Page 85 of Dick

Seton.

Thank God.

Seton reached into his pocket, removed a small gold case, and tossed three business cards on the table. It was time for shit to get real, and I was ready.

He brushed the lapels of his suit coat. “Gentlemen, Seton Allen Hallsworth, Esquire. The questioning will now be directed to me, and my client will only respond to questions I advise her to be in her best legal interest.”

“You phony turd,” Tribideaux-Whitmire said. “One of you two fuck-nuggets switched out the diamond on me.”

“An accusation such as that will not be taken lightly, Sir. Your diamond didn’t check out as being authentic. That, Sir, cannot be refuted. For the safety of my client, and in anticipation of being swindled, I recorded the entire conversation,” Seton said.

He reached into his jacket, removed a small device, and pressed his thumb against it.

“As long as this diamond checks out.”

“I’m sure you’ll find it to your satisfaction.”

“The tester appears to be malfunctioning. I can’t get an accurate reading. It’s telling me the stone is a fake. Let’s proceed under the belief that everything checks out.”

“How sad.”

“Would you like to see it?”

“Is a pig’s ass made of pork?”

He pressed his thumb against it again, stopping it. He grinned and placed the recorder in his inner jacket pocket.

Tribideaux-Whitmire looked angry. “The diamond was authentic.”

“Federal Rule of Evidence Rule 901,” Seton said in a matter-of-fact tone. “Otherwise known as the Authentication of Identification Rule, requires that the chain of custody for evidence be maintained. I’ll ask, Good Sir, if you could provide the chronological support to me for review.”

I had no idea what he was saying, but I really liked what everyone’s faces did.

Hashtag sad face.

A hand hit the table. “That fucking diamond was authentic.”

I looked up. Agent Tribideaux-Whitmire looked as though he swallowed a spoonful of something bitter.

“According to my tester, Sir, it was not. My tester wasn’t checked prior to our meeting, and could certainly be out of calibration, but there is no law in place to require me to test it or to calibrate it. There is, however such law in place to require you, Sir, to prove you had the diamond tested prior to the meeting. If you are unable to prove its authenticity was verified prior to the meeting, as a matter of law you may not claim its inauthenticity following the meeting.”

Silence.

“Based on your allegations, I would have assumed the diamond was tested prior to the meeting,” Seton said. “However, your three somber faces tell me otherwise.”

Tribideaux-Whitmire cleared his throat. “I think your tester works just fine, and you’re full of shit, Counselor.”

Seton coughed a light laugh. “My tester is not the subject of this discussion; your chain of evidence is. For the sake of entertainment, have you the stone?”

Tribideaux-Whitmire looked sick. He reached into his jacket pocket. The cloth and stone were produced.

Seton reached into his pocket, removed the tester, and poked the diamond with a small prod. A red light illuminated. He turned the tester toward each of the officers. They acted uninterested.

Porn ‘stache scratched his nuts.

“I will ask one last time.” Seton sighed and placed the tester in his pocket. “Did you check your stone for authenticity immediately prior to the meeting, and if your response is yes, I need to see the document supporting said test as well as the credentials of the person who performed the test.

“Fuck you, Counselor,” Tribideaux-Whitmire said.

“As I suspected.” Seton reached for my hand. “We’ll be leaving now.”

“This isn’t over,” Porn ‘stache warned.

“As a matter of law,” Seton said. “It is over. Any questions for this client will henceforth be directed to me. Without the authentication for the diamond, the only crime committed is detaining my client. Any attempts to question her will be considered harassment, and will be met with a civil action lawsuit against the state and the federal government.”

I stood up, reached for my coffee, and drank it in one gulp. “Gentlemen.”

Seton motioned toward the door. “After you.”

And, just like that, all my worries washed away.