Early Monday morning, after Ray's second night in jail, attorney Jerry Kagan appeared, sent over as ordered by the judge. This wasn't a public defender; Ray would be paying for him. He could take him or leave him.
Ray didn't know what to expect. Just give him someone who can get him out of there. Someone between a youngster taking leftover court-assigned cases and an oldster rising from his deathbed for his swan song. He got the oldster shuffling in with a well-worn briefcase that appeared to be empty.
His first impression of the man wasn't favorable. Not exactly a ball of fire. Hard to imagine him in front of a jury. No doubt tall and good-looking at one time, now the old man was stooped-shouldered and a bit shriveled. His suit was acceptable; however, the tie would need another decade to get back in style. Well beyond retirement age, his dynamic practice days, if they ever existed, had to be behind him.
He sat down out of breath, muttering something about Florida being hot in November. Said he was Jeremiah Kagan-please call him Jerry. Said he was pushing eighty but not to let that be a bother. Said he knows the law, just didn't move around so fast anymore. "Stop talking to that bail bondsman, Beau Cobb," he scolded.
After that reprimand, Ray decided the old-timer had something on the ball. Something about him just seemed right. Good enough. They shook hands on the engagement.
The lawyer took out a large yellow pad. "What happened to your hand?"
"Well, that's part of a long and incredible story. I was at Al Towson's apartment by mistake. And he rather lost it when I asked about Tammy Jerrold. Do you know these names?"
"Yes, go on."
"I didn't know he was a state senator, didn't know anything about him. Anyway, he thought I was trying to pull something. He yelled. I dropped the hot coffee burning my hand and ankle. Naturally, the detective was interested in the bandage. They tested for Gun Powder Residue upstairs. I overheard a cop say there wouldn't be any residue left because I had rubbed ointment on the burn."
"What time were you up there?"
"Around noon."
"Then the police got it backwards. You put the ointment on around noon and the senator was shot much later. Any residue would be on top of the ointment, not under it. You see how evidence can get screwed up?" Kagan slowly wrote himself a note about that.
Ray liked that. Possibly this guy knew what he was doing. Would he live to the conclusion of the case was the real question. Ray went on and related the whole episode. The lawyer squinted down at the pad, slowly creating his notes, occasionally pointing to his ear to request a louder repeat.