16 SOULS Page 23

  “Okay, but…is this really necessary? Tonight, I mean? Can’t you tell me over the phone?”

  “Yes, it’s very necessary and no, I need to talk to you in person, and tomorrow my story will be front page above the fold and I would feel very bad if you were blindsided.”

  “Front page, huh? And this concerns Captain Mitchell’s prosecution?”

  “Materially.”

  “You understand I will not be giving you any information or interviews on or off the record?”

  “Absolutely. I accept that ground rule. I’m the one doing the talking.”

  “Alright, Mr. Bogosian. Hyatt Regency bar, then. Fifteen minutes.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Present Day – September 13 – Day Six of the trial

  Courtroom 5D, Lindsey-Flanigan Courthouse, Denver

  “Your Honor, I request a sidebar,” Judith announced.

  “Approach!” Judge Gonzales said with a weary wave to both lawyers.

  “I have an emergency addition to the defense’s witness list,” she offered.

  Judith watched Judge Gonzales take the information in stride but instantly look at Grant Richardson, who looked at her incredulously. .

  “Your Honor, I object. We haven’t been notified of any motion for inclusion of a new witness. The state is surprised.”

  “Of course, you’re surprised, Counsellor,” Judith said, smiling as sardonically as she could manage. “So are we. That’s the very nature of a material witness who emerges at the last minute about whom nothing was known previously.”

  As she expected, Richardson’s argument was heated and built around the concept that even if the offered witness confirmed the existence of a car on the runway, that had nothing to do with the primary question of whether or not Captain Mitchell knowingly caused the death of anyone.

  “Judge,” Judith began, “if there was no vehicle on Runway Three Six Right , then the fact that Regal Flight Twelve crashed does not disprove prosecution’s contention that whether the defendant chose Runway Seven or Runway Three Six or any other, it was his refusal to slow down that in essence constituted knowingly causing a death. In other words, there was no runway he could have landed on at two hundred thirty knots without killing someone. But, if he could have landed safely on Three Six Right even at two hundred thirty knots, that means his ultimate decision, the one on which he acted, did NOT constitute knowingly causing a death. Therefore, the presence or absence of the alleged vehicle is material and incredibly important in determining whether a safe landing could have been made if no car was there. Therefore, this witness must be heard.”

  From there, the ruling for inclusion was all but unavoidable for Gonzales, especially since Judith’s hands were clean regarding any prior knowledge of a witness named William Jantzen.

  It had been obvious to Judith that Marty would be concerned to the point of near panic over why she had broken with the usual pattern and, instead of briefing him and the team, had closeted herself with someone Marty had never seen before. There had been no time for Judith to explain, and he had the distinct impression that she had intentionally engineered it that way.

  Now as the unfamiliar name of the new witness was called, a slim, sandy haired young man in his twenties, wearing a slightly bushy mustache, walked unsteadily down the aisle, his features and his color ashen, his shoulders stooped as if he was carrying an unseen burden. He was wearing an open-collar shirt over black slacks, and Marty watched him in deep puzzlement.

  When the witness was sworn and all the usual opening questions of name and employment had been completed, Judith walked toward the witness box.

  “Mr. Jantzen, what exactly is your job at Denver International Airport?”

  “I…ah…I work in the central control building and coordinate the various

  ground equipment.” His somewhat nasal voice betrayed a southern origin.

  “Does that include snow plows during winter storms?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Were you on duty the night of January 21st, when the crash of Regal Air 12 occurred?”

  “I was on that night, but…I finished my shift and was relieved before the accident.”

  “How long before the accident?”

  “Ah…about thirty minutes.”

  “What was the situation from your work perspective that night?”

  “Well, we had had everyone deployed trying to keep the airport open, and we were slowly being overwhelmed, so I was constantly moving the plows and supervisors around. It was decided we would abandon everything except Runway Seven, but we had to leave the last two thousand feet unplowed because we didn’t have time with the inbound emergency to do the whole thing one last time.”

  “So, you removed the plows from Runway Seven?”

  “I was gone by then.”

  “Please explain what you mean by ‘gone,’” Judith asked.

  Jantzen looked nervously around the room, catching the judge’s eye as well, as he sat fidgeting in the witness chair, leaning over the microphone and looking at it repeatedly as if worried it might bite him.

  “Well, my supervisor told me the battle was over and I should clock out and get home if I could. You know, because the snow was just incredible. So I got my parka and scraped the snow drift off my car, and…it was so beautiful out there, and frankly I was so exhausted, I just wanted to sit and veg for a while, you know?”

  “What did you do then?” she asked.

  “Well…I…you gotta understand, the entire airport other than Runway Seven was closed down. They had turned the lights off and the instrument landing system off on Runway Three Six Right, and there was too much ramp traffic around where our parking lot is, so…so I drove over to find a safe place to just park and watch the snow.”

