—
The Spectator. He came and went throughout the trial, always choosing a different seat and always with a different look. He changed caps, eyeglasses, clothing, even shaved a full beard after the first two days of testimony. He skipped a few hours here and there, then half a day, then showed up dressed in leather. Not a single person in the courtroom knew his name and no one noticed him.
His name was Delgado, and he worked for a tight and well-organized gang of career criminals determined to build a casino on the Tappacola reservation. His duties varied, but his value to the gang centered on his talents with firearms and his ability to eliminate people without leaving a trace of evidence.
As the trial unfolded, Delgado marveled at the State’s case and its incompetence. Unger’s autopsy had been hurried and sloppy. And why not? The causes of death were so obvious, why dig deeper? An analysis of Son’s blood would have revealed the presence of phenobarbital, a strong barbiturate Delgado had injected. Had it been discovered, Delgado had no doubt that the State’s theory would have been slightly altered to include the fact that Son was popping pills before his rendezvous with Eileen. A thorough analysis would have revealed that Son had been unconscious at the time of his death.
In their excitement, the cops had not bothered to dust Junior’s hands for residue. Such a simple and routine test would have told them that he had not fired the .38. His prints were not on the gun, but then Montgomery, the ballistics expert, had speculated that Junior had simply wiped the gun clean.
Nor had the State tested Junior’s blood while he was hospitalized. A test would have revealed some alcohol, as expected, but also chloral hydrate. In the bar Delgado had enticed Junior into a game of darts and had managed to swap bottles of beer.
And the snitches! Delgado listened to their fabrications and worked hard to conceal a smile. Junior’s alleged confessions were a joke. They got it all wrong. Eileen went first. Delgado talked his way into the house, pulled the gun, made her undress in the bedroom, then shot her twice. He carried Son into the bedroom, undressed him, shot him.
The problem with snitches was that they often recanted and changed their stories. Delgado knew this well, as did the men he worked for. As he watched Todd Short and Digger Robles on the stand, and almost chuckled at their fiction, he knew that he would soon get the orders to take them out. Wait for the trial to end, for Junior to be led away, for the endless appeals to begin, and start the process of planning, stalking, waiting. Their testimony was now permanently recorded and could be read into the record in the event of a retrial, though such a scenario did not bother his bosses. Son was dead. Junior would be sidelined long enough. The opposition was crippled. The casino would be built.
9
The first witness called by the defense was a teenager named Heath. His family owned a country store near the small town of Larkin, about thirty miles from the crime scene. The store sold propane for heating and cooking and had a contract with Junior’s employer to collect the empty cylinders and resupply the inventory once a week. Around 2:00 p.m. on that January 17, Junior delivered ten twenty-pound cylinders and picked up ten empty ones. Heath signed the delivery ticket but no specific time was noted.
He testified that it was “around 2:00 p.m., give or take,” but could not be more specific. He said he saw Junior almost every week and that they usually “shot the bull” for a few minutes during each delivery. He estimated that Junior was at his store for less than fifteen minutes.
Swoboda produced a large map of three counties—Walton, Brunswick, and Okaloosa—and marked the locations of Heath’s family’s store and the Mace home.
The second witness called by the defense was Len McGuire, owner of a nursery and garden shop in the town of DeFuniak Springs. Mr. McGuire sold a lot of propane and had done business with Junior’s company for years. On the day of the murders, he remembered Junior arriving on his weekly round at “approximately 3:00 p.m.” He dropped off a dozen cylinders of propane and picked up the empties. He produced a delivery ticket detailing the transaction but it did not note a specific time. It never did, he told the jury.
Since the time of the two deaths was estimated to be between 2:00 and 3:00 p.m., Mr. McGuire would have seen Junior after he had just killed his wife and Son Razko. Swoboda asked him a lot of questions about Junior’s demeanor. Nothing seemed out of order. Same old Junior.
The third witness called by the defense was a retired state trooper named Taggart. With the tiny budget Judge McDover had reluctantly authorized Swoboda to spend on experts, he had hired Taggart for $1,000. Standing in front of the jury box and holding a pointer, Taggart indicated locations on the enlarged map. Number one was the country store where Heath worked. Number two was Mr. McGuire’s garden shop. Number three was the Mace home. Number four was Junior’s employer’s warehouse over in Moreville. Assuming Junior made his delivery at 2:00 p.m. and it consumed about fifteen minutes, as per Heath, then Junior left around 2:15 and drove to Mr. McGuire’s for his next delivery. Taggart had made that drive on three occasions and it took, on average, twenty-three minutes. So, around 2:35, Junior arrived at Mr. McGuire’s, spent fifteen minutes doing what he was supposed to do, and left around 2:50. At that point, he was twenty minutes from his home. If he had hurried there, he could have arrived around 3:10.
According to the pathologist, the deaths occurred between 2:00 and 3:00. However, the pathologist had been quick to explain that this time frame was not exact and could vary half an hour either way.
Even on direct examination, the defense theory was not convincing. A few minutes here and a few minutes there and nothing seemed concrete. Precise times were not logged in. Memories were not that clear. Did Junior make his delivery at 2:00 p.m., or was it more like 1:45? Were they shot at 3:00 p.m., or was it more like 3:30?
On cross-examination, the theory was destroyed. Wag Dunlap walked Taggart along the roads and highways until it was abundantly clear that, in fact, Junior Mace could have completed the delivery to Heath’s family’s store at 2:00 p.m., then raced home because he suspected something, found his wife in bed with his friend, taken care of that business, and hurried away to Mr. McGuire’s place and arrived there shortly after 3:00 p.m., acting as though all was well.