Brent Marks Legal Thriller Series: Box Set Two

by Kenneth Eade

  On cross-examination, Chernow chewed up Dr. Beverly’s testimony.

  “Dr. Beverly, you’ve testified that the defendant doesn’t fit the serial killer profile, but that doesn’t mean that he could not have committed these murders, does it?”

  “Well, it would be inconsistent with the profile.”

  “But you can’t say, with a degree of certainty, that there is no way that the defendant could have committed these murders, can you?”

  “No, I can’t.”

  “Thank you.” Chernow smiled at the jury confidently and took his seat.

  By the lunch break, Brent had still not heard from Jack, and all of his texts since the morning had gone unanswered.

  ***

  Brent ended the day with Dr. Jaime Orozco. Dr. Orozco had over 30 years’ experience as a pathologist and medical examiner. He had degrees in medicine and law and experience as the Chief Medical Examiner for the County of Los Angeles, and 10 years with the FBI. He was highly qualified to give a medical opinion.

  Orozco testified that he had tested Banks’ blood on the day he had turned himself in, and the test results had revealed abnormally high levels of PCP. However, none of the drug was found on his person.

  “PCP, or phencyclidine, is called 'angel dust' on the street. It is an extremely strong hallucinogen that can be smoked, insufflated, injected, or taken orally.”

  “Did you conduct a brief physical examination of Mr. Banks?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “And, as a result of your examination, were you able to form an opinion, to a reasonable degree of medical certainty, on how Mr. Banks had ingested the PCP?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Please tell the jury your opinion and its basis.”

  Dr. Orozco spoke to the jury as though he were speaking to a group of friends at his dinner table.

  “I found no track marks in the skin which would have revealed that the drug was injected. If smoked, PCP is usually used as a dip for a marijuana or tobacco cigarette, and there was no evidence of such in his blood work. There was no powder present in his nasal passages, so it was not likely that he insufflated it. It is my opinion that it was orally ingested.”

  “Is PCP often used as a date rape drug?”

  “Objection, lack of foundation.”

  “Overruled. Doctor, you may answer, if you have an opinion.”

  “Yes: because its effects can include anesthesia, it is often used as such. It is usually dissolved in a drink or food.”

  “Once administered, does it make the subject easier to manipulate?”

  “Oh, yes. Due to its anesthetic effect, the subject would have little or no control over his or her own body.”

  Chernow, on cross examination, took advantage of the other effects of PCP.

  “Doctor, isn’t it true that other effects of PCP besides the anesthetic effect include aggressive behavior?”

  “Occasionally, yes.”

  “And do they also include paranoia and depersonalization?”

  “Yes.”

  “What is depersonalization, doctor?”

  “It is the state of being detached from oneself, as if the world has become less real or lacking in significance.”

  He’s turning the doctor against us!

  “So if somebody in this state of mind did something, he or she may not be sure if it was really happening or if was just a fantasy or a dream?”

  “It is possible, yes.”

  “Thank you, doctor. No further questions, Your Honor.”

  “Mr. Marks?”

  “Thank you, Your Honor. Doctor, in the state in which you observed Mr. Banks on the night of your examination, in your opinion, was he capable of taking care of himself?”

  “No: he was hallucinating and lacked general physical coordination.”

  “Was he, in your opinion, physically capable of overpowering someone else?”

  “No, he was barely able to stand up.”

  “Thank you.”

  Still no word from Jack. After court, Brent whipped out his cell phone and called Jack. No answer. His previous texts, however, were showing that they had been received. What’s going on, Jack? Five minutes later, he received a reply: Still working on it, looks like a dead end. Brent texted back: Keep trying, we’re dead without it. See you in court tomorrow.

  CHAPTER FORTY TWO

  Brent called Detective David Maloney as his next witness, and Chernow blew a gasket.

  “Your Honor, I object to this witness on the grounds of relevance. Plus, he’s not on the initial witness list.”

  “Your Honor, may we approach?”

  Brent explained to the judge that he had just found out about Maloney during Chernow’s case-in-chief and summarized his agreement with Chernow for discovery on the stolen vehicle lead, and that Brent would be able to call investigators as witnesses as part of his case.

  “But this is a different case, Your Honor. Counsel is not playing fair here.”

  “On the contrary, Mr. Chernow, it seems to fall within the purview of your agreement. I’m going to allow this witness.”

  Brent and Chernow resumed their battle positions. Brent checked his text messages for anything from Jack. There was one that had come in about 8 a.m. that said, “Still working, will keep you posted.” Damn it, Jack! Brent had to turn his attention back to the case. As Charles Stinson always said: “No distractions, boy. When you’re in a trial, you eat, drink, sleep and shit only the case.”

  Detective Maloney was a young man in his 30s, dressed in the usual detective garb of white shirt, black tie, and grey slacks; and he had added a touch of his own: a grey sports jacket.

  “Detective Maloney, you are a California peace officer employed by the Santa Barbara County Sheriff’s Department: is that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “And how long have you been a detective?”

  “I’ve passed the exam about a year now.”

