To complete the case for the People, Ray Bond recalled Queenie O’Hare to the stand.
Again she was in uniform. Dennis saw some jurors smile at her. They felt they knew her already from the first day of her testimony. Her face was open and friendly, her expression one of unassuming and modest competence.
The prosecutor took Queenie back to her first meeting with the Hendersons in Springhill.
“And did the defendant, in her own home, say anything to you about a pillbox?”
“Yes, she said she’d once owned a silver pillbox. She bought it in Paris many years ago—she wasn’t specific about the date. And she lost it. Lost the pillbox three years ago, she said, in Glenwood Springs.”
“Did you ever show her the silver pillbox recovered from the dog’s grave at Pearl Pass?”
“Yes, I did, here in Aspen.”
“Did she have any comment?”
“She said, ‘Oh, that’s mine. That’s the one I lost in Glenwood Springs.’ “
Ray Bond moved from there to Queenie’s account of the attempt to exhume the bodies of Susan and Henry Lovell, whom she believed at the time—and still believed, she said—were Jane and John Doe, and how the caskets were found to be empty. And in her judgment had always been empty.
“Did you make further inquiry in Springhill about this matter of the empty caskets?”
“I did indeed.”
“With what result?”
“I couldn’t find out a thing.”
“I don’t understand,” Bond said.
“I couldn’t get the local doctor or the local dentist to cooperate with me. The doctor, a Dr. Pendergast, said that as far as she knew—”
Dennis objected; it was hearsay. “Mr. Bond is asking for a statement made out of court. The doctor isn’t here to testify.”
“Sustained.”
Bond smiled. “All right, Deputy. Let me put it to you another way. After you spoke to Dr. Pendergast up there in Springhill, were you satisfied that she was telling you the truth about the cause of death of Mr. and Mrs. Lovell?”
“No, I was not satisfied at all,” Queenie said.
“Were you satisfied that the dentist, Dr. Brophy, was telling you the truth about the dental records?”
“No, I was not. I believed he was lying to me.”
“What made you feel that?”
“Objection,” Dennis said. “We’re going into the realm of pure speculation here.”
“Withdrawn,” Ray Bond said. As Dennis suspected, the prosecutor feared opening up the matter of the dental amalgam and out-of-date restorations: he had no idea where it would lead. And neither did Dennis.
“Did you talk to anyone else up there who might have shed light on this mystery of the empty caskets?”
“I talked to the men who dug the grave, and the men who carried the caskets—that was on the occasions of both funerals. These were all men who worked at the Springhill marble quarry, including the director, a Mr. Henry Lovell Jr.”
“Did you learn anything of value from any of those men? Anything that shed light on the mystery of why and how the graves came to be empty?”
“Nothing.”
“What was your impression after talking to the men, and to Dr. Pendergast, and to Dr. Brophy?”
“My impression was that they were all involved in some kind of cover-up.”
“Objection,” Dennis said sharply. “Pure speculation.”
“It’s offered not for the truth of the statement,” Bond said, “but to explain Deputy O’Hare’s state of mind at the time. What she thought, what she believed.”
“That’s fine,” the judge said. He looked at Dennis. “Objection overruled.”
Bond quickly said to his witness, “A cover-up regarding the true identity of the two people murdered near Pearl Pass?”
“Objection,” Dennis called again. “He’s leading the witness!”
“Overruled.”
“Yes,” Queenie answered.
“And you believe those two victims discovered in their lonely graves near Pearl Pass—those two human beings murdered by lethal potassium injection and half eaten by wild animals—you believe they were Henry Lovell and Susan Lovell, former residents of Springhill, is that correct?”
“Objection,” Dennis said. “What she believes is irrelevant. She can testify as to what she believes are facts, but not to her speculative beliefs.”
“Overruled.”
“Yes, I’m sure they were the Lovells,” Queenie said.
“Let’s move to the late morning of November thirtieth of this past year, Ms. O’Hare. Did anything happen around that time that’s relative to this case?”
