Deep in thought, O’Hara rubbed his mustache. “But why would he call her? Why not just follow her?”
The realization had just flashed through Jamison’s mind. Nothing here was done without thinking it through. “For the same reason he did everything else. He called her so he could make it look like they had a conversation. He had to call her because she wasn’t going to call him. He bet she would call back. People can’t resist returning a missed call. The baby clothes, the tickets, all of it is to set up an alibi and use printed records as proof to do it. He knows we can’t attack records. So what you and Ernie have to do is figure out how he did it. The hospital phone records, all of it. And I have to buy time while you do it.”
“That’s all? We just have to figure that out today? You want it before lunch?”
“I know what I’m asking, Bill. Yeah, I want it before lunch. I want it as soon as I can get it, but I need it before McGuiness stands up in court and rests his case. And if we don’t get it, St. Claire is going to waltz out of that courtroom.
“But I have an idea about how to bring his little parade to a halt for a while. At least for most of this morning. I’ve got to go.”
Jamison didn’t have time to explain. “Just get those records for me, Bill. If anybody can, you can, you and Ernie. Just get it for me and get the answer from Ernie on those tickets.”
His yellow legal tablet was filled with circles. The Garrett case and the murders were intertwined. He knew it for sure, but how everything linked up was still lost in fog. He tried to focus on Garrett, but his mind kept coming back to the murders. He asked himself whether there was any kind of vehicle that St. Claire had access to at the hospital. Check the hospital, he realized. There had to be something. Jamison suddenly sprang out of his chair. “I gotta go down to court.”
What Jamison intended was to stall as much as possible with McGuiness’s witnesses, and then make his motion to introduce the murder cases. Everything would stop then so Wallace could hear his arguments. It would buy time, but would it be enough? Wallace might listen and he might not. So far the evidence hadn’t gone his way. And no judge was going to let Jamison bring in three circumstantial evidence murder cases unless he could make a better case that St. Claire was lying. He would have to wait for Ernie and then make his motion. For Jamison this was like waiting for a stay of execution when you were the condemned.
Minutes later he could feel the tension in his neck as he sat at the counsel table waiting for the next shoe to drop. McGuiness obviously couldn’t help himself. As he walked by he leaned down and muttered, “I tried to warn you.”
Jamison felt himself recoil, thinking, Prick. He shrugged, holding in his reaction.
McGuiness called one of the hospital records custodians to the stand. She had the logs of the calls coming into the hospital as well as the logs of staff checking in and checking out. Before she testified McGuiness stood. “Your Honor, to save time perhaps Mr. Jamison would stipulate that these are the hospital logs of October twelve and they show a two p.m. call from someone identifying themselves as Elizabeth Garrett asking to speak to Dr. Alex St. Claire. I also have the sign-in sheets for hospital physician staff.”
Jamison stood up. “Your Honor, I appreciate Mr. McGuiness’s concerns about time but I would like to question the witness so we will not be stipulating.” He could see the slight frown on Wallace’s face, but he didn’t care. He needed to delay as much as he could until he heard from Ernie.
Quickly McGuiness established that the sign-in log of the hospital for the day Beth said St. Claire surprised her at the mall showed Dr. St. Claire arrived on October 12 at 8:35 a.m. and checked out at 2:45 p.m. that afternoon. A separate call log showed that a hospital operator had put through a call to Dr. St. Claire at 2 p.m. that same day. The person listed as making the call identified herself as Elizabeth Garrett. It also showed that on the day St. Claire was accused of kidnapping Beth that St. Claire left the hospital at 9:32 p.m., the time he had testified he left to meet her after she left the Packing Shed.
Jamison preferred to make his point through cross-examination testimony. Beth had admitted she called St. Claire but it was after he had surprised her at the mall. Either St. Claire had somehow managed to create false record entries or Beth hadn’t been truthful about the time of her call, which was the point McGuiness was making.
When McGuiness wrapped up his direct examination, Jamison smiled at the hospital record custodian, Mrs. Lopez, then picked up the log books and made a point of examining them before asking whether it was possible for these logs to be inaccurate.
Mrs. Lopez reacted with consternation. “No, these are very accurate. We are a hospital. Records must be accurate. The doctors put it down themselves. They fill it in with their name when they come in, and then they put down the time when they leave. That way we have a record of who was in the hospital and when they left.”
“I see. But if a doctor put down the wrong time, how would you know?”
It took repeated questioning of Lopez to establish that when a doctor checked in, the time on the log sheet would have to be consistent with the times around it or an incorrect later entry would be apparent. However, the checkout times could be completely different. The checkout time for each physician did not have to be sequential because it simply showed when a doctor indicated he or she had left the building.
Jamison emphasized this point with Lopez, establishing that if St. Claire wanted to, he could leave without putting down a time and then return and fill in a time that looked like he had never left.
Maria Lopez appeared flustered. Jamison picked up the call logs. “This call log from October twelve shows a two p.m. call from someone identifying herself as Elizabeth Garrett and asking to speak to Dr. St. Claire. Is that correct?”
