The Music of Souls, page 19
“The defendant, Avalynn Cole, has been charged with the crime of murdering John Peterson. The evidence will show that he died of stab wounds inflicted by the defendant with dressmaker’s shears. On the 10th of May this year, she stabbed him twice and used unreasonable force against him which caused him to die. The evidence I present to you will prove that the defendant is guilty as charged,” he said. A knot formed in my throat, this felt so surreal all of a sudden. Had this really happened right now? Was he right? Had I used unreasonable force? Before my thoughts could get even more out of control, my father stood up.
“Your Honour and Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury,” he said, just as Mr Kennedy had.
“Under the law my client is presumed innocent until proven guilty. During this trial I will defend my client against said crime. Avalynn Cole was acting in self-defence, protecting herself and the store owner from getting hurt or even killed. Therefore, my client is not guilty,” my father said and sat down again. I had expected more of an in-depth defence from him, but I supposed he had never been a person of many words.
“We will now start to call the witnesses. The prosecution may call its first witness,” the judge said.
Mr Kennedy got up again. “I would like to call Ms Puffy Stuarts, the owner of the tailor shop.”
I didn’t know where she was coming from, but there she was being guided to the witness stand by the bailiff.
The clerk stood up and turned to her. “Please raise your right hand,” he said and waited until she had done so. “Do you promise that the testimony you shall give in the case before this court shall be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”
“Yes, I do,” Ms Stuarts said. She sounded calm. I didn’t think she would handle herself so well, she had looked so scared and powerless that day. But there she was, standing straight, speaking with a clear voice. Apparently, I was the only one shitting my pants here.
“Please state your first and last name and spell your last name for the record.”
“My name is Puffy Stuarts. S-T-U-A-R-T-S,” she said.
“You may be seated,” the clerk said and sat down again as well.
Mr Kennedy got up and faced her. “Ms Stuarts, where do you work?”
“I work at Puffy’s Tailor Shop. I own it,” she said and looked directly at me. I couldn’t really tell what she was thinking, her face was blank. But seeing her eyes took me straight back to that day. I could almost feel the warm blood on my hands and see the dead body in front of my eyes. She moved her mouth, but for a moment I couldn’t hear anything. A bad ringing in my ears was blocking all sound. I looked at the table and breathed in and out a few times.
“So, you were working there on May 10th?” I heard Mr Kennedy say, but it sounded far away.
“Yes, I was working that day,” she answered.
“And Ms Cole was there as well?” Mr Kennedy asked.
“Yes, she dropped by that day,” she said.
“Had she visited the store before?” he asked.
“No, that was the first time I’d seen her,” she answered.
“Why did Ms Cole come to your store?” he asked.
“It was to pick up costumes for the company she was working for,” she said and looked at me again. She still had a blank expression on her face, but her voice was starting to sound a bit unstable.
“Does the company use your services often?” Mr Kennedy asked. I started to wonder why those questions could be in any way relevant to the case.
“Yes,” she answered.
“But it was the first time you had seen Ms Cole?” he asked again. Maybe he was just a bit dense.
“Yes,” she said and sounded somewhat impatient with these questions already.
“Usually someone else picks up the costumes then?” he asked.
“Yes, usually it’s someone else. I don’t know why Ms Cole was the one picking up the clothes,” she said, probably answering the next question he was about to ask.
“Okay, so tell us, Ms Stuarts, was there anything unusual about Ms Cole’s behaviour?” Mr Kennedy asked. I thought back to the time in question and wondered if I had acted weirdly. But I couldn’t remember being anything but my usual self. Well, that would be considered weird by some people for sure.
“Not at all,” she answered and for the first time she almost looked offended that he’d even asked that question.
“What happened after she entered the store?” he asked, seemingly ignoring her reaction to the question.
“She said that she was there to pick up the costumes, so I went into the back to pick them up,” she said, and her voice started to tremble. Maybe now she was also back in that day, feeling scared and anxious all over again.
“And what happened after you picked up the costumes?” Mr Kennedy asked her.
“She wasn’t standing there anymore, instead that man was there,” she said. She blinked her eyes multiple times, as if she wanted to fight off tears.
“With ‘that man’, I assume you mean Mr Peterson,” Mr Kennedy said.
“Yes,” she answered.
“What did he want?” he asked. She was silent for a moment. You could see her trying to decide what she should say or not.
“Ms Stuarts?” Mr Kennedy asked. She looked extremely distressed now.
“Are you by any chance afraid of answering this question, Ms Stuarts?” the judge asked, and she just managed to nod. I knew exactly what that man had wanted and if she were to tell the court about that, it would make clear that this case was probably even bigger than these people expected. Ms Stuarts was looking at me now, almost as if she was trying to find an answer. But I didn’t know the answer. I wouldn’t know what to do either. She sighed then.
“He wanted money,” she finally said. I was surprised how it seemed like this was the first time she was talking about it. She must have already given a statement to the police.
“Why did he want money?” Mr Kennedy asked.
“I don’t know,” she answered.
“Had he dropped by before?” Mr Kennedy asked.