Queenie related to the jury how she had driven from Springhill to Aspen in her Jeep, county vehicle #7, with Beatrice Henderson in the front seat beside her and Scott Henderson in the rear, for the sole purpose of fingerprinting her passengers.
“During that ride, did either of them say anything to you that surprised you?”
“Yes, Mrs. Henderson did.”
“Before you tell us what she said, Deputy, let me ask you this. Did you make any notes about the conversation we’re talking about?”
Queenie explained that when she reached the Sheriff’s Office in Aspen she had made handwritten notes as to what had been said. And then, with the aid of her notes, she had reported the conversation to Sheriff Gamble. At the sheriff’s request, a few days later she typed her notes into the office computer.
“When was the last time you consulted those typed notes, Deputy O’Hare?”
“Just an hour or two ago. They’re in the form of what’s called a supplementary report. It’s printed out by the computer. I have a copy right here.” From her lap, Queenie raised a sheaf of papers.
“You keep them,” Bond said. “Look at them only if you need to refresh your memory. And now tell us what, if anything, was said in your Jeep that surprised you.”
“Mr. Henderson and I had a conversation about the transportation problem in the Roaring Fork Valley. I asked Mrs. Henderson what she thought about it, and she replied that she had other things on her mind. I asked her, ‘Like what?’ “
Queenie glanced down at her report, where Dennis and others could see that some passages had been brightened by a yellow highlighter. “She told me,” Queenie said, “that she was thinking about poor Susie and Henry. She used those words: ‘Poor Susie and Henry.’ “
Bond raised his head quickly. “Susie and Henry who?”
“I assumed Lovell.”
“And what did Mr. Henderson say when his wife mentioned ‘poor Susie and Henry’?”
“He tried to stop her from going on,” Queenie said. “But he couldn’t. He told her to shut up.”
Bond looked startled. “He said, ‘Shut up!’? To his wife? He used those words?”
“Yes, he did.”
“Go on.”
“And then she, Mrs. Henderson—”
“Wait a moment, please, Deputy O’Hare. Before you tell us anymore—-was Mrs. Henderson under arrest at this point in time?”
“No, she was not.”
“Was she in your custody?”
“Not at all.”
“She was a passenger in your vehicle, on the way to getting her fingerprints taken, is that what you mean?”
“Objection,” Dennis said. “He’s leading her again.”
“Rephrase, Mr. Bond,” the judge said mildly.
“Deputy O’Hare, what was the status of the female defendant at that point in time?”
“She was just a passenger in my vehicle.”
“And after her husband told her to shut up, tell this jury what happened then.”
Queenie read directly from her notes this time. “I said, ‘Mrs. Henderson, if you want to talk to me about it, you certainly can. But I want to explain to you that if you make any kind of admissions to me, they could be used against you.’ “
“Did the defendant respond?”
Queenie lifted her eyes from
the papers. “She said she wasn’t supposed to talk about it, but what did it matter? Susie and Henry were gone, and she didn’t have much time left either. And then she turned to her husband—he was in the backseat—and she said, ‘You don’t either, Scott.’ She said, ‘I hate to lie.’ She said, ‘God may forgive all of us for what we did up there at Pearl Pass, but I don’t think he’ll forgive us for lying about it now.’ “
Queenie halted. Ray Bond waited too, to let the words reverberate in the jurors’ minds and sink into their memories.
“After that,” Queenie resumed, “Mr. Henderson succeeded in getting her to stop talking. He told me she was ranting. He told me she hallucinated out loud sometimes. He insisted that I disregard what she’d told me about God forgiving them for what they’d done up at Pearl Pass. Then he spoke to her rapidly and sharply in a slang I couldn’t understand. I’ve heard it’s a second language they have up there. After that she wouldn’t talk to me anymore. She closed her eyes and didn’t say another word until we reached the courthouse.”
“Did Mrs. Henderson seem ill to you, Deputy?”
