Judge Brady was incredulous. “I must admit I am very troubled by the turn of events this morning. Don’t you have copies in your office?”
Dr. Cooper’s answer was vague, and after some back and forth, he suggested the materials could be at his home in Austin.
“Are you married?” the judge inquired.
“Yes.”
“Then have your wife FedEx them to court,” Brady suggested.
“Um. My wife is out of town,” the expert replied.
“Do you have pets?”
“Yes, dogs.”
“Who is feeding the dogs?” the judge asked.
“Um…I don’t know.”
“I don’t believe you and order you to have the letters faxed to the court by Monday.”
It was then that Paul Sequeira lost his temper. The prosecutor, who for weeks had tried to keep his composure, rose to his feet and launched a formal complaint, saying that through all of Susan’s continued attacks and outbursts, he had done his best to remain in control. “But this latest shenanigan is unacceptable,” he remarked. “How is this happening? This is outrageous! The witness is going back and forth on the existence of these letters. Not only that, but he’s testifying way outside the area of his expertise. He’s creating verbal crime scene reenactments for the jury.”
While Sequeira was criticizing Susan and her witness, Susan attacked Brady’s ruling regarding the papers. In Susan’s opinion, she should not have to provide the prosecutor with the disputed papers if he did not explicitly ask for them beforehand. In addition, she also disputed the judge’s assertion that the laws of reciprocal discovery covered the materials, arguing, incorrectly, that discovery “is a relatively new concept and still being developed.” Susan claimed that Dr. Cooper’s testimony “was completely independent, unbiased, and neutral, and she attacked the prosecutor, calling him a ‘cry baby.’
“He doesn’t like Dr. Cooper’s testimony, so he does a little dance in front of the media and says I’m in violation of discovery,” Susan quarreled.
“I want you to listen to me, Mrs. Polk,” Judge Brady intervened. “If you make any more insults, I will sanction you.”
Despite the threat, it was not immediately clear what the judge had in mind. The situation embodied the paradox that the judge faced throughout the trial: Susan was already in custody, so what other punishment could Brady hand down? It was a difficult situation for Brady, but it was becoming increasingly clear that Susan needed to be reigned in. Susan’s respect for the court had been far from exemplary, but now her witnesses were giving testimony that seemed dangerously close to perjury, conduct that could produce serious consequences for Susan.
Monday morning, Judge Brady made an announcement. Out of the presence of jurors, she informed the court that Susan’s expert witness had “skipped out” on the trial. “He is indicating not only is he not going to return, but he will be unavailable by telephone for this week and he will be traveling,” Brady said, referring to a three-page e-mail she received from Cooper over the weekend.
“In all my years that I’ve been doing this, I have never heard of anything like this before,” she added. “I’ve never had an expert witness take on the role of an advocate and then indicate he has chosen not to come back—that is just not an option.”
Like Judge Brady, Sequeira also expressed his shock after reading the letter that day. “I’ve never seen an expert run off like a scared rabbit before he is cross-examined.”
Cooper cited “the hostile behavior of the prosecuting attorney” as a key reason for his decision to withdraw from the case. “It was regrettable that I was unable to fulfill my designated role in the case during the week I had set aside for it,” he wrote in the letter that was made public later that afternoon. Dr. Cooper told Judge Brady that it was a “pleasure” to appear in her courtroom and assured her that his grievances were not “in any way intended to reflect unfavorably upon the Court…. I hold Mr. Sequeira completely responsible for last week’s debacle. Perhaps he has forgotten that justice isn’t always about winning.”
Cooper charged the prosecutor with crafting a “dramatic smokescreen about some discovery issues that have no bearing on the physical evidence and certainly have nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that an innocent woman is being held on false charges.” He also expressed “outrage” at the county medical examiner, Brian Peterson, accusing him of “irresponsible, unprofessional, and to my way of thinking, immoral conduct.
