Love Story: In The Web of Life (27 page)

I said, "We will walk. Elizabeth is staying in
cabin two. Show her around the lodge and then take her to her
cabin. We will be there in about a half hour."

We hugged and then kissed, Tina said, "I really
missed you. It feels like we have been separated for
months."

"Me too, although, when I think of you, I am
kind of where you are, I feel your marvelous energy."

As we walked holding hands, Tina told me of the
frantic activity in ending the school year. I told her about fine
dinning in Rocky Butte, about how Buster and Sofia were our
bodyguards. She displayed mock disappointment when I told her she
wouldn't be able to enjoy the fashionable eating establishments in
Rocky Butte until after the trial. I did promise her a night on the
town after the trial, including dining and clubbing at the
Claim Jumper
and
Diggings
, if we could talk Buster and Sofia into
going with us.

I related my recent space-time travels, "I have
had some more interesting new visions. The biplane thing got
cleared up more. Apparently, I was a Word War I German fighter
pilot vying for the Blue Max. Early in the war I believed I was
involved in some chivalrous combat, a modern version of medieval
noble knights jousting in armor. Later in the war, as the allies
put more airplanes in the air, it turned into wholesale slaughter
of untrained pilots. I had this incident where I saw the people I
was shooting down. They were mere boys. I refused to fly and kill
innocent children. They apparently court–martialed me, publicly
tearing the insignias and rank from my uniform. I was sent to the
infantry to die an inglorious death in trench warfare.

"In another vision I saw a woman, someone I
loved, scolding me for disgracing her, and dumping me. I felt very
betrayed. Maybe that is where some of my trust issues
originated.

"I think some of my passion for flying
sailplanes may be related to those World War I times. I may be
still trying to prove myself and get the Blue Max, the order
of
Pour le Me'rite.
I don't
think I have lost my interest in flying, but it will be different,
maybe less serious, and more fun."

Tina replied, "Wow! You are getting a lot out
of this space-time travel. Did you talk to Tom about
this?"

"Yes, I did. He told me to be careful not to do
it alone, unguided.
It is possible to get
mentally stuck out of present time.
He said that you
could help me stay in present time. If I start to drift in
space-time, you should do something to get me grounded, such as
take me to bed and jump on me."

She chuckled and then added with a wry smile,
"Oh, the sacrifices one must make out of duty."

We walked quietly for a while, arm-in-arm,
interrupted with side-hugs. I was relishing having her
near.

Buster and Sofia greeted us when we got to the
lodge. Sofia looked delighted to meet Tina. "It will be so good to
have another woman to do girl–talk with. Here, let me show you
around."

Buster and I chatted for a while, and he
related to me that his men in town had picked up the gossip, 'a
lawyer had moved to town and was buying the old Williams'
place.'

I laughed and said, "The subterfuge is
working."

He also commented that Elizabeth looked very
athletic. She asked him which trails to use for a five-mile
run.

Sofia and Tina returned from the kitchen, and
Sofia said, "Tina has given me some ideas for dinner. Buster and I
need to go into town to get some things. We will be back in a
couple of hours."

"Stay close," Buster admonished.

We walked out upon the porch, watched them
drive away. Tina turned to me, looked intently and said with a
giggle, "Emergency! He is drifting out of present time. Must take
immediate action."

Dinner was a delight. Trained martial arts
specialists, art and music lovers, Hollywood stunt people, an
Olympic athlete, and a pilot can be jolly dinner
companions.

Sunday, while Elizabeth and I worked preparing
for the trial, Sofia gave Tina karate lessons, and Buster went to
the Williams' house, and town.

****

Chapter Eight

THE
TRIAL

Monday morning, Buster drove Elizabeth and me
to the Williams' house where we picked up our car to drive to
court. Buster asked for a five-minute lead and drove off in his
pickup.

Elizabeth briefed me on what she had discovered
searching the Internet. She said, "Sheriff Bogend's father was a
Bible-thumping southern evangelical preacher. If we probe in that
area, we might expose some irrationality, strong beliefs in the
Devil and fundamentalist ideas. It would be good to get him to
launch into a Bible-thumping tirade.

"We should also try to eliminate anyone with
fundamentalist beliefs from the jury. I will study the panel as you
probe prospective jurors on the subject of devils and witches.
Also, you should probe for people with strong beliefs about the
validity of logic and science: ask whether anybody has degrees in
science and find out if anyone subscribes to technical journals or
scientific magazines such as Scientific American. One of these
country people might be a retired rocket scientist. We don't need a
juror who will decide to provide scientific leadership in the
deliberations."

When Elizabeth first saw downtown Rocky Butte
she said, "Toto, I have a feeling we're not in Kansas, any
more."

I pointed out the nightlife spots and
opportunities for fine dining. Elizabeth replied, "I would say that
this is about as far off the end of Melrose that one can
get."

As we parked our car in the courthouse parking
lot, I noticed Buster and another rough looking character sitting
in his pickup.

As we walked alone up the empty steps of the
courthouse, Elizabeth admired the building and said, "Stick with
Dave Willard and you can end up in the big time! You go ahead, I'll
handle the all the reporters"

The courtroom looked as though it had not been
modified since the courthouse was built in 1922. The walls had
waist–high, dark wood wainscoting below beige walls that led to a
ceiling of pressed tin patterned squares. Two windows and four
hanging shaded light fixtures provided the light. The room had
seating for about a hundred, and the usual jury box, tables, and
judge's bench. At the front, under a portrait of George Washington
and the County Seal, awaited the witness box, and court reporter's
desk, flanked by American and California State flags.

