Cactus Island, A Stan Turner Mystery Vol 8

by William Manchee

CHAPTER 35

  CAMPFIRE TALES

   

  Calling Peter as a witness was a low blow and I couldn't understand why Carla Simms would resort to something so cold. Could Peter know something important about the case that he hadn't told me? I couldn't imagine it. When I got back to my motel room, I called Rebekah to warn her Peter was about to be subpoenaed, but it was too late. The constable had already been there.

  "Peter has school tomorrow. He can't go to Palo Pinto."

  "He has to, honey. He's been served with a subpoena."

  "But he doesn't know anything." Rebekah complained. "This is so ridiculous."

  "I know. It's just trial strategy. She's trying to piss me off so I'll lose my focus."

  "That's not right. You can't let her get away with this."

  "We won't, but Peter will have to show up just in case. The problem will be in getting him here. I can't really afford the five or six hours it will take to come get him."

  Rebekah sighed. "I'll have my father bring him. Do you have room for them at the motel?"

  "I'll have to make room. There aren't any other accommodations in town."

  "Don't let that bitch be mean to my boy," Rebekah said. "I'll never forgive you if Peter is traumatized by all this."

  "Don't worry. He's a tough kid. He can handle it."

  Peter was a tough kid—he had to be with two older brothers. He was very independent and had a mind of his own which had made raising him a challenge. His counselor said the problem was that his IQ was through the roof and he saw the world differently than the average student. He wasn't satisfied with just living and having fun like most teenagers. He wanted to understand the world and how everything fit together. Despite his high intelligence and inquisitive mind, he was still a teenager who spent countless hours playing video games and watching football on TV. The difference between Peter and his friends, however, was that Peter had actually designed and built his own video game and could explain to you the intricacies of the NFL compensation system. But above all, he was a good kid with a kind heart who'd go out of his way to help out a friend or even a stranger, if he thought it was the right thing to do.

  After Rebekah had hung up, I started to review my trial outline and work on my opening statement. By now the jury knew the facts of the case pretty well and I didn't want to bore them with a bunch of redundant testimony. I planned to pick up where Carla Simms had left off. The main difference between Simms' case and mine was the interpretation of what had happened the afternoon of September 10, 1990. I didn't have a big quarrel with what the witnesses had said so far, but I needed to show the jury that the facts weren't what they seemed.

  By the time Peter arrived with his grandfather, it was nearly midnight. I asked him what he knew about the love triangle between Steven, Susan, and Jimmy. He claimed to know nothing about it. That puzzled me because I couldn't imagine Carla Simms calling him up to the stand without a long list of questions to ask. But it was too late to worry about that now. After getting a cot from the housekeeping staff for my father-in-law, we all turned in for the night.

  The next morning at breakfast, Paula advised me that through her research she hadn't found any definitive law on the subject of calling a relative of defense counsel as a witness. It was apparently totally within the discretion of the trial judge. The controlling issue was whether or not the witness had some direct knowledge of facts material to the case. I felt better at hearing this because I couldn't imagine that Peter had any such knowledge. When Paula pointed this out to the judge before he brought in the jury and the trial recommenced, Carla Simms protested.

  "Your Honor. If you will indulge me, I can assure you Peter Turner does have some very relevant testimony to give in this case."

  "Very well," Judge Applegate said. "Let's hear it, and it better be relevant." He turned to the bailiff. "Bring in the jury."

  Simms didn't flinch at the judge's admonition. Instead, as soon as the jurors were seated, she turned and said, "The state calls Peter Turner."

  The gallery buzzed as Peter walked briskly up to the witness stand. The judge banged his gavel demanding order while Carla Simms glanced over at me, a smug smile on her face. The judge told Peter to raise his right hand and then swore him in. Carla Simms stood and began her direct examination.

  "Peter, I know this is kind of weird, calling you as a witness in a trial in which your father is defense counsel, but you know something that could be very important in determining whether Steven Caldwell is guilty or innocent."

  "I do?"

  "Yes. I believe so. I understand you're in Roger Dickens' scout troop?"

  "That’s right."

  "And Steven Caldwell is your junior assistant scoutmaster?"

  "Un huh."

  "So, were you friends with Jimmy Falk?"

  "I guess. We knew each other."

  "Were you aware that Jimmy Falk was dating Susan Weber?"

  "Not back then. I heard about it later."

  "Were you at Camp Comfort the night of Jimmy's death?"

  "Yes."

