But Holcomb and Heiser did have a history together, and not all of it had been pleasant. Heiser had not supported Holcomb’s bid for judge; he had, in fact, asked her not to enter the race. “He was upset about that, and I was surprised by how much that carried over during his tenure as district attorney,” Judge Holcomb said.
The trial was difficult enough, given the trauma surrounding the murder of a three-year-old. Heiser’s actions were disconcerting.
“Heiser added an extra layer of difficulty to a trial that was already difficult enough in terms of severity of emotions,” Holcomb said. “It wasn’t about the judge, or the lawyers. It was about Karly’s murder.”
Her goal as judge was to conduct the trial fairly and without prejudice.
“My rulings were meant to avoid a successful appeal later, so we didn’t run the risk of trying the case all over again,” Judge Holcomb said. “I believe I conducted myself with the highest degree of judicial integrity and I believe justice was served.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Nearly two weeks of trial testimony passed before ten-year-old Kate Field climbed into the witness box to testify against her father. She turned her shoulders so she was facing the jurors, not the defense table and the man sitting behind it: her daddy.
Kate’s wide grin and expressive eyes were shrouded by her dark hair and an even darker mood. It’s hard for a girl to testify against her father. It doesn’t matter whether what he’s done is right or wrong; what matters is that what you say may send your father to prison. Kate understood that above all else.
In those early days following Karly’s death, Detective Stauder had interviewed Kate. Elisabeth Castillo from The Department of Human Services Child Welfare was there, along with Kate’s mom, Eileen Field. Eileen had not yet told her young daughter that Karly was dead or that Shawn had been arrested.
“Can you remember what happened the last two days that you were in school last week, when you were at home?” Eileen Field had prompted her daughter.
Kate didn’t answer.
“Can you tell me about what your dad told you about Karly’s black eye or her red eye?” asked Detective Stauder.
Again, no answer.
“Are you scared? Do you want to write it down?” Eileen Field asked. Kate asked her mom what she wanted her to say.
“Just say what’s true, okay? What you saw and heard.”
Then Kate asked about Karly.
“Oh, Kate, I have to tell you something, okay? Karly got hurt and she’s in heaven now. Do you know what that means?”
“She got hurt and she went to heaven?” Kate repeated, questioning.
“When people are in heaven, will you see them anymore at home?” Detective Stauder asked.
“No,” Kate said.
Detective Stauder left the room, leaving Eileen to question Kate.
“If you can remember, you need to tell us what you saw and what you heard those days,” Eileen said.
“Ask me a question,” Kate replied. “Not a hard one.”
“Tell me what happened when you got home on Thursday after school.”
“My dad had told me that Karly had a bruised eye,” Kate said. “He showed me Karly’s bruised eye. She didn’t look good.”
When Detective Stauder came back to the room, she remarked that Kate looked worried.
“I’m not worried,” Kate said.
“Do you know what jail is?” Detective Stauder asked.
“Yeah,” Kate said. “It’s where people go when they’re bad.”
“Or when they get in trouble,” Detective Stauder said.
“For doing what?” Kate asked.
“Well, we have laws, and sometimes people break laws, and when
they break laws they have to go to jail. And I need to tell you right now,
your daddy’s in jail. He’s in jail for hurting Karly, and I want you to
know you can’t be hurt at all, that you’re safe.”
Kate misunderstood.
“Is Karly’s dad really in jail?” Kate asked.
“No,” said Detective Stauder. “Your dad is in jail.”
“Why?” Kate asked.
“He’s in jail for hurting Karly,” Detective Stauder said. “I want you to know you are safe here and that whatever you tell us, you’re not going to get in trouble from us or your dad for telling what you saw or what you heard Thursday when you came home from school and Friday when you went to school.
“Is my dad really in jail?” Kate asked.
“He really is in jail. I would never lie to you about that,” Stauder answered.
Kate began crying.
Joan Demarest had urged Judge Holcomb to make some exceptions for Kate in the courtroom. She requested that Kate be allowed to testify by closed-circuit TV, or that Kate be allowed to come into the courtroom incognito, with a mask or a wig, and sunglasses. Kate was understandably scared about testifying. In typical girlhood fashion, she wanted a disguise. Demarest promised Kate she would ask the judge for permission. “I was trying to keep Kate comfortable and keep a promise I made to her,” Demarest said. But defense attorneys argued that allowing Kate to wear such a get-up would make a mockery of the court.
The judge denied both of Demarest’s requests. Kate had to face her father in court. The law left Judge Holcomb little other choice. It used to be that a video-taped interview of a child victim could be introduced in court instead of live testimony in a courtroom. This was particularly helpful in cases that involved sex abuse. But in 2004, the U.S. Supreme Court, in Crawford v. Washington, overturned a previous 1980 ruling that allowed hearsay evidence if a judge ruled such evidence was reliable and trustworthy.
