CHAPTER 49
LIES
Over breakfast I explained to Stan my impressions about the jury panel. Stan indicated he was going to take my jury suggestions seriously this time, although I wasn't convinced of that after Palo Pinto. As I drove up to the courthouse, I noticed several more media trucks than had been there the day before. I guessed the arrest of one of the kidnappers had sparked a little interest in the case.
I quickly checked my makeup in the visor mirror and noticed black circles under my eyes. "Damn!" I moaned. I took a minute to dab on some makeup to cover the dark circles and then got out of my car and headed for the garage elevator. As I came out of the underground parking garage into the basement of the courthouse, a group of reporters rushed over.
"Ms. Waters," the first one said. "Will the arrest yesterday have any impact on your defense of Cheryl Windsor?"
"It might," I said. "But I can't really comment on it now."
Another reporter asked, "Was the bank robbery of North American National Bank last night related in some way to this case?"
I didn't want to step into that mud hole. "I don't know. What bank robbery?"
Luckily the elevator door opened allowing me to escape the reporters. I took a deep breath and tried to relax. What if I'd told them the truth? Talk about a media frenzy. The elevator opened and I stepped into the packed corridor outside the courtroom and nearly collided with Rob Wilkerson.
"What's the hurry, darling?" he asked. "As I recall, you're just a spectator today."
I glared at him. "Yeah, well . . . lucky for you."
He laughed. "Well, actually I am kinda disappointed. I was looking forward to burying your cute little ass."
I noticed Jodie approaching. "Good morning," Jodie said.
Wilkerson nodded at Jodie. "Excuse me ladies. I've got an opening statement to give," he said and walked away.
"What was that all about?" Jodie asked.
"Oh, Wilkerson was just gloating over the fact that I wouldn't be trying the case."
"What an asshole."
"Tell me about it."
We made our way into the courtroom. It was already filled to capacity. Stan and Cheryl were seated at the counsel table talking, so we went over and joined them. Cheryl looked stunning in a red crepe suit with gold buttons and tan sandals. I wondered why Martin Windsor had abandoned her. In addition to being gorgeous, she seemed to be a devoted mother and a pleasant person to be around.
"I like your outfit, Cheryl," I said. "The men on the jury won't be able to keep their eyes off of you."
"Thanks," she said.
I took my seat next to Stan and started to unpack my briefcase. Stan was studying the jury list one last time and making notations by some of the names on the list.
"All rise," the bailiff yelled.
The judge took the bench and had the bailiff collect our jury lists with our strikes. A few minutes later the bailiff started calling off the juror's names who'd been selected and they took their seats. After the judge had given the jurors their instructions, he told Wilkerson to read the indictment and give his opening statement.
Wilkerson stood and faced the jury. "Your Honor, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, before you today is the defendant, Cheryl Windsor. Mrs. Windsor married Martin Windsor in 1982 and together they had three young children, Matt, Tony, and Kim. They lived together in a north Dallas home until in the spring of 1990 when they became estranged on account of an affair Mr. Windsor was having with another woman. Mrs. Windsor filed for divorce in early September claiming adultery and mental cruelty.
"Now we will show that Cheryl Windsor was not your typical betrayed housewife. When she found out about the affair she went to a shop specializing in electronic surveillance equipment and bought everything under the sun. She then surreptitiously placed the equipment throughout their home, hoping to catch Mr. Windsor in the act. You see, there was a lot at stake here. We will show that Martin Windsor has business interests around the world worth millions of dollars. Mrs. Windsor wanted those assets for herself, so she set out to find the evidence she needed to prove her husband's adultery and to find out where his assets were located.
"We don't know what was going through her mind, but we can surmise that she wasn't finding the kind of evidence she needed to warrant the court awarding her the lion's share of the community estate, so she came up with another plan—an ingenious one that only an intelligent and cunning woman could pull off. Ladies and gentlemen, we will show that the defendant, Cheryl Windsor, is indeed a brilliant and ingenious woman who is confident she can get away with murder.
"On Monday afternoon, September 10, 1990 Martin Windsor didn't return to work after going to lunch. It had been his habit for more than ten years to keep in close contact with his staff, so his absence was immediately noted. When the police were called in, they discovered that the last person to see Martin Windsor was his wife. When questioned by police Mrs. Windsor, however, claimed to have no knowledge of Mr. Windsor's whereabouts. In fact, she claimed she hadn't seen him on Monday at all.
