Fire Blight

by Nat Williams

“That the sheriff’s office wanted a finger pointed at Mr. Purcell?”

  “Objection,” Hilliard said. “Leading.”

  “The question points to motive,” Lips countered.

  “Overruled,” Peregrino said. “Continue.”

  Lips immediately turned away and faced the jury, then turned his attention back to Obie.

  “At any time after the crime were you under the impression that you were a suspect?”

  “I thought I might be. Probably everyone who had anything to do with …”

  “But were you interrogated by the police?”

  “Yes.”

  “Pretty traumatic, I bet.”

  “I guess it was. I’d never had to do anything like that before.”

  “Is it safe to say that you would probably do or say anything to get out of that situation?”

  “Objection!” Hilliard said. This time, he stood up and walked from behind the table. “Leading.”

  “Overruled.” Peregrino’s command seemed a little more forceful than his previous directives. Things were heating up in the room. It’s a natural progression. A trial can be like a baseball game, going from boring to exciting in a moment.

  “Mr. Lynch, would you describe to the jury your relationship with Janet Purcell?”

  “She is part owner of the orchard, so in a way, she is my boss.”

  “She’s more than just your boss, though, isn’t she?”

  “Objection!” Hilliard nearly screamed.

  Peregrino had heard enough.

  “Chambers,” he said.

  The judge called a short recess and soon found himself in a room with the four lawyers involved in the trial. Hilliard spoke first.

  “Your honor, there has been no testimony here about any personal relationship between Mr. Lynch and Mrs. Purcell.”

  “Not yet,” Lips responded. “But we have reason to believe that the state has evidence of a romantic relationship. An eyewitness account by a federal officer – FBI Agent Douglas Munro. Such evidence wasn’t included in discovery, your honor.”

  Peregrino turned his attention from Lips to Hilliard. “What is Mr. Lipscomb talking about?”

  “Your honor, I assume he is referring to a stakeout in which Mr. Munro was involved. As he testified earlier, he was investigating the victim and defendant on a case unrelated to the one being tried here. We felt the surveillance wasn’t relevant to this case and isn’t subject to discovery.”

  Peregrino shook his head, his annoyance obvious.

  “I thought we all agreed in our little pre-trial soiree that there would be no more surprises,” he said. “Mr. Lipscomb, if this is a clumsy attempt to force a mistrial, you have the wrong judge. I will gut you like a catfish.”

  “Not at all, your honor,” Lips said. “I’m taking this thing to the finish line.”

  Peregrino turned to Hilliard.

  “Sir, your omission of the surveillance in discovery is more than regrettable. If I were still a junior high teacher like I was in my old life, I’d give you both a swat or two. These days, that would probably put me in jail. I’m beginning to think that it might be worth it. Anyway, I’m going to give you both a break and leave my paddle hanging on the wall. I’m not going to do anything about the possible breach of discovery protocol, but the trial will proceed. Mr. Lipscomb, you will terminate this line of questioning. Understood?”

  The lawyers meekly nodded. The judged waved them away as if he were shooing a fly. Soon they were back in the courtroom.

  “The court reporter will strike the last question,” Peregrino said. “And the jurors will ignore same.”

  Lips paced in a spot equidistant between Obie Lynch and the jury.

  “If something would happen to David Purcell – say he went to prison – how would that affect your position at the orchard?”

  Obie shifted uncomfortably.

  “I have no idea. Never entered my mind.”

  “Other than Mrs. Purcell, who has been in charge of the business during these months the defendant has been behind bars?”

  “I suppose I have.”

  “Do you believe you are qualified to run such a business?”

  “I believe so. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be there.”

  “Thank you. No more questions.”

  Hilliard, shell-shocked, decided not to cross. The sooner Obie Lynch left the courtroom, the better.

  CHAPTER 75

  Lipscomb called Allison Heady to the stand. She was part of the FSC team that processed the crime scene. Heady was in her mid-thirties, with an average build, wireframe glasses and long, straight brown hair.

  She was asked to state her credentials, which she did: a bachelor’s degree in forensic science from Saint Louis University, four years in the field, about fifty crime-scene examinations.

  “Ms. Heady, I understand you specialize in ballistics. Is that right?”

  “Yes, I have training in what is sometimes called ballistics fingerprinting, which consists of matching a firearm with a bullet through striations made in rifling.”

  “That sounds complicated.”

  “It can be. But when you have the proper tools, it’s not difficult to make a determination.”

  “In this case, you didn’t have an opportunity to use that training, did you?”

  “No, because no weapon was recovered.”

  “So let’s talk about your other areas of expertise. Would you explain to the jury a little bit about blood spatter, cartridge discharge residue and stippling?”

  “Certainly. The science is complex, but I can present the basics.”

  “Please do.”

  “Blood spatter refers to the direction, intensity and pattern of blood and other bodily fluids that have been sprayed from a body caused by a gunshot wound or other violent impact of a weapon on a body.”

  “And stippling?”

  “Stippling refers to the pattern of gunshot residue that is literally burned into the skin as a result of a discharge close to the body.”

