...Or Your Money Back | Page 6

go, boys. Maybe the counselor wants to look over the table for himself. Maybe he thinks we've got it rigged."
There was a chorus of guffaws as they walked out. I just stood there, scowling, trying to keep from laughing even harder than they were.
* * * * *
Jason Howley sat next to me at the defense table, just inside the low partition that divided the court from the public. There weren't many people in the auditorium itself; listening to some poor dope get himself sentenced for cheating at gambling is considered pretty dull entertainment in the State of Nevada.
Thursby had managed to push the indictment through the grand jury in a hurry, but, as he sat across the room from me at the prosecution table, I thought I could detect a false note in the assumed look of confidence that he was trying to wear.
Howley tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around, and he whispered: "How much longer?"
I tapped my wrist watch. "Couple minutes. Judge Lapworth is one of those precisionists. Never a moment late or early. Getting jumpy?"
He shook his head gently and smiled. "No. You've handled this even better than I'd have imagined. You thought of things I didn't even know existed. I'm no lawyer; I can see that."
I returned the smile. "And I don't invent gimmicks, either. So what?"
His eyes looked at me from behind the distorting negative lenses. "I've been wondering, counselor--why are you so interested in this? I mean, I offered you a pretty good fee, and all that, but it seems to me you're taking an unusual interest in the case."
I grinned at him. "Mr. Howley, my profession is Law--with a capital L. The study of the Law isn't like the study of physics or whatever; these are manmade laws--commands, not descriptions. They don't necessarily have anything to do with facts at all. Take the word 'insanity,' for instance; the word isn't even used by head-shrinkers any more because it's a legal definition that has nothing whatever to do with the condition of the human mind.
"Now, any such set of laws as that can't possibly be self-consistent and still have some use on an action level. A lawyer's job is to find the little inconsistencies in the structure, the places where the pieces have been jammed together in an effort to make them look like a structured whole. To find, in other words, the loopholes and use them.
"And when I find a loophole, I like to wring everything I can out of it. I'm enjoying this."
Howley nodded. "I see. But what if something--"
I held up my hand to silence him, because the door to the judges' chambers opened at that moment, and Judge Lapworth came in as the bailiff announced him. We all stood up while the bailiff intoned his "Oyez, oyez."
Thursby made a short preliminary speech to the jury, and I requested and was granted permission to hold my own opening statement until the defense was ready to present its case.
Thursby was looking worried, although it took a trained eye to see it. I was pretty sure I knew why. He had been pushed too hard and had gone too fast. He'd managed to slide through the grand jury too easily, and I had managed to get the trial date set for a week later. Thursby's case was far from being as tight as he wanted it.
* * * * *
I just sat still while the prosecution brought forth its witnesses and evidence. The croupier, the deputies, several employees of the Golden Casino, and a couple of patrons all told their stories. I waived cross-examination in every case, which made Thursby even edgier than he had been.
When he called in the head of the technicians who had inspected the table at the casino, I made no objection to his testimony, but I made my first cross-examination.
"Mr. Thompson, you have stated your qualifications as an expert on the various devices which have been used to illegally influence the operation of gambling devices in this state."
Thursby said: "Oh, if the Court please, I should like to remind counsel for the defense that he has already accepted the qualifications of the witness."
"I am not attempting to impugn the qualifications of the witness," I snapped.
Judge Lapworth frowned at Thursby. "Are you making an objection, Mr. District Attorney?"
Thursby pursed his lips, said, "No, Your Honor," and sat down.
"Proceed with the cross-examination," said the judge.
"Mr. Thompson," I said, "you have testified that you examined the table at the Golden Casino for such devices and found none. Is that right?"
"That's right," he said positively.
"Have you seen the device labeled People's Exhibit A, which was found by the officers on the person of the defendant?"
"Well ... yes. I have."
"Have you examined this device?"
Thursby was on his feet. "Objection, Your Honor!