Her Deadly Game, page 23
“That is true.”
“But he willingly agreed to such a test, didn’t he?”
“He did.”
Keera and Patsy would, later in the trial, cross-examine the CSI detectives to establish that neither Vince LaRussa’s fingerprints nor his DNA were found on the gun, and no blood spatter was found on his hands or his clothes. They would use the time that LaRussa arrived home and the time that he reemerged outside the home to argue that he couldn’t possibly have shot his wife, wiped the gun clean of prints and DNA, and changed into a new set of identical clothes, though he likely did have sufficient time—had the killing been premeditated.
Patsy frequently changed subjects to keep Rossi off balance and try to catch the detective off guard. Her father was the attorney she had watched as a child, calculating and pointed, but still affable to the jury. Maybe he had slipped, but it was not apparent this morning. This afternoon he had risen to the challenge, proving that the Irish Brawler still had a few more good rounds in him.
“Did Mr. LaRussa advise you that his wife had been depressed and irritable?” Patsy said. The question was off script from what they had discussed, and Keera felt a twinge of anxiety.
“Yes, he said words to that effect.”
“And he told you that his wife was on prescription pain medication, opioids?”
“Yes, he did.”
“He told you he didn’t know what specific medications his wife took or the amount, but that you were free to look for yourself in the medicine cabinet in the master bathroom?”
“Yes, he did.”
“And you did that, did you not?”
“I called in a forensic pharmacist to inventory the medications in the medicine cabinet.”
“Why didn’t you just do it yourself?” Patsy certainly knew the answer, but he wanted the answer to come from Rossi.
“There was a considerable number of prescriptions.”
Patsy put up a CSI photograph showing the medicine cabinet with the significant number of prescription bottles. Rossi authenticated the photograph. After several more questions, Patsy established that the forensic pharmacist, Bonnie Kramer, had provided a report of her findings, and he put her report on the computer screens for display to the jurors. Both sides had stipulated that the report and the photographs were authentic, so the pharmacist did not have to be called to testify. Patsy handed a copy of the report to Rossi.
“Would you take a look on the fourth page of that report where the forensic pharmacist noted the medications and the amount of each medication prescribed?” Patsy asked.
Rossi did, and Patsy took him through the medications in painstaking detail. They included oxycodone, or Oxycontin, and hydrocodone, or Vicodin. Patsy had Rossi state the dates on the bottles and the amounts within each bottle. Keera could see from the jurors’ expressions that the detailed list was hitting home but also that they expected Patsy to do something with the information.
“Did the forensic pharmacist provide an expert opinion as to the number of or the amount of these drugs she found in Anne LaRussa’s medicine cabinet?” Patsy asked.
“Not in this report,” Rossi said.
“Did she say something to you like ‘Wow, that is a lot of opioids?’”
“No,” Rossi said, unable to suppress a smile. The jurors also smiled.
“Did she say anywhere in the report that these opioids are addictive?”
“Yes.”
“Did she say these opioids can cause a person to become confused and depressed?”
Ambrose objected. “Your Honor, counsel is testifying.”
Judge Hung shook her head. “This is cross-examination. I’ll allow counsel some leeway. But Mr. Duggan, you’re getting close.”
“I’ll move on, Your Honor.” Patsy had made his point. He addressed Rossi. “Did the forensic pharmacist note the name of the doctor who prescribed these opioids?”
“The name was on the prescription bottles.”
“And whose name was that?”
And in that moment, Keera understood what Patsy had done. Having Rossi testify before Bennet had been Ambrose’s first trial mistake, and Patsy had just taken advantage of his error. In Ambrose’s effort to screw with Keera, he hadn’t considered that Patsy would portray Bennet as a doctor who had overprescribed opioids to a woman she would call her best friend. Presenting the medicine cabinet to the jury, with all the many bottles dated one after the other, painted an impression of Bennet in the jurors’ minds before the doctor ever took the stand. Patsy had set up the chess pieces for Keera to strike.
“Dr. Lisa Bennet,” Rossi said.
“Vince LaRussa told you his wife, Anne LaRussa, was depressed, didn’t he?”
“He said that, yes.”
“Did he say she was also confused?”
“I don’t recall him using that word.”
“What about the word ‘paranoid’? Did he use that word?”
“I believe he did, yes.”
“Did he say what his wife was paranoid about?”
“I don’t recall that he did.”
Patsy moved on. “At any time during your investigation, Detective Rossi, did you find Mr. LaRussa to be uncooperative?”
“Uncooperative? No.”
“Reticent or unforthcoming?”
“No.”
“While you questioned him at his house, did he ever refuse to answer your questions?”
“No.”
“Did he preclude you from conducting any part of your investigation?”
“No.”
“He didn’t, at any time, appear to you to be hiding anything, or concerned about what your investigation might find?”
Ambrose objected. “Counsel is asking this witness to speculate as to what the defendant might have been doing.”
“No, Your Honor,” Patsy said in the tone of a genteel Southern gentleman. “I’m asking this seasoned police detective if my client did anything at any time during his investigation that this seasoned police detective interpreted to be evasive, or an attempt to hide evidence.”
