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forensic signature on the edges of shell casing fragments that can, using highly specialized spectral and chemical analyses, be matched with the used shell casing found in the discharged weapon."
    "Thank you, Mr. Kinsel." Alton McBride walked to his table and looked down at the blank legal pad sitting there, giving the jury a few moments to digest Kinsel's testimony.
    With an expression that said he hadn't quite understood the details himself, he approached the witness.
    In his pocket his phone vibrated. He considered briefly asking the judge for a recess but decided against it. Breaking momentum during testimony was a cardinal sin; and besides, regardless of what his investigator had to tell him, the case was locked up.
    "So, Mr. Kinsel, what we are to understand then is that you found plastic shotgun shell casing fragments embedded in the victim's brain?"
    "What was left of it, yes."
    "And these fragments, you were then able to match them precisely and conclusively with the spent shell casing found in Mr. Bartell's shotgun. That being the shotgun found at the scene of the crime?"
    "Correct."
    "And Mr. Kinsel - and please take your time answering this question - are you able to swear to this court, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that these fragments were in fact fired from that same shotgun?"
    "Yes sir, I am," said Kinsel without hesitation, just as they'd rehearsed it.
    "Thank you, Mr. Kinsel." Alton turned and swept his gaze over the jurors. He nodded to himself, tapping a finger on his upper lip, as if digesting this revelation for the first time. Then he turned back to the witness. "Now, when Mr. Bartell was taken into custody was he tested for gunshot residue on his hands?"
    "Yes he was."
    "And what were your findings?"
    "Gunshot residue was found on his right hand."
    "And this tells us that he fired the shotgun in question on that evening?"
    "No, it simply tells us that he fired a weapon containing shotgun shells of a make and manufacturer consistent with those found at the scene, sometime within a three to four hour window of being taken into custody."
    "Was there any additional evidence you were able to ascertain from the weapon?"
    "Yes," Kinsel said, his small eyes narrowing. "We found a partial print on the trigger of the weapon."
    "A partial print?"
    "Yes, well the trigger isn't wide enough to - well, you know." Kinsel swiped the handkerchief across his brow.
    "Yes, Mr. Kinsel, thank you. I think we can understand that. Is a partial fingerprint enough to make a definitive identification?"
    "If it includes the meat, uh, the middle section of the digit where the print spirals inwards, then yes."
    "And did this partial print contain the 'meat', as you say?"
    "Yes it did."
    "And was a match found of this fingerprint?"
    "Yes it was."
    Alton turned to face the jury, relishing the theatrics of the courtroom drama. "And Mr. Kinsel, would you be so kind as to tell the court to whom that fingerprint belongs?"
    "Yes, it belongs to Mr. Geoffrey Bartell."
    "Thank you, Mr. Kinsel," Alton said as he let his gaze linger on the jury.
    Then he turned and walked slowly to his chair. As he passed in front of the defense table he gave James Scott May a nod. "Your witness," he said.
    May looked up distractedly. "The defense has no questions for the witness."
    Without batting an eye Judge Lemar excused the witness. The peculiarity had worn off by the second day of trial as the defense team had steadily declined to cross-examine every single witness for the prosecution.
    District Attorney Alton McBride remained standing and with a curt bow towards the court proclaimed, "In that case, Your Honor, the prosecution rests."
     

 
     
     
     
    CHAPTER TEN
     
     
    AS THE MONTHS WENT by Geoffrey and Jeff had settled into a brittle working relationship. They focused on the attainment of their combined goals while avoiding the awkward yet inevitable question of what the future held thereafter. The avoidance of that question however was developing