I reached into my suit pocket and pulled out an envelope with my firm's letterhead on the return address. "Here, this is for you."

He took it into his hands, which was all I needed. Now he was served. "What's this?"

"It's a subpoena to testify in trial tomorrow."

He looked at me like he wanted to kill me. "You son of a bitch. You used Tinny to get into my house and then serve me with a subpoena?"

"Sorry, I had to get it to you. I really need you to testify tomorrow morning at our trial in Annapolis."

"You're him? You look different on television."

"Yeah. That's what they all say. I need you there first thing at nine o'clock. You're our next witness."

"What in the hell do you need me to testify about?"

"Those photos you gave Tinny. You saw them. I put them into the trial. I have to authenticate them. You're the only one that can do that."

"I could lose my job if they find out I'm the one who gave him those photos. And how did you find out it was me? Tinny swore he'd never tell anybody. Damn it." Grosvenor put his hands on his hips and turned away. He turned back. "You can't force me to testify. All you can do is get the court to find me in contempt for failing to comply with your stupid subpoena."

He was completely right, but I didn't want him to have much confidence in that idea. "You don't want to do that, because I will file such a motion and I'll move to continue the trial until you are compelled to testify. I will put your name everywhere. I'll tell them exactly what you had and where it came from, and I'll tell them that I came here and asked you to authenticate it and you refused to stand behind what you had done. It will make you look so dishonest in so many directions that you'll lose your job and credibility. At least if you testify, it will look like you tried to do the right thing, to get the facts out."

"I can't. I've got duty tomorrow."

"That doesn't matter and you know it. Tell them you've been subpoenaed to the first lady's trial and you have to go testify. They've got backups."

He stared at me and Rachel with eyes so intense I was actually concerned he was going to assault me. He was a lot bigger than I was. "Just photos?" he finally said.

"Mostly. I'll have to ask you a few other questions too."

He looked into my eyes as if he could read what was in my head. "Nothing about what Tinny and I talked about?"

"I can't really give you any guarantees. A lot has happened in the last twenty-four hours."

36

GROSVENOR WAS THERE even before I got there at eight o'clock. The turmoil during the night had turned the court-watching news cycle into a twenty-four-hour breathless reality show. Everything was analyzed from every conceivable direction. There were calls to halt the trial, arrest Wayne Bradley, disbar me, disbar Hackett, sequester the jury, and indict WorldCopter; everything was on the public table. When I arrived, Grosvenor was sitting on the bench outside the courtroom. People were asking him who he was. He refused to identify himself to anyone and sat quietly in a dark suit with his legs crossed looking pissed. I didn't acknowledge him in any way. I walked by him and into the courtroom. Wayne Bradley was sitting in the front looking over his notes, and the gallery was filling from the daily line that began hours before trial commenced and snaked through the hall and down the front steps.

By the time the jury filed into the jury box and the gallery was full, the tension was higher than it had been since the first day of trial. Judge Betancourt took the bench, sat in her chair, and swiveled quickly toward Hackett. She glanced at the jury and the rest of the people in the courtroom and said, "Good morning. Mr. Hackett, did you want to cross-examine Dr. Bradley?"

Hackett stood and looked around the courtroom, then at the judge, and said, "No, Your Honor. All he's done is prove my punitive-damages case."

She nodded at him with a slightly annoyed look and looked to me. "You may call your next witness, Mr. Nolan."

"Your Honor, I'd like to call Marcel Remy."

Marcel stood up from the front row and walked to the witness stand. He raised his hand, took the oath, and sat down. Marcel explained his role as the chief accident investigator for WorldCopter. He described his work on the investigation of the crash of Marine One, his work with the NTSB, and told the jury of the investigation hangar, the layout of the wreckage, and the testing that had been conducted.

He then confirmed what Bradley had said, that the partial serial number on the tip weight Bradley had found almost certainly came from Marine One. I asked him several questions about the tip weights, the design of the tip weights, the drawings, and then I asked him the questions that were the reasons I had brought him on first.

"Marcel, are the tip weights x-rayed when they're received by WorldCopter?"

"No, of course not."

"Why is that?"

"They're not complex, they're just weights, pieces of metal. They're like washers. There is nothing to see."

"Does WorldCopter check them against the specifications to make sure they're the right size and weights?"

"Of course. They're measured and weighed."

"Does WorldCopter make the tip weights?"

"No."

I paused, making sure everyone was listening carefully. I waited for complete silence. I then asked quietly, "Who makes the tip weights, Marcel?"

"Chang Manufacturing."

"Where is Chang located?"

"In China. Well, not China exactly, the Republic of China. Or Taiwan. Whatever it is called."

"So not the People's Republic of China, but the island, Taiwan."

"Yes. Exactly."

I looked at Hackett. "Your witness."

Hackett stood, looking puzzled. "I don't have any questions for this witness, Your Honor. He simply confirmed that these tip weights were installed by WorldCopter."

The judge said to Marcel, "You may step down. Call your next witness, Mr. Nolan."

I said loudly, "Your Honor, WorldCopter would like to call at this time Mr. J. Mark Grosvenor."

Hackett looked at the witness list, then at me. He looked at the witness list again, then stood. "Your Honor, Mr. Grosvenor is not on the witness list."

"Is that right, Mr. Nolan?" the judge asked.

"Yes, Your Honor. I was unaware of Mr. Grosvenor until yesterday morning. I personally served him with a subpoena last night at his home in Bethesda. He's in the hallway."

Hackett wasn't going to relent. "Your Honor, I don't really care if he's in the hallway. What I care about is that he's not on the witness list. I have not had any opportunity to do any discovery against this witness, and I'm not prepared to cross-examine him. If this is a new witness with important information, I should be allowed to take his deposition and prepare."

Grosvenor stood behind the gate. I motioned him forward toward the witness stand. The judge said, "Let me see counsel at sidebar."

The court reporter picked her stenographic machine off its pedestal and followed Hackett and me to the side of the bench, where the judge had wheeled over for our conference. She said in a low voice, just above a whisper, "Mr. Nolan, why is this man not on the witness list? Who is he?"

I leaned forward. "Your Honor, Mr. Grosvenor is a Secret Service agent employed at the White House in the presidential detail. He was the head of security at Camp David. He will authenticate the photos that were discussed earlier, since he is the source, as well as provide additional testimony about who the president was going to see on the night of his death."

Hackett went absolutely red like he was going to explode. "Your Honor, this is potentially explosive testimony, and I am not prepared to cross-examine him. I need to take his deposition, explore whatever knowledge he has, and test that knowledge against reality. For all I know, this man could be a complete charlatan and a fake witness like Mr. Nolan has attempted to use in the preparation of-"