"I'm not familiar."

"What is the atomic number of barium?"

"I don't recall."

"Of antimony?"

"I don't recall," said Riddell, his face reddening.

"What method of a.n.a.lysis did you utilize in examining the swabs from Mr. Hansford's hands?" Cook asked.

"Atomic absorption," Riddell replied.

"And you got negative results?"

"Yes, sir."

"Are you aware," Cook asked, "that in the Atlanta area the atomic-absorption test yields negative results sixty percent of the time when it is done on the hands of persons known to have committed suicide with a gun?" known to have committed suicide with a gun?"

"I would ask to see your figures, sir," Riddell answered.

"You would like to see some figures on it?" said Cook. "Do you know Dr. Joseph Burton?"

"Yes, sir," said Riddell. "He's the medical examiner in Atlanta, I believe."

Bobby Lee Cook called Dr. Joseph Burton as the first defense witness. As a medical examiner in Miami and Atlanta, Burton had performed some seven thousand autopsies. At the time of Jim Williams's trial, he was working on the well-publicized Atlanta child-murder case of Wayne Williams. Dr. Burton had autopsied nine of those murders. Cook was counting on him now to challenge the state's interpretation of much of the evidence in the case against Jim Williams.

"Dr. Burton," Cook began, "what, in your opinion, is the significance of a negative result for gunshot residue on an atomic-absorption test?"

"A negative result has relatively little significance to me," said Dr. Burton. "A gun may give you a positive result on one firing and a negative result on another. It's an unreliable test. Virtually everyone in my profession of forensic pathology would like to see this test discontinued." Dr. Burton went on to say that it was he who conducted the study of gunshot-residue tests on suicides and found that fewer than 50 percent tested positive.

"Then in your opinion," said Cook, "does a negative result indicate that the deceased did not fire a weapon?"

"No, sir, it does not."

Dr. Burton said he had visited Mercer House several times to reenact the shooting, and it was his belief that all the shots had been fired from behind the desk. "It would be physically impossible to walk around and shoot either the head shot or the back shot and have them go through the body and end up in the floor the way they did." Burton interpreted the evidence just as the coroner, Dr. Metts, had suggested: The first bullet struck Hansford in the chest and spun him counterclockwise, accounting for the second and third bullets entering from the rear. Burton called attention to small particles of skull and hair that had been found in the southwest corner of the room, several feet from Danny's head. "They were knocked out by the bullet pa.s.sing through the body," he said, "and they follow the same line the bullet follows." So, Williams did not deliver a coup de grace, said Burton. He fired three shots in rapid succession: "Bam, bam, bam-fast as the body fell to the floor. It accounts for the pieces of bone, the hair, the holes in the floor, the blood spatters, and the angles through the body."

Dr. Burton offered an explanation for the presence of smeared blood on Hansford's hand: After the first shot hit him, Hansford might have dropped his gun and clutched his chest. "Then as the body hit the floor the hand might simply have sprung out to the side. Then the blood would have been smeared as the hand came out from under the body."

The chair on the pants leg? "The chair doesn't really concern me in the case," said Dr. Burton. "It doesn't indicate a contrived scene. In fact, it would go against someone trying to set this scene up, because it seems to be somewhat out of place sitting on his leg."

By the time Dr. Burton was finished testifying, the defense had responded to most of the prosecution's arguments. In addition, over Lawton's objections, the defense had called several witnesses who testified that Danny Hansford was an extremely violent young man. A psychiatrist at Georgia Regional Hospital told of treating Hansford after he had broken furniture in his mother's house and "threatened to kill someone." The doctor said Hansford had to be subdued and secluded because he was "dangerous to the hospital staff and to himself." A nurse at the hospital on that occasion said that when she admitted Hansford she cla.s.sified him as "homicidal" on the admission form. A week after his death, in fact, Hansford had been due to appear in court on a charge related to a fist fight with a neighbor. Williams had paid the $600 bond to get him out of jail that time too.

The prevailing opinion in the corridors of the courthouse was that Bobby Lee Cook had raised just enough doubt about the state's case to enable jurors to vote "not guilty" in good conscience. The groundwork had been laid for an acquittal. Now it was up to Jim Williams to take the stand and win the sympathy of the jury. It was a jury composed of six men and six women. They were plain, middle-cla.s.s people-a secretary, a teacher, housewives, a nurse, a plumber. One of the women was black; the rest of the jury was white.