  “Congratulations, Detective.”

  “Thanks.” Maloney beamed, and his cheeks turned red.

  “Detective, to what detail are you assigned in the Sheriff’s Department?”

  “The stolen property detail.”

  “So when someone suffers a theft, they come to you for the police report to give to their insurance company: is that right?”

  “That’s one of our functions. We also investigate auto theft.”

  “I see. Now, that’s where you come in to this case. Did you investigate the theft of a large, heavy-duty tow truck that was reported stolen from J.C. Riley and Sons Towing in May of this year?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “How did you get assigned to this case?”

  “It was a cold lead, out of homicide.”

  “By cold lead, do you mean it’s something the homicide division was working on that was referred to you because they determined it wasn’t involved with one of their cases?”

  “Yes.”

  “Who assigned you this cold lead?”

  “Detective Tomassi.”

  Brent had Maloney identify the police reports on the stolen tow truck, and admitted them into evidence.

  “It says in these reports, Detective, that there was a suspect in this case.”

  “Objection, Your Honor. Irrelevant.”

  “Overruled. You may answer, Detective.”

  “Yes: Dusty Clairborne, an employee of the tow yard.”

  “Did you interview Mr. Clairborne?”

  “No.”

  “Was he ever arrested?”

  “No.”

  “I’m showing you now defense exhibit G, which are Dusty Clairborne’s personnel records subpoenaed from the custodian of records of J.C. Riley and Sons. Calling your attention to page 2, paragraph 3: does the description of six foot six inches and 230 pounds match the description of the suspect in your police reports?”

  Maloney flipped through the reports.

  “Yes, it does.”

  “Now, Detective, I’m going to p
lay the surveillance video from the discovery package I received from Mr. Chernow. Please call your attention to the overhead screen.”

  Brent played the surveillance video.

  “Detective Maloney, did you do any investigation to determine the identity of the person in this video?”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because when we blew up the video, there was no visible face. We had nothing to go on but the video. It could have been anybody. There were no latent prints inside the truck when we recovered it.”

  “So you closed the case?”

  “Yes, we closed it as unsolved.”

  Chernow couldn’t do much on cross-examination, so his questions were limited.

  “Mr. Marks, please call your next witness.”

  “Thank you, Your Honor. I call Dr. Michael Kensington.”

  Dr. Kensington took his seat in the witness stand and made eye contact with the jury while listening to Brent’s questioning.

  “Dr. Kensington, can you please summarize your background and experience?”

  “Certainly. I hold a Bachelor of Science from Columbia University, a Masters in Science from Stanford and a PhD. in Computer Science from Yale University. I have published several papers on digital video analysis, optical flow estimation, and human shape and motion analysis.”

  Dr. Kensington testified as an expert of human shape reconstruction from two-dimensional images. He disclosed that he had been hired by the defense team at a rate of $450 per hour for his reports and $650 per hour for his testimony.

  “Your Honor, I object to this witness on the grounds of unfair surprise.”

  “Counsel, please approach.”

  Brent and Chernow went to the bench for a conference outside the hearing range of the jury.

  “Mr. Marks, do you have an offer of proof?”

  “Yes, Your Honor, I do. Mr. Chernow provided me with an updated discovery package which included the surveillance video of the tow yard last week, during his case-in-chief. We’ve talked about this before, Your Honor. In order to actually do something with this evidence, I had to hire an expert to estimate the height and weight of the figure in the video who is thought to be the person who stole the tow truck. It was extremely difficult to find an expert who could do the analysis and be available to testify on such short notice.”

  “Your Honor, I have not been provided with a copy of this expert’s report or qualifications in a timely manner.”

  “Your Honor, with all due respect, that is not true. As soon as we were able to identify the expert, we updated our witness list and provided Mr. Chernow with a copy of the witness’s C.V. We didn’t have the report until this morning, and I gave a copy of it to Mr. Chernow as soon as I received it myself.”

  “Mr. Chernow, I’m going to allow the expert to testify. If the prosecution had been more forthcoming with the discovery, it would not be in the pickle that it’s in now. However, I will give you time, if you wish, to review the report and attempt to obtain your own expert. You can call your expert as part of your rebuttal.”

  Chernow pouted like a small child who had been refused an ice cream cone, but he had to respond with ‘Thank You, Your Honor.’

  “Thank You, Your Honor.”

  “We will take our afternoon break now, a little early, so that you can coordinate with your office.”

  CHAPTER FORTY THREE

  Where the hell are you, Jack? Brent furiously texted on his iPhone. Then he called Angela.

  “Hey, Angie.”

  “Hi, Brent. How’s the trial going?”

  “It’s going. I’ve just lost track of Jack.”

  “Is he still in the field?”

  “Yeah, but he knows I need him in court today.”

  “I’m sure he’ll be there. Has he checked in at all?”

  “He’s been texting.”

  “I’m sure he has a good reason for not being there yet.”

  “I hope so.”

  “You want to meet for lunch? I can be there in five minutes.”

  “No, thanks. I’m going to work through lunch.”