"Her story, however, doesn't hold water. We will show through the testimony of various witnesses that several persons saw Mrs. Windsor come and go from his home on Monday, but nobody saw Mr. Windsor leave. So, unless he's a magician and simply vanished into thin air, Cheryl Windsor must have killed him.
"How she did it we'll probably never know, but weeks later his charred body was found in his car not thirty minutes from his home. Although, the fire gutted the vehicle and incinerated the body so it couldn't be positively identified, there is no doubt it was the body of Martin Windsor. The coroner will testify that the size, weight, and general build of the skeletal remains were consistent with that of Martin Windsor.
"But this is not the end of the story. Now that her husband was out of the way, Cheryl Windsor had to escape the sure hands of justice. She had to convince the world that she was a victim and not the perpetrator of this heinous crime. How did she do it? She staged the kidnapping of her own children and claimed that her husband was alive and had taken them from her.
"The final chapter of this ingenious plot was the systematic liquidation of the community assets into cash accounts which then quickly disappeared. Again she claimed her dead husband was responsible for this but the facts will show that the money all ended up in a bank account in the name of an international business corporation named Zorcor, Inc. which she controlled through a banker named Walter Johansen.
"Mr. Johansen will testify that Cheryl Windsor set up the offshore company through him and then had millions of dollars transferred into the corporation's bank account. This could only have been done with Mr. Windsor out of the way and possibly with the help of some of Mr. Windsor's partners and associates, all of whom have conveniently disappeared and will not be testifying in this trial.
"During the course of this trial you will hear much conflicting testimony, but I know you will carefully consider the evidence and the testimony and make a sound determination of the facts, which we will prove beyond any reasonable doubt. And those facts are that Cheryl Windsor intentionally caused the violent death of her husband, Martin Windsor, and then torched his car with his body inside to make it impossible to identify it. She did it for money and to keep from losing her children who were the subject of a bitter custody battle.
"Ladies and gentlemen, you have an opportunity to thwart this ingenious plot and bring Cheryl Windsor to justice, and I'm confident you will do so."
The judge nodded. "Mr. Turner. Do you wish to make an opening statement?"
"No, Your Honor. We'll wait until we put on our case in chief."
"Very well, then. Mr. Wilkerson, you may call your first witness."
Wilkerson stood up. "The state calls Detective John Perkins."
Perkins walked to the witness stand, the judge administered the oath, and Wilkerson began questioning him. "Detective, were you told to visit the home of Martin Windsor in early September of last year?"
"Yes, there had
been a missing person's report issued on Mr. Windsor by his secretary, Gloria Fellows. She stated that he didn't report to work that morning and when she called his home there was no answer. We were ordered to go to Mr. Windsor's house and see if he was okay."
"So when you went to the house, what did you find?"
"Mr. Windsor was not there so we talked to two neighbors," Perkins replied as he looked at his notes," Ah . . . Monica Koontz and Herman Baxter. They both told us they had seen Mr. Windsor go out to get the mail at about 3:00 p.m. and less than an hour later saw Mrs. Windsor park in front of the house and go inside. Neither of them saw Mr. Windsor leave but Baxter saw Mrs. Windsor leave with two men later that evening at about 6:30."
"So, after talking to the neighbors what did you do?"
"We knocked on the door, looked around the exterior of the home, and peeked in the windows. Then Mr. Baxter let us in the house with a key that Mr. Windsor had given him to use in case of an emergency."
"What did you find in the house?"
"Nothing. Mr. Windsor was not there."
"Did you have an occasion to talk to Mrs. Windsor about the disappearance of her husband?"
"Yes, we brought her in for questioning and she denied knowledge of his whereabouts. She claimed the last time she had seen him was at six o'clock on Sunday when he returned the children."
"Did you confront her with the fact that two neighbors had seen her at the house on Monday?"
"Yes, but she stuck to her story."
"Did you have an occasion to search the defendant's apartment?"
"Yes."
Wilkerson turned and looked at Cheryl, a smug look on his face. "Did you find anything of interest?"
"Yes, we found a gun—a 9-millimeter Smith & Wesson pistol."
"Had it been fired recently?"
"Yes."
"To whom did the gun belong?"
"It was registered to the defendant."
Wilkerson picked up the gun which was in a plastic bag on the prosecution table. "Is this the gun?"
Perkins took the bag and inspected it. Then he nodded. "It is."
Wilkerson brought the gun over to Stan and gleefully handed it to him. Stan snatched it away, gave it a cursory examination, and then handed it back to him. Addressing the judge, Wilkerson said, "Your Honor. We'd like People's Exhibit 13 admitted into evidence."
Stan replied, "No objection."