Williams took the stand dressed in a pale gray suit. He leaned forward respectfully as Bobby Lee Cook guided him gently through a narrative of his modest childhood in Gordon, Georgia. Williams told about his arrival in Savannah at the age of twenty-one, his restoration of houses, his success in business, and his rise in Savannah society. He spoke with a confident, somewhat lofty tone. He explained that twice a year he attended the international Faberge sales in Geneva. "You've heard of Faberge perfume?" said Williams. "We're not talking about that. Karl Faberge was the court jeweler to the czar of Russia and to most of the other European courts. He made some of the finest works of art that anyone has ever created. I collect Faberge in a small way."

Williams recalled how he had met Danny Hansford. "I was getting out of my car in front of the house and this fellow rode up on a bicycle. He said somebody told him I hired people to work in my workshop who had no experience. I said, 'Well, that is true, but I only hire people who are capable of learning things.' Danny started off by stripping the finishes off furniture. He worked on and off for two years. Part time. He would leave town and then come back."

In precise and chilling detail, Williams described Danny's rampage through the house on April 3, a month before he died. Danny stood in the bedroom, having fired a shot into the floor, glaring at Williams, gun in hand. "How d.a.m.n mad do I have to make you before you'll kill me?" he said. Then he went outside and fired into the square. When Williams called the police, Danny ran upstairs and pretended to be asleep in bed.

It was shortly after that incident that Williams asked Hansford to go with him on his buying trip to Europe. Williams explained that his health had begun to suffer and that he had blacked out several times from hypoglycemia. He needed someone to accompany him. "I didn't want to pa.s.s out somewhere en route without somebody with me for two reasons, healthwise and moneywise." Williams would be carrying a large quant.i.ty of cash, he said, "because you get a far better rate of exchange on your money if you take it in cash." He had asked Danny to go along "because I thought I could control him."

But in mid-April, Hansford told Williams he was planning to take marijuana on the trip, and Williams said in that case he could not go. "Danny and I agreed we'd ask Joe Goodman to go instead," said Williams. "We were both happy with that arrangement. Danny could smoke his dope in Savannah, and I'd have somebody to go on my trip with me."

A week later, on the night of the shooting, Danny had exploded in a fury. As Williams told it, Danny had carried on about how his mother put him in detention centers and how she had hated him because he looked like his father, whom she had divorced. He raged on about his friend George Hill wanting his car and about his girlfriend Bonnie, who wouldn't marry him be cause he didn't have a steady job. Then he turned on Williams. "And you you took away my trip to Europe!" Hansford stomped the Atari game. Williams stood up and walked out of the room. Hansford grabbed him by the throat and threw him up against the door. Williams pulled away and went into his study to call the police. Danny came into the study after him. "Who are you calling?" he demanded. took away my trip to Europe!" Hansford stomped the Atari game. Williams stood up and walked out of the room. Hansford grabbed him by the throat and threw him up against the door. Williams pulled away and went into his study to call the police. Danny came into the study after him. "Who are you calling?" he demanded.

"I had to think real quick," said Williams. "I said, 'I'm calling Joe Goodman to tell him the European trip is off.'" Williams dialed Joe Goodman, and both he and Danny spoke to Goodman on the phone. That was at 2:05 A.M. A.M. The call had lasted a few minutes. The call had lasted a few minutes.

Williams continued his story as the packed courtroom listened in silence. "Danny sat down in the chair opposite me and leaned back. He picked up a silver tankard and held it in his hand and just looked at it. Then he said, 'You know, this silver tankard has about made up its mind to go through that painting over there.' It was an English painting, about eight and a half feet by ten feet, of the Drake family in the eighteenth century. Danny had that crazed look on his face.

"I stood up and put my finger straight out, and I said, 'Danny Hansford, you're not going to tear my house up anymore! Now, you get out!' That's when Danny got up and went out into the hall, and there were crashing sounds. He came back with a gun in his hand and said, 'I'm leaving tomorrow, but you're leaving tonight.'

"The minute I saw that Luger," said Williams, "I reached into the drawer. As I was coming up from my seat, a bullet was fired at me. I felt the breeze go by my right arm."

Some time between 2:20 and 2:25 A.M., Williams called Joe Goodman again, this time to tell him he had shot Danny.

Spencer Lawton stepped up for the cross-examination. He began by asking Williams to describe the guns he kept in Mercer House: the gun in the downstairs hall, the gun in the rear parlor, the gun in the study, the gun in the living room. Williams sat back in his chair with his chin slightly raised. He stared at Lawton with a look of icy disdain and answered his questions in clipped syllables. Lawton led Williams once more through the events on the night of the shooting, to the point when Williams said he felt the breeze of the first bullet go by his right arm.

"Do you recall," Lawton asked, "having told Albert Scardino of the Georgia Gazette Georgia Gazette in the interview four days after the incident that you felt the first bullet go by your in the interview four days after the incident that you felt the first bullet go by your left left arm?" arm?"