“No.”
“When she spoke to you, was she incoherent?”
“No.”
“Did you have any reason whatever to believe that Mrs. Henderson was ranting and hallucinating, as her husband contended?”
“Objection,” Dennis said. “Requires the witness to draw a conclusion that she’s not professionally qualified to make.”
“Offered for state of mind, not truth,” Bond said.
The judge said, “You may answer, Deputy.”
“I didn’t think she was ranting or hallucinating,” Queenie said. “Not at all. I thought she was penitent. I thought she was confessing to a double murder.”
Dennis jumped to his feet. “Objection! I ask that the response be stricken and the jury so advised.”
Judge Florian said, “We’ll strike that from the record, and the jury will not take into account the witness’s statement that she thought Mrs. Henderson was penitent and confessing to a double murder.”
Or try not to, Dennis thought.
“Pass the witness,” Ray Bond said, triumphant.
It is always a problem for a lawyer to cross-examine a sympathetic witness who is also a hostile witness. If you cross-examine harshly, jurors are offended. You are a bully. But if you treat the witness gently, in the jurors’ minds that translates into a sense that you trust her. Moreover, if you are gentle, you might never budge the witness from the rock of accusation to which she has anchored herself.
Dennis rose to his feet. “Good morning, Deputy O’Hare.”
“Good morning,” Queenie said cordially.
“You and I are acquainted with each other, isn’t that so?”
“Yes.”
“And outside of this court we’re on a first-name basis, isn’t that also true?”
“Yes, it is.”
“But this is such a serious occasion that I’m forced to be formal—in the sense that I’m going to call you Deputy O’Hare. Will you be offended if I do that?”
“Not at all.”
Some of the jurors smiled. Such a nice young woman. Such a pleasant man, even if he’d been rude to Mr. Bond.
“And of course, out of fairness to my client, I’ll have to treat you like any other witness.”
“Yes, of course,” Queenie said, before Ray Bond could object. Object he did, though, hard on the heels of Queenie’s response.
“Your Honor,” he asked, “do we have to listen to this kind of banter?”
Judge Florian said, “Begin your cross-examination without any more prelude, Mr. Conway.”
“I will, Your Honor. Thank you.” Dennis said, “Deputy, do you have some papers there on your lap?”
Queenie glanced down. “Yes, I do.”
“May I ask what they are?”
“That’s a copy of my supplementary report. I mentioned it before.”
“And what does that report deal with?”
“It’s the report about the conversation between myself and Mrs. Henderson on the day I drove her and her husband down here to be fingerprinted.”
“Ah. Yes, of course. May I look at it?”
Ray Bond said, “He has a copy of it, Your Honor. He’s always had a copy of it. I don’t see why he has to see that copy.”
“That’s Deputy O’Hare’s copy,” Dennis said, facing the judge on the bench. “And I believe she’s made some marks on it, and some possible additions. She’s read from it during sworn testimony. Therefore, under the rules of evidence, it must be made available to opposing counsel.”
“Go ahead,” the judge said. “Look at it.”
“May I approach the witness, Your Honor?”
The judge waved him forward. There was a document to be consulted.
Dennis took the necessary steps across the well of the courtroom into the territory of the witness. But he approached softly, almost as if he were reluctant to invade and violate. The jury could see that.
Queenie already had the report in her hand and was extending it toward him. He took it from her and began to study it.
“Would you like to take a short break to go over it more carefully, Mr. Conway?” the judge asked.
“No, Your Honor, but thank you for asking. It’s all pretty clear. Deputy O’Hare …”
Queenie waited.
“This supplementary report is all your own work, isn’t it? In the sense that no one helped you write it?”
“That’s correct.”
“You wrote it first in longhand and then discussed it with Sheriff Gamble, is that correct?”
“Correct.”
“And then you typed it into the office computer?”
“Yes.”
“Had you written down everything that was said during the car ride that you thought was of significance?”
“Yes, I had.”