Lopez testified that if a person asked for a doctor, they would put the call through unless the doctor was unavailable.
“But no message was taken?”
“No, if there was a message we would have a record of it. The call log shows that the call went through to Dr. St. Claire.”
“I see. So based on your knowledge of the records, Dr. St. Claire could have left the hospital without checking out and returned in time to have received this call from Elizabeth Garrett at two p.m. and you would have no record that he was gone unless he put it down on the log for checking in and checking out?”
“That is possible, but that would mean that he hadn’t filled out the log properly.”
“I suppose that’s right, isn’t it, Mrs. Lopez? Thank you. I have nothing further of this witness.” Jamison hesitated. “Your Honor, I do have one more question that occurs to me. Ms. Lopez, if a doctor left by a back door, he could simply call and ask the desk clerk to fill out the checkout log for him?”
“Yes.”
“So, is there any record as to whether the doctor signs out personally or just calls and has the staff put down the sign-out time?”
“No. The log is simply intended to show what physicians are in the hospital. We depend on the word of the doctors.”
Jamison laid the log book on the counsel table in front of McGuiness. “Yes, you depend on the word of the doctors. Thank you. I have nothing further.”
McGuiness rose quickly, picking up the log book from the clerk’s desk where Jamison had left it. “Mrs. Lopez, you have never had a reason not to trust Dr. St. Claire, have you?”
“Oh, no. He is always very nice to all of us. Not all of the doctors appreciate how important my records are, but Dr. St. Claire does.”
McGuiness turned slightly toward the jury with his brightest smile. “Thank you.
“We call Dr. St. Claire’s assistant, Donald Wilson.”
Wilson sat uncomfortably on the witness stand. McGuiness quickly led Wilson through a description of his duties and then asked whether he had been to Dr. St. Claire’s home in town or to his home in the country.
“I haven’t been inside his home in town. I have been to the house out in the coun
try several times to deliver animals and lab specimens that Dr. St. Claire has worked on.”
“Are all of those animals alive?”
“The ones I take to his home have already been euthanized or have died for various reasons. We use all kinds of lab animals and only euthanize them if they are sick. Dr. St. Claire really tries to avoid killing anything unless it is absolutely necessary for the experiment. At the house he has an examining table in the garage. Sometimes I help him as he removes tissue. Then I take the remains back to the hospital.”
“Do you know why he doesn’t do all of this work only at the hospital?”
“Dr. St. Claire is a very busy man. He works in surgery also and his work in the lab depends on when he is available. Sometimes I apply anesthetics to different animals and monitor the results. He prefers to remove tissue himself and taking it out to the house allows him to work on it at his convenience, I guess. Oh, and I clean the area up when he’s finished. I know he’s concerned that his neighbors in town would be upset if they regularly saw our truck at his house in town.”
McGuiness smiled. “Thank you.”
From his seat at the counsel table Jamison immediately asked, “Your truck?”
“I guess I should call it a van. You know, we use the coroner van from the hospital and it makes some people uncomfortable.”
Pausing as he thought about the coroner van, Jamison decided to open the door. “What does the van look like?”
Wilson shrugged. “It’s dark colored and has Coroner written on the side. It’s basically like a cargo van, no windows.”
“Is it used for any other purposes than just by you and Dr. St. Claire?”
“Well, it’s the coroner’s van so they use it for picking up bodies for autopsies, homicide scenes, things like that. It has a radio. Of course, the coroner has priority on it if there is a body that has to be picked up.”
Jamison nodded. “Of course. By the way, does the coroner van have emergency lights?”
“You mean like a police car, flashing lights and stuff? Yeah, it does.”
“So in some respects it would look like a law enforcement vehicle?”
“I suppose.”
He made a note before deciding to shift his questions based on his memory of the garage after Beth’s rescue. “The garage has soundproofing on the walls, is that correct?”
“Yes, I helped Dr. St. Claire put it up. You see the space is like at the hospital lab. Animals make noise. They bark. He said he didn’t want to disturb the neighbors.”
“I thought you never take any live animals out to that location?”
“That’s correct.”
He thought about asking whether Wilson saw any need for soundproofing if he never took live animals there, but decided he’d wait for his final argument. He was about to sit down when something Wilson had said flashed in Jamison’s mind. “Mr. Wilson, when you transported animals to and from Dr. St. Claire’s house in the country, did you wrap them in anything?”
“Wrap them? You mean did I put them in anything? Yes, we use body bags to transport. We have some of the older ones and we use them. The coroner disposes of body bags after they have been used and we take some of them. Otherwise they are destroyed.”
“How are they destroyed?”
“They get burned in the hospital incinerator along with tissue samples and biohazard material.”
“Are you personally aware of whether Dr. St. Claire ever drove that truck?”
“I know he used it a few times. We keep a spare set of the keys in the lab. It isn’t used that often so we just borrow it.”
“And do you have a log sheet that you use to sign the van out?”
“There is a log, but usually I just say I’m going to use it for a while. I don’t sign a log normally. It just isn’t necessary.”
