Burners (14 page)

“Jack, are you ready to tell us what you actually did and did not see?”

“Yes.” I took a deep breath, let it out slow. “One of the tricks attorneys use is to only let witnesses say what suits their case. Good attorneys,” I purposely glanced at Lipscomb, “will often phrase questions to make it seem like witnesses said something that they didn’t.”

Chapa nodded. “You seemed agitated about the duffel bag and the gasoline cans.”

“I was. I did see Tony with the duffel bag. But I never saw the gas cans. I was there for the entire arrest. The bag was definitely not opened at that time.”

“So Officer James is lying?”

“Emily,” I turned to the court reporter. “Can you read back James’ testimony in regard to the bag?”

Emily pressed a few buttons. “Lipscomb -
Did you then check the contents of his duffel bag?
James -
We did.
Lipscomb -
What did you find?
James -
Two empty gasoline cans.
”

I shrugged. “I can’t say if Officer James is lying. He may have found those cans later. But I never saw them. And two full gas cans weigh a lot. We’re talking six pounds a gallon.”

Chapa raised an eyebrow. “You know how much gas weighs?”

“I drive a Nova with a broken gas gauge. I’ve done my share of hauling around gas cans. Can you check how big those cans are, Alex?”

Chapa nodded again. This seemed to be getting good to him. He strolled to the evidence table and picked one up.

“Two and a half gallons each,” he said, reading the side.

“So that’s thirty pounds. And when Tony rushed past me, it didn’t look like he had thirty pounds of anything in his bag.”

“So what if they weren’t full?” This from Lebanon.

“Those cans do not belong to me, or my son,” Carlos said, shaking his head.

Chapa turned to Tony. “Is that true?”

The old bailiff, who’d looked so forlorn since his gun was taken, cleared his throat loudly. “Uh, I should probably swear him in before he answers.”

“Fine,” Carlos said. “Do it.”

“No!” Lebanon yelled, but no one paid attention.

The bailiff plodded to Tony with the court bible. “Put your left hand on the book and raise your right hand. Do you swear to tell the truth?”

“Yes.” Tony looked back to Chapa. “I never saw those cans before. Papa says metal cans are dangerous. They can strike something, cause a spark. The only cans we have around his shop are the plastic kind.”

Chapa, apparently curious, clanged the cans together.

Wait… clanged the cans?

Oh, hell, how did I miss that?

Chapa then gave me a look that told me we were both on the same page.

“Emily, can you read back my testimony about when I first saw Tony?”

She pressed more buttons. “Daniels -
A minute before entering the bar, a teenage male ran by us on the sidewalk. He actually bumped me, and dropped his duffel bag. I made eye-contact with him as he picked it up.
”

“He dropped his duffle bag,” I said, triumphantly.

“Did you drop your duffel bag, Tony?” Chapa asked.

“Yes. I almost ran into the lady, uh, Officer Daniels, and my bag fell off and hit the sidewalk.”

“What was in the bag, Tony?” I asked.

“My work clothes. My uniform and work boots. I was late.”

“What does it matter if the bag was dropped or not?” Lebanon was close to whining.

Chapa smiled at me and I knew he understood what I was thinking. He lifted the bag until it was waist high, then let it go.

The cans hit the floor with an echoing CLANG!

“When the defendant dropped his bag in front of me,” I said, addressing the jury. “It didn’t make a sound.”

  
 

I
’d noticed the noise the cans had made earlier, but had not put together what it meant until Jack laid it all out. It was obvious the kid never had those cans in his possession.

 Now the question was who did.

I was almost certain I knew the answer, but time was running short. Carlos seemed to have calmed down some, but the two unarmed cops in the room were not going to wait forever to make their move. Especially now that they had skin in the game.

There were a few more questions I needed to ask Jack, and I was about to when Malvo suddenly stood, displaying more energy than I’d seen from him before.

“I need to go relieve myself,” he said and started to leave the bench.

“You will sit down right now.” Carlos wasn’t calm anymore.

“I told you, I have to take a piss.”

“And I have the gun and I told you to sit down.”

Sensing that something very bad was about to happen, I walked to the bench and tried to reason with the man.

“Your Honor, if you could just hold on—”

“I have a goddamned kidney stone and I’m extremely uncomfortable. So I’m walking out of here and—”

Some people can’t be reasoned with.

“Sit your tired ass down, Your Honor,” I said, raising my voice. Then locked eyes with Malvo and whispered, “Before you wind up getting shot. Which is exactly what’s going to happen if you try to leave.”

