"Developing knowledge of the relationships between the family members and the deceased, as well as business, personal, political, or any other issues that might throw light on the investigation of the crime."

"How many of these interviews did you have?"

Mills spoke from behind him. "Objection. Relevance."

"Sustained."

Washburn couldn't entirely camouflage a disappointed grimace. "The Khalils have widespread business interests, do they not?"

Again: "Objection. Irrelevant."

This time Washburn replied. "Not at all, Your Honor. The People, while never charging Mr. Scholler with the murder of the Khalils, are attempting to insinuate without proof that he was somehow involved in their deaths. I'm wondering if Special Agent Riggio had interviewed anyone among Mr. Khalil's vast business interests who had any connection to Mr. Scholler."

"All right. Overruled. You may answer that question."

To Riggio, it was all the same. Unruffled, she nodded. "Yes, the Khalils had widespread business interests."

"Just here in this country?"

"No. Overseas as well."

"In Iraq?"

"According to the children, yes."

"But you didn't check that information yourself?"

"We were beginning to verify all the information we'd gathered when Mr. Nolan was murdered."

"So," Washburn said, "the answer is no, you didn't check the information about the Khalils' business interests in Iraq, isn't that so?"

"Your Honor!" Mills tried again. "Relevance?"

Washburn said, "It'll be clear in a second, Your Honor."

"All right, but it had better be. Overruled."

"Special Agent Riggio, Mr. Nolan worked for an American security contractor firm in Iraq, did he not? Allstrong Security."

Now Mills was on her feet. "Your Honor, please! We've discussed this before. This fishing expedition is going nowhere and the only purpose to eliciting this hearsay is to suggest a connection between Mr. Nolan and the Khalils, which is unsupported by any evidence."

Washburn knew he could probably get away with at least one outburst per trial. He figured this was as good a time as any, and whirled around on Mills. "There's a whole lot more evidence of Nolan's involvement with the Khalils' murders than of my client's. You just don't want the jury to hear anything that doesn't fit your theory."

Bam! Bam! Bam!

"Mr. Washburn!" Tollson exploded. "Both of you. Enough. Any more of this and somebody's going to get a contempt charge. You're to address your remarks to the bench and not to one another." Tollson stared them down, giving equal time to both. Then, glancing at the wall clock, he said, "I'm calling a ten-minute recess so everyone can cool off."

***

WHEN WASHBURN RESUMED, his was once again the voice of sweet reason. He produced a stack of documents received from the FBI and gave them to Riggio on the stand. "Special Agent Riggio. Using these business records, did you have an opportunity to investigate the fragmentation grenades that you discovered in Mr. Nolan's apartment?"

"Yes."

"And what did you discover?"

"These particular grenades were produced in late two thousand two-if you want the stocking and serial numbers, I've got them, but-"

"That won't be necessary. Go ahead."

"And they were shipped to Iraq in the early weeks after the invasion."

"Do you know if they were delivered to Mr. Scholler's patrol?"

"No."

"No, you don't know, or no, they weren't?"

"They were delivered as part of a consignment to Allstrong Security in Iraq."

"Is there any evidence that Mr. Scholler at any time had possession of these grenades, or shipped them back, by whatever means, to the United States?"

"No."

"Special Agent Riggio, have you any witnesses that reported seeing these grenades in Mr. Scholler's possession at any time?"

"No."

Even though he'd gotten the right answer on the last several questions, Washburn knew it wasn't much. But it was probably all he was going to get. He smiled at the witness. "Thank you," he said. "No further questions."

26

BY THE FOLLOWING TUESDAY AFTERNOON, the weather had turned. A violent early-season storm toppled trees and flooded many of the low-lying streets around the courthouse, playing enough havoc with the morning's traffic patterns that court couldn't be called into session until nearly eleven o'clock, and then only to adjourn almost immediately for an early lunch.