“And what were her symptoms?”
“Uh … she was reclusive. Never cleaned the house or cooked for herself, her neighbors took care of her. She did not relate to her peers. Talked to herself. Yelled at people passing the house.”
“Dissociative?” Vail asked.
“Uh, yes.”
“Spatially disoriented?”
“… Yes.”
“Doctor, aren’t these the symptoms of schizophrenia?”
“Well, yes …”
“So would it be fair to say that it is possible that Mrs. Stampler was schizophrenic?”
“Object!” Venable bellowed. “There is no way Dr. Bascott could possibly make such an analysis, sir!”
“Your Honor, we are merely saying that Aaron Stampler’s mother suffered some kind of mental disorder before she died and that should have been enough to raise serious questions about Aaron Stampler’s mental health in the minds of the state’s team. Perhaps enough to follow up by going to Crikside—as the defense did.”
“Your Honor, prosecution moves to have that entire testimony about Mrs. Stampler stricken from the record as hearsay.”
“Your Honor,” Vail shot back, “we submit that the facts concerning her condition are certainly admissible. And it is a medical fact that her symptoms are indicative of schizophrenia. What’s to object to?”
“I repeat, Your Honor, this is off-the-cuff analysis and it is meaningless.”
“All right, all right. I’m inclined to agree with Ms. Venable’s position here, Counselor. I understand your argument, but since the information is blatantly hearsay I must rule it out. The jury will disregard it. Move on will you, Mr. Vail?”
“Exception,” Vail snapped.
“Noted. Get on with it.”
“I’d like to go back to symbols for a moment. Doctor, will you explain very simply for the jury the significance of symbols. What they are, for instance?”
“Symbolic language is the use of drawings, symbols, uh, recognizable signs, to communicate,” Bascott said. “For instance, the cross is a symbol for Christianity while the numbers 666 are a universal symbol for the devil. Or to be more current, the symbol for something that is prohibited is a red circle with a slash through it. That symbol is recognized both here and in Europe. As a sign along the road, for instance.”
“In other words, symbols transcend language?”
“Yes, but not always.”
“Could a symbol come in the form of words. A message, for instance?”
“Hmm. Possibly. Yes.”
“So symbols can come in many forms, not just drawings or pictures?”
“Yes, that is true.”
“Now Doctor, you have testified that you have seen the photographs of the victim in this case, Bishop Rushman?”
“Yes, I have.”
“Studied them closely?”
“Yes.”
“Were there any symbols on the body?”
“Uhh…”
“Let me put it more directly. Do you think the killer left a message in the form of a symbol on the victim’s body?”
Venable was thinking a question ahead of Vail. He’s going to make something of the numbers on Rushman’s head, she thought. Possibly use it later to discredit Bascott in some way. Or maybe he’s fishing—trying to find out whether we know what the symbols mean. That was more likely. Venable wrote out the word “symbols” and “B32.156” on her legal pad and turned it over so no one could read it. But she decided now was not the time to spring it. She would wait until Arrington was on the stand and trap her into admitting the message came from Aaron.
“I can’t say for sure,” Bascott answered. “It appears that the killer was indicating something but we never figured that out and Stampler was no help.”
“Did he say he didn’t know what the symbol meant?”
“Objection, Your Honor. We have not established that it was a symbol.”
“Sustained.”
“Doctor, we are talking about the letter and numbers on the back of the victim’s head, correct?”
“I assumed that is what you meant. Yes.”
“Do you recall what the sequence was?”
“I believe it said, ‘B32.146.’”
“Actually, ‘B32.156,’” Vail corrected.
“I’m sorry. Correction, 156.”
“And do you believe that this was a symbol left by the killer?”
“Uh. Well, yes, I think we all made that assumption.”
“Did you try to analyze the symbol?”
“Well, we asked Stampler about it.”
“And he professes no knowledge of its meaning, correct?”
“Yes.”
“And that is as far as you took it, correct?”
“We did discuss it with Ms. Venable.”
“When?”
“Early on. I think before we ever talked with Stampler.”
“And what was the conclusion?”
“That it was probably immaterial to our responsibility.”
“Which was?”
“To analyze the patient.”
“Wouldn’t that be a significant piece of evidence in your analysis?”
“If we understood it. It takes years, sometimes, to break through, to decipher all these subtleties …”
“In other words, you really didn’t have time to examine all the facets of Mr. Stampler’s problems, did you?”
“Objection, Your Honor,” Venable barked, jumping to her feet. “Defense is trying to muddle the issue here. The doctor has stated that it might take years to decipher this symbol, as the counselor calls it. We are here to determine this case on the best evidence available. This line of questioning is completely irrelevant. The numbers could mean anything—maybe even an insignificant phone number.”
“Then let the doctor say so,” Vail countered.
“Rephrase, Counselor,” Shoat said, rather harshly.
“Doctor, do you think this symbol is relevant?”
“Anything is possible.”
“Do you think it is irrelevant?”
“I can’t really answer that.”
“But what do you think?”