  "Were you in the mess hall when Steven Caldwell asked Jimmy to go to town with him?"

  "Well, he didn't ask him. He asked for volunteers and Jimmy said he'd go."

  "Did you hear any strange noises on that day?"

  Peter grimaced. "Strange noises?"

  "Right, any sounds out of the ordinary?"

  He thought a moment."Yeah, there was an oil well being drilled across the road. It was very noisy."

  "Anything else?"

  "Oh, yes. Earlier that day I heard a banging noise coming from the parking lot."

  "Really? Did you find out what it was?"

  "Not exactly. I went to check it out, but it stopped before I got there."

  "So, you don't know what made the banging noise?"

  "No, Ma'am."

  "What kind of sound was it—wood on wood, metal on metal?"

  "It sounded like metal on metal."

  "Did you see anyone in the parking lot when you got there?"

  "Yes. Steven was getting out of the Jeep."

  "Did you see what he was doing in the Jeep?"

  "No."

  "Was he carrying anything when you saw him?"

  "He had his tool box."

  "Could the sound have been Steven banging on the seatbelt in the Jeep?"

  "Objection!" Paula said. "Counsel is leading the witness."

  "Sustained," Judge Applegate replied.

  "Do you have any idea what Steven was banging on?"

  "Objection!" Paula said. "Assumes facts not in evidence. Your Honor, Ms. Simms is deliberately misstating prior testimony. Peter said he didn't know where the sound came from."

  "Sustained."

  "Did you talk to Steven when you saw him?"

  "Yes. I told him I'd heard someone banging on something and wondered what was going on."

  "What was his response?"

  "He just shrugged and said he hadn't heard anything."

  "So, what did you do then?"

  "Nothing. I just followed him to the mess hall."

  "Pass the witness."

  Paula rose. "Peter. Do you know where the banging sound came from?"

  "No."

  "Do you know who was making the sound?"

  "No."

  "Did you tell Ms. Simms you didn't know anything about this case?"

  "No. I've never talked to Ms. Simms."

  Paula looked over at Carla Simms incredulously. "Peter, who did you tell about hearing the banging noise?"

  "I think I told one of the sheriff's men a long time ago."

  Paula shook her head angrily. "Your Honor, I move that Ms. Simms be sanctioned for dragging Peter Turner out of school and all the way from Dallas when he had no material information to provide this court."

  "Your Honor!" Simms screamed. "This is outrageous and clearly calculated to prejudice the jury—"

  Judge Applegate stood up. "In chambers, now!"

  The judge stormed o
ut, leaving a courtroom full of stunned spectators. In chambers the judge chastised Simms for calling Peter as a witness and Paula for her oral motion for sanctions. He warned them both that any further breaches of proper courtroom behavior would be dealt with harshly. He asked Paula if she was sure she wanted to press her motion for sanctions. Paula said no, she'd withdraw it. He asked Simms if she had any more witnesses. She indicated she did not. He said when we got back in the courtroom he'd take any motions before the defense put on their case.

  Back in the courtroom and before the jury was brought in Paula stood. "The defense moves for a directed verdict, Your Honor," Paula said. "The prosecution has rested without meeting their burden of proof as to each of the elements of murder as set forth in section 19.02 of the Penal Code."

  "Motion denied," the judge said. "We're going to let the jury decide this one."

  With that we were dismissed with instructions to be ready to proceed with the defendant's case in thirty minutes. During the recess I talked to Peter to be sure he was okay. He said he was. I was about to send him and his grandfather back to Dallas when I got an interesting idea. I asked him if he'd like to tell the jury a campfire tale. He said he would.

  The trial resumed and Judge Applegate told me to present my case. I stood up to give my opening statement. "Ladies and gentlemen of the jury. You haven't heard much from me or my partner, Paula Waters, during the course of this trial. That is because the prosecution gets to put on their case first. This custom, in part, is followed because the prosecution has the burden of proof in a criminal trial. That is, they must prove beyond any reasonable doubt that the defendant is guilty of the offense for which he is charged. In this case they must prove beyond any reasonable doubt that Steven Caldwell knowingly or intentionally caused the death of Jimmy Falk. What Paula and I will show over the next few days is that the prosecution has failed to meet their burden and that there is reasonable doubt as to whether Steven Caldwell is guilty of murder.

