they do, you go to jail.”
“It would be nice to prove conclusively that I’m right.”
“It would be nice to win the lottery. I don’t expect it to happen, but it would certainly be nice.”
“Come on, Richard, just because you’re pissed at me doesn’t mean you can’t help. If I’ve really put you in such a bad position I would think you’d want to get out of it.”
“I’d love to get out of it. You just seem hell bent on making it impossible.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“I’d love for you to do nothing, but that’s like wishing for the moon. You’ve made such a mess of things it’s hard to know where to start.” Richard sighed. “Practicing law would be so easy if there weren’t any clients.”
Good. Richard was almost through beating me up and was slipping into lecture mode. Soon he might calm down enough to offer some advice. Or be willing to listen to some.
“About the gun,” I said. I hated to bring it up again, but it was the reason I came.
Richard looked at me as if I’d committed some social blunder by mentioning a taboo subject. “What about it?”
“It would be really nice if we could prove it had nothing to do with the crime.”
“Too bad we can’t.”
“Well, that’s the thing. If we could figure out a way to get a photograph of the fatal bullet—”
Richard exploded from his desk. “I don’t believe it! There’s no stopping you. Why bother with a jury trial? Why don’t you just confess?”
“Richard.”
“You’re not charged with this crime. Nothing connects you to this crime. As far as the police know, the two crimes have nothing to do with each other. But you want to hand them a connection readymade. Do you know what that means? That means I can’t plea bargain. In a worst-case scenario, if they wanted to get you for, say, obstruction of justice, in the first murder, I can’t take it, because then they’ll turn around and try you for the second. And they’ll be able to use the conviction from the first against you. In the second there will be no plea bargain, because they’ll be trying a convicted felon.”
“Richard—”
“And after they convict you the second time—and if they get you for anything the first time they damn well will the second time—that’s when they turn around and come after me. Though I certainly apologize from mentioning it in the midst of a conversation that is entirely about you.”
“Are you saying it can’t be done, or are you saying it’s inadvisable to try to do it?”
He shook his head. “Unbelievable.”
“Richard, I know it’s bad. That’s why I’m trying so desperately to get out of it. Everything I do seems to make it worse, but not doing anything seems suicidal. Not that I don’t think you’re going to do a crackerjack job defending me. But I don’t expect these cops to come up with any shred of evidence that doesn’t point to me.”
“I know,” Richard said. “It’s your storybook mentality. If I get you off, it won’t be good enough, because I didn’t find out who did it. Well, guess what? This is very likely one of those crimes that is never solved. Getting you off is the optimal result.”
“I know that.”
“I know you know that. The problem is you don’t act like you know that. Or you wouldn’t be asking me to get ahold of the fatal bullet.”
“Not the fatal bullet. Just a photograph of the fatal bullet.”
“I understand the concept. And it’s not gonna happen. Or I’m gonna get my bail bond back and put you in jail where you can’t get into any more trouble.”
“Can you do that?”
“It’s my money. I put it up. If I wanna surrender you and get it back, who’s gonna stop me?”
I wasn’t sure if Richard could actually do that or if he was bluffing, but it didn’t seem like a good time to find out.
“I’m kind of happy being on bail. Whaddya say we keep the status quo?”
“And you’ll stop hassling me about the fatal bullet?”
“Sure thing,
“It would be nice to prove conclusively that I’m right.”
“It would be nice to win the lottery. I don’t expect it to happen, but it would certainly be nice.”
“Come on, Richard, just because you’re pissed at me doesn’t mean you can’t help. If I’ve really put you in such a bad position I would think you’d want to get out of it.”
“I’d love to get out of it. You just seem hell bent on making it impossible.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“I’d love for you to do nothing, but that’s like wishing for the moon. You’ve made such a mess of things it’s hard to know where to start.” Richard sighed. “Practicing law would be so easy if there weren’t any clients.”
Good. Richard was almost through beating me up and was slipping into lecture mode. Soon he might calm down enough to offer some advice. Or be willing to listen to some.
“About the gun,” I said. I hated to bring it up again, but it was the reason I came.
Richard looked at me as if I’d committed some social blunder by mentioning a taboo subject. “What about it?”
“It would be really nice if we could prove it had nothing to do with the crime.”
“Too bad we can’t.”
“Well, that’s the thing. If we could figure out a way to get a photograph of the fatal bullet—”
Richard exploded from his desk. “I don’t believe it! There’s no stopping you. Why bother with a jury trial? Why don’t you just confess?”
“Richard.”
“You’re not charged with this crime. Nothing connects you to this crime. As far as the police know, the two crimes have nothing to do with each other. But you want to hand them a connection readymade. Do you know what that means? That means I can’t plea bargain. In a worst-case scenario, if they wanted to get you for, say, obstruction of justice, in the first murder, I can’t take it, because then they’ll turn around and try you for the second. And they’ll be able to use the conviction from the first against you. In the second there will be no plea bargain, because they’ll be trying a convicted felon.”
“Richard—”
“And after they convict you the second time—and if they get you for anything the first time they damn well will the second time—that’s when they turn around and come after me. Though I certainly apologize from mentioning it in the midst of a conversation that is entirely about you.”
“Are you saying it can’t be done, or are you saying it’s inadvisable to try to do it?”
He shook his head. “Unbelievable.”
“Richard, I know it’s bad. That’s why I’m trying so desperately to get out of it. Everything I do seems to make it worse, but not doing anything seems suicidal. Not that I don’t think you’re going to do a crackerjack job defending me. But I don’t expect these cops to come up with any shred of evidence that doesn’t point to me.”
“I know,” Richard said. “It’s your storybook mentality. If I get you off, it won’t be good enough, because I didn’t find out who did it. Well, guess what? This is very likely one of those crimes that is never solved. Getting you off is the optimal result.”
“I know that.”
“I know you know that. The problem is you don’t act like you know that. Or you wouldn’t be asking me to get ahold of the fatal bullet.”
“Not the fatal bullet. Just a photograph of the fatal bullet.”
“I understand the concept. And it’s not gonna happen. Or I’m gonna get my bail bond back and put you in jail where you can’t get into any more trouble.”
“Can you do that?”
“It’s my money. I put it up. If I wanna surrender you and get it back, who’s gonna stop me?”
I wasn’t sure if Richard could actually do that or if he was bluffing, but it didn’t seem like a good time to find out.
“I’m kind of happy being on bail. Whaddya say we keep the status quo?”
“And you’ll stop hassling me about the fatal bullet?”
“Sure thing,
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