by Parnell Hall
Oswald shook his head. “There is no doubt in my mind. If I misspoke myself, I apologize. What I said was a figure of speech. If you want to build on it, I can’t stop you. But the fact is, I would say no, because the answer is no, so that’s what I would say.”
That sally brought smiles to the faces of some of the jurors. Dirkson grinned approvingly.
Steve Winslow took no notice. “That may well be,” he said. “But I’d rather let the evidence speak for itself. Tell me, did you photograph the keyboard of the computer?”
“No, I did not.”
“Why not?”
“I told you. Because there were no legible prints.”
“Which you have no way of proving, since you didn’t take the photograph of the keyboard.”
“Objected to as argumentative,” Dirkson said.
“Sustained.”
“Did you photograph the keyboard?” Steve asked.
“Objected to as already asked and answered.”
“Sustained.”
Steve Winslow frowned. “No further questions.”
In the back of the courtroom, Mark Taylor nudged Tracy Garvin. “What’s he up to now?”
Tracy leaned over to whisper. “Giving the impression the prosecution’s hampering his investigation by being overly technical.”
Taylor grinned. “You’re gettin’ good at this.”
Next, Dirkson called Phillip Riker from the police crime lab, who testified to examining the fingerprints that had been received in evidence.
“Mr. Riker,” Dirkson said. “Did you compare those prints with the known prints of any person or persons?”
“Yes, I did.”
“And who would that be?”
“Well, I first compared the prints with the prints taken from the decedent, David Castleton.”
“With what results?”
“The majority of the prints were his. May I consult my records?”
“Please do.”
Riker took a notebook from his jacket pocket. “Yes, here we are. There were thirty-one prints in all. Twenty-six of them proved to be prints of the decedent, David Castleton.”
“The remaining five-did you compare those with the known prints of any person?”
“Yes, I did.”
“With what results?”
“Four of those prints matched absolutely with the known prints taken from David Castleton’s cleaning lady, Joyce Wilkens.”
“I see,” Dirkson said. “And the one remaining print-did you compare that with the known prints of any person?”
“Yes, I did.”
“With what result?”
“That print matched absolutely with the right thumb print taken from the defendant, Kelly Clay Wilder.”
There was a murmur in the courtroom. Judge Wallingsford silenced it quickly with the gavel.
“Thank you, Mr. Riker,” Dirkson said. “To which print are you now referring?”
“May I see the exhibits?”
“Certainly,” Dirkson said. He handed the fingerprint lifts to the witness.
Riker riffled through them, compared them to the list in his notebook. “Here we are,” he said. “I’m referring to the lift marked for identification as People’s Exhibit Six-J. It is the print I compared to the right thumbprint taken from the defendant, Kelly Clay Wilder.”
“And where was that print found?”
“It was taken from the doorknob of David Castleton’s apartment.”
“The front doorknob?”
“That is correct.”
“The outside doorknob?” Dirkson asked.
“No, sir. The inside doorknob.”
Dirkson let the jury see his smile of satisfaction. “Thank you, Mr. Riker,” he said. “That’s all.”
Steve Winslow rose to cross-examine. “Mr. Riker,” he said. “Were you present at the scene of the crime?”
“No, I was not.”
“You compared prints furnished to you by the Crime Scene Unit?”
“That is correct.”
“Then when you state that the thumbprint of the defendant, Kelly Clay Wilder was taken from the inside doorknob of David Castleton’s apartment, you are not testifying to what you personally observed. You are going by the information furnished you on the fingerprint lift. Is that right?”
“No, it is not.”
“It is not? How can that be if you were never at the scene of the crime?”
“I’m willing to explain if you’ll allow me.”
“Please do.”
“Certainly I rely on the information on the lift as a guideline, but I am not basing my testimony on it. In addition to comparing the defendant’s fingerprints with the fingerprint found on the lift, People’s Exhibit Six-J, I also compared it to the photograph of that fingerprint taken in place on the doorknob. I believe that photograph has also been introduced into evidence. Now I can’t swear to you that’s the doorknob of David Castleton’s apartment, since I’ve never been there-you’ll have to go by the testimony of other witnesses for that. But as to where that one particular fingerprint came from with regard to the set of fingerprints-well, I’m not taking the word of what anyone told me. It is my own personal observation that the fingerprint came specifically from the doorknob in the photograph.”
Winslow nodded, as if conceding the point. “Well answered, Mr. Riker. You yourself didn’t gather any fingerprints from the scene of the crime, did you?”
“I’ve already stated I was never there.”
“That’s right, you did. So in comparing the fingerprints found at the scene of the crime, you were only able to compare those fingerprints furnished to you, is that right?”
“Of course.”
Steve Winslow leafed through the photographs on the evidence table. “I call your attention to the photograph People’s Exhibit Five-N. Would you please take a look at it?”
The witness took the photograph.
