The Reformers: A Matt Blake Novel (The Matt Blake legal thriller series Book 2) Read Online Free Page B

leaned over and kissed me.
    “Ali Yamani, or Al as he insists on being called,” Bennie said, “is one of the straightest shooters I’ve met in a long time. I ran him through my full patented bullshit detector test, every one of 12 observations I use to pick up lies. He’s either a truth-teller or the most talented psychopath I’ve ever met. He’s comfortable in his skin, well about as comfortable as a man can be with all the chains and shackles. I didn’t detect one evasion, one exaggeration, or even a slight attempt at making an excuse. The guy told me the truth. Now, as you guys well know, it’s not my job to evaluate the truth, but only to size up the speaker to see if he believes the story is true. The guy is clear as crystal. No bullshit whatsoever.”
    “That was exactly my experience of him,” I said. “I’m just glad to hear it from the nation’s top lie detector.”
    “But what about the 12-foot gorilla in the room in the room?” Diana said, “The gorilla that wears a big bandanna that says ‘evidence’? So the guy is a straight-shooting truth teller. Great. What about his prints, his DNA, and not to mention the video showing him next to the bomb?”
    “You’re one hell of a perceptive lady, kiddo.” Bennie said. “You’ve led us right to the heart of the matter. Yes, I specifically asked him about that when I confronted him with the overwhelming evidence.”
    “I did too,” I said. “And this is what freaks me out. Go ahead, Bennie.”
    “He didn’t deny that the evidence exists. He didn’t try to shuck and jive away from it. He simply insists that he did not detonate the bomb, nor did he know anything about it. But here’s the weird part. Weird? Hell, it’s almost spooky. When I asked him why someone or some group would try to frame him, he clammed up. He actually told me that he wouldn’t talk about it. He simply told me not to go there. It’s obvious that he doesn’t want to address the question of why somebody would want to frame him.”
    “That’s exactly what happened when I interviewed him. He knows something, something that may get him off. And he’s not willing to talk about it.”
    “He may not want to talk about the big WHY ,” Diana said, “but does that mean he’s not willing to participate in his own defense? If we turn bloodhound Woody Donovan loose, he’ll find a lot of inconsistencies. So what if Yamani won’t give us his opinion about motive, do we really need that?”
    “Dee nailed it, as usual,” I said. “In terms of reasonable doubt, who cares why he may have been framed? If we can establish that he was framed, why he was framed is irrelevant, although it would be useful to get it in front of the jury.”
    “There’s a terrific medical forensic expert at the Pritzker School of Medicine at the University of Chicago, Max Moon. We need to get him aboard.”
    “Max Moon?” both Dee and I blurted. “Max fucking Moon?”
    “Hey, okay. Weird name but big brain. I want to talk to him about the fingerprints, the DNA, and the video. I’ve worked with Max on cases before. He’s a good guy. He would normally get a zillion dollars to consult on a case like this, but just let me talk to him. He owes me some favors. And, like me, when his antenna goes up, it’s like a hard-on that won’t go away. Sorry Diana.”
    Dee laughed and flipped a teaspoonful of ice water at Bennie.
    “Guys,” Bennie said, “this is going to be more fun than the Spellman case.”
    Dee and I just looked at each other.

Chapter 8
     
    Okay, here’s where I tell you about Diana and me in the Witness Protection Program. The case of Diana Spellman vs. Harold Morgan and Gulf Oil Company was the strangest lawsuit I’d ever worked on. Some of the memories of the case are great—I met my wonderful wife. And some of the memories I’d just as soon forget—like the two of us almost getting killed in a gun battle.
    Diana’s late husband, Jim Spellman, was a talented investigated