Free Double Tap by Steve Martini Page A

nods. “We’re gonna need a good wind at our back if we’re going to sell the jury on the notion that she seduced him.”
    “Anything else?” I ask.
    “That’s about it. Some details here and there. We have the original pathology report, but the medical examiner is still working on some details they haven’t released yet.”
    “What kind of details?”
    “They aren’t saying. They say they’re just about done. They’ll ship it over as soon as they’re finished. As soon as it comes I’ll get it to you.”
    Harry starts to package up some of the papers on the table. “One thing is clear,” he says. “The cops and the DA are putting all their eggs in Ruiz’s basket. From everything I’ve seen and read, he’s been their only theory of the case from the get-go. Never even looked at the possibility of a burglary. Ruiz is right about one thing.”
    “What’s that?”
    “He is very convenient,” says Harry. “The man touches every base. Who would have known where the gun was except him? Who else knew the security system was off? He was familiar with the house and the layout. Only thing they might be a little weak on is motive.”
    “Give them a few more days and I’m sure they’ll shore that up.”
    “You heard him at the jail. He could just be good at covering his emotions, but it sure didn’t sound like he was infatuated with her to me. I suppose the DA can try to make out a case of twisted lust, given the tape,” he says.
    “If they show it more than once, the judge is going to have to call a break so the jury can take a cold shower,” I tell him.
    “That does not a murder make,” says Harry.
    “Let’s hope not.” For the moment I am worried about the tight group to the head, one of the most damaging pieces of evidence, particularly since it came from Ruiz’s gun and given his background in the military as a shooter. “What about the gun?”
    “What about it?”
    “According to the police report, the firearm was taken from a drawer in a dresser upstairs, off the main floor, a guest room previously used by Ruiz when he was providing security. With all that glass behind glass, with expensive electronics in open view in the living room, why stop to run upstairs and rifle through the drawers of a dresser if your purpose is burglary? Unless of course you already know that what you’re looking for is in that particular drawer.”
    “You’re saying that the killer knew where the gun was?”
    “I’m saying that the purpose wasn’t burglary or robbery or any other crime involving property. The purpose was murder. And, based on the evidence, that’s what the prosecution is going to say: that gun was the first thing the killer went for.”
    “And of course who knew where the gun was kept.”
    Harry and I harmonize on this one: “Ruiz.”
    “We need to find out who else knew about the firearm. That’s the key. The wider the knowledge, the better off for us. If Ruiz showed it to anyone. If he told anyone where it was. If anyone else in the house knew about it. Put that at the top of your list: things to check out,” I tell him.
    He makes a note starting with Ruiz as soon as we can get to him at the jail. They are now in their second day of lock-down. From what we are reading in the paper and hearing at the courthouse, all of this is the result of a stabbing. They are now scouring cells looking for shivs, turning the bedding upside down and tapping the walls, looking for hollowed-out places carved in the concrete, pasted over with watered oatmeal, and colored with acrylic paints used by inmates in art classes: a favored hiding place because it is neutral, not tied to an inmate’s bunk or belongings. Life and death in the lockup.
    “Ruiz did tell us he made sure another employee was assigned whenever he slept over at Chapman’s house,” says Harry.
    If this is true, it cuts against the theory that he was trying to make time chasing after the victim. It augurs well for the defense that he