The jury pool was sitting in the first few rows
of the spectator area, being instructed by the Bailiff.

I greeted the Sodastroms as they sat at our
table and introduced Elizabeth. Then, we introduced ourselves to
Dean Buttress, the defense attorney who was there alone.

Ann and Ed Sodastrom looked quite distraught. I
stood between them and Elizabeth as I explained how I regretted
having to put them through all this again, but it should be over in
a few days.

Elizabeth observed after we sat down, "Dean
Buttress looks like a typical third–string attorney assigned to a
case in the boonies that nobody else wanted. The insurance company
must reckon that their liability is very small and the Rocky Butte
jury will think a few hundred thousand dollars is a lot of money.
His eye movements look like those of an alcoholic in a hung-over
condition."

Judge Cartright appeared and after the
formalities we began jury selection. During the questioning of the
jury, I noticed Buster in the back row and his associate sitting in
the middle.

Midway through the jury selection, Elizabeth
whispered in my ear, "A lady just came in who looks like a
reporter. It must be the San Jose Times reporter that will be
sending trial summaries to Dore."

Jury selection was routine. At 12:30 after the
jury was seated and instructed, Judge Cartright declared a
forty-five-minute recess for lunch after which he would hear
opening statements. Elizabeth and I retired to a conference room
with our sack lunches brought from the ranch.

"Really the big-time," said Elizabeth as she
unwrapped her sandwich and opened her canned drink. "Other courts
give you an hour and a half for lunch."

"Stick with me," I smiled. "In one of our
previous meetings, the judge indicated his desire for long court
days. He said a short trial was in the best interests of the
participants and the community.

"I think the jury selection went well, thanks
to you, Elizabeth."

She replied, "I think we have a good jury.
Family values, no fundamentalists, no amateur scientists, and all
seemingly rule-based. I don't think there are any wild cards in
there. Jurors number five and nine, the older ladies, were looking
at Buttress disdainfully, maybe recognizing and disapproving of his
alcoholism. Those two well-dressed men with untanned faces that we
dismissed must be the local clergy."

"Thanks for your expert observation and help
with that, Elizabeth. Now, I think I will have some quiet time to
get ready for my opening statement."

At 1:15, Judge Cartright reconvened the court
and we made our opening statements. I then presented witnesses to
establish the dry fundamentals–that Lucy had died of exposure,
where and when she was found, and what attempts were made to
resuscitate her. At just before five-thirty, Judge Cartright
adjourned for the day.

On the way home Elizabeth observed, "Judge
Cartright helps us generate a lot of billable hours in a single
court-day."

At the old Williams' place, we gave our car to
Cody, who was dressed in slacks, tie, and blue dress shirt, looking
like me.

As we joined Buster in his pickup, Elizabeth
whispered to me, "I am now really in the big-time."

As we entered the parking lot at the ranch I
noticed a big blue Ford SUV, inside the lodge, Tina who had been
talking to Candice, enthusiastically greeted me. Peter Gallagher
had also flown in.

Over wine and cheese, elegantly served by
Sofia, I related the trial proceedings today.

I said I would start the day tomorrow with Ed
Sodastrom's tragic account of the evening to stet a tragic tone for
the trial.

I would put on a retired deputy sheriff next,
followed by two members of the search and rescue team to establish
that the search effort was not well–organized, and establish that
Sheriff Bogend was not doing the best possible job. Then, I would
put on Sheriff Bogend and try to reveal how his personal biases
interfered with his professional judgment. If there were time left,
I would put on Candice, and then show the movie, followed by Phil
Gallagher. I said I didn't expect that we could get to Candice and
Phil tomorrow. They could stay around the ranch, and we would call
them to court if needed. I said Steve Manteo would arrive tomorrow
morning and stay over as required.

Buster added that he had a SUV outside, and a
driver would be here tomorrow for everyone to use when they needed
to get to court.

Everyone went back to conversation.

I said I was going upstairs to freshen up
before dinner. Tina joined me.

After a dinner of good conversation, Elizabeth,
Candice, Phil, and I went to the study to go over testimony.
Elizabeth produced her laptop and showed us the reporter's dispatch
to Dore reporting on the day’s events. It included my opening
statement that Elizabeth read aloud:

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury:

The question here is whether Sheriff Bogend was
negligent by not using all available resources in the search for
the missing girl, Lucy Sodastrom. Failure to use all available
information and search resources resulted in Lucy's
death.

We will show that Mr. Manteo's, using his
psychic powers, informed Sheriff Bogend of Lucy's location, down
Bear Creek. Sheriff Bogend failed to even consider or act on Mr.
Manteo's volunteered information before Lucy died of
exposure.

Any reasonable man would have sent two or more
of the ten qualified search people standing idly in the parking lot
waiting for an assignment. It would have only taken two people a
half hour to walk down the Bear Creek trail to Lucy's location and
verify if she was there or not.

Rocky Butte County has a written policy
describing how to proceed in emergencies, including search and
rescue missions. That policy states that all available resources
should be employed.

Sheriff Bogend did not use the standard of
conduct that required him to use all available resources in the
search for Lucy. Law enforcement officers are trained to act on all
manner of information: tips from anonymous sources, "hunches" from
experienced people, etc. Sheriff Bogend failed to act as a
reasonable man could be expected to act, deploying idle search and
rescue people to walk a couple of miles on an improved trail to
check out a credible tip.

We will expose you to a complicated physics
theory that explains how psychic phenomena, such as employed by Mr.
Manteo, is scientifically legitimate. You do not have to understand
the mathematics of this theory: all you should decide is if the
expert witnesses that will testify are scientifically credible and
up-to-date on the advances do science.