The Verdict, page 20
“Can I get an introduction?” Kinsey asked, sidling up beside us.
“Barbara,” I said carefully, staring at her and hoping she wouldn’t say anything. “This is a journalist.”
Barbara frowned as she took in Kinsey. It suddenly occurred to me how this might look to Barbara. I hadn’t really thought about how Kinsey was an attractive woman in her early twenties.
“A reporter?” Barbara said. She spun. “Excuse me.” She stalked off.
“A bit abrupt, wasn’t she?”
“What’s your blog’s address?” I asked.
“I’m gonna let you figure that out yourself, Mr. Turner.”
I nodded. There probably wasn’t one.
“Where did you go to school?”
“I’m not answering these questions.”
“How about dinner tonight?”
“I’m not sure that would be a wise idea,” Kinsey said uncertainly.
“Don’t you want every opportunity you can to wheedle information from me?”
“I think it’s time for us to go back into the courtroom.”
I smiled at Kinsey’s back, sure I was onto her.
She was a plant.
I didn’t know what she was trying to accomplish, but I suspected that after I figured that out, she’d help me find the person who killed Thomas Guyton.
50
Frank Ward’s first witness was Detective Stephanie Gray. This was no surprise as she was the lead detective on the case and a responding officer.
It would be weird to watch Stephanie testify without cross-examining her myself. I’d been hyper-focused when I’d cross-examined her on other cases.
But I’d never observed her as a spectator. Hopefully, it would be informative, especially when Keith Williams had his chance to question her. It would be a little like reviewing videos from an opposing team.
It might give me an advantage the next time I squared off with Stephanie in the courtroom.
Detective Gray was sworn in, and Frank asked her questions about her background, how long she’d been with the force, and her experience.
Then he got to the meat of the matter.
“Ms. Gray, can you tell us what happened on Wednesday, August 25, at approximately 4:15 PM?”
“Yes, I was working a complex case when I got a call from Mitch Turner.”
“What did Mr. Turner have to say?”
“He was vague on the phone. He told me an address, said I needed to come, and that I needed to bring some police officers with me. He said a client had found a body.”
“What did you think this meant?”
“My first thought was that he might’ve been messing around, but Mitch Turner doesn’t do that often, so I figured this was a serious situation. I assumed a client had gotten into trouble and that Mr. Turner was trying to help the guy out.”
“Have you received other such calls from Mitch Turner before?”
“Yes, a few months before that, I actually received a call from Mr. Turner, asking me to arrest somebody who was stalking Barbara Sampson.”
“Did you respond?”
“I arrested the stalker.”
“Back to August 25, you had every reason to believe Mr. Turner was telling the truth about the body, even though he was being less than forthcoming. Is this correct?”
“Yes.”
Less than forthcoming? I thought. I told them there was a body.
“What happened next?”
“It took me a few minutes to extricate myself from what I was doing because I was working another case. It was a jam-packed day, but I wanted to respond to the situation as fast as possible. I called a few officers, and we responded to the address Mitch Turner gave us.”
“What did you find when you arrived?”
“What we found was Mitch Turner waiting for us out in the hallway. Dressed in a suit, of course, with his usual snarky attitude.”
I repressed a snort.
“What did Mr. Turner tell you?”
“He gave us a basic rundown of the facts as he understood them. Barbara had supposedly been in the shower. Her boyfriend, Thomas Guyton, had been killed while she was showering, and so he’d called us to report the incident.”
“What did you do next?”
“My first thought was for the victim. We thought he might still be alive, though I suspected this was likely not the case since Mr. Turner would have called an ambulance. I asked and received confirmation from Mr. Turner that Barbara had assured him Guyton was dead.”
“What were your thoughts at this time?”
“That we needed to confirm this was true and secure the crime scene.”
“How did you know it was a crime scene?”
“Mr. Turner disclosed Mr. Guyton had been shot.”
“Was there anything else Mr. Turner disclosed before you gained access to the room?”
“Yes, he also told us Barbara had tried to resuscitate Mr. Guyton and was covered in his blood.”
“What happened next?”
“Mitch knocked. Barbara opened the door. The chain was in place, and she was blocking the door. She appeared to be on the floor, something I confirmed when we entered the apartment a few moments later. She kneeled to unchain the door and then went back down.”
“And what did you find?”
“We found Thomas Guyton on a rug in his living room. He appeared to have been shot eight times, something we knew because of the empty brass, a fact later confirmed by the coroner. The apparent murder weapon was found right beside him. This was later confirmed through ballistics to be the actual murder weapon.”
“Let’s talk about Barbara. You said she was on the floor?”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“Can you describe her appearance and demeanor?”
“She was distraught. She was highly volatile and emotional. She was also covered in the victim’s blood, as Mr. Turner had already reported.”
“What initial assessments did you make of the situation, if any?”
“Initially, I thought there was some truth to what Mitch Turner told us. I didn’t know Barbara but knew of her reputation and had no reason to suspect she’d be guilty of criminal wrongdoing.”
