“It’s somewhat irregular, but I’ll allow it,” Judge Vader said.
The DA looked disgruntled, but returned to his seat.
She called her first pack-member witness. “Wendell Wolfe.”
Wendell rose and carried a book with him to the stand. Konrad had thought of him as a father figure. Even though he hadn’t seen the man in years, he still looked spry, not a day over two hundred.
As soon as he was sworn in and sitting on the witness seat, Roz asked him to state his name and occupation.
“Wendell Wolfe. I teach mathematics at the Newton Preparatory School for Boys.”
“And how do you know the defendant?”
“Konrad was our dean at the school.”
“The dean?” Roz looked impressed and aimed her expression toward the jury. “Well, then, there must be pictures of him there.”
“Oh, yes. I brought an old yearbook.”
“May I have it please?”
Wendell handed it to her, and she held it up, walking it down the line of jurors. Right on the cover it said, “Newton Preparatory School for Boys, 1990.”
“Now, let’s see that picture,” she said. Opening the book, she flipped a few pages. Konrad knew she’d find a nice full-page black-and-white photograph of him. He didn’t look much different, except his hair was very short, not more than an inch long.
“Ah, here it is.” She opened the book wide and walked the picture down the line of jurors again. “As you can see, Mr. Wolfensen’s hair is quite short in this picture.” She turned back to Wendell. “And when was this taken?”
“In February of 1990. Here, I have the original with the date stamped on it.” He fished a four-by-six photograph out of his inner jacket pocket.
Roz walked over to the evidence table and picked up the bag with the two long, blond hairs in it. “Interesting. Here we have evidence of Mr. Wolfensen’s DNA, taken from the crime scene, but these hairs are two feet long, as previously stated by a Boston police detective. If he committed this crime on March 18, 1990, his hair would have had to grow an astounding twenty-three inches in one month.”
The courtroom laughed, and murmurs broke out everywhere.
“I’m sure I know what my opponent will ask, so I’ll just ask it now. How do we know this photograph hasn’t been altered?” Roz asked.
“We have a number of ways to prove it. There are the negatives, still catalogued by the photographer, along with the dates. We also had a portrait commissioned the year before, with the date plainly written under the artist’s signature.”
“I see. You didn’t happen to bring that with you, did you?”
“No, but we could go and get it, if you like.”
“Or perhaps you could have someone back at the school take a photograph of it and fax it here?”
“Certainly.” He looked over at Konrad and smiled. “The picture still hangs in its place of honor, reminding us all how much we miss him.”
Roz smiled at Konrad. “Did you hear that? I told you they weren’t holding any grudges.”
I heard.A lump formed in his throat. He didn’t realize how much he’d missed them either, until they had all filed into the courtroom ready to help him out, like in the old days, before Petroski. The next words he heard astounded him so much, he wasn’t sure he’d heard right.
“So if I’d called you as a character witness, it sounds as if you’d have given him a good review.”
“Absolutely. We’d really like to have him back.”
What the—What about Petroski?
“I guess there’s no better compliment than that. Is his position open?” Roz asked.
“It is now. The board of directors decided that his replacement wasn’t the kind of man the school needed. Mr. Wolfensen is.”