The Crawford ruling bars states from using statements against a criminal defendant unless the person making the allegations is available to testify at trial. No hearsay evidence is allowed, even if the judge considers it reliable. The Crawford ruling, which wasn’t drafted with child abuses cases in mind, is a terrible blow to those who work on behalf of abused children.
In California, a man previously convicted of several child sexual abuse charges involving two sisters, ages four and eight, had those charges dropped on appeal once Crawford was put into effect. It was ruled that the videotaped testimony of the oldest girl was inadmissible because it violated the Confrontation Clause of the Sixth Amendment.
So Kate was compelled to denounce her father publicly. The appearance of a child being sworn in and grilled by attorneys was wrenching for everyone present. The prosecutor was sensitive to that.
“Do you know the people sitting in that box?” Demarest began.
“No,” Kate replied softly. She faced the jurors, eight men and four women. Her dark hair fell forward, giving her some privacy. In her hands, she held two stuffed bunnies.
“They are called the jury,” Demarest said. “They are here today to hear what you have to tell them.”
“Okay.”
“Do you know who that is, sitting in the black robe?”
“Judge?”
“Yes. That’s right. She’s the boss of things here,” Demarest replied. “Karly…”
Oops!
Demarest made a mistake, referring to Kate as Karly. She quickly corrected her error, but it’s one that would be repeated. It was unsettling, hearing Karly’s name called out like that, as if Karly were playing a game of hide-and-seek with the jurors.
After moving through a litany of pedestrian questions about pets and teachers, Demarest asked Kate how she was feeling.
“A little nervous,” Kate admitted.
Demarest attempted to ease the girl’s anxiety by asking questions Kate could answer without fear. What day of the week was it? What month was it? The sort of questions you’d expect a doctor to ask when determining if your child has a concussion. Then Demarest asked Kate if she understood the seriousness of the trial.
“When we ask you questions today, do you promise to tell the truth no matter what?”
“Yes,
” Kate said.
“Have you and I talked before?”
“Yes.”
“Have we been in the room before?” Demarest asked.
“Yes,” Kate said.
“What did we do?”
“I talked on this microphone.”
“Did you sit in the judge’s chair?”
“Yes.”
“Did you try to get me to sing in the microphone?”
“Yes.”
“Do you remember when you used to go to Hoover school?”
“Yes.”
“Where did you live?” Demarest asked.
“On Aspen Street,” Kate replied.
“Who lived there with you?”
“My dad.”
“Did anyone else live there?”
“Um,” Kate hesitated. “Uh…”
There was a long silence.
“Did you have any people who came and visited?” The attorney
restated her question.
“Yes. Sarah and Karly.”
“What was Karly like?” Demarest asked. It was the first mention of the slain girl.
“She was…she was adorable,” Kate said.
David Sheehan looked at Kate. The little girl’s answer was so frank, so guileless, so accurate, and so very brave. Whatever else anyone had been thinking up until that moment, everyone in the courtroom knew Kate had loved Karly the way big sisters do.
“Do you remember how old she was?” Demarest continued.
“Yes. Three.”
“What did she look like?”
“She had blonde hair. Blue eyes.”
“What did you do with her?”
“We played sometimes.”
“What sort of things did you play?”
“Sometimes when she came over, um, I think we played with the cat. Um, I don’t really remember,” Kate said.
This stumbling over specifics continued throughout Kate’s testimony. That was particularly true whenever Demarest asked Kate a question that involved her father.
“How did you feel about having Karly around?”
“Happy,” Kate replied.
“How did your dad act when Sarah Sheehan was around?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Do you remember if he acted the same or differently?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Did you ever see Karly throw up when she was staying with you?”
“I don’t really remember.”
“Did Karly spend the night?” Demarest skirted the interrogation away from Kate’s father.
“Yes.”
“Where would she sleep?”
“On the bottom bunk.”
“What about when there wasn’t a mattress there?” Demarest asked.
“I don’t remember.”
Demarest warned Kate she was going to ask her some questions about the week Karly died. Kate began to cry quietly. Several of the jurors looked over at Shawn. Up until Kate’s emotional testimony, the trial had moved along at an excruciatingly tedious pace.
The prosecutor had started the trial on Monday, October 2, 2006, by questioning 911 Dispatcher Andy Thompson. The 911 tape was played for the jury. The day ended with testimony from Sergeant Evan Fieman, who had performed CPR and tried to save Karly. Fieman, who knew Sarah socially, was distressed that he failed to bring Karly back to life. He felt like he’d let Sarah down.
Scheduling conflicts put the testimony on hold until the following Monday, October 9, 2006. Demarest called for testimony from Detective Harvey, along with the nurses and EMTs who had responded to the emergency that day. Demarest had painstakingly questioned these witnesses: what was Karly wearing that day, who cut off her pants, who placed them in the paper sack, who verified they’d been placed into the paper sack, on and on.
One juror, a man in his seventies, was having a difficult time staying awake. Once, he nodded off so soundly the pen and pad slipped from his hand. Out of earshot of the jury, but before the judge, the attorneys discussed whether he ought to be replaced.
