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“Speak clearly, so we can all hear,” Coffman said.
Russo said Heath’s alibi was not as solid as had been represented by Clayton. “Heath was at that dinner, which involved several people, and I’ve now talked to them all. It was political, with people moving around, laughing, back-slapping, drinking, and table-hopping. Heath went to the men’s room at least twice and maybe more often. The dinner lasted four hours and all he needed was three minutes to drive to the Sand house...”
That began a three-way argument among Morely, Clayton, and Russo about timing, and at the end of it, Coffman nodded. “All right, I’ve heard the arguments—”
Russo interrupted and said, “Sir, one more thing you should hear...”
“What is that, Detective?”
“I’m St. Paul’s lead representative to the FBI’s task force on the Sand murder. I know this isn’t an evidentiary meeting, but there is one more piece that hasn’t been referred to, in support of the warrant, and that you haven’t heard. I hope you can take the time to do that. But it’s absolutely critical.”
Coffman turned to the U.S. Attorney: “Mr. Morely?”
“I don’t know what Sergeant Russo wants to present. We didn’t manage to talk before this hearing.”
“We didn’t have time,” Russo said.
Coffman thought for a minute, and one of Heath’s attorneys said, “This is very irregular...”
“With all the confusion here... I guess it can’t hurt to see this evidence.”
“Uh, hear it, Your Honor,” Russo said. “It’s a recording. I gotta go outside and get Gary Durey, he’s the BCA representative to the task force.”
After more objections, Coffman decided they would listen. Durey was brought in, carrying a briefcase. He took out a portable CD player and two small speakers, already wired into the CD player, set them up, and pushed Play.
The recording was from Virgil’s iPhone interview with Hinton. The full recording took fifteen minutes, and when it finished, Durey told Coffman, “This was a voluntary interview, and this is the man who is missing and is now believed to have been murdered. We are now checking the DNA from the blood from his van against DNA taken from his home. We do know that the blood in his van, type A, is the same as Hinton’s blood type.”
Coffman glanced at Heath’s attorneys. Clayton said “Your Honor, this is ridiculous. We don’t know the history, the provenance, of this supposed confession...”
Coffman interrupted: “We do know, however, if Agent Durey is trying to pull a fast one with a faked-up interview, I’ll put him in jail.” He looked at Durey: “Is that clear?”
“Very,” Durey said.
Coffman stood up: “I’ll think all this over and have a ruling by the end of the day. In the meantime, Mr. Morely, there will be no further action on this warrant. You will not do any further search at Mr. Heath’s home. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And you will so instruct the investigators?”
“Yes, sir.”
“So let’s all go to work,” Coffman said. “I will have my clerk contact the U.S. Attorney and Mr. Heath’s attorneys before the end of the day, with my decision.”
There was a chorus of thank-yous, and Coffman picked up his suitcoat and went out a side door.
—
The attorneys, withDurey and Russo, adjourned to the hallway where Lucas, Virgil, and a half-dozen other cops and FBI agents were waiting. Heath’s attorneys walked over to him, and as the U.S. Attorney stood poking a finger at Russo’s chest, Heath, who’d been listening to Clayton, erupted:
“I’ve never had anything like this experience,” he said, so loud that everybody else shut up to listen. “I am the victim of some of the worst, most vile, police work you could possibly imagine. They arranged for their accusations to be leaked to the television stations. Even though I’m innocent of all these ridiculous charges, I believe I am already ruined, in the eyes of the public. There’s no way back from that.”
Clayton: “We’ll talk about some possible civil remedies...”
“Civil remedies? Will they go to social media and repair my reputation? No.”
His face was glistening with sweat, and he dragged a jacket sleeve across his forehead. “I’ve done nothing but good with my charities; I’ve never taken a nickel from them. I don’t need to take anickel. I’m quite... well off. And now, I find myself crucified. Crucified!”
—
