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ORDERS TO KILL -- THE TRUTH BEHIND THE MURDER OF MARTIN LUTHER KING |
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Chapter 27: Breakthroughs: January-April 15, 1994 IN AN INTERVIEW with the Tennessean on January 7, 1994, attorney general Pierotti said that he was going to tell the grand jury to go ahead and listen to what Chastain had to say. The foreman, Herbert Robinson, said that even though Chastain was "a pain" they would hear him sometime after January 18, when the new grand jury was formed. (At the time of this book going to press Wayne would still be waiting to be called.) I found this appalling in light of attorney general Canale's strong undertaking to the jury at James's March 10, 1969, guilty plea hearing. At that time he pledged that "if any evidence was ever presented that showed there was a conspiracy" he would take "prompt and vigorous action in searching out and asking that an indictment be returned. ..." Fortunately we had already decided not to wait for this to happen but to proceed with the filing of a petition for a trial. On January 7, I flew to Nashville and met with James for about two hours before participating with him in a public television interview, which was to be aired on the following Sunday. He was in good spirits and was particularly interested in the possibility of using the imminent petition as a means of obtaining the declassification of relevant files, reports, and documents. The interview went well. When the interviewer raised a question about James's ex-wife Anna's claim that he confessed to her over a prison telephone, James pointed out that these telephone calls were monitored and that there was a sign stating this by each phone, so that he was unlikely to discuss anything of a sensitive nature on the phone, much less confess guilt. I also met again with former Commercial Appeal reporter Steve Tompkins. We had spoken several times by telephone during the intervening months, and he had decided to assist me in his spare time. He agreed to reach out to certain contacts of his in greatly varying positions in army intelligence, the Pentagon, and the Special Forces. He had no way of knowing what the response would be, and though he would try to put me in touch with the various people who might have answers to some of my questions, he doubted that they would meet with me face to face. First of all, he said, this was because I was a lawyer -- and these guys distrusted all lawyers. Secondly, I was James Earl Ray's attorney and this made their assistance even more risky. Tompkins said that from his experience these people had always kept their word. Though they would not volunteer any information, they had always answered his questions truthfully. A couple of the Special Forces "grunts" (noncommissioned officers) would likely cooperate. In addition to covert operations relating to domestic turbulence in 1967, they had been involved in gunrunning activities into New Orleans. The operations were coordinated by a master sergeant who was a part of their group. The sales were made to Carlos Marcello's operation and delivered to barges in a cove bordering property owned by Marcello. A man named Zippy or Zip Chimento handled these transactions for Marcello. The soldiers were given the name of Joe Coppola, who was connected with the Louisiana Highway Patrol, in case they had any trouble transporting the guns by truck. When I checked I learned that Zip Chimento was in fact a confidant and associate of Marcello and Joe Coppola was the commissioner of the Highway Patrol. ** ON MONDAY, January 10, Wayne filed the petition for the trial along with five volumes of exhibits and two video exhibits. Wayne and I then drove out to Jim Lawson's old church, Centenary Methodist, where a press conference had been scheduled to call for an independent grand jury investigation. When we got there a number of participants, including Jim Lawson, who had flown in from Los Angeles, had already arrived. The Reverend William Sloane Coffin, the former chaplain of Yale University and pastor of Riverside Church in New York, whom I had not seen in sixteen years, came in shortly after with John Frohnmeyer, a lawyer who had resigned from his post as the Bush administration's appointee to the National Endowment for the Humanities and was in the Freedom Forum First Amendment Center at Vanderbilt. Rev. Coffin had just arrived to take up a post there on sabbatical. The group also included Rev. C. T. Vivian, Dr. King's former aide; Rev. Joseph Agne, director of racial justice for the National Council of Churches in New York; Rev. Ken Sehested of the Baptist Peace Fellowship in Memphis; Rev. Mark Matheny, chairman of the Asbury United Methodist District Council on Ministries in Memphis; Rev. Herbert Lester, pastor of Centenary United Methodist; and Rev. William Vaughan III, pastor of Good Samaritan United Methodist Church. I briefed the group and answered questions for about two hours. The following two-hour press conference focused on the group's commitment that a grand jury should independently investigate the murder of Dr. King under the leadership of its own foreman and an independent prosecutor not associated in any way with the Shelby County district attorney general. All agreed that the Shelby County D.A. couldn't be regarded as an objective, impartial investigator. Wayne and I left the meeting feeling uplifted. Later that day we learned