He looked at Carlos, then back at me, grimaced, nodded, and sat down.

I turned my attention back to Jack, who gave me a
nicely done
look. At least that’s what I think it was.

“Now, Lieutenant, you testified that you had been on the scene throughout the entire arrest.”

“That’s right.”

“In fact, you were nearby during the entire event, from before the fire began until Tony was taken away.”

“Yes. As I stated earlier, I noticed that everyone in the bar was rushing for the door, so I followed.”

“And how much time would you say passed from when you became aware of the fire until it was put out?”

Jack appeared to consider it for a moment. “The fire department got there in a hurry and had it under control fairly quickly, but it took longer to get it out entirely.”

Lebanon nearly jumped out of his chair to blurt out his latest idea. “He stashed the cans!”

Jack shook her head. “There wasn’t anywhere for him to hide two gas cans. I know, I went by there yesterday to check the place out.”

“You did some investigating on your own? Without jurisdiction?” Emmanuel Lewis said, sounding nothing like Webster.

“I walked around the block. The shops on either side of Laserquick are attached, so there are no alleys to stash anything. The storefront has no bushes, no benches, not even a fire hydrant—that’s two doors to the east.”

“What about around back?” Lebanon demanded.

“The only hiding place behind the shop is a Dumpster.”

Lebanon put his hands on his hips. “And is the esteemed, big city lieutenant telling the court that she actually went Dumpster diving?”

“That would be tough, considering the Dumpster, along with all the others behind the shops, had a lock on it.”

“Now that we’ve got that cleared up,” I said, glaring at Lebanon who seemed to get the message and sat down. “Back to the scene of the crime. Lieutenant, how quickly did they get the body out of the building?”

“It didn’t take them long at all. As soon as they had the fire under control, for the most part, three firefighters rushed in and pulled the deceased out a minute later.”

“Did you see the body?”

“From across the street, yes.”

“Was the deceased burned in any way?”

“Not that I could tell, but again, I was across the street.”

I turned toward Officer James, who was still trying to find a comfortable way to sit on the floor. Or maybe he was worried about getting his pants dirty.

“Was the body burned?”

He just stared at me. No emotion. No response.

“Answer his question.” Carlos was pointing the gun directly at James’ head. It was clear he blamed this man, more than anyone else, for his son being on trial.

“He died of smoke inhalation,” James mumbled.

“Could you repeat that,” I said, just because the guy was starting to seriously rub me the wrong way.

“Smoke inhalation, that’s what killed him.”

I turned to Lipscomb, matched her look of indignation.

“Is that right, prosecutor?”

“That was determined to be the cause of death, yes. The coroner isn’t supposed to testify until tomorrow, so he isn’t here to corroborate, but that’s what his report said.”

“Lieutenant Daniels, in your experience, how long does it take for a person to die from smoke inhalation?”

Jack thought about it, and for a moment I worried that she might not know the answer. Then I realized she was trying to put some pieces together.

“It can take as long as twenty or thirty minutes, or as little as five if the fire is really thick and smoky.”

“And would you say the Laserquick fire was thick and smoky?”

Jack shook her head. “No, not at all.”

“So do you think it’s possible that smoke inhalation was not the cause of the death?”

“Objection, calls for a conclusion.”

I’d had enough of Lebanon. “Honestly, dude, you gotta stop doing that.”

“I suppose it’s possible, but I really can’t speak to that since I only saw the deceased from a distance.”

True to form, Milledge had not said a word during the time I’d been working harder than he had to save his client. But now I needed his input.

“You said in your opening statement something about challenging the established cause of death. What were you referring to?”

Milledge, apparently surprised to be included in the proceedings, squared his shoulders and fumbled with some notes on the table.

“Well, we were hoping to find a way to introduce evidence that the deceased was already dead before the fire began. Judge Malvo had denied our request to do so during the pre-trial.”

“You didn’t prove any of it was relevant,” Malvo growled from behind the bench in a jagged, deathbed voice.

I ignored him, and so did Milledge.

“The victim had a huge gash across the back of his head. We have pictures.”

“Which was caused by his falling when he passed out or was struck by part of the ceiling collapsing,” James said while Milledge searched his files.

A few seconds later he produced the ghoulish photo of the back of Dennis Braun’s head. Sure enough, it showed a hole big enough to kill anyone. I handed the picture to Jack.