“Objection, Your Honor. Lieutenant’s Stenner’s religious beliefs have nothing to do with this case.”
“On the contrary, Your Honor. If I may proceed, I think I can show the relevance.”
“Overruled. Read the last question, please, Ms. Blanchard.”
“‘Is the Resurrection a matter of fact or a theory?’”
“Lieutenant?”
“It is a matter of faith, sir.”
“So you believe in scientific fact and you believe in religious faith, but you question the scientific reality of a psychiatric disorder which all psychologists agree exists and which is included in DSM3, which is the standard by which all psychiatric disturbances are identified, isn’t that a fact, sir?”
“It can be faked. You can’t fake two plus two, but you could sure fake a fugue state.”
“I see. And how many people do you know for a certainty have faked a fugue state?”
Stenner paused for a moment, then said, “None.”
“How many people do you know who have had experiences with faked fugue states?”
“None.”
“Read a lot of examples of faking a fugue state?”
“No.”
“So you’re guessing, right?”
“It’s logical. If there is such a thing, it could certainly be faked.”
“Have you asked a psychiatrist if it’s possible?”
“No.”
“So you’re guessing, Lieutenant, yes or no?”
“Yes.”
“Ah, so your reason for doubting Aaron Stampler’s statement is that you guessed he was faking—or lying, right?”
“That is correct.”
“You didn’t believe him?”
“No I did not.”
“So you assumed that Aaron was lying and that he killed Bishop Rushman, correct?”
“It was a very logical assumption.”
“I’m not questioning the logic of your assumption, just that it existed. You assumed Stampler was guilty, right?”
“Yes.”
“When did you ascertain that Aaron was alone in the room with the bishop at the time of the murder?”
“I don’t understand…”
“At what point, Lieutenant, were you positive from reviewing the evidence that Aaron Stampler acted alone?”
“From the very beginning.”
“And what evidence did you gather to prove he was alone in the room?”
“Forensics evidence. Uh …”
“Let me put it another way. Aaron Stampler tells you that he blacked out when he entered the bishop’s room, correct?”
“Yes.”
“What did you do to disprove his allegation? In other words, sir, what evidence or witnesses can you produce that will verify your contention that he was alone in the room and that he acted alone?”
“Forensics evidence, physical evidence, just plain logic …”
“You believe in the Resurrection, yet it defies logic, does it not?”
“Not to a good Christian.”
“So you believe in an act of faith, but deny the existence of a fugue state, which is a scientifically proven fact. Isn’t that true?”
“I said I don’t trust Stampler.”
“Because you think it is logical that he was faking, right?”
“I suppose so.”
“Do you recall a case involving a man named John Robinson Jeffries?”
“Objection, Your Honor. Immaterial and irrelevant.”
“I intend to prove it’s very material, Your Honor.”
“I’ll keep an open mind and overrule, but don’t stray, Mr. Vail.”
“Thank you. Do you recall the case, Lieutenant?”
“I believe so.”
“Mr. Jeffries was arrested for what?”
“Murder and armed robbery.”
“And you arrested him because it seemed logical at the time, isn’t that correct?”
“Yes, there was … uh …”
Stenner hesitated in mid-sentence.
“A great deal of physical evidence?” Vail said. “That what you were going to say, Lieutenant Stenner?”
“Something like that.”
“Even had an eyewitness, did you not?”
“That’s true.”
“A preponderance of evidence, right?”
“That’s right.”
“Was Mr. Jeffries convicted of this crime, Lieutenant?”
“Yes.”
“Was he tried?”
“Yes.”
“Found guilty?”
“Yes.”
“What was his sentence, Lieutenant?”
“He was sentenced to death.”
“And was that sentence carried out?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Jeffries was subsequently released.”
“Who arranged that?”
“I did.”
“Why? Why, after submitting the case to the prosecution and getting a guilty verdict, why did you then help get him released?”
“I discovered while working on another case that our eyewitness lied.”
“Why did he do that?”
“Because he was the guilty party.”
“You see, Lieutenant, I have a problem with some of these logical assumptions that have been made during this trial. Do you understand why?”
“Most of the time—”
“Lieutenant, my client’s life is at stake here. ‘Most of the time’ won’t do. And so much for logic and a preponderance of evidence. Mr. Danielson says he cannot say for sure that Aaron was alone in the room, cannot say for sure that only one person actually stabbed the bishop, and cannot prove evidentially that Aaron even came in the back door or brought the knife to the murder scene. Yet you assumed Aaron Stampler lied to you because it wasn’t logical, right?”
No answer.
“The fact is, Lieutenant, that you are willing to accept on faith that Christ was crucified and died, that he arose from the dead, and went to heaven. But you don’t choose to believe the fact that a person, under extreme stress or shock, can black out and enter a scientifically described limbo called a fugue state. So you never actually tried to prove that Aaron Stampler was lying, did you?”
“The physical evidence—”
“Answer my question, Lieutenant. Did you seek any evidence that might substantiate Aaron Stampler’s statement?”