“Allow me to review the facts as I see them: Susan Polk is on trial for murder because Dr. Brian Peterson…saw fit to present a distortion of the autopsy evidence to the Coroner, to the District Attorney’s office, to the Grand Jury, and ultimately to the trier of fact in a murder trial.” Dr. Cooper wrote. “Not only has Mrs. Polk been indicted on false pretenses, but she has also suffered from protracted false imprisonment and estrangement from her sons as a result of Dr. Peterson’s false representations.
“I see this man to be nothing more than a public menace,” Cooper said of Peterson.
Meanwhile, Judge Brady informed jurors that morning that a “scheduling issue” had arisen, and the court would hear from Dr. Cooper at a later date. Court officials had reached the runaway pathologist by phone and, after advising him of his obligation to come back to court to finish his cross-examination, set a date of May 16 for his return.
In the meantime, Susan called her first hostile defense witness, Gabe’s foster mother, Marjorie Briner. She believed that Briner and her husband, Dan, had “brainwashed” Gabe into testifying against her. Now, she was anxious to paint the middle-school teacher as a member of a money-hungry conspiracy out to rob the Polk estate.
“I have not gained a single cent from your estate,” Briner insisted during a testy exchange. She also balked at Susan’s claim that she had turned Susan’s children against her by labeling Susan as “crazy and delusional.”
“From the very beginning, Dan and I tried to stay as neutral as possible,” Briner replied. “I tried never to use those words. Because those were words that made you very upset.”
Polk and Briner repeatedly interrupted one another, prompting the court reporter to insist they halt the cross-talk so she could transcribe all of their remarks.
“Mrs. Briner, have you ever heard of Pinocchio?” Susan asked.
Briner insisted that she had “nothing to gain” by testifying against her.
“Nothing?” Susan was incredulous. “Didn’t I put you on notice that I was going to sue you for fraud?”
Smiling, Briner acknowledged that fraud was among the threats Susan had made over the months.
“And wouldn’t a guilty verdict get you off the hook?”
During the heated examination, Susan accused Briner of perjury, in response to the schoolteacher’s claim that Susan had been verbally abusive during phone calls and in letters she sent from jail. Furious, Susan commanded Briner to sift through two mountainous stacks of letters that sat before her on the wood railing and point out an instance of “verbal abuse.”
“We haven’t even come close to the area of inquiry I’ve allowed,” Judge Brady admonished. “Move on, this is not relevant.”
“I object,” Susan shot back. “Perjury is always relevant.”
Week three of Susan’s presentation also included testimony from a former colleague of the slain therapist and a former patient who had participated in his group therapy sessions with Susan thirty years earlier. While their brief time on the stand bolstered Susan’s portrayal of Felix as a controlling husband, her monotonous questioning diluted the effectiveness of their testimony.
Psychotherapist Karen Saeger, a former colleague of Dr. Polk’s at the California Graduate School of Professional Psychology, testified to “two Felixes.” “One was tightly coiled like he could spring at you; the other was charming and charismatic,” she said. Saeger claimed that Polk had a “widespread reputation” at the college for his “taboo” relationship with his patient/wife.
Afterward, Kathy Lucia told jurors of Susan’s dependence on Felix during their group therapy sessions at his Berkeley office in the early 1970s. “He was trying to control you, I felt,” Lucia said in response to Susan’s questions.
Unlike her mother or Eli, Saeger and Lucia were two seemingly objective witnesses, who supported Susan’s claims concerning inappropriate treatment that she had suffered in Felix’s hands—especially during her young, vulnerable years. Indeed, it was on this issue that Susan should have pressed harder. At times, it appeared that she failed to realize the chord of sympathy that she could have struck with the jury had she focused on Felix’s emotional manipulation of her at a young age. Regardless of his alleged abuse, he had clearly violated professional and ethical standards in his treatment of Susan, and this behavior left his character open to question. Unfortunately, Susan found it difficult to exploit this weakness, as her evidence about Felix’s behavior often became muddled in her confused accusations of abuse and conspiracy.
By Thursday, the jury had still heard very little testimony relevant to the murder charge when Susan recalled her son Eli to the stand to refute Marjorie Briner’s testimony.
“Is she a liar?” Eli responded to his mother’s inquiry. “That’s just an understatement of her character. She is disgusting, what she’s done.”