“Overruled,” Judge Hung said. “You may answer the question, Detective.”
“I did not interpret anything the defendant did to be evasive or an attempt to hide any evidence.”
“Did he appear to you to be upset or distraught?”
“He appeared to be upset. I can’t say whether he was distraught or not.”
Patsy cross-examined Rossi for another fifteen minutes, and each question brought an internal smile to Keera’s face. As he wrapped up, he asked questions they would need to highlight JP Harrison’s testimony when Keera called witnesses to present the defense’s case. Patsy asked Rossi open-ended questions, though this was cross-examination, because he knew the answers and he knew Rossi to be a straight shooter, honest. “Detective Rossi, what was the temperature that Sunday, June fourth?”
“Hot,” Rossi said, garnering smiles from the jury.
Patsy also smiled. “Not exactly a meteorologist, are you?” he said, garnering more smiles—a trick he had taught Keera. If the witness gets the jury to smile, go with it.
“Hardly.”
“You did record the temperature in your report. Do you need time to check?”
“No. It was 106 degrees outside.”
“Was it hot inside the house?”
“Very.”
“Hotter than 106 degrees?”
“I don’t know, but it was hot.”
“Did the LaRussas have air-conditioning?”
“They did, but Mr. LaRussa said it should have kicked on automatically.”
“Did you ask him why the air-conditioning did not kick on?”
“Someone turned off the switch on the control panel.”
“Mr. LaRussa told you he didn’t turn it off, didn’t he?”
“He said he did not.”
Patsy pulled up a picture of the burn mark on the oven door found by JP Harrison. “Do you recognize this photograph?”
“It looks like the oven door in the kitchen.”
“And what is that dark mark on the handle?”
Rossi looked more closely, then said, “I don’t know.”
“Did you observe water on the kitchen floor?”
“I did.”
“How much?”
“I don’t know. A glass was also on the floor, so perhaps eight ounces. I don’t really know the quantity.”
“Did the CSI detectives at the crime scene provide you, as the lead detective, with an analysis of the water found on the kitchen floor?”
“An analysis?”
“Yes. A chemical analysis.”
“Of the water?”
“That’s right.”
“I’m not sure,” Rossi said, smiling.
“There was water on the kitchen counter, wasn’t there?”
“There was. Some.”
“How do you explain it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Was there a candle on the counter?”
“Yes.”
“Was it lit?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know why it was there?”
“I didn’t. Not at that time. I subsequently learned that Mrs. LaRussa lit scented candles, that the aroma calmed her.”
Patsy left the answer alone. “Did you reach any conclusions, based on the CSI reports, as to where the shooter stood at the time he or she discharged the weapon?”
“The shooter was behind Anne LaRussa. He held the gun barrel between three to five feet from the back of her head.”
“Did you stand three to five feet behind Anne LaRussa to determine if that position was feasible for the shooter?”
“I don’t understand.”
“Let me illustrate.” Patsy put up a photograph previously authenticated and taken by the CSI team, which included measurements. “How far is the kitchen counter from the deceased’s wheelchair in this photograph?”
Rossi didn’t immediately answer. He looked at the sketch. “It appears to be three feet, six inches.”
“How wide is that counter?”
“Forty-eight inches.”
“So the shooter, you concluded, had to have been standing on the far side of the counter. Here,” Patsy said, using a baton. “That’s seven feet, three inches, isn’t it?”
Rossi smiled. “It is. However, the shooter could have reached his arm across the counter and leaned into the shot before he pulled the trigger.”
“Yes, he or she might have done that,” Patsy said, as if the answer made sense. Then he pounced, subtly. “Did you find any blood spatter on Vince LaRussa’s clothing, his jacket, or the sleeve of his shirt, which led you to believe he had reached his arm across the counter and discharged the weapon?”
Rossi paused. “No, we did not.”
“How often in your experience do shooters leave the murder weapon behind at the crime scene, Detective?”
“Not often.”
“Can you recall such a case?”
“Just one,” Rossi said. He explained the case he and Keera had worked where he found a gun in the woods when the killer dropped it upon fleeing.
“So this is unusual,” Patsy said.
“Very.”
“You indicated the shooter was likely standing in this location,” Patsy said, again using the pointer. “Where was the gun found?”
Rossi pointed to the location alongside the wheelchair. Patsy put up another photograph on the computer monitor. “Wouldn’t the shooter have dropped the weapon at his or her side and left out the front door?”
Rossi saw this trap or thought he did. “He could have tossed the gun over the counter.”
“Tossed?” Patsy said, his voice rising. “Tossed a loaded 9-millimeter handgun four or five feet onto a tile floor?” Skepticism dripped from each word.
“Yes,” Rossi said.
Patsy made a face like he didn’t believe it. “That would be very dangerous, wouldn’t it?”
“It could be, yes,” Rossi said.
“A lot more dangerous than simply letting the gun slip from the hand to the ground, correct?”
“But the person might not have been thinking clearly. He may have panicked.”
