“Is this consistent with a nine-millimeter bullet?”

“It is.”

“Thank you, Dr. Washburn. I’m finished with this witness, Your Honor.”

Mickey put his hands flat on the defense table and came to his feet.

“Dr. Washburn, did Sara Cabot die instantly?”

“I’d say so. Within a heartbeat or two. Both of those gunshot wounds perforated the heart.”

“Uh-huh. And, Doctor, had the deceased recently fired a gun?”

“Yes. I saw some darkening at the base of her index finger that would be consistent with cylinder flare.”

“How do you know that that’s gunshot residue?”

“The way you know your mother’s your mother,” Claire said, her eyes twinkling. “Because that’s what she looks like.” She paused for the laughter to subside, then she continued. “Besides which, I photographed that smudging, documented it, and did a gunshot wound residue test, which was submitted to the laboratory and came back positive.”

“Could the deceased have shot Lieutenant Boxer after she herself was shot?”

“I don’t see how a dead girl could shoot anyone, Mr. Sherman.”

Mickey nodded. “Did you also note the trajectory of those gunshot wounds, Dr. Washburn?”

“I did. They were fired upward at angles of forty-seven and forty-nine degrees.”

“So to be absolutely clear, Doctor, Sara Cabot shot Lieutenant Boxer first—and the lieutenant returned fire upward from where she lay on the ground.”

“In my opinion, yes, that’s how it happened.”

“Would you call that ‘excessive force’ or ‘wrongful death’ or ‘police misconduct’?”

The judge sustained Broyles’s outraged objection. Mickey thanked Claire and dismissed her. He was smiling as he came toward me. My muscles relaxed, and I even returned Mickey’s smile. But the hearing was just beginning.