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redoubled his efforts.
    â€œBut he is impugning your integrity, Your Honor,” Hartz countered. “Blackstone is implying, ridiculously, that the notepad will somehow prove his client’s innocence and that you are blocking that evidence from the defense. I can’t think of a more direct assault on this Court’s integrity.”
    The judge was silent on the bench, staring off into space. Blackstone knew he might lose this paragraph 77 demand as he had all the others. He was not going to let that happen.
    â€œI have reason to believe,” Blackstone blurted out, “that the underlying note pages on Langley’s notepad may contain microscopic tracings of what he wrote. That we may be able to reconstruct exactly what Langley was writing just moments before he was murdered.”
    â€œAnd why do you believe that?” the judge asked.
    â€œBecause of the pen he was using,” Blackstone said with a sigh, reluctant that he was being forced to divulge his conclusions to the prosecution. “A pen that was capable of making a deep imprint several pages down in the notepad.”
    Blackstone was able to see out of the corner of his eye that Henry Hartz was standing motionless at the podium next to him, gripping the head of his cane tightly, and staring straight down onto the wooden shelf of the podium, where a few of his papers were lying.
    More silence.
    â€œI’ll grant your requests dealing with the notepad,” the judge ruled. “The government will be required to produce copies of any of its reports dealing with the notepad and must provide an opportunity for your defense expert to scientifically examine it.”
    â€œThere is a mountain of physical evidence in this case,” Hartz shot back. “It may take a while for us to locate the notepad in the FBI inventory.”
    â€œThen I would ask the Court,” Blackstone replied, “to instruct Mr. Hartz that he had better start looking. I need this information immediately.”
    â€œMr. Hartz,” the judge said in a conciliatory tone. “Please try to be as expeditious as you can.”
    Then he gaveled the hearing to a close.
    Blackstone tried to catch Hartz’s attention to discuss the timing of when his expert could examine the notepad, but Hartz ignored him.
    â€œHenry,” Blackstone called out to the prosecutor as he walked with his cane to the end of the courtroom to exit. “Hey, Henry.”
    But AUSA Henry Hartz never turned around. He just kept walking.
    J.D. Blackstone didn’t miss that. And he was already trying to figure out exactly what that meant.

CHAPTER 13

    B lackstone retained Dr. Ken Coglin, a professor of materials engineering from the University of Maryland, as his expert examiner on the Langley notepad. Coglin had extensive experience as a forensic examiner of document imprint evidence.
    AUSA Hartz immediately threw up roadblocks to the examination, but Blackstone wouldn’t be diverted. Finally, he called an emergency conference call with Judge Templeton and AUSA Hartz in order to press hard for an immediate inspection of the notepad.
    â€œI’ve given you a few days already,” Judge Templeton said to the federal prosecutor. “Let’s not drag this out. I’m sure you can produce the notepad, Henry. Get it done.”
    Twenty-four hours later Dr. Coglin and J.D. Blackstone were in a spare room in the complex of the U.S. Attorney’s Office. The notepad was lying in front of them, sealed in a plastic evidence bag. FBI Special Agent Ralph Johnson, a veteran African-American FBI agent on the case, was in the room, and after snapping on latex gloves, he carefully unsealed the bag and then stepped a few feet away to observe. By agreement with Hartz, Blackstone had conceded that the government could have an agent present in the room during the document examination.
    Coglin set up his high-powered microscope and focused only on the top sheet of the