by Randy Singer
He walked past Jamarcus Webb, seated in the front row, without so much as acknowledging the man. Quinn felt bad that he wouldn't get to spend a few minutes with Catherine before court started. He hoped she wouldn't read anything into it.
Marc Boland had dressed down for the occasion, trading in the suits he had worn the first three days for a sports coat and khaki pants, apparently trying to pull off the common-man look. Quinn had taken the opposite approach today, dressing like the big-shot Vegas lawyer the jury expected him to be--a thousand-dollar suit, cuff links, and a monogrammed shirt. If only he'd found time for a haircut, he might actually look presentable.
Quinn took his seat at counsel table and reviewed some notes while Marc Boland chatted with Jamarcus Webb as if they were fraternity brothers rather than enemy combatants in a court of law. They talked baseball and swapped stories about their kids. Quinn would never talk to a witness before he cross-examined him on the stand. It was hard to intimidate somebody who knew your favorite baseball team.
"All rise," the bailiff called out. Judge Rosencrance took the bench, and a deputy escorted Catherine into the courtroom. "Sorry I got here late," Quinn whispered.
"No problem," Catherine whispered back. "Can you come by after court today?"
"Sure."
A few minutes later, Detective Webb took his place on the witness stand, and Marc Boland changed from the nice guy next door into a legal pit bull.
"You mentioned in your direct testimony that you were a confidential informant for Ms. O'Rourke, who at the time was a reporter for the Tidewater Times. True?"
"Yes."
"And in that capacity, you would pass along information about certain investigations, right?"
"Information that I thought the public might need to know. I never compromised the integrity of any investigations."
Marc Boland looked surprised. "Oh, then I take it you must have cleared this information with your superiors to make sure they didn't believe it would compromise the investigations."
"No. I used my own judgment."
"And lied to your superiors about it, correct?"
Jamarcus Webb hesitated, looking indignant. "I didn't lie. I just didn't discuss it with them."
"Is that so?" Boland reached down to his counsel table and grabbed some notes. "Isn't it true that you leaked to the press the fact that the Carver kidnappings and the Milburn kidnapping were related?"
"I thought the public had a right to know."
"And when Catherine O'Rourke's article containing that information ran in the paper, she was subpoenaed before a grand jury and asked who her source was. Is that correct?"
"I wasn't in the grand jury hearing," Webb countered. "But I believe that's true."
"You weren't in the grand jury hearing, but you were present in court when Catherine was cited with contempt for refusing to identify her source. And rather than come clean and put yourself in jeopardy, you just let Catherine go to jail."
Webb took a drink of water, his discomfort showing. "We both knew that was the deal from the start. We would even joke about it. I would ask Catherine about various forms of interrogation and whether--"
"Maybe you didn't understand the question," Boland interrupted, taking a step toward Webb. "Rather than voluntarily coming forward and putting yourself at risk, you let Catherine go to jail. Isn't that correct?"
Webb cast a glance at Gates, perhaps hoping for an objection. "Yes, that's correct."
Boland let the answer hang for a minute. "And this is the lady you called--" he checked his notes--"a 'personal friend' yesterday. Is this the way you treat all your friends?"
"Objection!"
"I'll withdraw it, Your Honor," Boland said calmly. He turned a condescending tone on Webb. "Are you really asking this jury to believe that, at the same time Mr. Gates was prosecuting Catherine O'Rourke and sending her to jail for not revealing her source, you and others in the department were never even asked if you might be that source?"
"No, that's not what I'm saying. We were all asked."
"Then let me repeat my earlier question," said Marc Boland firmly. "Isn't it true that you lied to your superiors about being a source for the newspaper?"
Jamarcus hesitated. "Yes. I told them I was not the source."
"Now we're making progress," said Boland.
Gates leaped to his feet but the judge spoke first. "That comment will be struck from the record. Mr. Boland, you know better."
"Sorry, Judge."
