“So no other injures?” Westerly translated.
“Correct.”
“Just to her throat?”
“Correct.”
“And so based on your autopsy and your review of relevant law enforcement reports, what is your expert opinion as to exactly how Vanessa Stephenson died?”
Tuttle sat up straight in her chair, but returned to delivering her answer to Westerly, not the jurors. “Vanessa Stephenson was strangled to death.”
Westerly allowed a small grin. He was all but done. He’d finished direct exam of his final witness. It was like a pitcher walking into the dugout after striking out the side. “No further questions.”
Westerly strode over to his counsel table as Brunelle stood up behind his.
“Any cross examination, Mr. Brunelle?” Carlisle asked.
But before Brunelle could answer, Kat jumped up and whispered, “David! David!”
Brunelle turned to see Kat leaning over the half-wall that separated the gallery from the courtroom’s well. “David!”
Brunelle looked up at Carlisle and over at Westerly. Carlisle looked surprised, Westerly bemused.
“What is it?” he whispered to Kat.
“Just ask her one question,” Kat whispered. “Ask her what room the body was found in.”
“Uh, okay,” Brunelle replied. “I can ask that.”
“No, just that,” Kat clarified. “Just that question, then sit down.”
Brunelle just stared at her for a moment. He had an entire cross examination prepared. She was ripe for cross examination. There was so much there to play with. He shook his head. “No, I have to ask her more than that. I have to draw out the weaknesses in her testimony.”
“Mr. Brunelle?” Carlisle interrupted, the irritation clear in her tone. “Are you going to conduct any cross examination?”
Kat reached out and grabbed Brunelle’s hand. “Trust me, David. Just that one question. She won’t know. Then sit down.”
Another shake of his head. “Kat…”
“Please, David,” Kat pleaded. “Trust me.”
He just stared at her for a moment.
“Mr. Brunelle?” It was his last warning. One more time and he’d be in contempt again. And this time he knew it would be a lot more than one dollar.
Kat didn’t say, ‘Trust me’ again. But her eyes held the thought.
Brunelle turned around. “Thank you, Your Honor. My apologies.” He glanced at Westerly, whose bemusement had morphed into the slightest unease. Then he nodded to the witness. “I just have one question.”
He could sense Kat relax behind him and she retook her seat as Brunelle approached the witness stand.
“What room was Vanessa’s body found in?”
Tuttle cocked her head. “Excuse me?” As if she hadn’t heard the question.
“I said, what room in the dance studio was Vanessa’s body found in?” Brunelle repeated. “You don’t know, do you?”
Tuttle looked down at her autopsy report, then back up at Brunelle. “Well, it’s not in my actual autopsy report,” she admitted. “But I’m sure it’s in the police reports. Or the report of our techs who collected the body.”
“But you don’t know right now,” Brunelle confirmed, “as you sit here and tell the jury your opinion that Vanessa was murdered, correct?”
Tuttle looked again at her report, then to Westerly, but she wasn’t going to get any help from either. “No,” she finally admitted. “I don’t recall that right now.”
Brunelle nodded. Then, despite his better instincts, he looked up to Judge Carlisle. “No further questions.”
As he walked back to counsel table, mentally shaking his head at the missed opportunity to cross Tuttle fully, he was barely aware of Carlisle asking Westerly if he had any further questions, and Westerly gladly replying no, thus ending the examination of his last witness, and thus his case-in-chief.
“The People rest their case,” Westerly announced as Brunelle sat down.
Carlisle banged her gavel. There were still a couple of hours left in the workday, but it was customary to let the defense start their case fresh the following morning. “Ladies and gentlemen,” she announced to the jurors, “that concludes the People’s case. We will adjourn until tomorrow morning, at which time the defendant will present his case.”
Another bang of the gavel and the bailiff rose to escort the jurors out of the courtroom. Everyone else stood up too. The judge disappeared into her chambers, Westerly threw Brunelle a quizzical glance, and the gallery began their own mumbled conversations. Kat stepped up and took Brunelle’s hand again.
“Thank you,” she said.