  “Where, exactly, did you go?”

  “I have a little GPS with the runway diagram? Since you couldn’t tell any more where the concrete and grass come together, I just followed the gps out on one of the closed runways, because it was wide enough I wasn’t running the risk of driving off the side, you know?”

  “Mr. Jantzen, did you have an aviation frequency radio in your car, or anything with which to monitor the control tower or talk to them?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Was it required that anyone driving on the runways or taxiways be in two-way radio contact with the tower?”

  Jantzen looked down, nodding, his head continuing to bob as he looked up at her.

  “Yes, ma’am, when the airport runways and such are open. I mean, they were closed, so I didn’t think I needed to be in contact.”

  “Are you authorized to drive airport equipment on the airside areas with a radio?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m trained.”

  “But not in your personal vehicle?”

  “No, because I don’t have a radio, but, see, there’s no way I would ever have driven my car over there if the airport had been operating.”

  “Why did you choose Runway Three Six Right?”

  “Because we had lost control of the snow on that runway later in the evening, and I knew the drifts wouldn’t be too high to drive in.”

  Judith paced back for a moment, taking in Marty’s wide-eyed expression of disbelief as he put together the meaning of the words Jantzen had just spoken. Grant Richardson’s face was also broadcasting massive dynamic tension as he tried to find something to object to.

  “Was it exciting to you, being in the middle of the runway?”

  “A little.”

  Richardson was already standing. “Objection. Relevance.”

  “Sustained.”

  “Mr. Jantzen, once you drove onto the surface of Runway Three Six Right, what did you do?”

  “I parked. I turned around to the so
uth facing the way I had just come in, ‘cause I figured if I saw my tracks disappear it would be time to go.”

  “And then what did you do?”

  “I turned up the heat, turned on a CD I had…Jimmy Buffet, you know…to counter the winter. And then I lit a joint. I mean, it is Colorado. It’s not illegal. And I was just trying to unwind from a really intense day.”

  “So, you were relaxing and smoking and listening to music. What kind of car were you in?”

  “My Chevy Tahoe.”

  “What color is it?”

  “Kind of a yellow.”

  “Does it have a roof rack?”

  “Ah, no ma’am.”

  “Was the engine running?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “And were the headlights on?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Had you driven out there with the headlights on?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well…the snow was still coming down…and I was following the GPS…”

  “Could you see the terminal from where you were on Runway Three Six Right?”

  “Yes…barely.”

  “So, if you had used your headlights, someone might have seen you?”

  Finally, Richardson was on his feet. “Objection! Calls for a conclusion.”

  Judge Gonzales broke his gaze from the witness and moved it to the DA, a scowl on his face at having been interrupted.

  “Overruled.”

  “But, Your Honor, there’s no foundation for this testimony. We don’t have a clue where this is going!”

  “Well, if you’ll stop objecting, maybe we could find out. In fact, there is a foundation. Sit!” The judge looked back at the witness. “You may continue, Mr. Jantzen.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’ll rephrase the question,” Judith said, keeping her expression devoid of the smile she desperately wanted to display. “Tell me all the reasons you kept the headlights off when driving onto Runway Three Six Right?”

  “Well…as I said…I was really driving by the GPS and didn’t need to see ahead, but I guess I also didn’t want anyone worried about why I was out there.”

  “So, you did not want anyone seeing that you were on the runway?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Did you…at any point in time once you had parked and turned on your music, did you turn on your headlights?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “When and why?”

  Jantzen took a deep breath and looked down, still doing his uncomfortable dance around the microphone before looking up.

  “Lights suddenly came on. Landing lights. In my face! I mean, the runway was closed, and suddenly I’ve got what looked like a big airplane coming right at me!”

  “What did you do?”

  “I panicked! I was fumbling for the headlight switch, y’know, and I was trying to put the car in gear at the same time and figure out where to run to and finally I got the headlights on but I’d forgotten the parking brake and the car wouldn’t move and suddenly this thing goes right over my head and rocks the car, and when he’s passed me, I finally figured out the damned parking brake was still on, and I got it off and got the hell out of there.”

  Marty had come forward in his chair at the defense table, his heart pounding. This was his corroboration! Those headlights had not been a figment of his imagination, or some sort of manufactured or trauma-induced memory. Even though Ryan had not seen or remembered headlights for the brief time they were in view, they had really been there.

  “You left the runway then?” Judith was asking.

  “Yes,” Jantzen said. “…and the airport, as quietly as I could. I mean, I was shaking scared, and then all the emergency equipment starts rolling past me with sirens and lights everywhere and I had no idea…”

  The young man looked up, tears now streaming down his face. “I…I had no idea there had been a crash, and that same plane that was going to land on Runway Seven had crashed right over me!”

  “Did you know that any part of that aircraft had touched your vehicle as it flew over?”