“Do you see a computer in the upper left-hand corner?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Did you examine any fingerprints taken from that computer?”
“No, I did not.”
“So, if there were any legible fingerprints on the keyboard of that computer, you would have had no way to compare them, would you?”
“Objection. Argumentative.”
“Sustained.”
“Were there any legible fingerprints on the keyboard of that computer?”
“Objection. Not proper cross-examination.”
Judge Wallingsford frowned. “Overruled.”
“Were there any fingerprints on that computer.”
Riker shook his head. “I can’t answer that.”
“Yes, you can,” Steve said. “You can say yes, you can say no, or you can say you don’t know.”
“Objection.”
“Sustained.”
“Do you know for a fact, of your own knowledge, if there were legible prints on the keyboard of that computer, yes or no?”
“Objection.”
“Overruled.”
Riker took a breath. “No.”
Steve smiled. “Thank you, Mr. Riker. So you don’t know. I didn’t think you did. That’s all.”
“Oh, Your Honor,” Dirkson said.
“Exactly,” Judge Wallingsford snapped. “Mr. Winslow, you will avoid such side remarks.”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
Dirkson next called a handwriting expert who testified that he had examined ‘the note of the defendant’s address that had been found in the decedent’s pocket, and determined that it had definitely been written by David Castleton.
When the defense did not cross-examine, Judge Wallingsford took note of the time and adjourned court until ten o’clock the next morning.
32
“Did you type on the computer?”
Kelly Wilder frowned at Steve Winslow through the wire mesh screen of the lockup. “Yes, I did. Why?”
“Because if you didn’t, there’s no use my pushing the
point.”
“That’s what I mean. Why are you? What’s the big deal?”
“If there’s any chance at all, I want to be able to show you typed on the keyboard of David Castleton’s machine.”
“Why? What’s the point?”
Steve took a breath. “Sooner or later we gotta make a big decision. The decision is whether you tell your story. If you do, we need all the corroboration we can get.”
“What do you mean, if I tell my story?”
“Just that. A murder trial’s a funny thing. There’re no set rules. You can play it any way you want.”
Kelly’s eye’s blazed. “Damnit. Don’t give me half-assed rhetoric. Talk about me.”
“I’m talking about you.”
“No, you’re not. You’re talking bullshit. Now cut it out and give me a straight answer. Are you gonna let me tell my story? If not, why not? What the hell is going on?”
Steve took a breath. “Okay,” he said. “Am I gonna let you tell your story? Right now I don’t know. I know that’s no answer, but it’s the way things stand. It depends on what the prosecution does. But the way things look, yes, I am going to put you on the stand. You’re gonna have to tell your story and you’re gonna have to tell it straight, and then you’re gonna take the biggest beating you ever took in your life. Dirkson may not look like much, but so far you’re only seen his good side. He’s puttin’ on his case, those are his witnesses, he’s bein’ nice to ’em. You get on the stand, you’re in for a jolt, ’cause that sarcastic son of a bitch is gonna tear you apart.”
“I can take it.”
“Great, wonderful, I’m proud of you,” Steve said dryly. “But that’s not the point. Dirkson’s gonna make you look like a scheming, lying slut. If you can take that, bully for you, but in the eyes of the jury you’re still gonna look like a scheming, lying slut.”
Steve paused and ran his hand over his dead. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rough on you, but I gotta make you understand. The thing is, you’re so wrapped up in this you only see it from your point of view. You know you went up to David Castleton’s apartment to show him the disk on the computer. But you’re the only one who knows that. When you tell your story, the jury will be hearing that for the first time. They’re not gonna believe it unless it checks out.
“Now, the disk that you left with David Castleton disappeared. And the disk you left in your apartment disappeared. Which leaves nothing. A big fat zero. You’re telling your story with nothing to back it up.
“Now you see why I want to be able to show you typed on that keyboard?”
“I see that, but-”
“But what?”
“You say I got nothing to back it up. You’re wrong. I got Herbert.”
“Yeah,” Steve said flatly.
Kelly’s eyes blazed. “Damnit-”
Steve held up his hand. “Hey, let’s not get into it. Herbert’s your brother, you love him, you trust him, you believe him. Fine. I’m not going to say a word against him. But the fact is, in the eyes of the jury he’s a convicted embezzler and he’s your brother and his testimony ain’t worth a damn. Now that may not be fair, but that’s the way it is. The bottom line is, I need something to corroborate your story, and Herbert’s testimony doesn’t count.”
Kelly glared at him but said nothing.
“Okay,” Steve said. “Now, if you go on the stand and tell your story, you got one shot and that’s it. So it better be the truth. Every bit of it. You let Dirkson catch you in one lie, any lie, no matter how small, and you’re through. If we can’t prove everything you say, well, that’s all right. But if Dirkson can disprove any of it, that’s the ball game. You understand that?”
“Yes.”
“So I gotta know you’re telling me the truth.”
“I’ve told you the truth.”