But Brunelle just shook his head. “You’ve got some explaining to do, young lady.”
Chapter 37
“She wasn’t in the main studio,” Kat explained over dinner at the steak restaurant across the street from the courthouse. “She was in the back. In the dressing room.”
“So what?’ Brunelle asked. He took a drink of his beer. Lizzy just sipped from her Coke, her eyes shifting between her mom and her mom’s boyfriend.
“So that would also explain why her lungs weren’t blackened,” Kat replied. “I bet there was a lot less smoke damage in the back.”
Brunelle shrugged. “Maybe. I’ll have to check the reports to see where the fire allegedly started. But I don’t see why that matters so much.”
Kat set her wine glass down a little too hard. “Because Tuttle said she was dead before the fire was set based on her perfectly pink lungs. This is an alternate explanation.”
“Again, so what?” Brunelle demanded. “She’s still dead. And I don’t think Jeremy dumped her body there after the fire was raging.”
Kat’s eyes flared and she leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. Lizzy took a long, loud slurp through her straw.
“Jeremy didn’t dump her body anywhere, David,” Kat growled. “He didn’t kill her, remember? Or did you forget that?”
Brunelle narrowed his eyes. “I didn’t forget anything. I can’t forget something I don’t know. I have no idea if he killed her.”
Kat’s arms dropped. “You think he killed her?”
Lizzy looked at him too, but not accusingly. More like desperately.
“I didn’t say that,” Brunelle insisted. “I said I don’t know. I wasn’t there. And he’s been lying to me since I first introduced myself. So, no, I don’t know if he did. Maybe he did. But I don’t really care either. It’s not about whether he killed her, it’s about whether the State can prove it beyond a reasonable doubt. My job is to keep them from doing that.”
Kat frowned but didn’t immediately reply. Lizzy kept her eyes glued on him. He saw it out of the corner of his eyes, but kept his gaze locked on Kat.
“And my job is a lot easier if I can cross examine the witnesses against him,” Brunelle went on. “Especially the goddamn medical examiner who conducted the autopsy.”
Kat narrowed her own eyes and leaned forward onto the table. “Well, I’m sorry Mr. Lawyer-man. But quite honestly, you don’t seem to be doing that great a job. Everybody thinks Jeremy did it—including you, apparently—and you haven’t done anything to change that.”
He slapped his hand on the table. “And I did even less when I only asked the medical examiner one fucking question.”
Brunelle’s slip in dropping an F-bomb succeeded in jarring the adults’ attention to the teenager in their company. It wasn’t as if Lizzy had never said it herself, they knew, but still. Poor form.
“Uh, guys,” Lizzy said as they both looked at her. “Can you, like, stop arguing? It’s not gonna help dad any.”
Brunelle set his jaw, but didn’t say anything. Kat hesitated, then exhaled loudly and took Lizzy’s hand. “You’re right, honey. I’m sorry. We’re just trying to help your dad.”
Brunelle nodded. ‘Right. I’m sorry too.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “And I don’t really think he did it. That was just the lawyer in me talking. The reg
ular person in me knows he’s innocent.”
Lizzy looked to each of the adults in turn and then lowered her eyes. “I wish I knew that.”
Kat squeezed her daughter’s hand. “What do you mean, honey? Of course daddy’s innocent.”
Lizzy just shrugged.
“He is innocent, Lizzy” Brunelle insisted. “And the jury will see that. They’ll find him not guilty.”
Lizzy looked up at him. “How? You didn’t get to ask the questions you wanted.” She looked to her mom. “And you said he wasn’t doing a very good job.”
“He is doing a good job,” Kat insisted. “I was just frustrated.”
“Me too,” Brunelle said. “Trials are stressful. I was just frustrated.”
Kat looked down for a moment, then up at Brunelle. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told you not to ask any other questions. You’re the lawyer.”
Brunelle shook his head. “And you’re the—“ He was about to say ‘wife’ but stopped himself. Not because she was really the ex-wife. But because of what else she was. “You’re the medical examiner.” He smiled. “You’re the fucking medical examiner.”
Another F-bomb, but it seemed okay because he was smiling. Genuinely smiling.
