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“So, no, there wouldn’t be credit card records. And if someone wanted to plant such a bomb anytime in advance of the explosion, hypothetically, would that be possible?”
“Yes. That building had no metal detectors. They couldn’t. Exhibits were coming through the doors, being set up and changed out nonstop. Someone could have wired up the bomb, brought it into the building. Could have left a fire extinguisher anywhere it wouldn’t have looked out of place, including as a swap for an active fire extinguisher. Easy enough to slap a glob of C-4 onto a girder.
“In fact,” Clapper said, “hypothetically, if a person had a degree in science and a working knowledge of explosives, it would be ridiculously easy.”
“Thank you, sir. That’s all.”
With a stern look the judge silenced the whispers that swept through the gallery. Then Connor Grant stood up and said to Clapper, “Just a couple more questions for you, sir. Hypothetically, you say, a person could have left a bomb in Sci-Tron. Ridiculously easy. The implication is that even you could do it, isn’t that right?”
“Hypothetically,” Clapper said drily.
“Did you plant the bombs in that building?”
“No. I did not.”
“Well, I didn’t do it, either. That’s all I have for you, sir.”
CHAPTER 40
AFTER CLAPPER LEFT the stand, Yuki called Margaret Callahan, a motherly-looking thirtysomething woman in a peach-colored suit and tortoiseshell glasses. She told the court that she was a bank teller and had been on her way home from the Chase Bank at Embarcadero Center when she’d heard what she thought was a sonic boom and had seen the explosion of glass filling the sky. She’d taken a video with her phone.
Yuki asked, “Is there anyone in this courtroom you recognize from that evening of August 3?”
“Yes.” She pointed to Grant. “I saw the defendant there.”
Yuki teed up her video presentation. Len opened the screen, adjusted it so that the jury could see, and asked the court officers to dim the lights.
Yuki pressed the remote, and after the first frames appeared, Connor Grant objected and Yuki paused the video.
“Judge, this isn’t fair. The video will only serve to prejudice and inflame the jury.”
Yuki said, “Your Honor, this video shows the scene at Sci-Tron in the immediate aftermath of the bombing. The jury needs to see the effects of this crime in order to render a verdict.”
“Overruled, Mr. Grant. Let’s see the pictures,” said the judge.
Yuki turned he
r attention back to her witness and the frozen first second of the video, and asked, “Will you please describe this image?”
Callahan said, “That’s the defendant in the left front section of the picture, facing what had been Sci-Tron. A few seconds later he turned for a moment toward where I was standing.”
Yuki advanced the video, which revealed the defendant’s face.
“How did he appear to you, Ms. Callahan?” Yuki asked.
“Delighted,” said the witness.
“Could you narrate the rest of this two-minute video?”
Yuki started up the video again. Now the camera was pointing directly at the crowd that was racing away from the explosion and directly toward where Callahan stood with her phone.
The video was of medium-grade resolution, but even when the shot was marred by shaking or jostling, the image of the skeletal remains of the museum, the whooping sounds of sirens as ambulances and fire engines screamed up to the pier, the distant image of a survivor being pulled from the wreckage, brought the full horror of this scene into courtroom 2A.
Sounds from the gallery competed with the audio. Cries were heard. An elderly man moaned loudly, then rushed from his seat and ran toward the exit. A woman followed him out.
Yuki asked for the lights to be turned up, and when the doors were again closed, she thanked the witness. A clearly angry Connor Grant stood and approached her.
He greeted her and then said, “Ms. Callahan, can you connect me in any way to that explosion?”