Week four got underway with Susan’s list of witnesses interrupted once again by testimony from her “runaway” forensic pathologist, John Cooper. Dr. Cooper returned to court on May 16, and delivered portions of his case file to Judge Brady. After a review of the documents, Brady turned over in excess of fifty pages of documents to the prosecution, holding back portions she ruled to be Susan’s “work product.” Among the materials was a letter Susan sent to Dr. Cooper from jail that detailed her version of the events of October 13, 2002, and was accompanied by a rough sketch. Excerpts of that letter were read aloud in court and released to the public later that day.
Sequeira’s cross-examination of Dr. Cooper focused on the witness’s prior courtroom conduct and his contradictory conclusions regarding the County’s autopsy report. The nondescript carpet muffled the clicking of his cowboy boots as he strode to the witness box that Monday as courtroom spectators poked fun at the Hawaiian shirt beneath his dark suit and tie.
Dr. Cooper was again defiant as he faced off with the prosecutor that morning, repeating his conviction that the murder charges against Susan Polk were “false.” He told jurors that an “injustice” was being carried out in Contra Costa County and he could no longer remain a neutral witness.
“You haven’t sat here and heard all the evidence,” Sequeira rebuked. “You don’t know if she’s being held on false charges.”
“I see that the autopsy evidence exonerates her.” Dr. Cooper reiterated that while the stab wounds Felix sustained were a “contributing factor,” he died as a result of a heart attack suffered during his “aggressive” and “angry” attack on Susan. “I believe it is sound logic to say if he weren’t involved in an altercation, he wouldn’t have died,” Cooper said.
Dr. Cooper contended that Susan’s account of the murder, as depicted in letters she sent him, was “honest” and an “excellent fit” with the autopsy report depicting Felix’s injuries. “My assessment is that she is a reliable eyewitness.”
“Are you aware that Susan believes she is a medium?” Sequeira asked, striding around the courtroom.
“My understanding is that she’s got considerable psychic ability and there’s no reason to doubt that,” Dr. Cooper replied matter-of-factly. “Maybe you don’t believe in psychic ability.”
“Really? So you believe she’s psychic?”
“I have no reason to doubt it.”
Though the questions seemed tangential to the witness’s expertise, Sequeira’s strategy was clear. Dr. Cooper’s strange conduct during his first appearance had already tainted his credibility, and now Sequeira was attempting to sully his scientific reputation further by showing his belief in psychics. It was a clever line of questioning as this placed the doctor in something of a catch-22. On one hand, Cooper could not disagree with Susan’s claims that she was a medium, since such a statement could make it seem as though other elements of her story were suspect. On the other hand, by saying that he believed in her abilities, Cooper inadvertently cast doubt on his own scientific credentials. The doctor emerged from the ordeal looking less and less like a man whose medical word could be trusted.
Sequeira next asked him about Susan’s assertion that her former attorney, Daniel Horowitz, had a role in his wife’s murder.
“I object!” Susan said with a grin. “I never exactly said that. Although, I do think that maybe it’s so.”
On redirect examination, Susan got down on the floor to reenact the events of October 13, 2002. As she lay prone on the courtroom floor demonstrating her position during the attack, she asked Dr. Cooper, “If I were able to kick him in the groin and disarm him, it would be consistent with the fact that I don’t have stab wounds?”
Yes, the pathologist affirmed.
Sequeira was dubious. Walking to the overhead projector, he flashed photos of Felix’s bloodied body and of the deep, swollen defensive wound on his right hand. He then contrasted the images with photos of Susan’s injuries; a red bruise encircling her right eye and supposed bite marks on her hands. “Somehow she got the knife away without sustaining one nick or cut on her whole body?”
“Yes,” Dr. Cooper replied.
Over two days of heated cross-examination, Cooper maintained that Susan’s lack of bruising did not trouble him, and in fact, was consistent with the crime scene.
“I object,” Susan said at one point during the question. “I did have injuries, they were relatively light compared to my husband. My crime is that I survived.”