  “What about cartridge discharge residue?”

  “That is a term used to describe a pattern of gunshot residue left on the hands and sleeves of someone who has discharged a firearm. It is composed of burnt and unburnt particles from the explosive primer, the propellant and possibly fragments of the bullet, cartridge case and firearm.”

  Lipscomb made a forty-five-degree turn, as he often did, half facing the witness and half facing the jury.

  “I would imagine that you are familiar with the practice of bagging one’s hands?”

  “Yes.”

  “What does that mean exactly?”

  “Sometimes bags are placed over the hands of someone involved in an investigation to preserve evidence such as gunshot residue. That can determine if the person had recently fired a weapon.”

  “And whose hands are usually bagged?”

  “Normally, a person of interest. A suspect.”

  “Are the hands of victims ever bagged?”

  “Sometimes, but not as a general rule.”

  “We heard, in earlier testimony, that the victims’ hands were not bagged. They weren’t checked for gunshot residue. What factored into that decision?”

  “The murder weapon was not recovered. It’s not unusual that victims aren’t tested for gunshot residue when there is no murder weapon at the scene.”

  “So it’s possible one or both of them could have fired a weapon.”

  “It’s possible. But the scene didn’t indicate that.”

  “Is it possible that the Van Okin incident was actually a murder-suicide?”

  “Judging from the number and location of the wounds, it seems highly unlikely.”

  “But not impossible.”

  “I learned a long time ago that nothing is impossible,” Heady said.

  “So it’s possible that one or more of the wounds could have been self-inflicted. And someone came by later and fired more shots into the victims.”

  It wasn’t a question, so
Heady didn’t respond.

  “Thank you. Your witness.”

  Hilliard remained seated.

  “Ms. Heady, you said earlier that it is unusual to test a victim’s hands for gunshot residue. What evidence on the scene supported that decision?”

  “Mainly, a lack of evidence. No weapon was found on the scene.”

  She had already said that. But that didn’t matter. Hilliard wanted the jury to hear it again.

  “Thank you. No more questions.”

  Lipscomb stood up.

  “The defense would like call Ben Taggart back to the stand.”

  Taggart had testified earlier in the trial for the prosecution. He was tall, about six-foot-four, with a handsome head of white hair and a handlebar mustache. He took the oath and sat in the witness chair.

  “Please remind the jury of your profession.”

  “I am currently serving as coroner of Gilbert County.”

  “And how long have you held that position?”

  “It’s going on twenty-eight years now.”

  “Mr. Taggart, to refresh my memory, please describe the qualifications of your job and your duties.”

  “The coroner is responsible for the investigation of deaths, including determining the cause of death.”

  “So do you get involved every time a person dies in Gilbert County?”

  “No, only in cases in which death occurs outside a hospital, and when the cause is unknown or suspicious.”

  “Are you a medical doctor?”

  “No, I am not, though I have some medical training.”

  “Could you describe that training?”

  “I was a pre-med grad and spent a year in medical school. But there was a death in the family and I was forced to abandon my studies.”

  “A coroner’s duty is to determine the cause of death, correct? How do you go about that?’

  “I confer with crime scene investigators, forensic pathologists and others.”

  “Could you describe your findings of the cause of deaths of Dr. Van Okin and Norma Van Okin?”

  “I determined that both deaths were the result of gunshot wounds from a firearm discharging 7.65 mm rounds.”

  “And how many wounds were there?”

  This evidence had been presented before at the trial, but Lipscomb wanted it out there again.

  “Dr. Van Okin was shot three times and Mrs. Van Okin twice.”

  “Did you determine which gunshot wound was the fatal one on Dr. Van Okin?”

  “Because of the time that elapsed between the injuries and the discovery of the bodies, we were unable to confidently determine which was the fatal wound.”

  “Dr. Van Okin was shot in the right temple, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is it more likely that that wound was the fatal one?”

  “It is likely that it was a fatal shot, yes.”

  “One more thing,” Lips said. “Was Dr. Van Okin right-handed or left-handed?”

  “He was right-handed.”

  “Is it true that statistics show that the most common location of a suicide shot is the temple on the dominate side of the victim?”

  “Yes, about a third of handgun suicides involve entry wounds on the dominate-side temple.”

  “Thank you. No further questions, your honor.”

  Hilliard stood, but chose to remain behind the prosecution table.

  “Mr. Taggart, how many murder cases have you been involved with?”

  “I couldn’t say. Besides the years as coroner, I worked in other medically related jobs. I was an emergency medical technician, and also worked in a trauma center.”

  “Did you ever come across an instance in which a murder victim was shot at close range?”

  “Yes, more than once.”

  “In the temple?”

  “Yes.”

  “Thank you. Nothing else, your honor.”

  Lipscomb stood up, straightened his tie and announced that the defense wished to rest its case.

  CHAPTER 76

  The trial had entered the end stage. Closing arguments.

  Vernon Hilliard shuffled some papers, stood up and faced the jury.

  “First, I would like to speak for the people of Illinois. Thank you for your service.”

  He looked down, glancing at some notes written on a yellow legal pad.