As Boland launched into another line of questioning, Quinn's thoughts turned to Catherine. She seemed better today. Even her posture was more confident--sitting forward in the chair, erect and attentive, taking notes like the reporter she was.
"You doing okay?" Quinn whispered.
"I hate this for Jamarcus," Catherine replied. "But I'm fine."
"Your friend," Quinn reminded her, "is trying to get you the needle."
"He's doing his job," Catherine replied, keeping her eyes on the witness.
Meanwhile, Marc Boland kept hammering away. "Did your extensive investigation reveal any connection between Ms. O'Rourke and Mr. Donaldson?"
"Other than the fact that she stalked him and his girlfriend and murdered him?"
"You know what I mean," insisted Boland. "Was there any prior relationship between Mr. Donaldson and Ms. O'Rourke?"
"We didn't find any."
"Did you find any prior relationship between Ms. O'Rourke and Mr. Milburn?"
"No."
"Between Ms. O'Rourke and any of the Carvers?"
"No."
"Between Ms. O'Rourke and Rex Archibald?"
"No."
"So these victims are just arbitrary victims, as far as you could tell from your investigation?"
"That's not correct," said Webb. "The victims are all either alleged rapists who were found innocent or defense attorneys who represented rapists."
Boland pretended to think about this for a moment. "Then I guess you're suggesting that Ms. O'Rourke's motivation for these crimes was the fact that she was raped eight years ago, during college?"
"Possibly."
"Doesn't that seem a little strange to you, Detective Webb--perhaps even a little insane--that Ms. O'Rourke would choose to victimize four people she didn't even know instead of going after the one person who actually raped her eight years ago?"
"Objection," Gates called out. "Calls for speculation. Detective Webb is not proffered as a psychiatrist."
"Sustained."
Marc Boland did not look the least bit disappointed. He had made his point. And Quinn began to relax a little. Marc Boland could handle himself just fine.
84
For the next hour, it felt to Quinn like he was sitting in on Paul Donaldson's rape trial. Detective Webb admitted he had studied that case as part of his investigation into Donaldson's death. So Marc Boland, who had been working in the Richmond Commonwealth's Attorney's office at the time on other matters, walked the witness through the troubling details of that case step by painful step.
Sherri McNamara had met Paul Donaldson at a bar. According to her testimony, Donaldson followed her into the parking lot, forced her into his car, and raped her on an isolated stretch of road outside the city of Richmond. Donaldson had admitted to having sex but said it was consensual. Rex Archibald, Donaldson's attorney, had emphasized the absence of any evidence of struggle other than torn clothing. That could have been done by McNamara herself, Archibald had claimed. There was no skin under her fingernails, no scratches on Donaldson or bruises on McNamara.
"As an officer of the law, it must be frustrating to hear about a jury that falls for that kind of argument," Marc Boland suggested.
"It is."
"Does it ever make you want to take the law into your own hands--just once, Detective Webb, just to make sure that a guy like Paul Donaldson gets what's coming to him?"
"No," Jamarcus said firmly. "I believe in the system. It's not perfect, but vigilante justice is not the answe
r."
"Really. You believe in 'the system.'" Marc Boland took a few steps, thinking. "But the system needed a little help, and therefore you broke department guidelines by conveying confidential information to Ms. O'Rourke."
"That's different," Webb insisted. "Helping Ms. O'Rourke was just passing on important information to the public. That's not taking justice into my own hands."
"Fair enough," Boland said. "Then let me ask you this: did your investigation of the Avenger of Blood initially focus on law-enforcement types and religious fanatics?"
"Yes, of course."
"Can you tell the jury why?"
Grudgingly, Jamarcus looked at the jury. "Because two of the victims were accused rapists who were never convicted and because the messages from the Avenger contained references to Bible verses."
"Law-enforcement officers, men and women like yourself, Detective Webb, are the ones who tested the DNA evidence and searched the neighbor's trash cans for bloody paper towels and drugs and had access to all of the so-called scientific evidence; isn't that right?"
