with some testimony highlighted in yellow.

      “‘The wound on Mr. Sissom’s neck is consistent with a Messermeister Meridian Elite eight-inch chef’s knife—the knife found near his body.’ Do you recognize that testimony, Jamie?”

      She closed her eyes for a moment. “Yes.”

      “‘…is consistent with…’ doesn’t mean the same as ‘exact match,’ does it?”

      “Please, I’m not on trial here. You’ve made your point. The murder could have been committed with an identical knife.”

      “You have no idea how many nights I lie awake, thinking about how my prints ended up on a murder weapon. I had no conscious memory of using the knife that killed my partner. I’m not a chef, and I spent little time in the kitchen.”

      “So how do you explain it?”

      “I tried to think of the things I might use a knife for. And here’s what I came up with. I might have used a knife to open a package. Not the day of the murder, but perhaps weeks earlier. I had a penknife I kept in my pocket for such things, because the restaurant received packages all the time. But I could have mislaid it and picked up whatever was handy.”

      Daniel could almost see the gears turning in Jamie’s head as she mulled over his theory.

      “Christopher wasn’t a chef, either,” she finally said. “Our theory was that Christopher confronted Frank in the kitchen, knowing ahead of time he would have his choice of murder weapons.”

      “I’d like to talk to him,” Daniel said. “See if he has any memory of touching that knife for an innocent purpose.”

      “I can answer that for you. He said he used it to cut up an apple for lunch that day. Which was an obvious lie, because he always ate something off the menu for his lunch, and at least three witnesses saw him eating fajitas.”

      “It was a lie, I’ll grant you that. Probably concocted on the spur of the moment out of fear and desperation. Have you ever been interrogated, Jamie?”

      “No, but I’ve witnessed many police interviews and watched loads of video.”

      “That’s not the same. Until you’re locked in that room with a couple of mean-eyed cops, pointing fingers at you, shouting at you, playing head games with you—you have no idea what it’s like. You are tempted to say anything, no matter how untrue, just to get those guys to leave you alone.”

      “Did you?” Jamie asked, not without compassion.

      “I didn’t. But I was still secure in the belief that my father and his influence and money would straighten everything out. Christopher didn’t have that to fall back on.

      “I submit that he told that lie because he was terrified. And his lawyer coached him to continue the lie rather than admit to it.”

      Jamie digested the story some more.

      Daniel gave her a few moments of silence before he pressed his argument. “Raleigh, our chief legal counsel, has put in the paperwork for a face-to-face interview with Christopher. I’d like you to go with her to the prison.”

      “Raleigh? Why not you?”

      “Prison officials have to grant an interview for a death-row inmate with his attorney of record. I’m not an attorney.”

      “Daniel, I know how Project Justice operates. Your people conduct interviews with prisoners on death row all the time, often without an attorney present.”

      “It wouldn’t work this time.”

      “I submit,” she said, reflecting his own verbiage back to him, “that you are not the best person to argue on Christopher’s behalf. Not only are you seriously biased because of the similarities between the crimes, but your high profile—by your own admission—makes it difficult for you to move about comfortably in public situations.

      “So why don’t you assign this case to one of your people. Full-time. It will be easier on everyone.”

      “My ‘serious bias,’ as you put it, makes me uniquely qualified to fight passionately for Christopher’s freedom.”

      “Then don’t you think you’re the best one to interview him?”

      She was right. And yet…the thought of walking into that prison—the very same prison where Daniel had been incarcerated—was abhorrent to him.

      “If I agree, will you go with me? Because, as the prosecutor of this case, you also are uniquely qualified to shoot down any half-baked theories. You know what will and won’t fly in a courtroom before a judge.”

      “I’ll have to clear it with my boss.”

      And she’d already told him: her boss hated the idea of reopening this case.

      “I’ll set something up for next week. That should give you a chance to clear your schedule.”

      “I’ll send the metal shavings for further analysis. What’s the name of your lab?”

      “PrakTech Laboratories. They’re certified by the county, so that shouldn’t be a problem. Of course, Project Justice will pick up the bill.”

      She shook her head, firmed her lips. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. I can’t believe I’ve let you talk me into this. In the end, I’ll probably trash my career, and for what? Christopher Gables isn’t going to walk unless another suspect turns himself in and confesses.”

      He felt for her. He really did. “You’re doing this because a man’s life is at stake. You’re a good person, and you don’t like the thought of prosecuting an innocent man any СКАЧАТЬ