I doubted Frank was happy with this assessment and was certain I’d seen him quickly hiding a grimace. I suspected Stephanie had included this as a favor to me.
“Obviously, that assessment changed,” Frank said icily. “When did that happen?”
I glanced over at Keith Williams, expecting an objection since it was technically a leading question, but he stayed in his seat. It appeared he recognized what Stephanie had done and was grateful. It didn’t mean Stephanie had changed her mind about Barbara. It just meant she was willing to throw us a bone. At this point, we’d take anything we could get.
“Mr. Turner allowed me to question Barbara Sampson. During my questioning, I started to suspect something more had happened than was being represented.”
“What specifically made you think this?”
“It was the way she talked about Thomas Guyton. She was detached. Does that make sense?”
“Can you give us a specific example?”
“Yes, when we asked what it was like to find the body, she said, ‘It was lying on the floor.’”
I froze. I hadn’t read anything into that at the time.
Stephanie had referred to Thomas Guyton’s body as a thing.
It was only natural for Barbara to respond likewise. I made a mental note to point this out to Keith so he could cover it in his closing, even though the damage was likely done and might be hard to fix.
Frank would make a big deal of this when it wasn’t really much of a thing.
Stephanie had primed the pump for this response. Frank knew that. Stephanie knew that. Hopefully, the jury would see it for themselves.
I glanced over at the jury to see what they thought but couldn’t tell from most of their expressions. There was only one lady who seemed disturbed. I’d have taken out my phone and made a note if it hadn’t been for Kinsey sitting right beside me, carefully observing everything I was doing. I wouldn’t give her any insight into my thought processes.
“It was lying on the floor? What did she mean by that?”
“She was referring to his corpse. It was unusual for her to refer to his corpse as an ‘it.’ It’s common among law enforcement to refer to a corpse as an ‘it,’ but I don’t usually hear ordinary individuals whose significant other has just been shot eight times referring to the body as an ‘it.’ It would have been far more likely she’d say ‘him,’ don’t you think?”
“This is when you started to become suspicious?”
“Yes. This was further substantiated when we carefully examined the lock. There were no indications it had been picked. There was also no sign it had been forced. And the only prints on the doorknob were Barbara’s.”
“But isn’t it possible somebody else could have opened that door?”
“No. Barbara’s prints encompassed the outside doorknob, from side to side. Her palm print was right on the front.”
“Why did you find that significant?”
“It would’ve been impossible for somebody else to have opened that door without disturbing her fingerprints. The prints were solidly on that door.”
“Okay, so this, combined with referring to the body as an ‘it,’ made you concerned she’d actually been the one to do this, right?”
“Objection,” Keith Williams said, standing. “Leading question.”
“Sustained.” Harris looked at Frank. “Please restate your question.”
Frank thought about it. “Can you please sum up your thoughts at this point of the investigation?”
“The way she referred to Thomas Guyton’s body as an ‘it’ and her prints on the doorknob made her our prime suspect.”
“Did there come a time in your examination when she refused to answer a question?”
“Yes. I asked her why she was about to break up with Thomas. She refused to tell me why on the advice of counsel. At this point, we didn’t know about Thomas Guyton’s drug-dealing business activities. Nor did Mr. Turner disclose those to us.”
I took note of Stephanie’s careful word choice. If she hadn’t known about the drug dealing, what had she known about?
I sent a text to Keith, turning my phone to the side, hoping Kinsey couldn’t read my message.
I could’ve also done without that shot at me. Keith Williams probably should have objected, but he stayed where he was. Perhaps he thought an objection would just emphasize it in the jury’s minds.
And he was probably right if that was his reasoning.
“Why do you believe Barbara was advised not to answer your question about why she was going to break up with Thomas Guyton?”
That was going too far. Frank probably thought he could get away with the question since Keith had highlighted this in his opening.
“Objection, Your Honor,” Keith said, standing. “A person has a right to counsel and a right not to testify. No inferences should be drawn from a person exercising those rights.”
“Your Honor,” Frank said. “Mr. Turner was heavily involved in the aftermath of this day, and everything we’re asking goes to the defendant’s state of mind.”
Harris thought about it for a long moment. “Overruled. The witness may answer the question.”
I was certain this wouldn’t hold up on appeal if we got there, but there wasn’t anything Keith could do about it now.
“We believed Barbara was advised not to answer this question because it provided a motive for why she killed Thomas Guyton. She’d undoubtedly learned that Thomas Guyton was a criminal and hadn’t reacted well. Please recall how I’ve already testified she seemed distraught when we entered the room and found her sitting on the floor curled up in a ball, rocking back and forth, covered in the victim’s blood.”
“Was she muttering or saying anything?”
“Yes, she was. I couldn’t make out everything, but she mentioned the word gun several times.”
“What inferences did you draw from this, if any?”
“I wondered if maybe she was regretting a decision to shoot Thomas Guyton.”
