“What kind of work was he doing?”
“That I cannot tell you. It would cost me my job, as it should.”
“Was he murdered because of his work?” I ask.
“I’ll be better able to answer that when I learn who did the murdering.”
I ask some more questions, trying without success to probe into the kind of work Timmerman was doing. If I can demonstrate to a jury that Timmerman was doing something involving dangerous people, then I have a better chance of demonstrating reasonable doubt.
I’m reasonably sure that Corvallis is telling the truth, but I decide to play my last card as a test. “Where does Thomas Sykes fit in with all this?”
Corvallis looks surprised. “Timmerman’s partner? As far as I know, he doesn’t fit in at all.”
I stand up and start sniffing the air. “Anybody smell any bullshit in here?”
“What does that mean?” he asks.
“It means that I know you are working with Sykes, but you just told me you aren’t. And I know that he called you the other day. So why are you telling me otherwise?”
Corvallis nods. “Sykes has been working with us for months; we’ve been using him to learn as much as we can about Timmerman. He’s still under instructions to call us if he learns anything. He told us about your discovery of his affair with Mrs. Timmerman.”
I nod; the explanation makes sense.
“Your turn,” says Corvallis. “Who murdered Timmerman?”
“Jimmy Childs.”
Corvallis doesn’t look surprised, nor does he ask who Jimmy Childs is. Obviously, he is familiar with the man. “How unfortunate for your client that he turned up dead.”
I nod. “You got that right.”
“Who hired him?” he asks.
“I have no idea. But he was paid half a million dollars for three hits.”
“Three?”
“Timmerman, his wife, and their dog.”
“Their dog?” Corvallis asks, again not showing any surprise.
“Yes, a Bernese mountain dog puppy, the descendant of a recently deceased champion.”
“And Childs was definitely targeting the dog?” Corvallis asks.
“Yes. Any idea why that would be?”
“I’m afraid that’s something I can’t answer.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“At the end of the day, does that matter?”
Actually, it does. Especially to me and Waggy. But I’m clearly not going to get any more out of Corvallis, at least not until I have something more to trade, so I look to end the meeting.
“Well, this has been a true joy,” I say. “Hard to believe it’s ending so soon.”
I expect a sarcastic retort from Corvallis, but he surprises me. “Why did you have lunch with Charles Robinson?”
“I have lunch with a lot of people.”
“I’m only asking you about one of them,” he says.
“He’s trying to get custody of a dog.”
“The dog Childs was sent to kill?”
I nod. “The very one.”
“Did he say why?”
“He wants to train him to become a champion show dog.”
“What did you say?”
“I said no, and he said, ‘See you in court.’ Why are you interested in Robinson?”
Corvallis looks at Cindy, then back at me, and smiles. “This has been a true joy,” he says. “Hard to believe it’s ending so soon.”
As soon as I get back to the house, I meet with Sam Willis and Kevin, instructing them to find out as much as they can about Charles Robinson. If the FBI is interested in him for reasons having nothing to do with Waggy, then I am as well.
Waggy and Tara sit in on the meeting, but they seem preoccupied with gnawing on a pair of rawhide chewies. If Waggy is familiar with Robinson, he doesn’t let on.
The only time Waggy looks up is when he finishes the chewie. He sees that we’re busy talking and Tara is still chomping away on hers. Since nobody is paying any attention to him, he starts rolling around on his back, playing some kind of weird game that only he understands. Every once in a while he rolls over and jumps to his feet, as if something has interrupted him. Then he flips back on to his back to resume the game.
Life for Waggy is never boring.
“IS THE DEFENSE READY?” is Hatchet’s question for me. The presiding judge asks that at the opening of every trial, and I have answered “yes” every time. And every single one of those times I have been lying.
No defense team, at least when I’ve been in charge of it, has ever been ready. I always want more time, more information, and more exculpatory evidence. But I never have it, so I just always answer “yes.”
I have coached and prepared Steven as well as I can for what is about to take place, and he claims to be ready. But he isn’t. He’s going to watch and listen as the state of New Jersey, using all its power, attempts to take his life and liberty away. No sane person can be fully ready for that.
“This is really a very simple case. Murder cases are not always like that. They can often be very complicated, with a lot of cross-currents, and conflicting motivations, and evidence that is not always clear-cut. But that’s not what we have here.”
This is how Richard Wallace begins his opening statement to the jury. Richard is not a powerful or particularly eloquent speaker, but he brings an authenticity to the process that makes juries want to believe him.