"Mr. Lawton," said Williams, "under those conditions, I was not taking notes."

"Could it be," said Lawton, "that you have some doubt as to which side of you the bullet went on because you were standing on the other side of the desk when you fired the bullet into the paper?"

"I never fired any bullet into any paper on any desk. What are you talking about?"

"And that therefore, thinking about yourself from this position, you would get the arms mixed up?"

Williams looked down from the stand with an expression of loathing. He was obdurate and imperious, not even slightly defensive. For all the world, he could have been the czar in his Faberge cuff links, the emperor Maximilian sitting at his gold-encrusted desk. Williams a.s.sumed the haughty boredom of all the monarchs and aristocrats whose portraits and baubles he now owned.

Lawton moved on to another topic. "You've testified at considerable length concerning your relationship with Danny Hansford. Other than the fact that, as you tell it, he attacked you, did you have any reason to want to see him dead?"

"None whatsoever."

"You had no particular resentment or dislike for him, no anger at him?"

"If I had, he wouldn't have been around me. I was trying to straighten him out. I was trying to help him, and he made progress."

"I have to say," said Lawton, "that from what you've said of it, you do seem exquisitely solicitous of his needs. You had some unusual unusual feelings about him, didn't you, because-" feelings about him, didn't you, because-"

"What unusual unusual feelings?" Williams cut in. feelings?" Williams cut in.

"I get the impression you considered it somewhat your personal charge to save him from himself."

"It's just that I was trying to help him make something of his life. Danny said to me on more than one occasion, 'You're the only person that's ever really tried to help me. You're the only person that hasn't used me.'"

"Well, now," said Lawton, "again I don't want to seem picky, but I do want to understand the nature of the relationship and-"

"Fine," said Williams.

"What exactly did he do for you? He drove?"

"Yes."

"I think you testified that he was employed by you in two other capacities, one as a part-time worker in your shop and the other to look after you because of your health condition. Is that right?"

"Yes. He would come by and check on me. Sometimes he would spend the night in the house, sometimes he and his girlfriend would both spend the night in the house."

"Did you ever pay him for any other work or service that he did other than what we've just described?"

"He used to move furniture for me in my pickup truck."

"But in no other capacity and for no other work or anything did you pay him?"

"How do you mean?" Williams asked coldly. "What other work would there be?"

"I'm just asking you. I just want to be sure that I've got it right."

At this point, it was Spencer Lawton who was playing his witness like a ba.s.s. The more stubbornly evasive Williams became, the more Lawton seemed to encourage him. His intention was not to hook Williams at all but to tease him along and draw out the play. One more time, he asked Williams if he had anything to add about himself and Danny.

"Does the situation we've just been outlining fully fully describe your relationship with Danny?" describe your relationship with Danny?"

"Uh-huh."

"Indicating 'yes'?"

"Yes."

Williams appeared to be holding back a smile. He felt he was winning this test of wills. He had not broken under Lawton's insistent probing. He had made it through to the end of his testimony with his good name still intact. From here on, it would be all in his favor. He was to be followed on the stand by seven unimpeachable character witnesses, seven of Savannah's most upstanding citizens. They were waiting in the corridor, out of hearing of the proceedings. There was Alice Dowling, the widow of the late Amba.s.sador Dowling; the silver-haired George Patterson, a retired bank president; Hal h.o.e.rner, another retired banker; Carol Fulton, the pretty blond wife of Dr. Tod Fulton; Lucille Wright, the cateress. They and others were waiting to tell the jury about Jim Williams's peaceable nature and his good character. Williams stepped down from the stand to await the endors.e.m.e.nt of his friends and the conclusion of the trial.

But those endors.e.m.e.nts would have to wait. Spencer Lawton announced that he had two witnesses to call in reb.u.t.tal to Williams's testimony. "If it please the court," he said. "I'll call as the state's next witness: George Hill."

George Hill was twenty-two years old. He had curly dark hair and a hefty build. He took the stand and identified himself as a deckhand on a tugboat in Thunderbolt. He had been Danny Hansford's best friend. He also knew Jim Williams. Lawton asked him if he could identify Williams anywhere in the courtroom. Hill pointed to him at the defense table.

"Do you know whether or not Danny Hansford had any sort of relationship at all with Jim Williams?" Lawton asked.

"Yes, I do," said Hill.

"What, if anything, do you know about that relationship?"

"Well, Mr. Williams was giving Danny money when he needed it. He bought him a nice car and give him fine clothes, in exchange for going to bed with him."

"In exchange for who to-I'm sorry?"

"For Danny to sleep with him."

"How do you know that?"

