The Traveller by John Katzenbach Read Free Book Online Page A

the attorney drone another question. ‘So, because the shell casings were located here, you concluded that the killer stood where?’
    ‘If you will refer to the diagram, marked into evidence as state’s exhibit twelve, counsel, you will see that casings were discovered some twenty-four inches from the doorway to the bedroom. A Browning Nine-Millimeter ejects casings at a constant rate. Consequently, it is possible with a degree of scientific certainty to say precisely where the shooter was standing.’
    ‘They couldn’t roll?’
    ‘The rug in that portion of the room is a two-inch shag carpet, counsel.’
    Did you measure it?’ ‘Yes.”
    The attorney turned toward his notes. Detective Barren fixed her eyes on the defendant. He was a wiry, small Colombian immigrant, uneducated save in methods and modes of death. He would be convicted, she thought, and within thirty seconds another would get off the next Avianca flight to take his place. Killers were the Kleenex of the drug industry; they were used a few times and then discarded unceremoniously.
    Her eyes drifted up past the defendant, and she saw Lieutenant Burns enter the back of the courtroom. For a moment she connected him with the killer on trial. Then she saw him surreptitiously give her a thumbs-up sign. Her imagination leaped. She watched the lieutenant stride down the center aisle
    of the courtroom and bend over the barrier to whisper a few words into a bored-looking prosecutor’s ear. He sat up straight, swiveled, and then rose to his feet.
    Detective Barren looked at the lieutenant, who smiled at her, but only a small smile, just the slightest upturning at the corners of the mouth.
    ‘Your honor,’ the young prosecutor said, ‘may we come to side-bar?’
    ‘Is it important?’ asked the judge.
    ‘I believe so,’ replied the prosecutor.
    The defense attorney, the court stenographer, and the prosecutor all walked around to the judge’s side, where the jury could not hear them. There was a moment of conversation, then the three returned to their seats. The judge turned to the jury.
    ‘We’re going to take a brief recess now, then the state will continue with another witness.’ He looked at Detective Barren. ‘Detective, apparently your services are needed elsewhere. You are subject to recall, so please remember that you are under oath at all times.’
    Detective Barren nodded. She swallowed.
    The judge frowned. ‘Detective, the stenographer cannot record a nod of the head.’
    ‘Yes, your honor. Under oath. I understand.’
    Detective Barren and the lieutenant hurried from the
    courtroom. As they passed through a sally port entrance
    and then through a metal detector, the lieutenant said,
    “They whacked the fucker about ninety minutes ago. He’s
    at county homicide being questioned. They’re doing his
    house and car now. Search warrant got issued this morning.
    Hell, you probably passed it on the way into court. We
    tried to reach you, but you were on the stand. So I decided
    to come get you myself.’
    Detective Barren nodded.
    The two hurried outside. It was Florida fall, a subtle lessening of the oppressive heat of summer. A mild breeze caused the flags outside the courthouse to buffet about.
    ‘Why’d they move on him?’ she asked.
    “The tail watched the creep buy two pairs of women’s
    pantyhose last night at an all-night drugstore. He stashed them in a locker at the University of Miami, along with a ball-peen hammer.’
    ‘Who is he?’
    ‘A weirdo and a foreigner. He’s some sort of Arab. Kind of a professional student, from what I’ve heard. Took courses all over the place. Registered with a bunch of different names, too. We’ll know more soon.’ The lieutenant paused at the door of an unmarked cruiser. ‘You want to watch the questioning or the search of his place?’
    She thought for a moment.
    ‘Let’s swing by his house, then go over to county.’
    ‘You got it.’
    The city washed past the windshield as they drove