that the petition had gone to the court of Judge Joe Brown, whom Wayne held in high regard, and a hearing had been scheduled for the following morning. The next morning Wayne and I arrived at the Criminal Justice Center to find television cameras already ensconced in the courtroom. During the brief hearing, the judge raised the question of whether or not our petition could prevail because of prior decisions that had been reached on some of the issues, primarily related to overturning a plea of guilty. We argued that those prior decisions were made without the benefit of the new evidence we now sought to produce which proved James's actual innocence of the crime. The judge asked both sides to prepare memoranda of law on the issues, scheduling a hearing for April 4, the twenty-sixth anniversary of the assassination. Early that afternoon John McFerren and a friend, Freddie Granberry, came down from Somenrille for a meeting in the restaurant at the Ramada hotel. McFerren promised that this time he would not "chicken out" and that he was ready to sing like a bird. He said that he recalled hearing from a local man, Tommy Wright, that on Saturday mornings Liberto would meet with a high-level Tennessee state official at his law office in Fayette County. Tommy said that they would meet regularly on Saturday mornings. Alarm bells went off. I recalled that Randy Rosenson had insisted that in 1978, around the time of his interviews by HSCA staff, he had been visited by the same high-level Tennessee state official, who tried to get him to say that he had been acquainted with James Earl Ray. If Rosenson had known James then he could have dropped the cigarette pack containing the card himself. If he didn't know James then someone else had to have left the pack and card behind. James had always stated that he believed the card was linked to Raul. Since the state and the HSCA had taken the position that Raul did not exist, any evidence to the contrary had to be a problem for them. In retrospect this could explain why official pressure might have been put on Rosenson to say that he knew James. At the time I couldn't understand why this official would be at all interested in this matter. In light of the connection now being alleged between Liberto and the official, it made more sense. McFerren said that another source of information was his lawyer from Jackson, Tennessee, Mr. H. Ragan. Ragan had handled McFerren's divorce and had become quite friendly with him. He had told McFerren quietly, years ago, that the same state official "handled" matters and looked out for the interests of organized crime in Tennessee. McFerren thought that Ragan would confirm the relationship. Ragan repeatedly refused to speak with me. He appeared frightened and certainly did not want to continue the discussion he had previously had with John McFerren. I had better luck with Tommy Wright. He remembered seeing "fat" Frank, the produce man, in 1968 at the law offices of the high-level Tennessee state official who had allegedly visited Randy Rosenson prior to one of his HSCA interviews. At 2:30, I parted with McFerren and Granberry and met with retired MPD Captain Tommy Smith. In response to my question, Smith confided that various senior officers of the MPD were regularly on the take back in 1968, but he didn't know any details. He said that he was out of the loop because they knew that he wasn't interested. He also said that the police officers who went to the FBI Academy -- N. E. Zachary, Robert Cochran, Glynn King and others -- formed a special clique. Tommy Smith then surprised me by saying that Zachary had called him before he testified at the TV trial, apparently in an attempt to influence what he would say. Tommy said that was probably one of the reasons for his decision to testify. He said he told Zachary that he wasn't going to say what Zachary wanted him to confirm. My mind flashed back to Glynn King's testimony and his explicit statement that Charles Stephens was sober just after the assassination. In light of what so many other witnesses said, King's observations were inexplicable. That evening, Wayne and I went to visit John McFerren's sister Sallie Boyd, who had arranged for us to interview Margaret Taler. As the assistant director of food services for St. Jude's hospital, Toler used to order food from M. E. Carter but, she said, the food was always delivered in Frank Liberto's trucks. The invoices were also sent by Liberto's company, and frequently some of them were for food and produce that was never delivered. She estimated that the hospital lost between $90,000 and $100,000 per year as a result of this scam. Jowers had maintained that the money for his operation was brought to Memphis in an M. E. Carter truck. Frank Holt had earlier described to me Frank Liberto's regular presence at M. E. Carter. Toler's recollections seemed to confirm the relationship between M. E. Carter and Liberto. *** IN LATE JANUARY I WAS finally able to speak with Betty Spates. After reading the letter I sent to her, she had told Cliff Dates that she and Bobbi would only talk to me. She said that Jowers, Akins, and others said they were interested in doing a book or movie about the case, and wanted her to change her story to say that she saw a black man hand the rifle to Loyd in the doorway of the kitchen, seconds after the shooting. She refused. Jowers himself had called her and asked her to tell this story, and Willie Akins came around