Chasing Justice: A Matt Royal Mystery by H. Terrell Griffin Page B

registered owner of a thirty-eight caliber revolver.”
    Swann looked at the camera, giving Judge Thomas a big smirky grin. “That’s all I have for now, Your Honor.”
    “You may cross-examine, Mr. Royal.” the judge said.
    I stood. “Thank you, Your Honor. Good afternoon, Agent Lucas.”
    “Good afternoon.”
    “When did you decide that Abby Lester was your target?”
    “I wouldn’t say she was a target. She was the person the evidence pointed to.”
    “Okay. When did you come to the conclusion that Abby was probably the murderer?” I wanted to humanize my client a bit. I would use the same tactic with the jury. Using her first name made her more of a real person than simply calling her the defendant or the accused.
    “After we finished processing the evidence.”
    “And what time of day was that, Agent Lucas?”
    “Probably mid-afternoon.”
    “Mid-afternoon of yesterday?”
    “Yes.”
    “Do you know what time the crime scene technicians discovered Abby’s fingerprints?”
    “Not exactly.”
    “You weren’t part of the investigation until after the fingerprints had been processed, were you?”
    “That’s right. The Sarasota police chief called my boss in Tampa and told him that Mrs. Lester might be a suspect and he wanted to get our agency involved.”
    “Did the chief use that term? ‘Suspect?’”
    “I wasn’t privy to that conversation.”
    “So, you don’t know exactly what was said in relation to Abby Lester?”
    “Not exactly.”
    “So, the word ‘suspect’ is your word. Right?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “May I remind you, Agent Lucas, that you’re in a court of law and sworn to tell the truth?”
    “No. I’m well aware of where I am, Counselor.”
    “So, would it be unfair of me to ask that you stick to what you know and not give us rank speculation?”
    “Objection, Your Honor.” Swann was on his feet, outrage evident. It was a pretty good act.
    “What are your grounds, Mr. Swann?” asked Judge Thomas.
    “Mr. Royal is arguing with the witness.”
    “Didn’t sound like argument to me. The witness stepped over the line, and Mr. Royal, quite adroitly, I thought, brought him back. Overruled.”
    “But, Your Honor—” said Swann, before being cut off by the judge.
    “Was there something you didn’t understand about my ruling, Mr. Swann?”
    “I understood it, Your Honor, but—”
    The judge cut him off again. “Then sit down, Mr. Swann. I’ve ruled.”
    I smiled to myself. Old Wayne Lee hadn’t changed. He ran a tight courtroom. Most good trial lawyers appreciated that. Nonsense wasn’t allowed, and woe be unto the lawyer who engaged in it. Thomas would cut him off at the knees and not worry a whole lot about the mess a couple of bloody stumps would leave in the jury’s mind.
    “You may proceed, Mr. Royal,” the judge said.
    “Thank you, Your Honor. How did you come to be assigned to the case, Agent Lucas?”
    “I was already in Sarasota on another matter, and my supervisor called me and asked me to get involved.”
    “What time of day did you decide to arrest Abby Lester?”
    “After we reviewed all the evidence and had agreed to rule out the other people whose fingerprints were in the condo. About mid-afternoon, I’d say.”
    “About three o’clock yesterday afternoon?”
    “Yes.”
    “So, by then, the fingerprints had been identified as belonging to Abby,” I said.
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Had you found the emails by then?”
    “Sarasota PD had those. Yes, sir.”
    “Who made the decision to arrest Abby?”
    “I did.”
    “And that was based on the fingerprints and the emails?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Did the technicians find any other fingerprints in the victim’s condo?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “Of how many people, Agent?”
    “About ten.”
    “Have you identified any of those?”
    “Yes. Most of them, I think.”
    “Did you arrest those people?”
    “No, sir.”
    “Why not?”
    “Why would we?”
    “Well, you ordered Abby’s arrest based on the