“Of course.” That meant that Louisa couldn’t testify about the butcher knife. Crap. I was going to have to get the officers who were examining the knife on the stand, but what did that prove? It was a butcher knife with Connie’s fingerprints on it. So what? Without Louisa’s testimony about it, there would be no way that I could establish that the butcher knife was found at the scene.
My heart started pounding again. The issue of the butcher knife still wasn’t resolved. The jury still couldn’t hear about the butcher knife being found at the scene.
This whole thing wasn’t going to be as easy as I thought.
LOUISA DIDN’T GET to testify until the next day. As it turns out, Vince had several more witnesses to call, and then I called Heather to tell her story. By the time all this was completed, it was 4 PM, and the judge decided to call it a day.
Heather’s testimony went as planned, but, as I figured, Vince was going to highlight the absence of the butcher knife.
“You said that your mother came at you with a butcher knife, isn’t that true?”
“Yes, that’s true.”
He walked dramatically over to the jury. “I would like to re-introduce Exhibit A, which is the police report. Could you please read it aloud?”
Heather read the report aloud, word for word.
“Do you notice the absence of anything on this report?”
Heather shook her head.
“Did you read, anywhere in that report, that there was a butcher knife found at the scene?”
“No,” she said. “There wasn’t a mention of that. Somebody must have taken the knife from the scene.”
“Motion to strike,” he said. “The last part of her testimony, as it clearly calls for speculation.”
“Sustained.”
He went back over to the jury and he handed them the police report. “Please read this,” he said. “And if any of you can show me where the words ‘butcher knife’ is mentioned, then I will eat my tie.”
The jury members giggled politely, as each one read the report carefully.
The last jury member handed the police report back to him, and he took it.
“I have nothing further for this witness.”
The judge then banged his gavel. “Okay, we’re all tired. I would like to recess until tomorrow morning. Ms. Ross will continue with her evidence at 9 AM. The jury may be excused.”
After the jury left, Vince came over to me. “It’s not too late to take a plea,” he said.
“Dream on.”
“I don’t know what your witness is going to prove, Harper. Even if she gets up there and says that the Reverend Scott was an evil genius who urged Connie Morrison to kill Heather, it still proves nothing. There’s still no butcher knife. There’s still no way you can show that there was. The jury thinks that Heather is lying, because no knife was found at the scene. Let’s just settle this thing for 30 years, no possibility of parole, and be done. You’re going to lose, Harper, and, after your stunt last week, the judge isn’t going to be kind to your client.”
I picked up my briefcase. “We’ll just have to see about that.”
As I walked away from him, my stomach was in knots. He was right. Even with Louisa on the stand, I still couldn’t establish that there was a knife at the scene. She could testify about the Reverend Scott brainwashing Connie and others to kill, but that didn’t prove that Connie attempted to kill Heather. All the witnesses were damning to Heather, as she apparently told most of them that she wanted to kill her mother. Some didn’t testify that Heather admitted to wanting to kill Connie, but these witnesses were still treated to scenes from Heather where she acted like a lunatic. None of the witnesses were completely positive for Heather.
I had a sinking feeling that this case was still uphill, even with Louisa.
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
The next day, it was finally time for Louisa to take the stand. She was nervous, because she had seen the Reverend in the courthouse that day. “He threatened me,” she said softly. “He said that he knew what I was going to do, and that if I did it, he was going to kill me by the end of the day.”
“Don’t worry,” I said. “We have Axel right here in the courtroom.” I pointed to him as he nodded to me. “He’s ready to go. He has an arrest warrant ready. He’s going to go down to the witness room and arrest the Reverend as soon as you testify.” The Reverend was waiting in one of the empty rooms in the courthouse. I told Vince that I was going to call the Reverend after Louisa, but I wasn’t, of course. I just had to say that so that the Reverend would be forced to stay in the courthouse.
“And if you don’t call him, I will,” Vince said. “To rebut your rebuttal witness.”
“Go for it.”
So, I was ready for Louisa. I only hoped that Louisa didn’t chicken out.
“Call your witness,” Judge Reiner said that morning, after the jury was seated and everybody was ready to go.
“The defense calls Louisa Garrison.”
At that, Louisa walked to the witness stand. Her sandy blonde hair was in a bun, and she was wearing a light blue dress and tan pumps, with a colorful scarf around her neck. She looked younger every time I saw her. I wondered if it was because she was so relieved that she was unloading her conscience. Or maybe it was because she was out of that oppressive church. Whatever the reason, she was looking younger and prettier every time I saw her.
“Please raise your right hand,” I said to her. “And repeat after me. I swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help me God.”
“I swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help me God,” Louisa said, and then turned her eyes to the ceiling, as if she was saying something to her God.
“Please state your name for the record.”
“Louisa Marie Garrison.” Her left hand nervously adjusted her scarf and she looked down at the table in front of her.
“Ms. Garrison, were you a member of the Church of the Living Breath?”
“I was.”
“For how long?”
“Six years.”