with a tape recorder and a tape that she was supposed to listen to help her get the story straight. When she refused to go along with this farce, Akins told her that she had "blown it" for all of them. He said that they could have split $300,000 if she had cooperated. Just before Jowers went on Prime Time Live, when Sam Donaldson was in Memphis filming interviews for the program, Akins brought Donaldson or someone from the program around to Spates's house. She wouldn't let them in though Akins began to bang on the windows. She even heard the ABC person say, "I don't want to bother this lady, if she doesn't want to talk to me." Eventually they left. Betty totally refuted Jowers's claims about Frank Holt and strongly insisted, as before, that when she saw lowers running toward the back door there was no one with him. We agreed to meet the next time I was in Memphis. In a telephone conversation in mid-January Betty told me that the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation (TBI) had called her and wanted to interview her. She wanted to know what I thought she should do. I advised her to see them and answer their questions truthfully. Then, over the last weekend of January, John Billings told me that he learned that Pierotti had asked the TBI to conduct an investigation into the new lowers evidence. He said that they had already spoken to McCraw on two occasions and McCraw said he had stuck to his story. Billings called the Memphis TBI office and spoke with the investigator, who appeared to have very little knowledge about the case. When he offered to be interviewed and volunteered Ken Herman as well, Billings was told that the attorney general would have to approve such an interview. He would check. The impression Billings received was that they wouldn't be interviewed, and that by using the TBI Pierotti was distancing himself from direct responsibility for the investigation while still controlling the enquiry. As it turned out, they were never interviewed. I wrote to Pierotti offering any reasonable assistance to the TBI investigation of the new evidence. I told him that James was interested in being released and not in solving the murder. I also advised Pierotti (hoping that the word would reach others) that if released, James intended to leave the country, but while he stayed inside the investigation aimed at establishing his innocence would, of course, continue. When questioned by the Tennessean about the results of his investigation, Pierotti had claimed that the witnesses had retracted their stories. Following this comment I called Betty and asked her what had happened in her interview. She told me that they only asked her about statements Ken Herman had made about what she had said. Since she was angry with him, believing that he had betrayed her trust, I was concerned about what her responses might have been. *** DURING THIS TIME STEVE TOMPKlNS called and left an urgent message. When I returned his call he said that to his surprise he had received a telegram from a Special Forces contact he had previously interviewed, whom I will call Warren, who now lived in Latin America. The message was simply that "... he now knew who Dr. William Pepper was" and that he was prepared to answer any questions I would put to him through Tompkins. Under no circumstances would he meet directly with me. The date he set for the meeting, outside of the U.S., was the last weekend in March. Steve Tompkins was willing to go as a consultant and put my questions to Warren, who he said had never lied to him, although, on occasion, he would refuse to discuss a matter or say that he did not know. Based on what Tompkins had told me about him, I knew that he and his partner, whom I will call Murphy, who lived in the same country but who had never met Tompkins, had vital information. He said that though I would have the names of and personal details about Warren, Murphy, and perhaps others, one of the conditions would be that I agree not to name them. Without that understanding there could be no cooperation. If I broke my word on this issue he thought it likely that both of us would be killed. I agreed to the condition but was unclear on whether I could name any participants who had since died. He said simply, "That's your call." Since he would be working for me, he had no problem with my using his name. He would provide detailed written reports. Through James, I got another lead on the army's role. He had asked me to contact a private investigator named Alexander Taylor following a meeting he had had with him some while ago. The former intelligence officer told me he would do what he could to help our investigation and mentioned a telephone discussion he recently had had with the retired former Army Assistant Chief of Staff for Intelligence Major General William P. Yarborough. Taylor reported that Yarborough believed that it was time for the American people to be told how close America was to civil war during the late 1960s and how extensive was the military preparation. Taylor said he had heard independently in the autumn of last year that "someone new" (he assumed it was me) had come on the scene and was particularly thorough. As a result, he thought the whole picture of the role of the military might evolve. With respect to the King case, Taylor volunteered that the time could well be right for a deal to be made, as a result of which James might walk. Taylor offered to reach out for a meeting with