Predictably, this brought Boyd Gates to his feet. "I object, Your Honor. Detective Webb is not on trial here. The defendant has already admitted killing Paul Donaldson."
"I agree," said Judge Rosencrance. "Mr. Boland, am I missing something?"
"I apologize, Your Honor, and I'll withdraw that question. I do, however, have one final question. Detective Webb, can you enlighten us as to the significance of the Bible verses left by the Avenger?"
"Not really. I left that to the psychiatrists."
"Thank you, Detective Webb, that's all I have." With a satisfied look, Marc Boland turned, glanced at Boyd Gates, and took his seat.
85
After a recess, Dr. Edward Chow took the stand, and Catherine's emotional roller coaster took another plunge. The small man was precise, professional, and well credentialed. Catherine remembered trying hard to dislike him during her two sessions with the psychiatrist. His disarming manner did not make it easy. As he testified now, she could sense the jury bonding with him while they learned about the intricacies of dissociative identity disorder.
It was, Chow testified, hotly debated whether DID even existed as a psychological disorder. A substantial school of thought held that DID patients either faked their alternate personalities or simply responded to suggestive counseling from their psychiatrists. For the purposes of this case, the psychiatrist said, it didn't really matter. Because even if there was such a thing as DID, Catherine O'Rourke was clearly not suffering from it.
Chow repeated much of the theme of the prosecution's case--that the crime was too well planned and too carefully covered up for it to be the spontaneous work of an alternate personality--but he buttressed the theory by lending his own considerable authority to the argument and cloaking it in official-sounding words.
"Catherine O'Rourke evinced consciousness of guilt," Chow testified, "by throwing out her computer before the authorities could execute their search warrant. In addition, a schizoaffective disorder almost always has a precipitate cause that triggers the psychotic break or, in the case of DID, the manifestation of another personality. After meeting with the defendant for several hours and after reviewing all the known facts of this case, I can point to no precipitate cause that might have occurred just before the killing of Paul Donaldson or any of the other victims."
The only thing that stopped Chow from completely dismantling the defense's case on Thursday afternoon was the clock. When the judge banged her gavel to call it a day, Chow seemed genuinely disappointed. He was the only one in the courtroom still looking fresh, his charcoal gray suit hardly wrinkled. To Catherine it seemed like he had so much more to say, more nails he wanted to drive into the coffin.
* * *
The next morning, Chow wasted no time continuing the assault. He shifted gears to what he termed "the underlying cause of the alleged dissociative identities." In Chow's opinion, the "alleged rape" during college was insufficient to create a psychotic break that could lead to multiple personalities, especially personalities that didn't manifest themselves until eight years later. DID was almost always caused by chronic abuse during childhood, a time in life when personality integration was occurring and could be stunted. DID caused by a single rape during someone's early adult years, or even multiple episodes of rape in a single night, would be unprecedented.
Not surprisingly, Chow had a few opinions about Catherine's jailhouse behavior as well. Catherine had shown the aggressive side of her core personality when she bludgeoned her cellmate, an event that Chow accentuated with some show-and-tell pictures of Holly's face. Plus, Catherine had pretty much gone berserk when she saw Kenny Towns on television. "The defendant claims to remember both of those incidents," Chow testified. "So they certainly can't be blamed on this mythical 'Avenger of Blood.'"
Gates paused and made a big show of checking his notes. "One final question: based on your assessment of Ms. O'Rourke, your review of the evidence, and your training and background, do you have an opinion as to why she would kill a man she didn't even know?"
Catherine expected Quinn to object but her defender just nonchalantly scribbled some notes.
"I do. It's my opinion that this whole Avenger of Blood persona and the preying on alleged rapists and their attorneys was an elaborate attempt by Ms. O'Rourke to deflect blame so that she wouldn't be a suspect when she committed her ultimate crime."