Wilkerson smiled broadly at Cheryl and then turned his attention back to Perkins."Anything else of interest found in the apartment?"
"We also found some surveillance equipment—bugs, small video cameras, and things like that."
"Do you have any idea what the defendant was using the surveillance equipment for?"
"Yes, when we searched Mr. Windsor's home we found some identical equipment. It was all purchased by Mrs. Windsor at a store in Plano called The Spy Shop. I can only assume she put it there to keep tabs on her husband and gather evidence against him."
Wilkerson nodded. "Thank you. Pass the witness."
The judge nodded. "Your witness, Mr. Turner."
Stan stood up and asked, "Detective, what was the condition of the interior of the house when you went inside?"
"There was no evidence of foul play, if that's what you're asking. "
"Did you send in a crime scene unit to inspect the premises?"
"Yes, we did."
"What was the result of that inspection?"
"They didn't find any evidence of third parties in the house."
"Was there any evidence of anyone having been in the house—Mr. Windsor, Cheryl, the children?"
"No."
"No fingerprints at all?"
"Not a single one."
"Isn't that rather strange?"
"Yes, it appeared the place had been thoroughly cleaned. There were no prints or fibers or other evidence of who might have been there."
"What do you make of that?"
"I don't know. All I know is that someone went to a lot of trouble to clean up that house."
"Thank you, Detective. Pass the witness."
Wilkerson took Detective Perkins on redirect as did Stan. Next Wilkerson called the two neighbors, Koontz and Baxter, to the stand to corroborate Perkin's testimony. On cross Stan asked Baxter about the two men he saw leave with Cheryl on Monday, September 10, 1990.
"They were wearing blue uniforms," said Baxter. The truck they were driving was from an air-conditioning company—Parr Heating and Air."
"Did the uniforms have a yellow triangle on the front?"
"Yes."
"Did you get a good look at the two men?"
"Yes, " Baxter said. "They were quite distinctive characters. I think I'd remember them."
Stan turned around and looked out into the gallery. He leaned over the table and whispered to me, "Go get me today's newspaper."
I frowned and started to protest but Stan gave me a look so I jumped up and headed for the law library on the second floor, borrowed a newspaper from the librarian and returned. The witness was describing one of the men when I walked in. I rushed up and handed the newspaper to Stan. He turned and looked at the judge. "May I approach the witness?"
The judge nodded. "You may."
Stan walked up to Baxter and showed him the picture of Weldon Everett on the front page of the Dallas Morning News. He asked, "Is this one of the men you saw at Martin Windsor's house?"
He looked carefully at the picture. "Yes, it is. That's the tall guy."
There was a murmur in the crowd, but the judge didn't seem to notice. He was looking down from the bench at the photograph. Stan asked that the newspaper photograph be admitted into evidence. Wilkerson objected, claiming it was hearsay, but the judge overruled the objection when Stan advised him Mr. Everett would be called as a witness and could be cross examined by the prosecution. Stan passed the witness, but Wilkerson had no questions, so Baxter was excused. Koontz testified next and backed up Baxter's testimony. After a short recess, the medical examiner, Winston Drysdale, was called to the stand. He was a tall, thin man in his late forties. He testified about being called to the scene where Mr. Windsor's car was found, examining the body, and performing an autopsy. Wilkerson asked him if he was sure this was the body of Martin Windsor.
"Well, like I said, the body was so charred that we couldn't get any DNA off it and apparently Mr. Windsor had no dental history, but judging from his skeletal size, projected weight, general build, and the fact that the body was found in Mr. Windsor's car, I would say it would be safe to assume that it was the body of Martin Windsor."
"What was the cause of death?"
"Two gunshot wounds to the heart and lungs. It was not possible to pinpoint the cause of death exactly since the body had been incinerated, but we were able to interpolate the points of entry of the bullets from damage we found to the victim's ribs. Based on the trajectory of the bullets either of the shots could have caused the victim's death."
"Did you find either of the bullets?"
"Yes, one 38-caliber bullet was found in the ashes of the body in the car."
"Were you able to determine the source of that bullet?"
"Yes, it came from the gun registered to the defendant."
The crowd erupted into chatter. The judge banged his gavel and admonished the crowd for their unruliness. Wilkerson got the bullet admitted into evidence, continued to question the medical examiner for some time, and when he was done, he passed the witness.
"Any questions, Mr. Turner?"
Stan stood up. "Yes, Your Honor. Mr. Drysdale, I believe you testified it would be safe to assume that this was the body of Martin Windsor."
"Yes, that's correct."