“You did find a memo in the backup file?”
“Yes, I did.”
“And copied it?”
“Yes.”
“And gave a copy to David Castleton?”
“Yes, I did.”
“That’s the truth?”
“Yes, that’s the truth.”
Steve Winslow stared at her a few moments. He sighed. “It better be.”
33
When court reconvened the next morning Dirkson recalled Detective Oswald of the Crime Scene Unit.
After Oswald had taken the stand and Judge Wallingsford had reminded him he was still under oath, Dirkson walked up to the witness, smiled and said, “Detective Oswald. You recall yesterday you were asked if you had ever photographed the keyboard of the computer in David Castleton’s apartment?”
“Yes, I do.”
“And what answer did you make at that time?”
“I said I had not.”
“I ask you again if you have ever photographed the keyboard of the computer in David Castleton’s apartment?”
Oswald smiled. “Yes, I have.”
Dirkson raised his eyebrows. “Oh? And when did you do that?”
“Last night after court was adjourned. I went to David Castleton’s apartment and took photographs of the computer in general and the keyboard in particular.”
“I see,” Dirkson said. “And what was the condition of the computer and keyboard last night when you went to the apartment to take those photographs?”
“They had already been processed for prints.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Fingerprint powder had already been dusted on the computer and keyboard in order to bring out any latent prints.”
“Do you know who did that and when?”
“Yes. I did it myself on June twenty-ninth when I originally processed the apartment.”
“The powder was still there?”
“Yes, it was.”
“Did it show any latent prints?”
“No, it did not. There were several smudges on the keyboard, but not even remotely clear enough to classify.”
“But you photographed them anyway?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Do you have those photographs with you?”
“Yes, I do.”
When the photographs had been produced and marked for identification, Dirkson said, “That’s all.”
“No questions,” Steve said.
Dirkson then recalled Phillip Riker of the crime lab.
“Mr. Riker, I hand you these photographs marked People’s Exhibits Seven A-F and ask you if you have ever seen them before.”
“Yes, I have.”
“And just when and where was that?”
“They were delivered to me at eleven o’clock last night at the crime lab.”
“And what do these photographs show?”
“They are photographs of a computer and keyboard that have been processed for fingerprints.”
“Do they show any legible fingerprints?”
“No, they do not. There are smudges, but none of them clear enough to classify.”
“That is your expert opinion?”
“It is.”
“I see,” Dirkson said. “Now, despite the fact you say none of these smudges are clear enough to classify, let me ask you this. Did you make any attempt to compare the smudges in these photographs with the known prints of the defendant, Kelly Wilder?”
“Yes, I did. I was up all last night attempting to do so.”
“And could you tell us your results?”
“Certainly. I found a total of seven points of similarity.”
Dirkson narrowed his eyes. “Seven points of similarity?”
“That is correct.”
“Tell me, in comparing a fingerprint, how many points of similarity are necessary to make a positive identification?”
“There is no set number that is universally demanded. But it is generally held to be ten to twelve.”
“Ten to twelve?”
“That is the accepted standard. I consider it low, and always make an effort to find more points of similarity tha
n that.”
“But it is an accepted standard?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Ten to twelve points of similarity are sufficient to make a positive identification? To say that one fingerprint compares exactly with the known fingerprint of another person?”
“That is correct.”
“Now, in this instance you say you found seven points of similarity?”
“That is correct.”
“Now, according to your testimony, that is not sufficient to make a positive identification.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“Fine. But let me ask you this. Is it enough to indicate a likelihood? Can you say, well, seven is more than half the points required, if the fingerprint hadn’t been smudged there’s a good chance I could have found the other three to five points?”
“Not at all.”
“And why is that?”
Riker smiled. “Because ten to twelve points of similarity is the number required for identification in matching a single fingerprint.”
Dirkson raised his eyebrows. “You’re saying that is not the case here?”
Riker shook his head. “Not at all. When I say I found seven points of similarity, I mean I found a total of seven points of similarity among all the smudged fingerprints and the fingerprints of the defendant, Kelly Clay Wilder.”
“A total of seven?”
“That’s right. And no two were within the same smudge. I found seven in seven separate smudges. Moreover, these seven points of similarity did not match up with one of the defendant’s fingerprints, they actually matched up with five.” Riker took a notebook from his jacket pocket and flipped it open. “To be precise, two of the points of similarity matched up with the defendant’s right index finger. Two other points of similarity matched up with her left middle finger. One matched up with her right middle finger. One matched up with her right ring finger. One matched up with her left ring finger. And one matched up with her left thumb.”
“I see,” Dirkson said. “Now let me clarify this. When you say matched up with her finger, you mean matched up with one point of similarity in her finger?”
“Absolutely,” Riker said. “I hope I didn’t give the wrong impression. What I mean is there was one, and only one, point of similarity between, for instance, one of the smudges and Kelly Wilder’s left ring finger.”