“You said you clean up at Dr. St. Claire’s house after he does his examinations. What do you use?”
“To clean up? I use disinfectants, basic cleaning supplies.”
“Do you use bleach?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you, nothing further.”
The next defense witness was a forensic criminalist who had examined the bloody imprint on the seat of Elizabeth’s car. It didn’t take long for him to testify that the imprint could not be positively established as having been made by St. Claire’s knife because it was smeared. Jamison had already been over it with his forensic people. The best he could do was establish that the defense witness couldn’t say with certainty that the impression hadn’t been made by St. Claire’s knife.
McGuiness stood, looking first at the jury before turning to Judge Wallace. “Your Honor, the defense rests.” He glanced over at Jamison and raised his eyebrows. Jamison didn’t need an interpreter.
It didn’t take long for Wallace to respond. “Mr. Jamison, you may proceed with rebuttal.”
“Your Honor, may we approach the bench?
Both lawyers crowded near the corner of the bench where Wallace leaned over. “What is it, Mr. Jamison?”
“Judge, I would like to speak to you in chambers. Perhaps we could take a recess?”
Wallace pursed his lips, looking at the clock in the back of the courtroom. “All right.” He turned to the jury and announced he would be conferring with counsel.
The judge led the way into his office, and motioned to the attorneys to sit down. “What’s the problem, Matt?” he asked.
“Your Honor, I would ask the court for a little time before we put on a rebuttal case. As you know we weren’t told in advance about the pieces of evidence that Mr. McGuiness produced and we are working on that. We have a few witnesses that we are going to be bringing in and I need to get them here.”
Immediately, McGuiness was out of his chair. “What witnesses? You haven’t given me any notice.”
“Well, I didn’t get any notice from you about baby clothes or the Queen Mary either, did I?”
“I don’t have to give you notice as to my client’s testimony.”
“No, you don’t but I shouldn’t be expected to respond immediately to evidence and witnesses I’ve never heard of either. The People have a right to a fair trial too.”
Wallace interrupted. “How much time? You know I don’t like to delay juries.”
Jamison could feel his stomach roiling. “Your Honor, I know that but we have only had one evening. I need at least a day or two more.” Jamison hesitated, swallowing the acid that was rising up from his stomach. “And I’m not feeling well.”
McGuiness snorted. “Well, that’s what happens when you find out your case is coming apart at the seams. I tried to warn you.”
Instead of replying, Jamison bolted for the judge’s bathroom. Both the judge and McGuiness could hear him throwing up. He cleaned his mouth in the sink and wiped his face with a paper towel before walking back in. His face was a pasty color and he looked like he might throw up again at any moment. Wallace shook his head. He wasn’t sure whether Jamison was actually ill, but he did look sick. “All right, Mr. Jamison,” Wallace decided. “I hope you feel better tomorrow. Please call my office this afternoon and let us know if we can resume tomorrow when you’re better. Let’s tell the jury.”
O’Hara sat across from Jamison’s desk in his office. “You actually threw up? How did you manage that?”
“I have no idea. Wallace was talking and that asshole McGuiness was rubbing my nose in the case. I was asking for time and I could sense Wallace wasn’t going to give it to me. All of a sudden I could feel everything coming up.”
“Well, you got to admit your timing was perfect. Can you do it again? We may need to stall.” Rumbling laughter came out of O’Hara’s throat.
“It isn’t funny. Anyway, we’ve got until tomorrow and that’s it. Anything from Ernie?”
“I got a note that says he’s going to call later. He did say that maybe we’ve gotten a break but the note doesn’t say what.”
O’Hara started for the door and then turned. “Matt,
why did you ask those questions of Wilson about transporting dogs?”
“Because, it suddenly dawned on me that if St. Claire’s lab assistant moved dogs in body bags, then maybe that’s how some of our victims were moved. It’s never made any sense to me how St. Claire could have moved those women and there wasn’t any hair or anything else in his car. What if he used the coroner’s van and just put them in a body bag? We never looked at the coroner’s van. I need you to get me information on that truck.” Jamison tried to restrain his anticipation of a possible break in the murder cases.
“Let me guess. You need it in an hour?”
“No, I need it yesterday.”
An hour later, Jamison picked up the phone. It was O’Hara. “Here’s the story. The coroner kept the transport van out at the hospital with the keys in his office and there was a log but the assistant out there said that if St. Claire’s staff wanted to use it they usually stuck their head in the door and said they were going to take it. The assistant admitted that sometimes he wrote it down and sometimes he didn’t and that St. Claire’s staff had their own keys. Oh, and there was nobody in the office at night unless they got a call to do a pickup. The van could have been used by St. Claire or even the janitor who cleaned the office and there wouldn’t be a record. There was another truck there that apparently was also used. It had a camper-type shell on the back and was dark colored with lights.” O’Hara had already called forensics to have them go over both vehicles.
Jamison listened to the rest of O’Hara’s speculation. The coroner’s van had emergency lights on it but so did the truck. Jamison sensed that maybe there was an explanation beginning to poke through the haze of confusion in the murder cases.
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