for killing him, so I left"
Lorene Hastings' assessment of Bobby Packard supported his statement. "A gentle caring man. He was not
the kind to look for trouble"
Well, looking or not, I told myself. He's sure found
himself neck-deep in it.
S gt. Jack Carpenter was the arresting officer. He had
testified that when he searched Bobby Packard's apartment, he had discovered a Glock handgun, purportedly
the same caliber slugs the M. E. dug out of Hastings.
My first call was to Chief Ramon Pachuca, with whom
I had developed an amiable relationship over the last few
years. He appreciated the fact I deferred to Austin P. D.,
always asking permission before intruding into their
sphere of authority. I told him I wanted to talk to
Carpenter if he didn't mind. He didn't. "How soon can
you get over here?" he asked.
"Fifteen minutes"
"He'll be waiting" I beamed at my luck. Who says
politeness doesn't pay?
Carpenter was a tall, gray-haired plainclothes cop with
narrow shoulders and wide hips-a perfect example of
the pear-shaped man. From the expression on his face, I
could tell he was ticked off having to talk to me.
"Only one or two questions, Sergeant. They'll take no
more than a couple minutes"
He growled, "They'd better. I've got no more time than
that. What's this all about?"
"It's an old case, Sergeant, ten years old. You remember the Packard trial, the guy they say killed Albert
Hastings, the governor-elect?"
His brow furrowed. In a monotone voice, he replied,
"There wasn't no `they-saying' about it. He was convicted. That means he done it."
"Yeah. Well, I'm interviewing the witnesses. You,
Hastings' secretary, Sam Bradford, L. D. Bryson, and others"
A frown furrowed his craggy face. "Is the case being
reopened?"
I shook my head. "No. My firm, Blevins' Investigations,
has been retained by a private individual to look into the
case. As you know, I cleared all of this with Chief Pachuca"
He glared at me. "So? What do you want?"
I glared back. "You remember testifying the Glock 21
you found in Parkard's apartment was the same caliber as
the slugs taken from Hastings?"
"Yeah, 9mm if I remember right."
"It was."
"So?"
"So, there was nothing in the trial transcript matching
the the rifling of the slugs to Packard's Glock. Glocks
have hexagonal rifling, a right-hand twist. Do you have
any idea why that wasn't mentioned?"
"Sure," he replied with a nonchalant shrug. "From what
I heard, some joker in the lab lost the slugs before they
could get a match"
His indifferent response stunned me. I blinked in disbelief. "Lost them?" I hesitated, momentarily bewildered
by his revelation. Finally, I found my voice. "Lost them?
Then, how did they get put into evidence?"
He shrugged. "Beats me. Ask the judge"
His revelation had stunned me. When I finally sorted
out my thoughts, I asked, "Okay, so the slugs were lost.
How was the determination made that they came from
Packard's Glock?"
Carpenter jabbed his meaty fingers into his shirt pocket
and retrieved a battered pack of Camels. After lighting up
and taking a long drag, he shrugged. "I've got no idea. All
I did was testify that the Glock I found in Packard's gun
cabinet was a 9mm. The lab people said the slugs the
M. E. dug out of Hastings were 9mm"
Wanting to be certain I heard him right, I asked,
"You're saying there was never an opportunity to match
the rifling on the slugs with Packard's Glock?"
One side of his lips twisted up in a grin. "You got it,
boy."
"Then if the slugs were lost before tests were run, how
was the determination made that they were even 9mm?
Glocks come in four or five calibers"
He snorted. "Those boys handle so many slugs that
they can tell by looking. I can too. Any cop worth his pay
can"
Slowly, I nodded. I had hoped that when I interviewed
Sgt. Jack Carpenter, he would give me something substantial.
The pear-shaped cop had not disappointed me.
My next stop was Natalie Romero, Hastings'
Lorene Hastings' assessment of Bobby Packard supported his statement. "A gentle caring man. He was not
the kind to look for trouble"
Well, looking or not, I told myself. He's sure found
himself neck-deep in it.
S gt. Jack Carpenter was the arresting officer. He had
testified that when he searched Bobby Packard's apartment, he had discovered a Glock handgun, purportedly
the same caliber slugs the M. E. dug out of Hastings.
My first call was to Chief Ramon Pachuca, with whom
I had developed an amiable relationship over the last few
years. He appreciated the fact I deferred to Austin P. D.,
always asking permission before intruding into their
sphere of authority. I told him I wanted to talk to
Carpenter if he didn't mind. He didn't. "How soon can
you get over here?" he asked.
"Fifteen minutes"
"He'll be waiting" I beamed at my luck. Who says
politeness doesn't pay?
Carpenter was a tall, gray-haired plainclothes cop with
narrow shoulders and wide hips-a perfect example of
the pear-shaped man. From the expression on his face, I
could tell he was ticked off having to talk to me.
"Only one or two questions, Sergeant. They'll take no
more than a couple minutes"
He growled, "They'd better. I've got no more time than
that. What's this all about?"
"It's an old case, Sergeant, ten years old. You remember the Packard trial, the guy they say killed Albert
Hastings, the governor-elect?"
His brow furrowed. In a monotone voice, he replied,
"There wasn't no `they-saying' about it. He was convicted. That means he done it."
"Yeah. Well, I'm interviewing the witnesses. You,
Hastings' secretary, Sam Bradford, L. D. Bryson, and others"
A frown furrowed his craggy face. "Is the case being
reopened?"
I shook my head. "No. My firm, Blevins' Investigations,
has been retained by a private individual to look into the
case. As you know, I cleared all of this with Chief Pachuca"
He glared at me. "So? What do you want?"
I glared back. "You remember testifying the Glock 21
you found in Parkard's apartment was the same caliber as
the slugs taken from Hastings?"
"Yeah, 9mm if I remember right."
"It was."
"So?"
"So, there was nothing in the trial transcript matching
the the rifling of the slugs to Packard's Glock. Glocks
have hexagonal rifling, a right-hand twist. Do you have
any idea why that wasn't mentioned?"
"Sure," he replied with a nonchalant shrug. "From what
I heard, some joker in the lab lost the slugs before they
could get a match"
His indifferent response stunned me. I blinked in disbelief. "Lost them?" I hesitated, momentarily bewildered
by his revelation. Finally, I found my voice. "Lost them?
Then, how did they get put into evidence?"
He shrugged. "Beats me. Ask the judge"
His revelation had stunned me. When I finally sorted
out my thoughts, I asked, "Okay, so the slugs were lost.
How was the determination made that they came from
Packard's Glock?"
Carpenter jabbed his meaty fingers into his shirt pocket
and retrieved a battered pack of Camels. After lighting up
and taking a long drag, he shrugged. "I've got no idea. All
I did was testify that the Glock I found in Packard's gun
cabinet was a 9mm. The lab people said the slugs the
M. E. dug out of Hastings were 9mm"
Wanting to be certain I heard him right, I asked,
"You're saying there was never an opportunity to match
the rifling on the slugs with Packard's Glock?"
One side of his lips twisted up in a grin. "You got it,
boy."
"Then if the slugs were lost before tests were run, how
was the determination made that they were even 9mm?
Glocks come in four or five calibers"
He snorted. "Those boys handle so many slugs that
they can tell by looking. I can too. Any cop worth his pay
can"
Slowly, I nodded. I had hoped that when I interviewed
Sgt. Jack Carpenter, he would give me something substantial.
The pear-shaped cop had not disappointed me.
My next stop was Natalie Romero, Hastings'
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