Free Innocence by David Hosp Page B

there. There are too many questions. All we’re looking for are answers, and the DNA evidence in the prosecution’s possession can provide those answers.”
    Cavanaugh was silent on the bench.
    “Your Honor,” Jackson began, but Cavanaugh held up a hand to cut him off.
    “Be quiet, Mr. Jackson. Unless you feel you can provide an adequate justification for why the police never dealt with the scratches at trial.” Jackson shut his mouth. Cavanaugh leaned back uncomfortably in his large black leather chair, looking first up at the high courtroom ceiling and then down at Finn. “Congratulations, Mr. Finn, you’ve piqued my curiosity. I’m going to give you your DNA sample.”
    “Your Honor!” Jackson objected.
    “Simmer down, Mr. Jackson. I’ve got good news for you, too.” He addressed Finn. “I’m concerned about the viability of this evidence. It may very well be too old or too spoiled to be of any value. I’m not willing to suggest that the Commonwealth is responsible for keeping all the evidence from all of its cases pristine indefinitely. As a result, while I’ll allow you access to whatever there is, I am in no way saying that I will or will not order a new trial based solely on the results of DNA testing.” He leaned over and looked closely at Finn. “How long will the DNA testing take?”
    Finn had no idea. He looked over at Dobson.
    “The testing itself takes a day or two, but there’s a backlog in getting the tests run. Two weeks if it’s rushed, Your Honor,” Dobson said.
    “Very well. Gentlemen, it appears that you have two weeks.” The judge looked at his calendar. “I’m scheduling a hearing for Monday, December twenty-fourth. Christmas Eve. By then I expect that you’ll have some reasonable answers for me. One of you will have quite a Christmas present.” He looked at Finn again. “I want to make sure I’m being clear, though, Mr. Finn. DNA testing alone is not going to cut it in my courtroom. Until you offer me some explanation as to why your client’s fingerprints were on Officer Steele’s gun, and why the eyewitness testimony implicated Mr. Salazar, your client will stay in jail.”
    Chapter Seve n
    Finn and Dobson stood in the hallway outside the courtroom, wait
    ing for the elevator. Neither would look at the other.
    “At least we got the DNA evidence,” Dobson said.
    “Yeah,” Finn said. “A Pyrrhic victory is better than none at all, I suppose.”
    “You never know. We’ve got two weeks to see what we can find.”
    Finn gave the younger lawyer an incredulous look. “You’re kidding, right? Look, Dobson, you seem like a pretty good guy, and I’m sure you’re excited to be out here ‘fighting for justice’ or whatever it is you think we’re doing. But you really need to get a grip on the reality of our situation.”
    “Which is?”
    “Which is that we just lost, and there’s virtually no chance that Salazar’s getting out of jail. Did you hear what Cavanaugh said?” Finn threw his thumb over his shoulder back toward the courtroom. “He said that even if the DNA evidence comes back and doesn’t match Salazar, he’s still not going to order a new trial. Unless we get Officer Steele to recant her testimony, and we come up with a reasonable theory as to why Salazar’s fingerprints were on Steele’s gun, your boy’s gonna die behind bars. And guess what? Neither of those things is going to hap
    pen.”
    “So what? You just give up now?”
    “Did you have a better plan?”
    “You better believe it. We start our own investigation. We go over everything in that file, and we see what we come up with. We’ve got two weeks, and if we spend enough time on this, who knows what we’ll come up with.”
    “I do, Mark. We’ll come up with nothing. And in the meantime, my bills will pile up so high, I’ll probably have to shut down my office. You see, I don’t have a large law firm that’s willing to pay me for a few weeks and write off my time to good