“Objection! Can we stick to the facts, Your Honor?”
“Yes, Ms. Venable. Objection is sustained. Let’s keep conjecture out of this,” Shoat said.
“Doctor, are you saying that the numbers and letter on the back of the victim’s head probably have some significance, but that you just haven’t figured out what it is?”
“Yes, possibly they are significant.”
“Thank you. Now I believe you testified earlier that the diagnosis of mental diseases is as precise as the diagnosis of physical diseases, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Doctor, during your interviews with Aaron Stampler, did he ever offer an explanation of what happened the night Bishop Rushman was killed?”
“Yes he did.”
“And what was his explanation?”
“That he blacked out before the killing started.”
“Did he claim someone else was in the room at the time?”
“Yes he did.”
“Who was that person?”
“He could not identify him—or her.”
“So the defendant admits being there but denies committing the crime, is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“Is that possible? What I mean is, could Stampler have blacked out in that fashion?”
“Well, yes …”
“Is there a medical term for that condition?”
“Yes. It’s called fugue. A fugue event is another term for temporary, amnesia.”
“And is it uncommon in the study of abnormal psychology?”
“Well, it isn’t rare.”
“So you have treated people who suffered a fugue event?”
“Yes.”
“How long does it usually last?”
“Anywhere from a few minutes to, well, I know of one case where a patient w
ent into fugue for several months.”
“And this person was able to function normally in this state?”
“Yes. She just didn’t remember what happened during that period.”
“What would cause someone to go into this fugue state?”
“Undue stress, anxiety, recall…”
“Recall?”
“Remembering a traumatic event from the past. Also it can be triggered by something very simple. A doorbell ringing, a combination of words that is reminiscent of an event from the past.”
“So witnessing a brutal murder like this one could initiate a fugue event?”
“Yes, I would have to agree with that.”
“And when Aaron Stampler says he went into this fugue state, it is not a preposterous explanation, is it?”
“No, it could happen.”
“And if it did happen, it would be a form of mental disorder, would it not?”
“Yes.”
“But you say he never exhibited signs of fugue during your investigation?”
“No sir, he did not.”
“Doctor Bascott, let’s say a patient has emphysema, goes out in a cold rain improperly dressed, catches a cold and does not seek medical help. These conditions could possibly lead to pneumonia in the patient. True or false? Understand what I’m saying?”
“Yes. Cause and effect.”
“Right. And knowing the conditions, if you diagnosed the patient, you might predict that pneumonia could develop and take the proper precautions to prevent it, is that a fair assumption?”
“Your Honor, I am not comfortable with this line of questioning at all,” Venable said. “It’s all supposition and word games. Where is counsel going with this?”
“Give me another question or two, Your Honor.”
“One more chance, Counselor. Make your point or I’m going to rule this whole line out of order,” Shoat said.
“Dr. Bascott, here you have a young man and you are conducting tests to determine whether or not he is culpable in this case and you know that these conditions exist—first, that he has a confused and possibly disorienting religious background, and, second, that his mother was possibly schizoid. Would it not be fair to expect you to take extra steps to determine whether, in fact, schizophrenia exists here?”
“Well, yes. That’s what we did.”
“You specifically zeroed in on the possibility of schizophrenia?”
“We examined him for all types of mental disorders.”
“It is my impression, and correct me if I’m wrong, that you merely determined whether or not the defendant is capable of standing trial.”
“That was our responsibility. But that included diagnosing him for mental disorders.”
“So you can tell this court with assurance that he does not suffer from schizophrenia?”
“Well, I can say it does not impede his ability to recognize right from wrong and assist in his own defense.”
“In other words, it is immaterial whether he suffers from mental disorders or not.”
“Objection. Argumentative.”
“Sustained.”
“I’ll put it another way. Is it possible, Doctor, that Aaron Stampler could be suffering from a serious mental disorder and you overlooked it in your examinations? Is that possible?”
“Well, sir, anything is possible.”
“Are you saying, then, that it is unlikely?”
“Sir, two other noted psychiatrists and psychologists examined Mr. Stampler. I would say it is unlikely that all three of us could have overlooked anything of that importance.”
“So your answer is no?”
“Objection,” Venable said. “The doctor explained his position.”
“Your Honor, I am trying to determine whether he is saying it’s impossible or improbable, or if he’s saying it’s possible.”
Shoat sighed. “Please read the question again,” he instructed the court stenographer.
“ ‘I’ll put it another way. Is it possible, Doctor, that Aaron Stampler could be suffering from a serious mental disorder and you overlooked it in your examinations? Is that possible?’”
“And what was the immediate answer?” Shoat asked the stenographer.
“ ‘Well, sir, anything is possible.’”
“It seems to me, Counselor, that he answered the question,” Shoat said to Vail.
“Not exactly,” Vail answered. “I would like the doctor to go on record that the possibility of preemptive mental disorders was completely ruled out. This is key to the defense. It goes beyond the right-or-wrong test, Your Honor. Can Dr. Bascott swear that the defendant, Aaron Stampler, suffers no mental disorder which could result in either irresistible impulse or defect of reason?”
