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That would be only the first delay. Whenever an indictment is issued--and no one doubts one will be--Jones will file for a change of venue, contending that his client cannot get a fair trial in Oklahoma City. His first choice is Charleston, West Virginia. "I felt the case would have to be changed to the East," he explains. "Government witnesses are in Washington, D.C.; Kansas, Michigan and Oklahoma. Charleston is about the same distance from all these places."
But if Jones cannot get Charleston--or even if he can and finds it an inhospitable venue--he rattles off a list of six other cities. "You can always have a second change of venue," he says. Last on the list: Fairbanks, Alaska. Jones expects at least nine months to go by after the indictment before a trial finally begins somewhere or other.
Meanwhile, the attorney is already developing themes he intends to exploit at the trial. One is an attack on the government for excess zeal. "The government is as much on trial as my client," says Jones. In particular, he assails President Clinton and Attorney General Janet Reno for announcing that the government would seek the death penalty "before the grand jury had heard a single piece of evidence," as the lawyer wrote in a letter to Patrick Ryan, U.S. Attorney in Oklahoma City. Under Justice Department rules, after an indictment Ryan will have to recommend to Reno what penalty to seek and wait for an official answer. Jones claims the Reno-Clinton calls for the death penalty--before investigators even had a suspect--violated Justice's own rules.
The evidence Jones wants to present to the grand jury this week comes from an informant who, the lawyer says, told the FBI in early April that he knew of a bomb plot in the Midwest. The attorney says he has interviewed the man, who presented a letter from the government granting him immunity and a list of details about a conspiracy to bomb a "federal court facility." The alleged perpetrators of this plot were Arabs said to be skilled in handling explosives. Arab terrorists, of course, were the immediate targets of public suspicion before McVeigh's arrest.
Jones further claims there were two explosions, meaning perhaps two bombs. He also says a law-enforcement official has told him a leg not belonging to any of the known dead and covered with camouflage pants was found. He suggests it belonged to the "real" bomber, who failed to get away in time and blew himself up. Even if some or all of this can be proved, it does not necessarily clear McVeigh: there could have been two bombs and two bombers.
Meanwhile, the government, which said last week that three or four people would be indicted in the case, is also preparing its case. Timothy's sister Jennifer McVeigh testified for three hours to the grand jury last week, bursting into tears at least twice outside the sessions. She was reportedly granted immunity by the prosecution; there are stories that she will say her brother roamed Midwestern roads in a van filled with explosives and once almost killed himself when he came close to a crash. Jones says if Jennifer testifies, "I think she will say some things helpful to the defense." He puts on a show of being not just unruffled but also smug. He reels off names of famous defendants who won surprise acquittals against the seeming weight of evidence. If he can do the same for McVeigh, it will be the biggest surprise of all.