A Reasonable Doubt Susan Sloan (chrysanthemum read aloud TXT) 📖

The police officer stared at his friend for a minute and then took a long swig from his drink, the ice chattering in the silence.  “There was only one bullet missing from Dale’s gun that morning,” he said finally.  “I know that for a fact, and I’m not going to change my mind about it.”

“That’s right,” Joe said.  “So, if there’s a second bullet that suddenly shows up, then maybe we have to look at this case from a whole different perspective.”

“I guess if there was another bullet, and no one can confirm it was fired at some other time,” Stiversen said thoughtfully, “I’d have to be looking for some other way the shooting went down.”

“And that’s exactly what I’m doing,” Joe told him.

“Could the Indian have fired it by accident when he got in his box?”

“Could he have deliberately aimed a shot into Dale’s head to kill him and then carelessly put a bullet into his own bed?” Joe said.  “You mean, was he sober when he shot Dale and drunk when he went to sleep?”

“I guess that doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, does it?”

“No, not to me -- at least, not anymore.”

“You think Randy knew and just sat on it?”

“Don’t know what reason he’d have had,” Joe replied.  “After all, it was his partner who got killed.  In the rush to pin it on the Indian, I think he just missed it.  Except for a weird turn of events, I’d have missed it, too, same as everyone else.”

Stiversen stared into his glass.  “You know, I never could figure those two together,” he said.  “Couldn’t have been more different.  Dale was always right out there, whatever the situation, while Randy, he just sort of melts into the background.”

It was true, Joe thought.  Randy Hitchens was an unassuming kind of guy, who did his job as well as anyone, was polite to everyone, and kept his private life private.  He was the perfect counter for the bombastic Dale Scott, learning from the senior officer what he could, and quietly, without seeming to do so, steering him in a gentler direction when necessary.  In his nine years on the force, he had earned the respect of everyone in the department.

“It just might have been a better fit than anyone realized,” Joe said.  “When you stop and think about it, it might have been Randy who kept Dale from going over the edge long before he did.”

“You think he knew -- about Dale and the drugs?”

“I think he’d have had to.  Partners just know that sort of stuff about each other, don’t they?”

Stiversen nodded.  “Maybe he couldn’t stop him, but he had his back all the way.”

“At least, until he came down with a head cold,” Joe said.  “And I bet he’s been beating himself up over it ever since.”

Stiversen looked up, opened his mouth to say something, and then, apparently changing his mind, he closed it again.  He and Paul Cady didn’t have the kind of relationship that Joe had just attributed to Randy and Dale, but he still knew what Joe meant.

He drained the remaining whiskey from his glass in one last gulp.

. . .

“Looks like you’ve got three choices,” Joe said, just before court reconvened.  “Mitigating circumstances, as in Jason was too drunk to know what he was doing.  Or self-defense, as in someone was shooting at Jason and he was somehow able to defend himself.”

“You said three choices,” Lily reminded him.

“Yeah, I did,” Joe said with a little smile.  “Call me crazy, but I think there may be room here for arguing just plain not guilty.”

. . .

“Defense calls Joseph Gideon to the stand,” Lily said.  She might not have known everything yet, but she did know that it was now a whole new ball game, and all bets were off.  She faced her witness.  “Mr. Gideon, what is your occupation?” Lily began.

“I’m currently a private investigator,” Joe replied.

“And what was your occupation prior to that?”

“I was a member of the Port Hancock Police Department, retiring after twenty-five years of service.”  It was doubtful there were a handful of people in the courtroom, including members of the jury, that didn’t already know that, Lily realized, but it didn’t hurt to remind everyone.

“Will you tell the jury what connection you have to this particular case?”

“In my capacity as a private investigator, I am assisting the defense,” he said.

“We’ve heard testimony that Dale Scott was shot and killed by a bullet from his own gun, and that there was only one bullet fired from that gun that night.  Has your independent investigation confirmed that?”

“I can confirm that Dale Scott was shot by a bullet from his own gun,” Joe testified.  “However, I cannot confirm that only one bullet from that gun was fired that night.”

The jurors were suddenly sitting up a bit straighter in their seats.  Tom Lickliter shifted a bit in his.  John Henry Morgan slumped against his.

“Why are you unable to confirm that only one bullet was fired that night?” Lily inquired.

“Because, in the course of my investigation, I discovered a second bullet that had been fired in close proximity to the actual scene of the crime,” Joe replied.

The jurors blinked.  Those in the gallery gasped.

“Objection,” John Henry said, getting to his feet.  “Is there any foundation for this line of questioning?”

“I was just getting to that, Your Honor,” Lily said, as she headed for the defense table.

“Assuming you do, Miss Burns,” the judge said with a meaningful glance, “the objection is overruled.”

Lily picked up the plastic bag containing the second bullet, and passed it to the court clerk.  Defense 16,” she said.  The clerk marked the bullet into evidence, and returned it to Lily, who in turn held it up, first for the prosecutors to see and then for the jury to see, before handing it to Joe.

“What are we looking at, Mr. Gideon?” she inquired.

“We’re looking at a bullet I retrieved yesterday morning from the bed of the defendant, Jason