"Her ultimate crime, doctor?"
"I believe that Ms. O'Rourke fully intended to kill Kenneth Towns."
86
Catherine found out why Quinn hadn't objected about two seconds into his cross-examination.
"Wow," he said, buttoning his suit coat. "Isn't that straying a little far from your field of expertise--making predictions about crimes that haven't yet occurred? You're not a fortune-teller, are you?"
"Objection."
"Sustained."
Quinn smiled. "To your knowledge, did the police find any evidence that my client even knew where Mr. Towns lived?"
"No."
"Any evidence that she had contacted him since college?"
"Not that I'm aware of."
"So your theory is that Catherine O'Rourke gets raped in college and then, eight years later, decides to kill her rapist but figures, 'Hey, before I even figure out where he lives I might as well kidnap a few babies and kill a few men I've never met first in order to deflect attention from me?'"
Gates stood, his face red. "Objection, Judge. That totally mischaracterizes the testimony."
"He can answer," Rosencrance ruled.
"When you don't deal with the kind of pain that Ms. O'Rourke suffered eight years ago, Mr. Newberg, it can cause you to do some pretty--" Chow hesitated as if searching for the right word--"desperate things."
"Is the word you were actually looking for more like bizarre or crazy?" Quinn asked.
"Objection."
"Sustained."
"Okay, let's switch gears. Were you aware that Detective Webb, acting as a confidential informant for the newspaper, told my client that Reverend Harold Pryor was a prime suspect and that he had no alibi?"
"I wasn't aware of that, no."
"Assuming that was the case," Quinn said, "does that affect your opinion on whether Ms. O'Rourke was just creating this 'mythical Avenger persona' to divert attention away from what you called her ultimate crime?"
Chow looked pensive, his brow knit. "No. I don't see why that would change anything."
In response, Quinn talked slowly, making sure Dr. Chow understood his point. "If Catherine O'Rourke knew she was the killer and wanted to deflect suspicions by inventing these visions, why didn't she provide a description of Reverend Pryor as the Avenger of Blood when she reported her visions to Detective Webb?"
Chow sat there for a moment, his brain apparently churning through different possibilities. "I'm not sure," he eventually admitted. "Perhaps she believed it would seem too obvious."
"Or perhaps,"
Quinn countered, "my client is telling the truth."
* * *
Quinn chipped away at Chow's opinion for several more hours on Friday, belittling the man's opinion that DID could not possibly have been caused by the rape that occurred during Catherine's college years. Quinn also suggested that the precipitating event Chow was supposedly searching for might have been Catherine's coverage of Anne Newberg's murder trial.
"Did it ever occur to you," Quinn asked, "that Catherine O'Rourke's extensive involvement with and coverage of that murder trial--where another woman took vengeance for years of abuse--might have triggered the manifestation of this alter personality in Catherine's life?"
Chow hesitated, but then answered confidently. "No, I don't believe that's the case."
"But you never even considered that possibility until this very moment, did you?" Quinn pressed.
"That's true," Chow admitted. "But that doesn't change my opinion."
"You've been paid too much to switch at the last minute; is that it?"
"Objection!" barked Gates. Then he mumbled loud enough for the jury to hear, "That's ridiculous."
"Sustained."
As Quinn battled with Chow, Catherine silently battled her own emotions. She still found it hard to believe this was her murder trial, her Vegas lawyer posturing and mocking and drawing objections left and right from the ever-serious Boyd Gates.
The emotion that surprised Catherine most, and the one she had the hardest time dismissing, was a growing attraction to the man who now commanded the courtroom. Catherine had always prided herself in being logical--a skeptical newspaper reporter who knew how to cut through appearances and smoke screens. And Quinn, she reminded herself, was a Las Vegas performer, a showman, a trial lawyer. He seemed to care deeply for her, but it was probably all just an act. Just a lawyer's way of bonding with a client.