“The odds were definitely against her,” Dr. Cooper added. “It’s unbelievable that a woman that size would attack a full-grown man—the chances of her survival are minuscule.”
“Yes, it’s, and I’m using your words, it is unbelievable, isn’t it?” Sequeira grinned.
“I would say miraculous. It’s not unbelievable, because it happened,” Dr. Cooper maintained.
Chapter Twenty-eight
SUSAN’S SOLILOQUY
On Wednesday, May 17, Susan called her most compelling witness to the stand.
“Mrs. Polk, your next witness?” Brady directed.
The gallery brimmed with journalists and trial watchers looking on in complete silence as Susan announced with a nervous giggle, “Yes, I’m going to testify, so the defense calls myself.”
Raising her right hand, Susan swore to tell the “whole truth.”
Over the prosecutor’s objections, Judge Brady ruled that Susan’s testimony would be a straight narrative; a Q & A with both questions and answers coming from Susan would be too confusing.
“This is not carte blanche,” the judge warned Susan before inviting jurors into the courtroom to begin hearing the testimony. “This is not an opportunity for a speech. This is a privilege, not a right. You may not like it, but the reality is now that the defendant—you—do not dictate how we proceed in this courtroom.”
“I object,” Susan said, telling Brady that it was her legal right as a pro per defendant to voice objections. “It may appear impertinent or argumentative or unruly to some members of the audience, but it’s not. This is not a playground. This is a battle for truth. This is not a movie. This is not a script.”
Jurors filed in that morning to find Susan outfitted in prison issue greens and seated in the witness box. “I’m not going to go into every detail,” she assured them. “Everyone wants to get on with their lives.”
Despite this disclaimer, Susan began her testimony with a two-hour slide show depicting her life. She narrated the show herself, with the help of on-again, off-again case assistant, Valerie Harris, on the overheard projector. Throughout the slide show, Susan’s demeanor seesawed between weepy and mournful to thoughtful and co
ntemplative as she identified photos of herself as a young girl, as a twenty-five-year-old bride, and as wife and mother, posing with her husband, children, and the family dogs. She broke into sobs when an image of her son, Adam, popped up on the screen.
“I think he said what he said to survive, and that’s what he had to do,” Susan told jurors of the twenty-three-year-old who called her “evil” on the stand. “I think you saw a different Adam. The real Adam, the one I knew, sent me poems [in jail], came to see me, and was extraordinarily loving.”
Jurors were riveted by Susan’s narrative, which she delivered in a soft, folksy manner, her hands folded in her lap, along with a copy of her diary marked with yellow Post-Its. Throughout her testimony, she would refer to the diary that documented the actions of her husband and others who had come out against her.
As she spoke, Sequeira sat quietly in his seat, listening to her testify for much of the morning without voicing a single objection. Instead, he allowed Susan to talk about her relationship with Felix and her realization at the age of forty that she wanted out of the marriage. The twelve-member panel had already heard much of what Susan would testify to through other witnesses and in her opening statement. Still, she insisted the jury needed to hear “her story.”
Susan said the onset of Felix’s alleged abuse came soon after they were married, and she retold for jurors her story of premarital doubts about their relationship, saying that she later felt “ashamed” of her decision to marry “my therapist.” Despite her reservations and subsequent abuse, she never spoke up because she “thought telling someone would precipitate getting me killed…. I kept thinking I could fix it. His refrain was that nobody would ever believe me if I told them anything.”
Susan told jurors the first time she left Felix was in March 2001. He had a restraining order against her so she rented a room at the Claremont Hotel. She compared the experience to “recovering from an accident.” The peace and quiet was broken only by repeated calls from Felix. Susan held up a photo she took while at the hotel, showing the bruise she allegedly received on her wrist during an argument with him. Later that month, at her then-attorney’s request, Susan documented the alleged spousal abuse she suffered from October 2000 to March 2001 in an attempt to secure a restraining order against her husband. She recited the five incidents for the panel, contending that Felix had slapped, punched, and abused her, once tossing a drink in her face.
Final Analysis Page 32