  “Dr. and Mrs. Van Okin were brutally murdered in the sanctity of their home. During this trial you have heard the tape, you have listened to the testimony of witnesses, that David Purcell lied about his whereabouts that night. He said he was nowhere near the Van Okin property. An eye witness who saw his truck parked in the driveway counters that statement. Tire tracks that could only have been made by his pickup truck in the early hours of August 3 indicate he was there.

  “Why would someone lie about something like that? What could be the reason? If one of you were asked where you were last night, I don’t believe you would say you were at the pizza parlor on Ninth Avenue when, in fact, you were at Chinese buffet on Madison. You wouldn’t mistake a library for a tattoo parlor. Or a car dealership for an insurance office.”

  He strutted a little.

  “Especially in relation to something as important as a murder scene. David Purcell didn’t forget. He didn’t get his times mixed up. He lied, because he was at the murder scene. Because he fired the shots that caused the deaths of Dr. and Mrs. Van Okin. He lied because he wanted to escape justice.

  “You may ask what motive the son-in-law of the victims may have had to end their lives. Anger. Revenge. Greed. Survival. Take your pick. We may never know. But one thing we do know is that the defendant’s only consistency is his inconsistency.

  “You heard the defendant’s banker, farm suppliers and others describe the financial problems he was having. You heard FBI Agent Douglas Munro testify that the defendant likely involved Dr. Van Okin in a criminal enterprise that jeopardized everything the doctor had worked for all his life. Only David Purcell knows whether Dr. Van Okin was ready to come clean and implicate the him, or whether he believed Dr. Van Okin wasn’t sharing in the illicit profits.

  “The defendant made two cellphone calls to Dr. Van Okin that evening. He had told investigators that he had not spoken with Dr. Van Okin. Another lie.”

  He pointed to Purcell.

  “The man sitting in that chair – David Purcell – is a killer. A murderer. He took the lives of two people who were doing nothing more than sitting in the living room of their home. He robbed a family of their loved ones. He robbed patients of their doctor. He took from citizens a woman who poured her heart into this community.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, yours is an awesome responsibility. You are charged with delivering justice. You have heard the witnesses and seen the physical evidence. You alone are in a position to bring justice to this couple. They can’t speak. But you can speak for them by returning a guilty verdict.”

  Hilliard took a seat.

  “Mr. Lipscomb?” Peregrino said.

  Lips strummed his fingers on a legal pad, stood up and smoothed his suit jacket. He slowly walked around the defense table and approached the jury.

  “If you recall my opening statement, Mr. Purcell is innocent. That’s the law. The prosecution can’t change that. The judge can’t change that. Only you can turn an innocent man into a guilty man.

  That’s the way the system works.

  “And, according to the law, you may not declare that this man is guilty unless you are convinced, beyond a reasonable doubt, that he murdered his mother-in-law and father-in-law. That he shot them several times with a gun that has never been produced. That he killed them for no particular reason.

  “Not only has no murder weapon been found, but there are no witnesses to this crime. And remember, Dr. Van Okin was going through a very stressful period. His wife – who had been his partner in life for so many years – was failing. He could not communicate with her the way he had before. She was not going to get better. And he knew that. P
robably better than anyone. He was a physician, after all.

  “Dr. Van Okin was also in a very precarious financial position. He was being smothered by crushing debt that would be difficult to erase. His future may have looked bleak. What could he do – file bankruptcy? Then what would happen to his beloved wife? He couldn’t take care of her.

  “You heard two crime scene investigators say they did not test the victims for gunshot residue. That means there is no way to rule out a murder-suicide. No murder weapon was found and no evidence was presented showing that the defendant even owned the type of gun that resulted in the deaths of Dr. and Mrs. Van Okin.”

  Lips paused. His eyes slowly scanned those of each juror, seemingly peering into their very souls.

  “Members of the jury, your task is simple. Your duty is either to rule that the state presented evidence beyond reasonable doubt that David Purcell committed the crime of murder, or follow the trail of the evidence presented here, which clearly leads to reasonable doubt. If you do that, I firmly believe that your only choice will be to return a verdict of not guilty. Either way, I humbly offer my gratitude for exercising your civic responsibility. Thank you.”

  He slowly made his way back to the defense table, patting David Purcell on the back as he took his seat.

  It was Peregrino’s turn. He addressed the jury.

  “You have heard testimony in this case presented by the prosecution and the defense. It is your duty to determine the facts.

  “The defendant, David Purcell, has been charged with two counts of first degree murder. In order to return a verdict of guilty, you must be convinced that the defendant intended to kill or do great bodily harm, or knew that his actions may cause death or great bodily harm.

  “The bailiff will now lead you to the jury room to consider your verdict. Your first duty will be to select a foreperson who will preside over the deliberations. The foreperson shall not have a higher standing than other jurors, but will serve as your spokesperson.

  “In Illinois any verdict must be agreed upon by each individual juror. You shall not return a verdict that is not unanimous.”

  The jury filed out of the courtroom, the judge left and everyone else rose. A muted murmur echoed off the courtroom’s oak paneling.