  Brent called Jack at least six times during the break. His last message registered as “received,” but Jack had still not texted back. Finally, just as he was headed back to court, Brent received a response: Still working a lead. Your going to be happy.

  Strange. Jack knows how to spell ‘you’re’. Must be his spell checker gone cuckoo. No time to think about it now. Have to get back inside.

  Dr. Kensington resumed his place in the witness chair, and Brent approached him.

  “Dr. Kensington, were you able estimate the size and weight of the man in the surveillance video, Defense Exhibit H?”

  “Yes, I was.”

  “Can you tell the jury how you determined this estimate?”

  Kensington turned his view to the jury and explained carefully.

  “In this case, we were lucky to have a known background in the video. I was able to visit the tow yard, calculate the distance of the video camera from the background, and take measurements of the background for scale purposes. This allowed me to make an extraction of an accurate foreground silhouette of the figure in the video.”

  “Can you show the jury how you did this, Doctor?”

  “Of course. Can you please project the image of my laptop screen?”

  The Bailiff flipped a switch and the screen next to the witness box was illuminated.

  “As you can see here, the measurements of the background were input into this three-dimensional model, which I constructed from the video imagery. That, including the distance that I calculated from the camera to the background, gave me an accurate scale of size.

  “I then estimated the shape and size of the body represented by the image, using information from the image such as joint position and size to scale, which allowed me to create this three-dimensional figure of the subject in this model.”

  “Were you able to form an opinion of the sex, height and weight of the individual depicted in the video, within a reasonable degree of scientific certainty?”

  “Yes. I was able to do so with an accuracy factor of 97%.”

  “What is your opinion, Doctor?”

  “It is my opinion that the subject depicted by the image in the video is a male, with an approximate height of six feet six inches, and an approximate weight of 235 pounds.”

  “So, your opinion essentially matches the description of Detective Salas of her attacker.”

  “Objection, argumentative.”

  “Sustained. Mr. Marks, it’s about five minutes to five. How much longer do you figure you have on direct?”

  “I’m actually done, Your Honor.”

  “In that case, court will recess now, for the day, and Mr. Chernow can cross examine Dr. Kensington first thing tomorrow morning.”

  CHAPTER FORTY FOUR

  Brent headed straight for Jack’s place after court. Jack’s car was not there. He found his spare key under a flower pot on the back porch and let himself in. He looked around. There was no sign that Jack had been there that day or the night before. It looked like he had left his home on vacation or something. He logged on to Jack’s laptop computer, and activated the “find your iPhone” feature. Jack’s iPhone was still at Sage Ranch Park. He must still be following Clairborne.

  Jack was on the move. Since Brent couldn’t reach him, he decided to just go to him. He noted the GPS coordinates of the iPhone, programmed them into his own iPhone and set off to find Jack. Brent stopped by his house and took the precaution of dressing in his hiking gear and stocked a backpack with some water and snacks and the Beretta that he had bought for protection when Joshua Banks had threatened him years ago.

  Brent crept up Black Canyon Road until he found Jack’s car, but the GPS coordinates for it were different than the ones from his iPhone. He must be on foot. He felt the hood of the car. It was cold. Not been moved for a while. Jack’s was not the only car there. There was also an
old AMC Pacer. Jack said Clairborne was driving a Pacer. Brent had always hated the way they looked. Thankfully, there were so few of them on the road now, he figured that this one had to belong to Clairborne. He parked his car away from the others, got out of it, and got his backpack out of the trunk. As Brent started to follow the GPS coordinates down the hiking trail, he had a thought. Flat tires are always a pain in the butt. Always slowing you down. Brent realized for a moment that he should have some kind of backup, so he phoned Angela.

  “You’re doing what?”

  “Well, Angie, everyone - including you - thinks that this is a wild goose chase, but I have a feeling that Jack may be in trouble. That’s why I’m calling.”

  “Stay there. I’ll call Tomassi and we’ll arrange a search party.”

  “I think I’d better just call 9-1-1 once I’ve located Jack. I just wanted to keep you posted.”

  “Brent, be careful. Don’t do anything foolish.”

  I can’t promise that.

  “Bye, Angie.”

  Brent disconnected and, using his pocketknife, let the air out of Clairborne’s right front tire until it was nice and flat. Then he followed the coordinates down the hiking trail. Suddenly, right in front of him, was a large rattlesnake, slinking through the sandy trail. Brent stopped quickly, so as not to step on it, and carefully walked around it.

  Finally, after about an hour of hiking, the coordinates led him off the hiking trail. Brent followed them, carefully blazing his own trail in the brush and looking for snakes as he went along. The GPS coordinates pointed him to a deep ravine. There was no sign of Jack anywhere. Brent crawled down to the bottom. Again, no sign of Jack. Wait! There’s a phone! Brent reached down to pick up a dusty and damaged iPhone. It’s Jack’s!

  The sun would be setting in the next two hours, and after that, it would be impossible to find Jack. Brent figured his best bet would be to get back on the makeshift trail and wait there. Clairborne is still out there. I wonder if he has Jack.