Lizzy giggled at the word. Kat giggled too, but more of a nervous titter. “Yeah. And?”
Brunelle smiled broadly and raised his glass. “And you’re going to testify.”
Chapter 38
The next morning, the guards brought Jeremy to court, the bailiff led the jurors into the jury box, and the judge looked down at Brunelle.
“The defense may call its first witness.”
Brunelle stood up, steeled for the battle he was about to incite.
“The defense calls Dr. Kat Anderson.”
Kat stood up. But so did Westerly.
“Objection!” Westerly practically shouted as he jumped to his feet and slapped the table. It was the first time he’d lost his composure. He quickly regained it. “I believe,” he said evenly, “we should discuss this outside the presence of the jury.”
Brunelle could hardly disagree. He nodded to the judge. In turn, she nodded to her bailiff. In a few moments, he was closing the door to the jury room behind them. Once they were safely out of earshot, everyone but Westerly sat down.
“Your Honor,” he began, with that calm confidence prosecutors have when they expect to win yet another motion or trial, “I was given no notice of this witness. In addition, she’s a medical examiner, but I’ve been given no resume or expert reports to review. Furthermore, she’s sat through the entire trial, in violation of the court’s original—and standard—order that witnesses be excluded from the courtroom so they don’t hear the testimony of other witnesses. Finally, Dr. Anderson is the ex-wife of the defendant, which, well, I’m not sure exactly how that impacts all this, but it must somehow. The People object to her being called as a witness, and move the court to exclude her testimony for the reasons I’ve just stated.”
Brunelle expected to be asked why he’d violated the court order excluding witnesses and why he hadn’t given notice to the prosecution and what he expected Kat to say.
Instead, Judge Carlisle looked past the lawyers to Kat. “Are you the defendant’s ex-wife?”
Kat stepped forward. “Yes, Your Honor.”
Carlisle nodded for a moment then tipped her head toward Lizzy. “Who’s that?”
“Our daughter, Your Honor,” Kat replied. “Elizabeth.”
Lizzy nodded to the judge, then offered the slightest wave. Unprofessional, but endearing. Judge Carlisle narrowed her owlish eyes and glared at Brunelle.
“I expect Dr. Anderson will testify as to her opinions of Dr. Tuttle’s autopsy,” the judge half-asked.
“Yes, Your Honor,” Brunelle confirmed.
“And you will disclose to the jury the personal interest she has in the outcome of the trial as the defendant’s ex-wife and mother of his child?”
“Yes, Your Honor.” Brunelle suppressed a smile at his growing hope that Kat would be allowed testify.
Westerly suppressed his growing frustration. Carlisle looked to him. “Would you like an opportunity to interview the witness before she testifies?”
The question revealed her decision as to the underlying issue of whether Kat would be allowed to testify. The only issue left was whether they’d take a break while Westerly grilled Kat in the hallway.
But he was too experienced a prosecutor to need to do that. Or to keep fighting a battle he knew he’d lost. “No, Your Honor. Thank you, but I believe I know what the witness will testify to.”
Carlisle allowed a small smile at Westerly’s professionalism and the resultant lack of delay. She nodded to the bailiff who rose to bring in the jurors again. A few moments later Kat Anderson, M.D., was sworn in as the defense’s first witness.
“Please state your name for the record,” Brunelle began. This time he took the same spot Westerly had held for his direct exams—right next to the last juror in the jury box.
“Kat Anderson,” she told the jurors. She knew to talk to them, not Brunelle.
“How are you employed, Miss Anderson?” Brunelle tried not to smile at the ‘Miss Anderson.’ He had to admit it was better than ‘Miss. Anderson-Stephenson.’ He ignored the other possible hyphenated-name. He needed to focus on the task at hand.
“I’m an assistant medical examiner with the King County Medical Examiner’s Office in Seattle, Washington.”
“So you’re a medical doctor?”
Kat nodded. “Yes, you have to be an M.D. to work as a medical examiner.”
Kat then listed off her degrees, residencies, and qualifications. At least as impressive as Dr. Tuttle. There was just one problem.