Venable stared over at Vail. The son of a bitch, he’s setting something up here, she thought. What the hell is he after?
“Your Honor,” she said quickly, “my objection stands. Dr. Bascott has explained his position.”
“Ambiguously,” Vail said.
The judge glared down at both of them.
“I agree with the prosecution,” he said brusquely.
“Okay, I want to be clear on this,” Vail said. “The doctor is admitting that it is possible some things were overlooked in the defendant’s examination.”
“Objection!” Venable yelled, standing and slamming her fist on the table. “He’s putting words in the mouth of the witness!”
“No sir,” Vail countered. “I am saying exactly what he said. It is possible they overlooked something.”
Dr. Bascott, realizing his credibility was in jeopardy, suddenly spoke up. “Sir,” he said, “I will say that Aaron Stampler is fully capable of understanding why he is here. If he does suffer any kind of mental disorder, it is my opinion that it is not severe enough to legally excuse him from his own actions.”
Vail smiled.
Gotcha.
“Thank you, Doctor.”
THIRTY-THREE
“Your Honor, the People call Dr. William Danielson.”
Vail doodled aimlessly on his legal pad as Venable ran through the routine questions establishing Danielson as the city’s chief medical examiner, where he went to school and his expertise.
“As medical examiner on this case, what were your responsibilities?” Venable asked.
“To make a detailed study and analysis of the corpse and the wounds and attendant conditions which caused his death and to assimilate them into a single report.”
Vail and Bill Danielson had gone a lot of rounds in the past and Vail liked him. Vail listened as Venable led Danielson through the description of the scene and up to the introduction of the photographs, then he jumped up.
“Objection, Your Honor,” said Vail. “The presentation of all thirty-or-so photographs is flagrantly prejudicial to my client. We submit that the prosecutor’s point can easily be supported with a half dozen of these pictures.”
“Yes, yes, Counselor, I’ve heard this before. Overruled.”
“Excuse me, sir, I take exception to your ruling,” Vail said pleasantly.
Shoat’s cheeks turned red. “Exception noted, sir,” he snorted with a scowl. “You may continue, Ms. Venable.”
Venable introduced the photographs one at a time, giving Danielson the opportunity to describe each one in gory detail—the amount of blood from each wound, the type (Danielson seemed to take particular pleasure in describing the difference between cuts, stabs, slices and incisions), how it was made, which ones were fatal and which were merely painful. The object was to create anxiety among the more squeamish of the jurors before the photographs were passed among them. The result would be even more damaging than simply exhibiting the pictures. The jury regarded each of the sanguine shots with abject horror, as she had expected.
“So, Dr. Danielson, did you conclude that death can be attributed to several different factors?”
“Yes. Body trauma, aeroembolism, cadaveric spasm, several of the stab wounds, exsanguination—that�
��s loss of blood. All could have caused death.”
“Can you identify which you think was the primary cause?”
“I believe it was the throat wound.”
“Why?”
“Because it caused aeroembolism, which is the sudden exit of air from the lungs. This kind of wound is always fatal; in fact, death is usually instantaneous. And this wound was profound. Exsanguination was also a factor.”
“Loss of blood?”
“Yes. The extent of the wounds caused excessive bleeding. Normally, when the organs cease functioning, bleeding slows down. You get seepage but not a flow of blood. But in this case, the wounds were so numerous and so devastating that he lost almost all of his blood. The human body contains six quarts of blood; there was less than a pint in his body at autopsy. As you can see in the photographs, it was splashed on the walls, lamp shades, windows, but to a large extent it collected around the body itself.”
“All right, Your Honor, enough is enough,” Vail yelled. “We concede that there was a lot of blood on the scene. Is it necessary to continue subjecting the jury to these sickening details?”
“Mr. Vail, let me worry about the jury.”
“Fine. I’ll worry about my client,” Vail said. “As I reminded the court earlier, the prosecutor’s focus on the sick details of this case is highly prejudicial. What’s the prosecutor going to do next, haul the bishop’s blood into the courtroom in buckets so the jury can see it firsthand?”
“All right, that’s enough, Counselor,” Shoat yelled back. “Are you making some kind of motion here?”
“Yes, Your Honor. We concede that there were five and a half quarts of blood in the room. We concede that it came from the victim, that it’s red, viscous, and thicker than water—”
“All right, sir, that’s enough!” Shoat bellowed.
“And we object, Your Honor,” Vail continued, jabbing a forefinger toward Venable. “We object to any further discussion of the disposition of Bishop Rushman’s bodily fluids.”
The exchange broke the tension in the room. Several of the jurors snickered. Vail had reduced the most damaging visual evidence to a joke and Venable knew it. To continue now would risk losing points.
“We’ll move on,” Venable volunteered.
“Thank you, Madam Prosecutor,” Shoat said. He motioned Vail closer to the bench and said in a stage whisper, “Curb your emotions, sir.”
Primal Fear Page 40
