Copyright 1995(c)

                              BLOOD EVIDENCE
                              By Del Freeman

     "Your Honor, we want access to the blood evidence," said the
Defense.
     That was long before they were accused of removing a blood
spot from the murder scene.
     For a long time, they argued about getting ten percent of this
evidence and then they insisted their own expert be present during
the prosecution's testing to make sure 10 percent was left. Then
they suddenly quit protesting, and elected not to have anyone at
all present at the testing, expert or otherwise. The public
wondered if the strategy was that it was inadvisable to attend, and
later base objections on that first-hand observance. It was far
more beneficial to challenge with innuendo and suggestion later.
     Because they were thought to have removed the one blood drop,
the choice was easy. They elected not to attend, so that the
Prosecution could not prove its case using the defense's own paid
expert if it came to light that the third blood typing present at
the murder scene belonged to their client. They investigated
theories of disproving the results of blood-typing tests and looked
at alibis, witnesses, and scenarios which had their client in
another city at the time.
     They would not have known, of course, if the blood drop had
not been removed. Naturally, this was not a legal removal, and it
was one they would deny emphatically, while prepared to accept the
monetary sanctions the Judge, disbelieving their protests, was sure
to impose. Defense work was often more careful planning than
anything. It was thinking ahead, and the best players were often
bridge or chess enthusiasts, as well.
     The guilt or innocence of one's client had no bearing on a
waltz as intricate as any ever put to music. Part of establishing
that rhythm was knowing when and how to act. Acting, as everyone
knew, was the key to winning.
     So what? So a blood spot was removed. Big deal! Look at all
the ones we still have, said the prosecution. 
     Ito might believe, but no one would ever be able to prove,
that the defense had removed a blood spot.
     It was, however, the point on which the admissibility of the
blood evidence would be turn. The secret to mounting a successful
defense was in knowing what those issues would be.
     And certainly, one would be a question of the evidence having
been tampered with, by either side.
     He congratulated himself on the forethinking to remove the
blood spot shortly after the crimes. Leaving just a trace, clearly
showing where more had been wiped away, had been a master stroke.
That, combined with his own tearful testimony and the sob story
that he'd found a 12-step solution to his illness while in prison,
would get him off.
     He'd known it when he did it. He hadn't told the lawyers, of
course. They needed to sincerely protest their innocence. They
didn't need to know how well he'd planned this event, including the
blood spots he left behind.
     Later, when the defense presented its case, lawyers would
reveal that they had, indeed, confiscated the blood spot. The Judge
would be livid, but would be challenged to accept the results of
the State's tests but not that of the Defense. His Honor could hold
the lawyers up by the cojones in punishment, but he couldn't un-
ring the bell. And the lawyers had been sufficiently well-paid, or
had foregone the fee in expectation of an increased practice as a
result of the visibility of the televised proceedings.
     Either way, this thing would become a circus and would, he
expected, have to be declared a mis-trial. He would be free,
pleading his innocence, maybe. At least he would have another shot
at the surprise element the prosecution had delivered for the next
go-round.
     Removing that blood drop had been pure genius.
     He'd known it would save him from conviction for the crime,
before he ever committed it. The man's presence had been a
surprise, but a not an altogether unpleasant diversionary
challenge, though pitifully easy to overcome. Cocaine had loosened
the grip of pain from injured and strained muscles and ligaments
and anger had been a sufficient stimulation. He had dreamed it a
thousand times.
     And it went off like a dream.
     The first thing he intended to do when he was free was dump
the latest girlfriend, who wasn't even blonde. 
     Then he planned to write another book.
                                    END