  He was all but hyperventilating now and Judith looked at the judge before asking if he needed a moment to compose himself, but Jantzen forced himself to sit up and continue.

  “The whole car shook when he passed over but I didn’t think it had touched me,” he continued, “…but it was a lot later, maybe weeks, when I was up on a ladder in my garage and I looked at the top of my car and saw a little antenna was missing. I never knew what that thing did but it was kinda cool, so I remembered it. I didn’t think about it being hit by the plane, because, y’know, I didn’t feel any impact. But then later I began to wonder.”

  “Did your employer know you had been on the runway that night?”

  “No, ma’am. Well, not until this week.”

  “Did you know for a fact your antenna had been removed by the tire of the passing jet?”

  “No, ma’am. Not for sure. Not until yesterday, or, I mean, the evening before.”

  “Had you read in newspapers or online or heard via radio or television or from any other source that the captain of Regal Flight 12 claimed that headlights had distracted him during his emergency landing?”

  Jantzen’s face betrayed something beyond utter confusion – it was the primal look of someone being chased by a grizzly realizing he’s backed up to the edge of a cliff with nowhere to go.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “And you didn’t come forward or notify anyone that you might have been the source of those headlights?”

  In all the corporate litigation Judith Winston had handled, never once had a witness broken into body shaking sobs on the stand, but William Jantzen was instantly beyond the ability to force words out of his mouth, and he sat there, quaking and sobbing as the judge wondered what to do and the jury took it all in.

  “I have no further questions,” Judith said at last, as the bailiff gently moved the microphone away from Jantzen’s face, quieting the ungodly sounds that had filled the courtroom.

  Judge Gonzales ordered a ten minute recess, which was barely enough time for Jantzen to get himself under control and face a cross-examination

  Despite the best efforts of the DA to shake his story, William Jantzen remained consistent, and Richardson finally decided the witness had done enough damage.

  “I have no further questions, Your Honor.”

  “Mr. Jantzen, you are excused.”

  He looked at the judge in confusion.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “You may leave the stand and leave the courtroom, Mr. Jantzen.”

  It had been, Judith explained to Marty at the next recess, the visit of Scott Bogosian, the evidence he’d collected, and the presence of the airport police chief in Jantzen’s living room that had convinced him that his car had been impacted however slightly by Regal 12. But finding out that without question the flare of his headlights being turned on had actually been a major factor in the crash caused the man to all but collapse. He had offered any help he could, including agreeing to Scott Bogosian’s shoot-from-the-hip question of whether he’d be willing to tell the truth in open court to save a man’s professional life. Jantzen’s immediate “Yes!” had caught Scott by surprise, as had the difficulty of getting Judith Winston to listen to him.

  Scott had agreed to take the stand as well to verify the yellow paint in the groove in the 757’s tire, and Grant Richardson had apparently given up fighting the point, permitting the presentation to go forward without a real objection. It was that reaction that further worried Judith. Was he just giving up, or more likely, was he preparing to convince the jury that none of that mattered?

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Present Day –
September 14 – Day Seven of the trial

  Courtroom 5D, Lindsey-Flanigan Courthouse, Denver

  Aside from the very real possibility that his exclusive story about William Jantzen and the crash of Regal 12 might result in the offer of a full-time position with the Post, Scott Bogosian realized he had developed a proprietary attachment to the trial of Captain Mitchell. Try as he might to avoid taking sides, he was sliding into Mitchell’s camp and developing a serious dislike for the district attorney. Treating an inadvertent airline tragedy as a criminal act was, to him at least, patently ridiculous.

  Scott sat now in the gallery of the courtroom, watching preparations for what might be one of the last days of the trial as Grant Richardson got to his feet to re-call Captain Mitchell to the stand.

  It had been a shock, Scott recalled, to see the airline captain in full uniform on the first day of the proceedings. He had thought it pretentious at first, but now the idea that Marty Mitchell the man could be separated from Captain Mitchell, the pilot in command of Regal 12, made little sense. In effect, they were trying the captain of a ship, not an individual, and that was the pivot point for the furious response of most airline people.

  Marty adjusted himself in the witness chair again, feeling far more settled than he expected as the enemy walked toward him.

  “Captain Mitchell, I just have a few followup questions,” Richardson began, an unctuous smile on his face.

  Rather like an open-mouthed rattlesnake getting ready to strike, Marty thought. The image was amusing and also somewhat calming.

  “Why, Mr. Mitchell, did you abort the landing on Runway 7?”

  Judith was on her feet.

  “Objection. Asked and answered.”

  “Sustained,” the judge replied.

  Richardson was unfazed.

  “Very well, let me ask it this way. Is it true, Mr. Mitchell, that a primary reason you elected to abort the landing on Runway Seven was because of your concern over the combination of a two hundred and thirty knot landing speed against the useable length of that runway and with consideration of the severe drop-off at the eastern end?”