Vice President Gore through his congressman. I was unclear about Taylor's motivation and pessimistic about the chance of success but not opposed to such an effort being made. In any event, nothing came of it. *** THEN, on February 22, 1994, after nearly six years of my urging, Amnesty International entered the case and wrote to the attorney general. They specifically asked him what he was doing about the new evidence and expressed their wish that it be thoroughly aired in open court. Pierotti wrote back on February 28 advising Amnesty that James was in prison not because he was a political prisoner but because he murdered Dr. King. He termed the new evidence "baseless fabrications." After a further exchange of letters, it became clear that he was not going to answer their specific questions. Amnesty decided not to pursue the matter further. There seemed to be no end to Pierotti's arrogance. I believed he knew that aspects of Jowers's story had been confirmed, and yet he continued to maintain that it was all a sham. *** ON MARCH 7, 8, and 9 I spent a total of thirteen hours with Betty Spates. She agreed to tell me her story from the beginning, adding that she had been racking her brains, trying to remember each detail about what she observed on April 4, 1968. I met her in her darkened home and for the entirety of my visits we sat at her dining room table, interrupted from time to time by one or another of her adult children. She told the story of her involvement with Jowers and the grill as she had always told it, adding details. She said, for example, that after Loyd's wife divorced him, he bought a white Cadillac identical to the one that she had owned and driven when they were married. There were a few surprises, however, when she related the events of April 4, 1968. Now Betty remembered going over to the grill just before noon on that day and noticing that Loyd was nowhere around. She went back to the kitchen at the rear to look for him. The door was slightly ajar. She was only in the kitchen for a short time when Loyd came through the back door carrying a rifle. The gun had a fairly light brown stock and handle and a barrel that appeared to be of normal length; she did not remember seeing a scope. She said that Loyd did not appear to be in a hurry, nor did he seem to be under stress. He was almost nonchalant. She was startled and asked, "Loyd, what are you doing with that gun?" He replied, half jokingly, "I'm going to use it on you, if I catch you with a nigger." She said, "Loyd, you know I wouldn't do that," and he said he was only kidding, that she knew he'd never hurt her. He put the gun down alongside a keg of beer and then, as though he had second thoughts, picked it up again and proceeded to break it down in front of her. He then carried the pieces through the grill, went out the front door, and turned left, walking several feet to where his old brown station wagon was parked. As she watched through the window he put the broken-down rifle into the back of the wagon, looking around afterward to see if anyone was watching. Then he came back inside. She confirmed that during the course of that afternoon she was in and out of the grill, going back and forth to Seabrook. Although Jowers always discouraged her from being around on Thursdays when his wife would drop by, that Thursday he seemed especially ill at ease and kept chasing her out. That only made Betty more suspicious that he was cheating on her, and she was in the grill when Jowers's wife came in around 4:00 p.m. Mrs. Jowers walked straight up to her and called her a whore and told her to get out. Loyd intervened, telling his wife to get out herself and directing Betty to get behind the counter. Sullen and speechless, Loyd's wife stalked out. After a while Betty went back across the street to Seabrook, returning to the grill to check on Loyd sometime before 6:00. She recalled Bobbi was still there. She often "hung on " to maximize her tips after her shift finished at 3:30. Rosetta and Rosie Lee had gone home. Loyd, however, was again nowhere in sight. Eventually, she went back toward the kitchen, noticing that this time the door between the restaurant section and the kitchen was tightly closed. Thinking that this was unusual, she made her way into the kitchen where she noticed that the door leading to the backyard was ajar. Soon after, she recalled hearing what sounded like a loud firecracker, and then within seconds she looked out and saw Jowers rushing from the brush area through the door, carrying another rifle. When she first saw him he was about ten to fifteen feet from the door. He was out of breath, she said, and white as a ghost. His hair was in disarray, and the knees of his trousers were wet and muddy as though he had been kneeling in the soggy grass or brush area. When he caught his breath he didn't appear angry, but plaintively said to her, "You wouldn't ever do anything to hurt me, would you?" She said, "Of course I wouldn't, Loyd." Without another word he moved quickly to the door leading into the grill, which opened right next to the counter on the left. In one quick step, with the rifle at his side, he was behind the counter and she saw him place the gun on a shelf under the counter and push it farther back. She remembered that the rifle was distinctive. It had a dark mahogany-brown stock, a scope, and a short barrel that made the gun look like a toy gun. There was something screwed or fixed onto the barrel