"But you don't know for certain whose body was in Mr. Windsor's car, do you?"
"No, like I said, the body was incinerated."
"So, is it possible that someone else put a body of similar size and stature in the car along with the shell from Cheryl's .38 Smith & Wesson and then torched the car?
"
"Yes, without a positive ID that is possible, but not likely."
"Not likely? Have you done some kind of study of probabilities in this case?"
Drysdale smiled. "No. I'm just saying it's not easy to obtain dead bodies, particularly when you have to have a particular height, weight, and stature."
"But if someone were trying to frame Cheryl Windsor for the murder of her husband, that's quite likely how it would have been done, don't you think? Assuming they could get a body."
"I suppose."
"Do you know how the car got to the location where it was found?"
"No, I do not."
"Do you have any evidence that Cheryl Windsor drove it there?"
"No, not specifically."
"Thank you. Pass the witness."
The judge looked at the clock. "It's time for lunch. We'll recess until 1:30 p.m." He left the bench and the courtroom suddenly came alive with conversation as spectators began filing out into the hallway. As we were reorganizing our papers, Agent Lot came up to us.
"Hi, I'm Agent Lot. We talked last night by telephone."
"Oh, right. Any new developments on the bank robbery?" I asked.
"No, not really. Like I told you, everyone is pretty baffled by the manner in which it was done."
I shook my head. "It is pretty scary to think someone can walk right into a bank vault and steal from a safety deposit box."
"Have you told your client his prototype was stolen?"
"Ah. . . . No, I'm trying to get in contact with him, but no luck yet."
He nodded. "Listen. I'm going to need to talk to you some more about what happened as soon as possible."
Stan shrugged. "Okay, you can buy us lunch."
Agent Lot smiled and replied, "That's fair enough. What do you feel like?"
"Well, since the government's buying, let's go to the Palm," I said. "I feel like lobster."
Twenty minutes later Agent Lot, Jodie, Stan and I were in a booth at the Palm Restaurant in the West End. Jodie and I ordered Lobster Bisque off the starter menu and the guys ordered Shrimp Bruno. While we were waiting, Agent Lot began to question us.
"The Bureau is very concerned about the bank robbery last night."
"More concerned than they usually would be?" I asked.
"Yes, it was the ease with which the bank's security was breached and the vault compromised. The robbery seems to have happened right in front of their noses but nobody can remember anything. Whoever did this managed to erase all the surveillance tapes as well. We've never seen anything like this before."
"Huh. I wonder how they did it?" Stan said.
"The thing is, they didn't leave a shred of evidence. In fact, they left the vault as clean as a hound's tooth."
"You know," I said. "I doubt a hound's tooth is all that clean."
Jodie and I giggled. I couldn't believe how cool Stan was. If I was being interrogated by an FBI agent and was hiding something, I'd be a nervous wreck.
Agent Lot frowned."Well, you know what I mean. The place was wiped down and vacuumed. It was so clean we couldn't find a single print or even a speck of dust inside the vault."
I looked at Stan. He looked at me. Jodie said, "They probably wore gloves and ski masks."
"Yeah, I suppose, but now did they hack the combination and override the alarm?"
"Well, I wish I could help you," Stan said, "but I never was very good at safe cracking."
"The thing is, Stan. You're the only lead we have. We want to know why they hit your box."
"I told you why."
"Right, your client's invention. I remember, but that's not good enough. A federal banking institution was robbed and we have to figure out how and why. You realize, don't you, if you're hiding something you could be charged with obstruction of justice."
Stan glared at Agent Lot. "Listen. I'm a little tied up right now with this murder trial. Should I ask the judge for a recess so I can go track down my client for you? Is that what you want?"
"No, calm down. I'm not threatening you. I just need something more than what you've given me so far. I'm getting a lot of heat from upstairs."
Stan thought for a moment. "I'll tell you what. I'll have my investigator, Paul Thayer, try to track down my client. Maybe he'll be able to find him and then I can put you two together so you can figure out why somebody wanted his invention so badly."
Agent Lot smiled. "Great. I appreciate that, Stan. I'm sorry I came down on you so hard."
"Forget it. You're just doing your job like I'm doing my job. No hard feelings."
Stan had bought us a little time, but I was worried about him getting in deeper and deeper with the lie about his client's invention. Eventually he'd have to produce the client and some evidence the invention existed or he'd be in serious trouble. Stan didn't seem worried, so I assumed he had a plan for extricating himself from the lie at a later date. At least I hoped so.
Cactus Island, A Stan Turner Mystery Vol 8 Page 49