  "We will be calling a number of witnesses to show reasonable doubt, but before we do that let's consider the facts that have been established thus far. First, we know that Steven Caldwell and Jimmy Falk both dated Susan Weber. That's no big secret. We know that Steven was upset, as any jilted lover would be, when Jimmy started dating Susan. We can't deny that. The big question, however, is whether these events caused Steven Caldwell to concoct a complex and risky plot to kill Jimmy Falk. We think not.

  "What we will show in the next few days is clear evidence that Steven Caldwell is a decent, gentle, and a moral person who would never even consider taking the life of another human being. We will show that death of Jimmy Falk on September 10, 1990 was the result of a string of tragic events over which Steven Caldwell had little or no control. Specifically, we will show that Steven and Jimmy were returning from an amicable shopping trip into town. The weather was bad as a line of thunderstorms was moving through the area. There were strong winds, lightning, thunder and heavy rain. Steven admitted to the police that he was trying to impress Jimmy and was probably traveling too fast. When he rounded the bend just before the entrance to Camp Comfort he was distracted, took his eyes off the road for a split second, and lost control over the Jeep. When he realized the Jeep was going off the cliff, he screamed to Jimmy to jump as he was preparing to do himself. Unfortunately, Jimmy's seatbelt jammed and he was unable to escape.

  "As you know, Steven jumped to safety while Jimmy fell with the Jeep to his death. If we convince you that these are the facts of this case, then you must find Steven Caldwell not guilty because he wouldn't have intentionally or knowingly caused the death of Jimmy Falk. Even if we don't convince you 100 percent you still could not find Steven Caldwell guilty of murder if there was any reasonable doubt as to whether he intentionally or knowingly caused the death of Jimmy Falk.

  "Now I know some of you might have already made up your minds in this case, but I want to remind you that you have a duty to listen to all the evidence before you make a decision. So, please keep your minds open. Listen carefully to the remaining witnesses, consider the rest of the evidence that I will be introducing, and then, and only then, consider all the evidence that has been presented to you in its entirety. Thank you."

  Judge Applegate said, "You may call your first witness."

  "The defense calls Peter Turner," I said.

  The judge frowned. Carla Simms looked at me like I was a drunken lunatic. "Your Honor, Peter Turner was just on the stand."

  "Yes," I said. "Now that he's testified for the prosecution I'd like him to testify for the defense."

  "Your Honor," Simms pressed. "This witness is not on the defense's witness list."

  "Since he's here, Your Honor, and already sworn in, we've decided to call him as a defense witness. He has valuable information that the jury needs to hear. I don't see how the prosecution can complain since they subpoenaed him."

  The judge raised his eyebrows and tilted his head thoughtfully. Finally he said, "You've opened the door to Mr. Turner testifying, Ms. Simms. I'm going to have to allow it."

  Simms shook her head in dismay and sat. I looked over at Peter and nodded. He got up and made his way to the witness stand once again. He looked up at the judge and smiled. The courtroom was as quiet as the library on Christmas Day. I began.

  "Peter, how many years have you been going to Camp Comfort for camping trips?"

  "This was my fourth trip."

  "And were Steven Caldwell and Jimmy Falk with you each of these times?"

  "Yes, they were."

  "Now, what do you do at night on these camp outs?"

  "At night there's always a campfire."

  "What do you do at these campfires?"

  "Well, we sing, have contests, tell jokes, give out awards and tell stories."

  "What kind of stories are told at these campfires?"

  "Ghost stories, stories about cowboys and Indians, and stories about Cactus Island."

  "Who tells these stories?"

  "Our scoutmaster and sometimes the scouts themselves."

  "Have you ever told a story at one of these campfires?"

  "Yes."

  "Which one?"

  "Last camp out I told the story about the alien landings at Cactus Island."

  "How do you know that story?"

  "Someone tells it at every campfire. I heard it the first year I went to camp. It's kind of a tradition."

  "Could you tell the story to the judge and the jury?"

  "Objection!" Simms yelled. "Your Honor. This is totally irrelevant, prejudicial, and a waste the court's valuable time."

  I replied, "Your Honor. I beg to differ. Steven Caldwell's state of mind is an issue in this trial. If he heard this story four or five times, it could go a long way in explaining his behavior on the day of Jimmy's death."

  The judge smiled. "Actually, I would like to hear the story, and I think everyone in the courtroom would like to hear it as well. Am I right?"

  The gallery responded with screams of approval and applause. Peter started to laugh. Simms glared at the judge who finally picked up his gavel and banged it a few times. "All right. Let's get on with it."

  "Go ahead, Peter," I said. "Tell us the story of the landings on Cactus Island."