“Yes, he came every month to get money from me,” she answered.
“Was it some kind of rent?” he asked.
“No, I don’t know what it was for. But he said if I didn’t pay it, they would close my shop,” she said, visibly shaken now.
“But you said you didn’t know why he dropped by that day to pick up money,” he asked.
“Because I had already paid for that month. He demanded another payment, but I didn’t have the money,” she explained.
“How did he react to that?” he asked. Apparently, he’d decided to drop the greater context and move on with the case at hand.
“He threatened me,” she said, trembling. The tears that she’d fought so hard to hold back were streaming down her face now. My heart was hurting just looking at her.
“What happened then?” Mr Kennedy asked, adjusting his tone to a softer one.
“He started to strangle me,” she choked out, holding her throat. Almost as if she was protecting it. She was wearing a scarf today, so maybe she was still hiding the bruises from that day.
“Were you able to free yourself?” he asked, and she shook her head.
“No, he was a really strong man. Ms Cole saved me,” she said, still sobbing.
“What did Ms Cole do?” he asked.
“She rammed dressmaker’s shears into his back, and he let go of me. He didn’t expect that,” she explained.
“What happened after Mr Peterson let go of you?” he asked.
“He got distracted by Ms Cole and I took my chance to call the police. I wasn’t sure if she’d already done that or not,” she said.
Thank God she did!
“Were you able to follow what happened between the two of them while you were on the phone?” he asked.
“I wasn’t able to pick up all of it. But it sounded like they knew each other,” she said.
“Did you catch from where?” he asked.
“No,” she answered.
“Okay, Ms Stuarts. How did the two of them interact with each other?” he asked.
“The man started to go after her, and Ms Cole was moving behind the tables to put some distance between them. I couldn’t see from my position, but he had a knife in his hand, trying to get to her,” she said. She was almost calm again now.
“How do you know he chased her with a knife, if you couldn’t see it?” Mr Kennedy asked.
“At some point he turned around and saw me on the phone. Ms Cole must have realised that he wanted to get rid of me, because she grabbed another pair of shears and stepped in front of me,” she looked at me. When she was talking about it like that, I still couldn’t believe I’d actually done something like that.
There was a small pause, as if Mr Kennedy was thinking about his next question.
“What happened then?” he asked.
“He was making fun of her and telling her that she wouldn’t hurt him again anyway. He was blabbering about her being a good girl. And then he started to approach us slowly. He said he wanted to end it before the police came,” she described. I could see it in front of my eyes again. The tall man slowly moving forward, daring me to stab him.
“Was he still holding his knife?” he asked.
“Yes,” she answered.
“Was he threatening Ms Cole with the knife?” he asked. She thought about it for a while.
“It was in his hand, by his side,” she said eventually.
“So it didn’t look like he was about to use it?” he asked.
“I am not sure,” she answered, confused.
“How did Ms Cole react?” he asked.
“She stabbed him with the shears when he got too close,” she said.
“Did she actively move forward to stab him?” he asked. She looked at me again, looking lost.
“Yes,” she said.
“What happened after Ms Cole stabbed him again?” he asked.
“They both fell over and the man screamed once and then tried to pull the shears out of his body,” she said.
“No one helped him after he fell?” Mr Kennedy asked. Like we wanted to help a person who had wanted to murder us.
“No,” she answered.
“Alright. Did something happen after that?” he asked.
“He was cursing loudly and then made a strangling sound. Soon after he didn’t move anymore,” she explained.
“What did Ms Cole do during that time?” he asked.
“She seemed paralysed and unable to do or say anything. She just sat on the floor until the police arrived,” she said.
“Thank you, Ms Stuarts, I have no further questions,” Mr Kennedy said and sat down. He looked rather defeated to be honest. I didn’t expect to see him like that, he had seemed so cocky and sure of himself before the trial had started.
“Does the defence have any questions?” The judge asked.
“Yes, Your Honour,” my father said and stood up.
“Ms Stuarts, do you believe that Ms Cole could have avoided the death of Mr Peterson?” my father asked.
“I don’t know. I am sure she didn’t try to kill him,” Ms Stuarts answered.
“What makes you think that?” my father asked.
“Because she was truly terrified by the situation and if it hadn’t been for her, I would probably be dead now,” Ms Stuarts said.
“Thank you, Ms Stuarts, I have no further questions,” my father said and sat down.
“The witness Ms Stuarts is excused. The prosecution may call the next witness,” the judge announced, and Ms Stuarts left the witness stand.
“The people call the arresting officer, Special Agent Miller,” Mr Kennedy said. I was surprised that he called Andrew. That hadn’t even crossed my mind before.
Andrew was taken to the witness stand and the procedure started again. After he had stated his name he sat down and looked at Mr Kennedy. He looked a bit bored to be fair.
“Special Agent Miller, were you on duty on the afternoon of May 10th?” Mr Kennedy asked.
“Yes,” Andrew answered.
“Were you the first to arrive at the scene?” Mr Kennedy asked.
“Yes, my team and I were the first to arrive,” Andrew answered.