But on that day, ironically, Friday, October 13, 2006, as Kate sat sniffling in the witness chair, jurors noticed that Shawn Field looked visibly pained for the first time. They could see the worry on his face, the anxiety furrowing his brow. Shawn Field had forgotten about himself. He was honed in on his weeping daughter. He was clearly distressed that Kate had been put on the stand to testify against him.
“Do you remember the morning, the last time you saw Karly?” Demarest asked.
“Yes.” Several jurors shifted in their seats, uncomfortable with the interrogation of such a young girl.
“Do you remember what kind of mood your dad was in that morning?”
“Yes.”
“What kind of mood was that?”
“He seemed mad.”
“Do you know why he was mad?”
“Yes. Because I had…he told me to finish my homework ‘cause, well.” Kate was having a difficult time fighting back the tears and talking. “Because it was almost time for me to go to school and I had to finish it.”
“How could you tell he was mad?” Demarest continued.
“Um. Because he yelled.”
“What did he yell?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Did he yell any bad words?”
“Probably a couple.”
“Do you remember what they were?”
“No.”
“Are you afraid to say bad words in front of people?”
“Yes.”
“Would you be more comfortable writing them down?”
“No. I just know there were a couple of bad words but I don’t remember what they were.”
Some jurors were ready to cuss out Joan Demarest at this point.
They could not figure out why the prosecutor insisted upon haranguing
the poor child. What difference did it make what bad words were said?
They got it—Shawn had been in a bad mood that morning. She’d made
her point.
“How did they make you feel?” Demarest was relentless.
“Bad.”
“Who was your dad yelling at?”
“Me.”
Like children will often do, Kate took the blame upon herself. If only she had gotten her homework done, maybe her dad wouldn’t have been in such a bad mood.
Kate told the court that when Karly got up that morning she had a bruise on her eye. She’d had the bruise the day before. Kate said she’d first seen the bruise when she got home from school on Thursday, and it worried her because it was a bad bruise.
“Did your dad say anything about the bruise?” Demarest asked.
“Yes, but I forgot what he said,” Kate answered.
“Did he tell you about the bruise before you saw it?”
“Yes.”
Kate was careful about her answers. She always stopped short of pointing the finger at her dad. When Demarest asked how Karly was acting that afternoon, Kate replied she’d forgotten.
“Did Karly seem happy or sad, excited or tired?” Demarest prodded the witness.
“She seemed…” Kate started, but stopped. She wept, then said she really couldn’t remember. But it was clear from the girl’s tears she likely was remembering it all too well.
“How was she acting or behaving? What was her mood?” Demarest wasn’t about to let up.
“I think she asked me if she could sit down,” Kate replied.
Kate said she couldn’t remember if they played that night or not. She didn’t remember having dinner, talking with her dad, or doing her homework. She only remembered what happened at bedtime.
“What do you remember about that?”
“I said goodnight to her when she had the bruise. My dad was holding her. I was on the top bunk. I hugged her.”
“Did Karly go to bed too?”
“No. I don’t remember what she did.”
Clutching a stuffed animal, she testified through tears that s
he’d heard slapping sounds coming from the kitchen the night before Karly was killed. She did not get out of bed to check on Karly.
“What happened after you went to bed?”
“I heard some noises.”
“What kind of noises?”
“Banging noises, kind of.”
“What did they sound like?”
“Um,” Kate paused, and tugged at the stuffed animal in her hands. “Kind of like, I can’t really sound it, but I know what it sounded like.”
“Have you described those sounds before?” Demarest asked. She knew, of course, that Kate had told the forensic interviewer at the ABC (All Because of Children) House exactly what those sounds had been like.
“Yes.”
“Did you use anything to describe those sounds before?”
“Yes.” Kate was a defense attorney’s star witness, expertly parsing her answers.
“What did you use?” Demarest was a patient prosecutor who had practiced for this moment.
“A spoon,” Kate replied.
“Like a big plastic spoon?”
“I think it was plastic. I don’t know,” Kate replied honestly.
“Did you hear any voices?”
“Yes.”
“What were those voices doing?”
“Well, they were,” Kate said. She paused and thought through the question carefully. “What do you mean?”
“Were they talking, yelling, crying, anything like that?” Demarest seemed annoyed that Kate had come back at her with a question. Did she fault the child for trying to protect her father?
“Uh. Karly, she said mmmm,” Kate replied, mimicking a quiet, moaning sound. “I think that was the sound.”
“Did you hear your dad’s voice?”
“I don’t remember.”
“What did you do with the spoon to make the sound?”
“Can you repeat the question?” Kate was stalling.
“Can you tell us what you did with the spoon to make the sound?”
“I hit it,” Kate said. “It’s hard to explain.”
“Would it be helpful if you had a spoon to show the jury?” Demarest asked.
KARLY SHEEHAN: True Crime behind Karly's Law Page 19
