False Convictions Read Online Free PDF

has an equal and opposite reaction,” she said. “When something pushes me away, I tend to push back.”
    Graham smiled, offering her a chair at the corner table next to the window. “I had you figured that way.”
    “I’ll tell you what Ralph can do,” Casey said, nodding at the car. “Have him go back twenty years and find out how many people
     owned white BMWs in this town and who they were. I can’t imagine there were a lot,” Casey said, looking around at the squalid
     buildings and decrepit narrow homes beside the prison. “How about having him track down this Katania, the girlfriend. That
     might help us, too.”
    Graham nodded and walked out to the car before giving Casey a thumbs-up and returning to their table. A waitress gave them
     menus along with a basket of chips and salsa, and they were soon joined by a lanky young man in a gray suit with skin as pale
     as skim milk and blotches that matched his raspberry tie. Graham introduced him as Marty Barrone, patting the young man on
     the shoulder.
    “Marty’s firm has done some tax work of sorts for me,” Graham said. “Sometimes you need to get another set of eyes on things
     from afar.”
    “I’ve seen you on
Nancy Grace
,” Barrone said. His red-rimmed eyes were weepy and only the hint of a mustache shaded his upper lip. His dark hair hung limp
     across a wide brow and he stuck a pinkie into his ear, working it around for a moment before dropping his hand to his side.
    “He won’t ask,” Graham said, grinning, “but before this is over you’ll have to give him an autograph.”
    Barrone’s pale blue eyes went to the floor, and his cheeks blazed as he shook Casey’s hand then took the seat across from
     her.
    “Our motion for a new trial and your pro hac vice admission with Judge Kollar is set for this afternoon,” Barrone said, beaming
     as if he’d performed a miracle. Casey would need to be admitted pro hac vice into the state of New York to try the case, if
     there was one. First they’d need to succeed in their motion for a new trial based on undiscovered DNA evidence.
    “You’re a lawyer?” Casey asked, trying not to sound too incredulous.
    Barrone nodded and dug into his ear again with that same pinkie. “And a CPA.”
    “How long have you been practicing?” Casey asked.
    Barrone’s face went from pink to red. “I graduated in May.”
    Casey crimped her lips and gave Graham a look.
    “Things around here usually move like molasses on ice,” Graham said, dipping a chip in some salsa and waving it at Barrone.
     “But Marty’s a fourth-generation lawyer in this town and his uncle ran Judge Kollar’s first campaign. It’s not a silver bullet,
     but he’ll be able to push things along for us. In a small town like this everyone likes to help each other, as long as you’re
     from here.”
    “Why not get the uncle, then?” Casey asked. “Who wrote the motions?”
    “I had some of the staff lawyers from the Project put all that together,” Graham said. “They can do these in their sleep,
     but Marty filed them.”
    “Okay,” Casey said slowly to Marty, “how much do you know about procedure?”
    “I got a B in Civil Procedure,” Marty said, raising his head up.
    “Okay. This is criminal, though.”
    Marty dropped his head.
    “We’ll work through it,” Casey said to him before turning her sights on Graham. “You’ve got everything all laid out: Local
     counsel with connections. An investigator who doubles as a bodyguard.”
    “It’s my curse,” Graham said, crunching a chip. “I’m thinking ten, twelve moves ahead. I can’t help it.”
    “Don’t tell me you’re one of those guys who uses a sports analogy for everything. I live in Dallas. Do you know how many judges
     think they’re Tom Landry?”
    “I think of you as a player, too.” Graham said.
    “So, what’s
our
next move?” Casey asked.
    Graham shrugged and smiled through a mouthful of food. “You tell me.”
    “After I get admitted by the