somehow, fitting over it and increasing its diameter. In this statement, for the first time, Betty had spoken of two separate instances of seeing Loyd Jowers bringing a gun in from the brush area behind the kitchen. It was somewhat worrying that this was the first time she had mentioned a second gun. On the other hand, this account corroborated what McCraw had said all along about Jowers showing him the gun under the counter. Betty went on to say that a few months after the killing in 1968, she was visited by three persons who she believed were government officials. One was black, another white, and the third appeared to be Spanish or Latino. They offered her and her sisters new identities, relocation, and money for, it was said, their own protection. They refused, supported by their mother, and the men left. Two of the same men returned about five years later. (This would have been around the time that lames was being given an evidentiary hearing in federal court.) The offer was repeated and again refused. In the early 1980s, in addition to the incident when Akins fired at her and her two sons, one evening he came in through the back door of her house when she had just returned, exhausted, from work. As she was seated on her sofa, he pulled out his pistol and fired three shots into the sofa, missing her by inches. As she thought about it, Betty believed that Akins was only trying to frighten and not to kill her. Betty signed detailed affidavits in support of all of these events. When we filed Betty's primary affidavit with the court the Tennessean published its contents. Shortly afterward attorney general Pierotti leaked a statement taken by the TBI on January 25 that we found distressing. It was purportedly under oath, handwritten by TBI special agent John Simmons and witnessed by one of Pierotti's investigators, Mark Glanker. In it Betty denied seeing Jowers with the rifle at 6:00 p.m. and further denied having any information supporting James's innocence. When I asked Betty about it she did not recall giving the specific answers recorded. Once again she said they only asked her to respond to specific points in Ken Herman's statement. It did appear, however, that she had signed the TBI statement. I realized that I would not get to the bottom of the discrepancies until I could obtain the statement and copies of the complete tape recordings of the TBI interview. This latter would not be possible unless we had an evidentiary hearing and we could obtain them in discovery. At the end of March, however, I was able to obtain a copy of the TBI interview statement of Betty Spates. On its face the handwritten statement dated January 25, 1994 appeared to contradict the affidavit she had given me on March 8, 1994. When I showed it to her and asked her how she could have signed it, she said she didn't read it because her glasses were broken. It was read to her , and the investigator wrote as he asked her questions, telling her not to volunteer information but to simply answer questions about Herman's statement. She said the men from the attorney general's office and the TBI made her afraid. Betty went out of her way to assure me that she now wanted to testify and to clear her name of any hint of her being a liar. For some time I had known that Betty had a brain tumor that affected her memory from time to time, but until then I had not taken it seriously. The tumor also resulted in her having blinding headaches. She was afraid to undergo surgery because of what she believed was the risk of permanent brain damage. *** SID CARTHEW LIVES IN ENGLAND. In 1967-1968 he was a merchant seaman sailing on both cargo and passenger ships destined for ports around the world. He frequently traveled to North America and spent time in the U.S. Gulf ports as well as in Montreal. In Montreal he would frequent the Neptune Tavern on West Commissioner's Street, because it was right down near the docks, and was a hangout for merchant seamen. It was in that bar on two occasions that he met a man named Raul. Carthew came upon the TV trial by accident. Knowing nothing about the case before seeing the trial, Carthew became interested when he heard James Earl Ray testify about being in the Neptune in late July and August of 1967. His interest was heightened when James went on to describe his meetings in that bar with Raul. Then Carthew heard prosecutor Hickman Ewing ridicule James's contention not only that Raul could have manipulated James into being a patsy for the killing of Dr. King, but that he even existed. Carthew tried desperately to contact me, getting nowhere until he contacted the General Council of the Bar in London which gave him my address. He assured me that Raul did indeed exist. Carthew said Raul approached him at the Neptune sometime in 1967. Raul had struck up a conversation about the sale of guns. Carthew had a passing interest, and Raul said he would sell him some Browning 9mm handguns. Carthew said he would take four, and Raul, apparently thinking he meant four boxes, entered into negotiations. He quickly turned off, however, when it became clear that Carthew was only talking about four weapons rather than boxes. Carthew said Raul muttered something about it being typical of the English, who never had enough money to pay for anything. Sid Carthew described Raul as being about 5'8" tall and weighing approximately 145 pounds. He had a dark, Mediterranean-like complexion and dark brown hair. (This was consistent