“Six years. What was your role in the church?”
“I was a member for three of those years, and a church administrator for another three.”
“A church administrator. What were your duties?”
“Clerical mostly, although I did assist the Reverend Scott with counseling the congregants on certain matters.”
I paced the floor. “Tell me about the philosophy of this church. Was the message that the congregants received from the Reverend Scott that of love and peace and the words of Christ?”
Louisa shook her head. “No.”
“What was the message of the church?”
She sighed. “The Reverend has a hatred for LGBT. An extreme hatred for them. Each week, his sermon consisted of highlighting incidents where a gay man was caught molesting a child, and then used these incidents to talk about how The Bible condemns homosexuality. That was the main message, although the church also talked about how women were inferior to men and how slavery was something that was acceptable.”
I looked over at the jury. They were listening with interest to her story, and I nodded.
“Were these messages effective?”
“Objection,” Vince said. “Calls for speculation.”
“Sustained.”
“Ms. Garrison,” I said. “What did the Reverend tell you to do with the parents whose children were gay?”
“Well, many of the parents in the church had gay children or trans children. If they were concerned about their children, which they often were, because of the Reverend’s sermons, he asked that I bring them directly to him so that he could counsel them.”
“What did the counseling consist of?”
“Objection, calls for speculation again,” Vince said.
“Sustained. Ms. Garrison, you may only testify to the counseling that you witnessed first-hand,” Judge Reiner admonished her.
She nodded. “I was in the room when the Reverend counseled these parents,” she said. “As a woman, he thought that I could relate better to the parents and they could come to me for guidance, which they usually did.”
“Okay, then,” I said. “You witnessed these counseling sessions, then, right?”
“Yes, I did.”
“What did these counseling sessions consist of?”
“Objection, lack of relevance,” Vince said, standing up.
“Your honor, I would like to remind Mr. Malloy that the Reverend testified that the message from his church was that of love and peace and that he did not preach anti-gay rhetoric. These counseling sessions directly contradicts the Reverend’s sworn testimony.”
“I’ll allow it,” Judge Reiner said. “But if you get off-track, I’ll stop you right there.”
“Thank you. Ms. Garrison, what did these counseling sessions consist of?”
She cleared her throat and her hand nervously twisted her scarf. She twirled the end of scarf around her finger as she talked, her eyes focusing on the ceiling. “The Reverend told the parents that they were to change their gay and transgendered children. He gave them referrals to a place that does conversion therapy, which means that these therapists use psychiatric methods to change these kids from gay to straight or from transgendered to…non-transgendered.”
“Okay. What happened when these parents came back in after that therapy?”
“The Reverend would have a follow-up counseling session with them. He wanted to ask them if the conversion therapy worked after the therapy was finished.”
“And if the therapy didn’t work?”
Louisa looked helplessly at the jury, and then at me, and then back up the ceiling. Her fingers drummed on the table and then her shaking hand went back to her scarf. She twisted the scarf around and around and around her finger. Tears came to her eyes as she furtively looked back at the jury.
“The Reverend told the parents that they must kill their children,” she said softly, so softly that I could barely hear her.
I looked over at the jury, and saw that they were straining to hear what she said.
“I’m so sorry, Ms. Garrison, could you say that a little louder and speak directly into the microphone?”
She sighed. “The Reverend told the parents that they must kill their children. If the parents tried conversion therapy and they came back in to speak with the Reverend, he counseled them to kill their kids.” Once she said that, she hung her head, and sob came from her. She started crying, and she didn’t stop.
I looked over at Judge Reiner, and I saw that he had tears in his eyes. He wiped them away, and looked over at the jury. “Let’s take a fifteen minute break,” he said to them. “While this witness composes herself.”
I looked over at the jury, all of whom were staring at Louisa, most of them shaking their heads. It was as if they couldn’t believe her testimony. I hoped and prayed that I was mis-reading them.
I handed Louisa a Kleenex and she took it, blowing her nose. Her tears continued to flow and she shook her head, over and over again. “It was my fault,” she said. “Those kids that died. My fault. I should have stopped it. I should have done something. I was just so scared. So brainwashed. I thought I was doing the right thing. Oh, God…” She started to cry some more.
I put my hand on her shoulder. “You’re doing the right thing now,” I said. “Your testimony here is going to stop this from happening anymore.” I pointed to where Axel was sitting, but wasn’t sitting anymore. “Detective Springer is gone. He went to find the Reverend and arrest him. Your testimony under oath here is what he needed to make an arrest. That means that the murdering ends today. Because of you.” I raised her face so that she could look me in the eye. “Because of you.”
At that, Vince came over to me. “What’s this I hear? You’re having the Reverend arrested right now? I told you I was going to use him as a rebuttal witness to Ms. Garrison.”
“You can still use him,” I said.
“When he’s under arrest and officially in custody?” Vince shook his head.
“Should I call Axel and tell him to back off?”