“The evidence itself disputes it.”
“Really? At what point did you rule out the presence of a third person in the room?”
“He had the weapon, he was covered with blood, he left fingerprints …”
“My question, sir, is at what point did you specifically rule out the presence of a third person in the room?”
Stenner hesitated.
“Isn’t it a fact, Lieutenant Stenner, that you never even considered the possibility?”
“Not seriously. No.”
“In other words, you never specifically ascertained that Stampler was lying, you simply assumed that his story was bogus and the jury would not believe it, right?”
“It’s not my job to prove the defendant is innocent, it’s yours,” Stenner snapped.
“On the contrary, Lieutenant, it’s your job to prove he’s guilty.”
Stenner glared at Vail, his eyes flashing with anger.
“It’s your job to prove—beyond a shadow of a doubt—that this crime happened exactly as you claim it happened and to do that I would suggest you must also discredit the claims of the defendant, which you have not done.”
“The physical evidence alone is overwhelming.”
“But not conclusive.”
“Of course it’s conclusive.”
“How many witnesses did you interview about the altar boys’ meeting in the room earlier that night?”
“Actually none …”
“Was there a meeting of the altar boys in that room earlier in the evening or not?”
“I c
an’t say for sure.”
“Lieutenant, were there fibers recovered from the murder scene that have not yet been identified?”
“Yes.”
“So it’s possible they were left by a third person in the room, is that correct?”
“I guess …”
“Or by one of the altar boys earlier in the evening?”
“There’s no record of any meeting …”
“Ah, but there is a record, Lieutenant. The bishop’s date-book, which you introduced into evidence. On this page, the bishop wrote ‘Altar Boy critique’ for eight P.M.”
“The bishop could have canceled it.”
“Well, he could have danced in a topless bar, too, but he didn’t.”
The gallery broke into subdued laughter, having been warned more than a few times about demonstrations by Shoat.
Venable said, “Your Honor…”
“Yes, Ms. Venable. Mr. Vail, we can do without the metaphors and analogies. Stick to the facts.”
“Lieutenant, can you prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that only the defendant and the bishop were in the room at the time of the murder?”
“I suppose not, but the preponderence of evidence indicates—”
“ ‘Indicates’? ‘Indicates’? The evidence is all circumstantial,” Vail said. He turned back to his notes. “I have only one more question, Lieutenant Stenner. You stated a few minutes ago that this crime was premeditated. You said it unequivocally, as a statement of fact. Isn’t that just another one of your unsupported allegations, sir?”
“No sir, it is not.”
“Well, will you please tell the court upon what evidence you base that supposition?”
“Several factors,” Stenner said confidently.
“Such as?”
“The symbols on the back of the bishop’s head.”
The answer was a shock to Vail. He had broken the first commandment in law—never ask a question unless you know the answer. So they had unraveled the mystery of the symbols. Vail realized he could not back away now. He was in it with Stenner. He had to pursue the line of questioning he had opened, and do it with great caution.
“And what about the symbols, Lieutenant?”
A flicker of a smile crossed Stenner’s lips.
“They refer to a quote from a book in the bishop’s library. The passage was marked in the book. We found similar markings in a book retrieved from Stampler’s quarters in the Hollows. Same highlighter was used and we can identify the handwriting in both books as Stampler’s.”
“Your Honor,” Venable said, “I can offer both of these volumes in evidence at this time.” She carried both books to the bench.
“All right, mark them appropriately, Clerk,” Shoat said.
Vail’s mind was racing. Could he afford to continue? If he dropped the line of questioning at this point, Venable would finish it. If he went on, he would most likely shoot himself in the foot. What the hell, he thought, it’s in the open. Better for him to pursue the point.
“Lieutenant,” Vail began, “why do you believe these markings on the victim’s head prove premeditation?”
“Because he planned it. He wrote in blood, on the victim’s head, the symbol B32.156. B32.156 is the way this book is identified, it’s a method for cataloging the books in the bishop’s library.”
“And what does it mean?”
Careful, Abel, Venable thought.
“It is a quote from the novel The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne,” Stenner said, opening the book. “‘No man, for any considerable period, can wear one face to himself, and another to the multitude, without finally getting bewildered as to which may be the true.’”
“What is the significance of that quote?”
“It is our belief that Stampler felt betrayed by Bishop Rushman, who made him leave Savior House. His girlfriend left him, he was living in a hellhole. He felt the bishop was two-faced. So he put this symbol in blood on the victim’s head to add insult to injury.”
“Nothing more than that?”
“Just further proof that Stampler was planning to murder Bishop Rushman all along.”
“Why?”
“Because he memorized the index number of the quote, and put it on the back of the victim’s head when he killed him,” Stenner said. “I don’t know what you call it, Mr. Vail, but I call that premeditation.”
Vail had to make a fast decision. Should he bring in the whole sordid story of the altar boys or drop the questioning now? He decided to back off.