"Me and Danny talked about it a few times. Danny told me he liked the money and everything. He said it was fine with him if Mr. Williams wanted to pay him to suck his d.i.c.k."

George Hill's words were framed in silence. Lawton paused so as not to crowd them or diminish their effect. Members of the jury stole glances at one another. Blanche Williams looked down at her lap. The courtroom flack sitting in front of me laughed his silent laugh.

Bobby Lee Cook sat in stony silence. Earlier in the day, in a session in the judge's chambers, he had lodged formal objections to Lawton's stated intention of bringing George Hill to the stand to say what he had just said. Cook had told the judge that any testimony based on statements made to Hill by Danny Hansford would const.i.tute inadmissible hearsay. He urged Judge Oliver to be wary. If George Hill were allowed to cross the line, it would be impossible to tell the jury to ignore what it had heard. "You can't unring the bell," he said. "You can't throw a skunk in the jury box and then tell them they didn't smell it." But Lawton argued that George Hill's testimony would introduce a motive for the killing, and Judge Oliver ruled that he could testify.

"Did Danny ever tell you of any disagreements that he had with Mr. Williams?" Lawton continued.

"Well, a few times when I was over there," said Hill, "they had a few small ones, whenever Mr. Williams wouldn't give Danny the money he wanted. One time-I wasn't there when the argument took place-Danny started dating a girl named Bonnie Waters, and Mr. Williams wasn't too happy about it. He bought Danny a four-hundred-dollar gold necklace, with the agreement Danny would quit seeing this girl. Danny gave the necklace to Bonnie and then took her over to the house with it on. Williams got pretty mad and told him he'd have to pack his stuff and leave. Danny was real worried that he'd just lost his meal ticket."

"When was this?"

"About two nights before he died."

For his cross-examination, Bobby Lee Cook took a kindly-uncle tone. He asked Hill to tell the jury about his fondness for guns-Hill had two pistols and four rifles-and about the time he had a.s.saulted another boy and the boy's father and knocked their door down. Cook asked Hill to tell how he and a friend had once been arrested for shooting out fifteen streetlights.

Cook also wanted to know why George Hill had not told the authorities about the necklace and Danny Hansford and Jim Williams for more than six months, until just before the trial. "When you finally told someone," Cook asked, "who did you talk to?"

"Well," said Hill, "Danny's mother got in touch with me and asked me to please talk to her attorney or one of the district attorneys."

"Oh, Danny's mother got in touch with you?" Cook a.s.sumed a look of surprise.

"Yes, sir."

"She got in touch with you, because she told you she had a lawsuit against Jim Williams, didn't she! And she wanted to collect ten million dollars and would give you part of it, didn't she!" didn't she!"

"That's a lie," said Hill, "and I don't think it's very polite of you saying things like that."

It was Bobby Lee Cook's turn to pause and let the silence in the courtroom emphasize the point he had just made.

Spencer Lawton's second reb.u.t.tal witness was another young friend of Danny Hansford's, Greg Kerr. Kerr was twenty-one and blond and worked in the pressroom of the Savannah Evening Press. Savannah Evening Press. He wore wire-rimmed gla.s.ses and was visibly nervous. Knowing that he would probably be confronted with it anyway, he blurted out every bad thing about himself he could think of. He had been arrested for possession of drugs and obstruction of justice; he had been involved in "the h.o.m.os.e.xual scene" ever since he was seduced by a high school teacher. But his last h.o.m.os.e.xual encounter had been three weeks ago, he said, and he was out of it for good now. He wore wire-rimmed gla.s.ses and was visibly nervous. Knowing that he would probably be confronted with it anyway, he blurted out every bad thing about himself he could think of. He had been arrested for possession of drugs and obstruction of justice; he had been involved in "the h.o.m.os.e.xual scene" ever since he was seduced by a high school teacher. But his last h.o.m.os.e.xual encounter had been three weeks ago, he said, and he was out of it for good now.

"Do you, of your own knowledge," Lawton asked, "know anything of any relationship that Danny Hansford may have had with Jim Williams?"

"Yes, I do," said Kerr.

"How do you know?" asked Lawton.

"I went to their home to play backgammon, and Danny stepped out of the room or something to go to the rest room. I said, 'He's a nice-looking young man,' and Mr. Williams said, 'Yes. He's very good in bed. And also, he's well endowed.'"

"Did Danny use drugs?" Lawton asked.

"Yes, he did," said Kerr. "He had marijuana at the house when I was over there one time."

"Did he ever say anything to you about where he got it?"

"Yes, he did. He said, 'Jim buys all my drugs.'"

Bobby Lee Cook leaped to his feet. "Your Honor, this is the rankest and purest sort of hearsay!" Judge Oliver overruled the objection.