“No.” Vince looked defeated. “I’m actually not sure what good it would do me to call him, to tell you the truth. At this point, it’s going to be he said she said anyhow, and his further testimony won’t change that.”
“Thanks.” I turned back to Louisa. “So, see? Reverend Scott is going to be in custody, so he won’t be allowed to hurt anybody ever again.”
Louisa nodded. “But all those kids who died because of him. And I could have stopped it.” She shook her head. “I’m a monster.”
“No,” I said. “Not a monster. Reverend Scott is the monster. You were taken in by him just like those other parents were. You were a victim, too.”
The jury came back in and I looked at Louisa. “You’re okay,” I said softly. “Just finish this up, and we’ll get out of here.”
The jury sat back down.
“Ms. Garrison, I would remind you that you’re still under oath,” Judge Reiner said. “You may proceed, Ms. Ross.”
“Okay, Ms. Garrison, were you in the room when the Reverend Scott counseled Ms. Connie Morrison?”
She hung her head. “Yes,” she said. “I was.”
“Did he counsel her to kill her son, Heath Morrison?”
“Yes.”
“Is that Heath Morrison, there?” I asked, pointing to Heather.
“Yes. I mean, I guess that she goes by the name of Heather now, and she isn’t a boy anymore. But her birth name was Heath Morrison.” She smiled at me and I nodded. I knew that she had come a long way, because she was willing to accept that Heath was now Heather.
I couldn’t go further, such as asking Louisa if she had talked to Connie and found out if Connie was going to carry out the murder. I knew that she had, because she told me in confidence that Connie told her just that, and she encouraged Connie to do it. She felt horribly guilty about that, because she felt that she, ultimately, was responsible for Connie being killed. If she never encouraged Connie to try to kill Heather, none of this would have happened.
“I have nothing further.”
I sat down, and Vince stood up.
“Mr. Malloy, you may cross-examine this witness.”
He raised an eyebrow at me and nodded. “Ms. Garrison, did you ever ask Ms. Morrison if she was going to kill her son, Heath?”
“Yes.”
“And what did she say?”
“She said that she was going to kill Heath.”
I furrowed my brow, wondering what Vince was doing. He was asking the question that I couldn’t, because it called for hearsay. Why would he ask that question?
“I have nothing further for this witness.” He sat down and I looked at him. He smiled and shrugged his shoulders, and I suddenly understood.
Vince Malloy was helping me out.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
“Do you have any more witnesses?” Judge Reiner asked me.
“No, your honor.”
“Do you have any rebuttal witnesses, Mr. Malloy?” Judge Reiner asked Vince.
“No, your honor.”
“Okay, then, you may make your closing statement.”
If I had any doubt that Vince suddenly wanted to lose this case, it was erased when he stood up. “The defense waives closing statements your honor.”
“Very well. Ms. Ross, please make your closing statement.”
“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,” I said, looking at each one. “You heard testimony about a brutal murder. I admit that my client was guilty of killing her mother. But she had to do it, ladies and gentlemen. She had to, because her mother was going to kill her first. The evidence showed that Ms. Morrison feared for her life because her mother was going to kill her with a butcher knife. The evidence also clearly showed that Connie Morrison was instructed to kill Heather Morrison, the defendant, by the Reverend John Scott. Further, the evidence c
learly showed that Connie Morrison told Louisa Garrison that she, Connie, was intending to kill Heather. Kill her because of who she is, which is a transgendered female. Certain segments of society have told Heather that she’s a freak, that she doesn’t belong, that she must change. Her own mother agreed, and her own mother tried to kill her for her crime of trying to live an authentic life. Heather didn’t want to hide who she was, and she was almost killed for it. Think about that, ladies and gentlemen of the jury. Think about that.”
I sat down and looked over at Vince. He was smiling.
“Okay,” the judge said. He gave the jury instructions and sent them to deliberate. After that, they filed out of the room.
I went over to Vince, after the jury left. “What’s up with that? No closing statement, you got hearsay evidence in that helped me. What’s going on?”
Vince shrugged his shoulders. “I just didn’t feel like making a closing argument,” he said.
“Okay, whatever,” I said. Was Vince getting soft?
I went back to talk to Heather. “What happens now?” she asked me.
“We wait for the jury to return with a verdict. Fun, fun.”
“How long does it take?”
“It could be fifteen minutes. I could be three days. We’re going to hang out here in the courtroom until five o’clock, and if the jury doesn’t return with a verdict, we go on home. We’ll then be on call, so that when the jury does return, we have to come back here and hear what it is.”
I sighed. It was going to be awhile.
IT TURNED OUT, however, that the jury didn’t take as long as I thought they might. About two hours after they were dismissed to deliberate, the jury foreman came out. “We have a verdict,” he said.
My heart started to race, like it always did in cases like this. No matter how things went, the moment the jury comes back with a verdict was a scary, scary time. In a flash, my client’s life was going to change. All the work, all the preparation, all the hopes and dreams and everything else came down to this one moment in time.
Harper Ross Legal Thrillers vol. 1-3 Page 32
