Play Dead

Instead we focus on our own case. We’ll once again establish that Reggie is Richard’s dog, and that he survived that night. We’ll also bring in Dr. King, who will present his version of the events of that night, as well as his contention that Richard did not take the Amenipam orally.

But the more I think about it, the more I feel we should focus on Stacy’s faked identity. Even not knowing who she really is, the deception increases our chances of raising reasonable doubt. If we match her fingerprint, then everything changes, for better or worse, depending on that identity.

Kevin agrees with my assessment, though we both realize we’re in an uncomfortable position. Much of our preparation depends on that fingerprint, and all we can do is wait.

Feder meets us in the morning before court begins, with a copy of what he is sure is Stacy’s print. There were many just like it in the cabin, and a particular concentration of them on the pots and pans. He has also come up with a couple of other prints that do not match Richard or Karen, and he’s brought them as well.

To save us time, Feder agrees to bring the prints to Pete Stanton, since they have worked together many times in the past. Kevin and I head into court, where Hawpe proceeds to do us a favor by making his final four witnesses last all day. We will not have to start our case until tomorrow, and the delay works to our advantage.

Kevin brings a criminologist named Jeffrey Blalock to our evening meeting. He was formerly a detective in Bergen County, specializing in identity theft and computer crime. With the explosion of illegal activity in those areas, he left the force to set up a private consulting practice, and is now recognized as a leading expert in the field.

Blalock will be the witness through whom we’ll make our claim that Stacy’s background is fake, and he has spent the past couple of days going over the information Sam has gotten, as well as the documents Kevin brought back from Minnesota.

I usually like to spend far more time prepping witnesses as crucial as Blalock, but things are moving too fast to allow that. As I start to talk with him, I harbor a secret fear that he’s going to say we’re crazy, that Stacy Harriman is in reality Stacy Harriman.

He doesn’t. “Stacy Harriman never existed. She was created out of whole cloth.”

“How would this woman manage to do something like that?” I ask.

He smiles. “She wouldn’t. This is WITSEC.”

“They deny it.”

“Under oath?” he asks.

“No, but to a court.”

“Let me put it this way…,” he says, and then points to my desk. “What is that?”

“My desk,” I say.

“If I tell you that’s not your desk, are you going to believe me?”

“Of course not.”

He nods. “Right, because you know better.” He holds up the folder of documents relating to Stacy. “These are as clear to me as that desk is to you. This is WITSEC, no matter what they told that judge.”

As much as I’m surprised that their attorney, Alice Massengale, would lie in court, what Blalock is saying instinctively feels right. Of course, there is always the possibility that Massengale herself was not told the truth and was representing to the court what she thought was accurate information.

I call Cindy Spodek at her Boston office. I don’t want to involve her in the case any more than I have, because it seems to have caused her a problem with her FBI bosses. But this WITSEC confusion is bugging me, and I’m hoping Cindy’s experience can help debug me.

I explain to her the situation and what transpired in court, and she listens without interrupting. When I finish, she says, “It sounds like WITSEC, Andy. I don’t know how else these things could have been fabricated so completely.”

“But their lawyer denied it in court, even though she didn’t have to answer at all. She could have appealed the court’s order to death.”

“Who was the attorney?”

“Alice Massengale.”

“It was Alice?” she asks, her surprise evident. “Then you’ve got a problem.”

“Why? You know her?”

“I do. I worked with her a few times when I was based down there. There is no way she would knowingly lie in court. Absolutely no way.”

For all Cindy’s certainty, she is making an educated guess about Massengale’s veracity. I’m inclined to go along with it because Cindy is a very good judge of people, and because it seems more likely that a good attorney would not intentionally and directly lie to a judge.

I head home and call Laurie before going to bed-or, more accurately, from bed. As always, she wants to be brought up to date on the case, and I do so. It actually helps me to verbalize it to her; it seems to clear my mind.

She also doesn’t believe that Massengale would lie to the judge, both because it seems unlikely on its face and because she trusts Cindy’s judgment. Nevertheless, for now I’m going to operate on the assumption that Stacy was in WITSEC; I just wish I could get it in front of the jury.