Evan ran through his actions and motivations in a straightforward manner-the frag grenades, touching the gun both in the backpack and in the bed's headboard, the computer files. As Washburn had coached him, he kept bringing his narrative back to the jury, and particularly-without being too obvious-to Mrs. Ellersby, three over from the left in the second row.
"So you copied the photographic computer file?"
"Yes."
"Presumably, now, you had your proof, or at least some possible proof, of a connection between Mr. Nolan and the Khalil murders. What did you do next?"
"Well, I didn't want to take away any of the proof, so that it would still be there when the FBI searched the house-"
Mills pushed her chair back with a resonant squeal and said under her breath, "Give me a break."
Tollson banged his gavel with some force. "If I thought you'd done that on purpose, Ms. Miille, I'd hold you in contempt right now. There will be no histrionics in this courtroom! You will live to regret the next outburst of any sort and I'm admonishing the jury to disregard your unprofessional comment." Then, to Evan, "Go ahead, Mr. Scholler."
Evan let out a long breath, for the moment apparently, and perhaps actually, unable to remember where he'd been in his testimony.
Washburn took advantage of the moment. "I'm sorry, Your Honor, my client seems to have blacked out for a second."
"Oh, Christ!" Mills whispered.
"That's it, Ms. Miille, you're in contempt. We'll talk about what the sanction is going to be outside the presence of the jury." His mouth set in a hard line, Tollson pointed to both attorneys. "This ends here, I'm warning you. Mr. Washburn, does your client need a minute to compose himself?"
"Evan?" Washburn asked. "Are you all right?"
"Fine."
"All right," Tollson said, "let's have the reporter read back the last question, please."
The question got Evan back to where he was saying that he didn't want to take away any of the proof, so that the FBI would find it when they searched the house. "So I decided to make a copy of the photo file on the computer that held what I was sure was a picture of the Khalils' house. So I took one of the diskettes and made the copy and brought it home."
"Now, wait a minute. You were a policeman and you had what you considered strong evidence of a murder, and yet you didn't contact homicide?"
"Right, I didn't."
"And why was that?"
"Because I couldn't tell them what I'd found without admitting I got it in an illegal search. None of it would have been admissible in court."
"So what did you do?"
"I mailed the diskette to the FBI, who I heard were investigating the Khalil murders."
"And then what happened?"
"And then Mr. Nolan came home and must have realized that somebody had been in his house."
"In fact, he must have realized it was you, Evan. Isn't that so?"
"Well, the way it worked out. Yes, apparently. So he turned it all around to make it look like it was me who'd planted the evidence at his place and also, incidentally, killed the Khalils."
Washburn knew this was all inadmissible speculation but was betting that Mills, still reeling from the contempt citation and the reaming she had taken in front of the jury, would be keeping a low profile, at least for a while. He pressed on. "And did you, in fact, kill the Khalils?"
"No, I did not."
"Were you ever charged with killing the Khalils?"
"No."
"Did you at any time send fragmentation grenades or any other type of arms, ammunition, or ordnance from Iraq to the United States?"
"No, I did not."
"At any time, did anyone ever present you with any evidence that you had tried to send these items from Iraq to the United States?"
"No."
"Now, when you heard that Mr. Nolan had turned the tables on you and reported to the FBI, what was your reaction?"
"I was furious. I wanted to confront him and fight him."
"You did not want to kill him?"
"That never entered my mind. I was mad. I wanted to hit him."
"With brass knuckles?"
"I just happened to have them with me that night, and when I got there, I thought I might need them. Mr. Nolan had a great deal of training in hand-to-hand combat, more than me, and I wanted to level the playing field."
"So, by fighting him, did you want to stop him from telling his story to the FBI?"
"No. It was too late for that. He'd already done it." This was another critical point related to Evan's alleged motive. There would be no point in killing Nolan to stop him from turning over evidence to the authorities if that had already happened, which it had.
"So let me get this straight, Evan. On the evening of June third, two thousand four, Tara Wheatley told you that she had ended her relationship with Mr. Nolan and wanted to pursue one with you, is that correct?"
"Yes."
"And on that same night, you learned that Mr. Nolan had already supplied the FBI with evidence that supposedly connected you to the Khalil murders, right?"
"Right."
