Free Witness to a Trial by John Grisham Page B

bars along the Florida Panhandle, along with a few lounges, liquor stores, and a strip club. Three months before the murders he had bought the bar where Junior stopped. He’d paid too much for it, but by then he knew Junior’s movements and had decided it was the perfect place.
    He was in court to observe the testimony from Spike, his employee, and to make sure that Spike stuck to the story of Junior arriving that day in a funk and acting weird. Though Junior usually limited himself to two or three beers, and had probably done so on that day, it was important to convey to the jury the image of a troubled man drinking heavily, a man so drunk he had collapsed outside the building. Junior’s blackout had little to do with alcohol, but that secret would be kept forever. The bar owner had arranged it all.
    Disguised and sitting in the back row, he observed Spike on the stand with a trace of smugness as the pieces of his neat little plot fell into place. He lived in the shadows of his own dark world, a place where hard cash was king and from where people had to be eliminated from time to time.

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    The fourth witness was a ballistics expert, name of Montgomery, from the state crime lab. He took the stand in a nice suit and dark tie and impressed everyone with his credentials. Four bullets were removed from the crime scene: two from the head of Son Razko, one from the head of Eileen Mace, and one from the mattress. That fourth one had entered her skull an inch above her right eyebrow, passed all the way through her brain, and made a ghastly exit wound that was about three inches in diameter. State’s Exhibits 8, 9, 10, and 11 were enlarged photos of the bullets. In technical terms Montgomery explained that the recovery of the bullets immediately revealed the make and model of the weapon; in this case, a Smith & Wesson .38-caliber revolver. With a large diagram, and acting much like the learned professor, he explained that as each bullet is fired it twists as it goes through the barrel, known in the business as “rifling.” This leaves microscopic marks and grooves on the bullet and allows an expert such as himself to determine which gun fired which bullet. He had no doubt that the weapon recovered from Junior’s truck fired the four bullets. State’s Exhibits 12, 13, 14, and 15 were the actual bullets themselves.
    The prosecutor handed Montgomery four spent cartridges. The expert told the jury that the four were recovered from the bedroom. Whoever fired them was in too big a hurry to collect them. Using a comparison microscope, he was able to determine that the four cartridges were fired from the same Smith & Wesson.
    Much of his testimony was technical, and while at first interesting, it soon became tiresome. He was the expert. If he said the bullets came from the gun in Junior’s truck, who could dispute him?
    State’s Exhibits 16, 17, 18, and 19 were the spent cartridges.
    The defense lawyer’s cross-examination of Montgomery was on the soft side. What could he really do? It was obvious what had happened in the bedroom.
    —
    The Defense Lawyer.
His name was Larry Swoboda, age thirty-one, an aspiring criminal defense lawyer from Panama City.
    Brunswick County had a public defender, a rather useless stiff who’d begged off, claiming some vague conflict of interest. The truth was he’d never touched a capital case and wanted to quit the job anyway. Judge McDover knew he was too inexperienced and appointed Swoboda, who initially had wanted the case. However, not long after he got it, he realized he was in way over his head.
    Like all criminal defense lawyers, Swoboda had already learned that almost all of his clients claimed to be innocent. Junior was no exception. Since their first meeting in jail, Junior had vehemently protested the charges. He was being framed in a perfect setup. He loved his wife, had never been unfaithful, and Son Razko was his friend. He had been making deliveries at the time they were murdered. He