“Was that the first time you had seen Ms Cole?” Mr Kennedy asked.
“No,” Andrew answered.
“Did you know her from a prior case?” Mr Kennedy asked.
“Yes,” Andrew said. His answers were so short and disinterested. That really didn’t fit his usual behaviour.
“What was that case about?” Mr Kennedy asked.
“She has been an eye-witness for another case,” Andrew answered vaguely.
“Does that case have any relation to this one?” Mr Kennedy asked.
“In some way, yes,” Andrew said.
“In what way?” Mr Kennedy asked.
“Would you please be a bit more specific with your question, Sir?” Andrew asked.
“Was Mr Peterson involved in the other case?” Mr Kennedy asked.
“We can assume that Mr Peterson was involved in the other case, yes,” Andrew answered.
“So when Ms Stuarts said they seemed to know each other, it may have been because of that case?” Mr Kennedy asked.
“That is possible,” Andrew said.
“When you arrived at the scene, how did the situation strike you?” Mr Kennedy asked.
“It looked rather messy. From the looks of it, Mr Peterson must have chased Ms Cole through the store. His blood covered large parts of the floor. Ms Cole seemed in shock,” he explained.
“What did you do after observing that?” Mr Kennedy asked.
“I helped Ms Cole up and my team and I took her to the police station to question her,” he answered.
“Did Ms Cole try to escaped or refuse to cooperate at any point?” Mr Kennedy asked.
“No, she was cooperative, and she didn’t try to escape,” Andrew answered. Not that I hadn’t been thinking about it, but I just knew running from them wouldn’t help me in any way.
“Did she admit killing Mr Peterson when you questioned her?” Mr Kennedy asked.
“She admitted that she stabbed Mr Peterson,” Andrew answered.
“Thank you, I have no further questions,” Mr Kennedy said.
“Does the defence wish to ask any questions?” The judge asked.
“No, Your Honour,” my father answered.
“In that case, the witness is excused. Does the prosecution have any other witnesses?” the judge asked Mr Kennedy.
“Yes, Your Honour. The people call Chief Deputy Coroner Jennifer Leeman,” Mr Kennedy said. Just how many witnesses does this person have? I had no idea how much times had passed, but it sure felt like I had spent hours in there already. And I was starting to worry that I might pass out at some point. I wanted to lie down and shut these people out of my head. I was so deep in thought I hadn’t realised that Mr Kennedy was already asking the witness questions.
“Yes, I have examined Mr Peterson,” Ms Leeman was saying.
“Were you present at the crime scene as well?” Mr Kennedy asked.
“Yes,” she said.
“Can you tell us what you saw when you arrived at the scene?”
“Yes. When I entered the store, there was blood covering large areas of the floor and in the middle of the room, there was a person laying on the ground in a puddle of blood, covered with a sheet,” she explained. She sounded so neutral about it. It almost didn’t seem like she was describing a murder scene. But that could be because she was so used to this, that it just didn’t faze her anymore.
“Had he been pronounced dead by then?” Mr Kennedy asked.
“Yes, he was pronounced dead prior to me getting there,” she said with a nod.
“Did you examine the body of Mr Peterson at the scene?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said.
“And did anything about his body stand out for you?” he asked. I could barely manage to suppress the urge to roll my eyes. The answer to that question should be obvious.
“Yes. There were two scissors sticking in his body,” she replied, keeping a straight face.
“Could you determine at that point that this was definitely a coroner’s case and that an autopsy was required?” Mr Kennedy asked.
“Yes,” she said.
“Did you perform the autopsy on John Peterson?” he asked.
“Yes, I did,” she answered.
“Let’s talk about the external examination of John Peterson’s body. What kind of injuries did you notice?” Mr Kennedy asked.
“He had two stab wounds. One in the back on the left side of his body and one in his stomach. He also had another wound in his stomach, caused by the exit of the scissors from the back that were pushed through him. He also had a wound on his head, probably an impact of some kind,” she answered. I shivered, just the thought of how those scissors had gone right through him was causing me agony.
“Do you have an explanation as to why he had that wound on his head?” he asked.
“He must have fallen on his back and hit his head. That’s probably how the scissors were pushed through him,” she said. Like she didn’t know exactly how things had gone.
“Were the injuries to the body fatal?” Mr Kennedy asked.
“Fatal?” she asked back.
“Did the injuries lead to an immediate or quick death?” he asked now.
“No, his injuries didn’t lead to an immediate death,” she answered. “And the wounds didn’t directly lead to a quick death.”
“What exactly was the cause of his death then?” Mr Kennedy asked.
“He died from sudden cardiac death,” she said.
“Could you please explain what that means exactly?” Mr Kennedy asked.
“Sudden cardiac death is a sudden unexpected death caused by a change in the heart rhythm. It can occur during a myocardial infarction, which is more commonly known as a heart attack. It results when the blood flow decreases or stops to a part of the heart. Mr Peterson also suffered a hypovolemic shock. This happens when you lose more than 20 percent of your body’s blood,” she said.
“Does this condition require immediate emergency treatment?” Mr Kennedy asked.