Patsy smiled. He’d goaded Rossi into a mistake. “This shooter, whom the State has hypothesized shot Anne LaRussa with premeditation and forethought, using an untraceable gun, who either wore gloves or took the time to wipe the gun clean of fingerprints and DNA, then was smart enough to not only change clothes, but to change into clothes identical to the clothes he wore to a charity event that night, and somehow discarded his other clothes, this very deliberate shooter was so careless that he simply tossed a loaded gun over the counter onto the tile floor? Is that what you’re saying?”
“He could have walked around the counter to ensure Anne LaRussa was dead, and placed the gun on the floor,” Rossi said.
“The husband, who knows his wife’s hands are crippled, walks around the counter and places the gun on the floor to, what, make it look like a suicide? That doesn’t make any sense, does it, Detective Rossi?” Patsy asked.
Rossi shook his head. “Or just to ensure she was dead.”
“Anne LaRussa was incapable of holding and firing a handgun, wasn’t she?”
“That’s what the evidence indicated.”
“Her husband would have presumably known that, wouldn’t he?”
“Objection,” Ambrose said standing. “Calls for speculation.”
“Overruled.”
“I assume he would have,” Rossi said.
“So walking around the counter and dropping the gun would have been idiotic; wouldn’t it?”
“People do idiotic things in high-stress situations.”
“Did Vince LaRussa strike you as an idiot?”
“No.”
“When you interviewed Vince LaRussa, did he at any time indicate to you that he believed his wife committed suicide?”
“No.”
“He didn’t tell you his wife was talking about killing herself?”
“No.”
Patsy paused here, making a face like Rossi’s answers were puzzling. Then he shifted gears. “Other than Mr. LaRussa, what other suspects did you consider?”
“We looked at a number of other potential suspects.”
“Can you name them for me?”
“Syd Evans and Dr. Lisa Bennet, because of the close proximity of their visits to the shooting.”
Patsy stood for a moment as if considering his notes. He wasn’t. He wanted the jury to consider what Rossi had just said, allowing Keera to argue the police, too, had doubt. After a beat he said, “Did Dr. Lisa Bennet purchase the ghost gun found at the site?”
“We found no evidence she did,” Rossi said.
“Because that is the purpose of a ghost gun, isn’t it? To not leave behind a paper trail?”
“That can be, yes.”
“So she could have purchased the gun but there’s just no paper trail that she did?”
“There’s no paper trail.”
“No paper trail Vince LaRussa did either, is there?”
“No.”
“Did you verify that Anne LaRussa remained alive when Dr. Bennet left the house that Sunday night at 7:30 p.m.?”
“There wasn’t any way to verify it.”
“Couldn’t verify that either, huh? So it’s possible Anne LaRussa was not alive when Dr. Bennet left the house that night.”
Ambrose shot to his feet. “Calls for this witness to speculate.”
“Sustained,” Judge Hung said.
“No videotape inside the house, is there?” Patsy asked.
“No.”
“You just assumed Anne LaRussa remained alive, didn’t you?”
“We did.”
“Hmmm,” Patsy said. Then he thanked Rossi, though he did not excuse him, in case the defense decided to call Rossi during the defense’s case in chief.
As he walked back to counsel table, Patsy gave Keera a wry smile and whispered, “Let them call another witness out of order to screw with my daughter.”
Ambrose made his way to the lectern. “Detective Rossi, did Mr. LaRussa tell you he had looked at the security tape prior to your arrival to try to determine who might have come to the home while he was at the charitable function?”
“No. He didn’t say that he did.”
“He didn’t tell you that the Collinses’ attorney, Syd Evans, or that Anne’s doctor, Lisa Bennet, had come to the home while he was away.”
“He didn’t say that. No.”
“Did you find it odd that a man with a security system and cameras comes home to, at least according to him, find his wife shot, but didn’t look at the security footage to possibly determine who had come to the home?”
Keera almost objected that the question was leading, but she refrained, knowing Rossi would not give Ambrose the answer he wanted. Keera could argue in closing that LaRussa’s not immediately looking at the tape proved he hadn’t been trying to determine what he could and could not get away with, but rather had been a man in shock.
“I didn’t think about that,” Rossi said. “I was focused on securing the crime scene and gathering as much evidence as possible.”
“Counsel for the defense asked if you’d considered other suspects, and you said Syd Evans and Dr. Bennet because they both arrived at the house Sunday evening. Did you eventually dismiss Dr. Bennet as a suspect?”
“We did.”
“Why?”
“Dr. Bennet said Anne LaRussa accused her of cheating with her husband for the first time that Sunday night. That being the case, there would have been no reason for Dr. Bennet to have purchased a ghost gun and brought it to the house that night. Dr. Bennet would not have had any motive to kill Anne LaRussa at that time.” Ambrose had, as Keera had predicted, driven a big truck through the argument that no evidence existed that Anne had threatened Lisa Bennet before that Sunday night.
Ambrose sat, and to Keera’s surprise Patsy stood and moved to the podium.
“You accepted Dr. Bennet’s statement that Anne LaRussa didn’t accuse her of cheating until Sunday night and therefore Dr. Bennet had no reason to buy the gun before that moment?” Patsy said.
“Yes.”
“What if Dr. Bennet lied?” Patsy said. “You would have been wrong to accept her word, wouldn’t you?”