Keith leaped out of his chair. “Objection, Your Honor! That is pure speculation. I request the testimony be stricken from the record.”
“Your Honor,” Frank said, “the detective is well aware of the situation and is most likely to provide us with the best possible analysis. It also goes to the defendant’s state of mind.”
Harris looked right at me as he said, “Overruled. The request to strike the testimony is denied.”
Once again, this was something we were likely to win on appeal. I wasn’t surprised Harris ruled this way. The man clearly had a bias of some sort against me, though I couldn’t say what it was. Perhaps he wanted to see me charged as an accessory after the fact.
The questioning then turned away from the specific actions of that day and focused more on the investigation itself. It was another half hour before Frank Ward announced he was done with Stephanie.
I was surprised Frank finished with her so quickly. I would’ve expected him to take another half a day. Perhaps he was concerned that Stephanie was a little too sympathetic toward Barbara and wanted to put somebody else with less empathy on the stand.
Judge Harris looked at the clock and then at Keith Williams. “It appears we have about five minutes before I was planning to adjourn. I assume your questions for Detective Gray will take longer than that?”
Keith stood. “Yes, we anticipate taking at least most of the morning with her, if not more.”
“We’ll adjourn and meet back here tomorrow.”
I glanced at my watch and saw that it was 4:55 PM. I hoped Winston had arrived in time so that he could follow Kinsey. I was concerned she might not show up in the courtroom again.
I’d follow her myself if Winston wasn’t out there.
“Quite the show in here today, wasn’t it?” Kinsey said lightly as she stood.
“How about that dinner? When do you want to meet?” I asked with a smile as if hitting on her, not trying to detain her.
It seemed like it might have worked, but she shook her head. “I’m sorry, I must be going. I need to write up everything I learned today.”
She darted past me and down the aisle.
I followed but remained three steps behind until I got caught in a group I couldn’t push past.
When I walked out of the courtroom, I made eye contact with Winston as I looked around.
Kinsey had disappeared.
I tamped down panic as I scanned the hallway, spotting her walking briskly down the far side.
I pointed.
Winston took off after her.
51
I felt strangely exhausted as I walked back into my office. I’d only been a spectator, but I felt like I’d been the one handling the trial. It was difficult watching Keith Williams do things differently than I would, but I had to admit the guy was actually doing a decent job, something I’d never say out loud to another living soul except for Barbara.
But even as I grudgingly admitted that, it was still hard for me to accept I wasn’t the one first chairing the case. I knew it would have been a serious mistake for me to do it, but that didn’t make it easier.
I stopped short when I saw Ellie sitting in one of the guest chairs. The receptionist’s desk was empty. It was past 6:00 PM, and I had to unlock the door before walking into the building.
“Hey, Ellie,” I said, uncertain what to make of this surprise appearance, especially since she was waiting inside a locked building. “I’m surprised to see you.”
She gave me a tight smile. “Jennifer let me in just as she was leaving, so I didn’t have to wait in the car.”
“You’re welcome any time. Would you like a job?”
She hesitated and then shook her head. “No, I just wanted to check on you. I know today must be emotional.”
“I’m drained. I don’t feel much different than if I were handling the case myself, only I get to watch the mistakes Keith Williams makes and think how I could have avoided them.”
“You would’ve made different mistakes,” she said, nodding. “Don’t deny it.”
“Fair enough,” I said, sitting beside her in one of the other guest chairs. “How was Europe?”
“Amazing.”
“You’re in full remission?”
“Yes. My hair is even growing back. It won’t be long before I can ditch this wig.”
“I’m happy to hear that.”
She nodded and made as if to go.
I put out a hand to stop her as she stood. “How about you come back part-time? Work whatever hours you want, take however much time off you need.”
“How’s Jennifer working out?”
I looked away. “She’s okay, I guess.” Then I looked Ellie straight in the eye. “I can’t remember her name. I keep calling her Ellie. It’s becoming a bit of a problem, actually. I’ve never apologized so much in my life. Every time Winston comes in, I catch guff about it. It would be nice if you returned so you could spare me that.”
Ellie gave me a wry smile. “I’m glad I’m not forgotten.”
“Come back. You’ll never be forgotten.”
“Maybe another time, Mitch.”
We stared at each other. I counted at least three heartbeats until it started to feel uncomfortable.
“So, where are you off to now?”
“I’m just here for a week or two, and then I’m getting tickets to Peru.”
“Knocking more things off your bucket list?”
Bucket list?
I shouldn’t have said that.
It was like she was somebody expecting to die.
“Yes,” Ellie said with a smile as if she could read my thoughts and wanted me to know it was okay. “Some of them.”
“Anything I can help with?”
I regretted the question as soon as it popped out.
She gave me a studious look, paused as if about to say something, and then shook her head. “No, but thanks for offering.”
She walked out the door, leaving me to wonder what she’d been about to say. There had been something she’d wanted to say but hadn’t. I thought about it as I walked into my office, turned on my computer, and got to work on Vince Cruz’s case.