“I think you’re reaching, Lieutenant,” he said. He walked back to his desk. “You can’t prove the defendant was alone in the room with the victim, you can’t prove he struck the fatal blow, you can’t prove he came in the back door, or took the knife to the bedroom, and you base premeditation on some highlighting in books and you can’t even prove Mr. Stampler made those markings.”
“We proved it to my satisfaction.”
“Well, I guess we should thank our lucky stars you’re not on the jury, sir. I have no more questions, Your Honor. The witness may come away.”
The judge stared at Vail as he sat down. Had Vail been ambushed? he wondered. It appeared to him, and probably to the jury, that Vail had backed away from the quote from the book. It seemed to have snapped his momentum and juries picked up on things like that.
“We have no more witnesses at this time, Your Honor,” Venable said. “The state rests.”
Now it was Vail’s turn. What’s he got up his sleeve? the judge wondered. He didn’t wonder for long.
“Are you ready, Mr. Vail?” Shoat asked.
“Yes sir, the defense is ready to proceed.”
“Please do.”
Vail said, “The defense calls Aaron Stampler.”
And the courtroom went berserk.
THIRTY-FIVE
Although Aaron Stampler had been sitting in the front of the courtroom for several days, the anticipation of the young killer on the witness stand created a minute or two of bedlam in the room. Shoat rapped the room into silence, and an eerie quiet settled over the legal arena as Aaron stood up.
For five days, he had sat quietly and attentively as the witnesses for the prosecution painted him as an ungrateful psychopath who had turned on the Saint of Lakeview Drive in a brutal, senseless, and perverse combination of anger and vengeance. Throughout the trial, the well-dressed, handsome young man had listened with deep concern to the accusations made against him, seeming almost intimidated by the procedure. Now, as he approached the witness stand, the courtroom became funereal, the spectators silently watching his every step, scrutinizing his expression, as if his countenance might mirror the most perverse secrets of his soul. They were disappointed. All they saw was a baby-faced vulnerable youth who appeared both confused and frightened.
When he answered the oath he said in a loud, clear voice, “Yes suh, I will tell all the truth.”
Vail approached him with his hands in his pockets, the hint of a smile on his face, his attitude calm and reassuring.
“Please tell the court your name.”
“Aaron Stampler.”
“How old are you, Aaron?”
“I be nineteen yairs old.”
“And where were you born?”
“Town called Crikside in Kentucky.”
“That’s C-r-i-k-s-i-d-e?” Vail asked, spelling the name to a ripple of laughter.
“Yes suh.”
“That’s in the mountains in coal mining country, is it not?”
“Yes suh, ’bout an hour or so south of Lexington.”
“And where do you live now?”
“I had a stander down in th’ Hollows.”
“Was it pretty awful down there?”
“Yes suh. Dark, dirty, smelled bad, n’ air, n’ water, n’ toilets ’r showers. It were bad, yes suh.”
“And how long did you live there?”
“Three weeks.”
“Before you were arrested?”
“Yes suh.�
��
“Did you have a job at the time you were arrested?”
He nodded. “Yes suh, cleanup man at the libury.”
“How much did you make?”
“Well, it were part-time. Two-fifty an hour and I worked ’bout twenty-five hours a week.”
“About sixty-five dollars a week?”
“Yes suh.”
“Aaron, did you blame Bishop Rushman for that, for having to live in that awful place?”
“No suh, it were my choice.”
“Your choice?”
“Yes suh. M’ girlfriend, Linda, and I decided to live t’gether. We found this one-room apartment and she had a job in th’ supermarket s’ we could afford it. Then she went back home to Ohio and I had t’ move. But it weren’t the bishop’s fault, I mean all thet what happened, ’tweren’t anybody’s fault.”
“Was the bishop upset that you were going to live with Linda?”
“He never said a thaing ’bout it, one way or t’other.”
“Aaron, did you ever have a serious fight with Archbishop Rushman?”
“No suh, I never had any kinda fight with th’ bishop. We talked a lot, mostly ’bout things I read in books, ideas ’n’ sech. But we were always friends.”
“So the bishop did not order you out of Savior House and you were still friends after you left?”
“Yes suh.”
Vail walked to the end of the jury box and leaned on the railing so Aaron was looking straight at the jury.
“You had access to the bishop’s library, did you not?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Could borrow books anytime you wanted?”
“Yes, ’cept if somebody were in the office with him. His office and the libury were the same.”
“And this was after you left Savior House?”
“Yes suh.”
“So he trusted you?”
“Yes suh.”
Not a mention of the books that Stampler marked with the highlighter, Venable thought to herself, particularly the one book. He was obviously tiptoeing around that one. She made a note to herself.
“How much schooling do you have, Aaron?”
“I finished high school and one yair o’ college in the extension.”
“You took night courses here in the city?”
“Yes suh.”
“How were your grades in grammar and high school?”
“I were always an A student.”
“Were you valedictorian of your high school graduating class?”
Primal Fear Page 43