“And at some later point you discussed this supplementary report, of course, with the deputy district attorney, Mr. Raymond Bond?”
“Yes.”
“How many times did you discuss it with Mr. Bond and go over it? “
“Two, maybe three times.”
“Try to remember. Was it two or three?”
“I … I’d have to say three.”
“And on each of those three occasions when you discussed the supplementary report with him, was the report, or a copy of it, physically present?”
“Oh yes. Definitely.”
“So Mr. Bond has read, or looked at, your report at least three times that you know of. I mean, you’ve seen him reading it?”
“Yes, I have.”
“And did Mr. Bond tell you that he would ask you questions about the contents of the report when you testified in court today?”
“Objection,” Bond said. “That’s privileged.”
“No, it’s not,” Dennis said. “It’s full disclosure as to the preparation of a witness.”
“Overruled,” the judge said.
Dennis faced Queenie. “Did Mr. Bond tell you he’d ask you to quote from this report?”
“Yes.”
“Did he tell you which parts of this report he would ask you to quote?”
“Well…” Queenie hesitated. “Not in so many words.”
Dennis raised Queenie’s copy of the report before her eyes. “These yellow marks on your copy of the supplementary report—please tell the jury what they are.”
“They’re marks made by a yellow highlighting pen.”
“Who made those marks, Deputy O’Hare?”
“I did.”
“Why did you do that?”
“So that it would be easier to pick out certain sentences.”
“Do you mean the sentences you quoted to us here today in court?”
“Exactly.”
“Did Mr. Bond tell you which sentences to mark, and which to quote?”
“Sometimes.”
“You memorized some of them, didn’t you?”
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“Yes.” Queenie raised her jaw a little. “I didn’t think there was anything wrong in doing that.”
Dennis nodded in apparent agreement. “Did Mr. Bond tell you what questions he would ask you today, relative to this report?”
“He went over the parts of the report he felt were important. For example, there’s a part in there about Mr. Henderson’s having the seat track of his Jeep unbolted. Mr. Bond didn’t feel that was important.
He told me he wouldn’t ask me about that, and I needn’t mention it.”
“So you’re telling us that you rehearsed with him not only what he would ask you, but also how you would respond—is that correct? “
“Objection,” Bond said, rising. “The implication is unfair, Your Honor. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with preparing a witness.”
“Your Honor,” Dennis replied, “I didn’t say it was wrong to prepare a witness. Every lawyer prepares a witness to some extent. The jury is entitled to know that. Nothing hidden, that’s the rule. I just asked the question, ‘Did they rehearse what he would ask and how she would respond?’ Mr. Bond can take his witness on redirect if he’s unhappy with the way she answers.”
“Yes, he can do that,” Judge Florian said. “You may answer, Deputy.”
“I’m not sure I remember the exact question.”
“Did you rehearse?” Dennis asked.
“Rehearse in that context is a strong word,” Queenie said.
“It certainly is. All right, strike the question as phrased. Try this one. Did you go over on more than one occasion those parts of your report that Mr. Bond wanted you to quote here today?”
“Objection,” Bond said. “Asked and answered.”
“Did I ask that question?” Dennis said, surprised. “What did she say?”
“She said yes,” Bond snapped. “Yes, we went over certain parts of the report.”
“Did she say you went over certain phrases too?”
“I’m not on the witness stand!” Bond’s face reddened. “Judge, this is wrong! He’s baiting me!”
“Mr. Conway, go on with your cross-examination of the witness.” The judge lowered his head, trying to hide a rare smile.
“I’ll withdraw the last question too,” Dennis said. “I’ll ask another one, Deputy O’Hare. Did Mr. Bond tell you to exclude from your testimony before the jury those specific parts of the statement—I’m referring to certain remarks by Mrs. Henderson—that might tend to suggest she was innocent of the crime she’s accused of?”
Clifford Irving's Legal Novels - 03 - THE SPRING -- a Legal Thriller Page 20