“Do you know the defendant?” Brunelle knew he had to ask.
The jurors likely expected an obligatory ‘No’ to confirm the witness’ independence. Surprise.
“Yes,” Kat looked over to Jeremy. “He’s my ex-husband.”
That sent a twitter through both the jury room and the gallery, including one reporter who jerked his head up, then dashed out into the hallway, undoubtedly to call an editor or something.
Brunelle had figured there were two ways to handle this little issue. Either have Kat explain her findings, win the jury over with her knowledge and charm, then mention the whole ‘the defendant is my ex-husband’ thing at the end, hoping the jury would overlook it after having decided she was credible on the merits. But he thought it was just as likely that they would throw out her entire testimony at that point, and feel tricked to boot. No, he decided; the better route was to admit the bias up front, then use that knowledge and charm of hers to win them over anyway.
“Do you have any children in common?” Just in case being married to him wasn’t enough to destroy her credibility.
“Yes,” Kat admitted. She smiled at Lizzy. “We have one daughter, Elizabeth. She’s sitting in the front row.”
Brunelle exhaled. Okay, that was done. And maybe for the better. Usually, the attorneys couldn’t identify the friends and family who came to support the defendants or victims. It was left to the jury to speculate. Now they knew Jeremy had a real, flesh-and-blood daughter who loved him enough to come to court every single day. Keep that in mind, ladies and gentlemen, as you consider your verdict.
Now to the important stuff. “Did you have an opportunity,” Brunelle asked, “to review the reports prepared by Dr. Sylvia Tuttle in this case?”
Kat returned her attention to the jurors. “Yes, I did. I was also present during a pretrial interview where she discussed her findings.”
Brunelle had to smile. She was good. That interview was going to be important.
“And do you have an opinion as to the reliability of Dr. Tuttle’s findings?”
Kat shrugged slightly. “I don’t disagree with what she found. I disagree with the conclusions she drew from those findings. An autopsy is an autopsy. The physical evidence on and in the body doesn’t change. But
it has its limits. I don’t believe Dr. Tuttle can reliably make the claims she testified to as to the exact manner in which Vanessa died.”
Brunelle stole a glance at the jury. They seemed interested, if perhaps a bit dubious. Here was the ex-wife saying the county medical examiner was wrong. Not surprising. There were several pairs of crossed arms and at least one incredulous eyebrow. But they were interested too. Several were leaning forward, and all of them were looking at her.
“What specifically do you disagree with?” Brunelle asked.
Kat looked to the jurors. “Medical examiners deal in facts. We examine human remains—whether full bodies, parts of bodies, or skeletons—and try to determine what forces were applied to the body to cause injury and death. I was trained and strongly believe that the medical examiner’s job stops at the examining room door. I can never tell you exactly what happened when a person died. I wasn’t there. I can tell you a bullet went through the victim’s lung, but I can’t tell you who shot it or why. That’s for the cops, not the docs,”
That was a nice touch. Brunelle noticed a few jurors smile at the cops/docs comment. Good. They liked her.
He took a moment to look at her, sitting on the witness stand, all confident and smart. He liked her too.
“So what was it in Dr. Tuttle’s conclusions that went beyond what you might have been willing to conclude?”
Kat nodded then turned back to the jury. “I reviewed the reports, including all the photographs. There is no dispute that Vanessa’s lungs were perfectly pink inside. From that, it is reasonable to conclude that she didn’t inhale any smoke prior to her death. What’s not reasonable is to speculate as to why that might be. Dr. Tuttle extrapolated from a medical observation to a conclusion better left to law enforcement.”
“But if she was found inside a burned out building,” Brunelle challenged, “but never breathed in any smoke, isn’t it fair to conclude that she was dead before the fire started?”
“Maybe,” Kat admitted with a shrug. “But maybe not. She was found in a back room, but the fire was mainly in the large dance area. There may be other reasons why she didn’t breathe in the smoke. For example, fire and smoke rise. If she was on the floor…”
A Prosecutor for the Defense (David Brunelle Legal Thriller Series Book 4) Page 16