with James's description of Raul.) Carthew remembered him saying that the guns were stolen from a military base and that the price included the fee for the master sergeant who organized the supply and who, according to Raul, would deliver them himself to his ship in exchange for cash. This dovetailed with Tompkins's account of the New Orleans gunrunning activity of the Special Forces soldiers. In addition Carthew remembered Raul asking him about the possibility of someone going to England on board a ship such as his. He told him that it would not be a problem, insisting that seamen tried to help out any person in trouble. He said that Raul seemed skeptical about the arrangements. It was as though he was looking for an assurance that it wouldn't work. In any event he did not pursue the matter. I couldn't believe my good fortune. Carthew said that he believed that a shipmate and friend of his named Joe Sheehan, with whom Carthew had lost touch, was also present at the table in the bar when the discussion about the guns was going on. We eventually tracked down Sheehan, who said he wasn't at the Neptune that particular night but confirmed that Carthew had mentioned the incident to him sometime afterward at the annual general meeting of the National Union of seamen in May 1968. *** THE HEARING ORIGINALLY SCHEDULED FOR April 4 had been put off until April 15. Judge Joe Brown's courtroom was practically empty at 11 a.m. that morning except the jury box which was jammed with the media. The state's side of the table had the attorney general and two assistant attorneys general crammed together, with Wayne and me sitting on the defense side. The handful of spectators included Ken Herman, John Billings, Lewis Garrison, and, to my surprise, Willie Akins. After the preliminaries, the state (through assistant attorney general William Campbell) argued on behalf of its motion to dismiss the petition. Their argument was that on a strict interpretation of Tennessee law the petition had to be denied. While admitting that James might claim relief under federal law, Campbell argued that after all the time that had elapsed he was technically precluded under state law, essentially because he had entered a plea of guilty. This would mean that anyone who had pleaded guilty, whether that plea was coerced or not, would never be entitled to a trial, even in a case like this where new evidence of actual innocence came to light. When my turn came, I reviewed the factual history of the case and argued for relief based upon the guarantees of rights contained in both the Tennessee and U.S. constitutions. I contended that the court should examine the new evidence pertaining to the actual innocence of James. I argued that it was now substantially clear that the guilty plea was coerced and that in any event the state should not be allowed to deny a trial in a case where the defendant is actually innocent. The state's blatant attempt to separate Tennessee law and procedure from the minimal obligations required under federal law was unconstitutional. Though the hearing was to focus on the law, I argued the law by substantially elaborating upon and applying the facts. This enabled me to put a long list of suppressed factual evidence and factual discrepancies on the record and of course to be heard by the judge and the media. Pierotti spoke for about 15 minutes as part of the state's rebuttal argument and clearly appeared to be agitated. He made the mistake of actually addressing me, asking whether or not I had represented one of the Ray brothers before the HSCA. This allowed me to rise and interrupt him to explain to the court (and put on the record) the circumstances that led to my representing Jerry Ray. At the end of the argument the judge complimented both sides and then, referring to lengthy notes, stated that although the state might be technically correct, requiring him to deny the petition, nevertheless he was going to allow us to put forward evidence. This evidentiary record would be available to an appellate court, he said, as well as to history. In an impassioned reference to the importance of Dr. King, he said history compelled him to allow as much information as possible to be placed before the public under the auspices of his court. The state was stunned. Campbell inquired what this meant. The judge said that he would not finalize or file any order until after the proffer (submission of evidence) was over. We were elated. When asked by reporters outside of the courtroom what he was going to do, the attorney general responded that he was "... going to pull out the rest of my hair," and labeled our case "garbage." It was an extraordinary result. If he had explicitly ruled in our favor and granted a trial or a full evidentiary hearing, the state would have appealed, and considering the inclination of the court of appeals and the Supreme Court, he would likely have been overturned. In any event we would have been off on the appellate trail. By not finalizing any ruling (effectively pocketing it), he kept the matter before him and could thus allow us to call witnesses and submit evidence. We intended, for example, to file a motion asking to test the rifle and the bullets in evidence. Whether or not the judge would go so far as to order a trial at the conclusion of our evidence remained to be seen, but following the hearing on April 15 I believed that there was a chance.
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