PART 35

by John Nicholas Iannuzzi

  On the small screen were crowds of people huddled in the rain, standing on stoops, or on the sidewalk, outside 153 Stanton Street. There were ambulances and police cars, and policemen were moving into all the buildings. The camera panned toward and then focused in on a stretcher being carried out the doorway and down the stoop. It was placed in an ambulance, which then drove away. The camera panned the rooftops, then the crowd. There was a shot of Hernandez’s double-parked car, guarded by a policeman.

  “If you want me to turn the sound on for this stuff, I can,” said Sanford.

  “Not yet. When we get to a part where somebody is saying something, turn it on,” Sandro replied.

  The scene shifted suddenly to an interview with a city official who was explaining a parade planned for the next day, July 4th.

  “This hasn’t anything to do with your case. That’s the end of this reel,” said Sanford. “I’ll put the next one on.”

  The next images on the screen were dark. It was the interior of the police station, as Hernandez and Alvarado stood in front of the main desk of the Seventh Precinct on the morning of July 4th, 1967. They were surrounded by detectives, who in turn were surrounded by newsmen. Flashbulbs kept popping all around the room, illuminating it with momentary intensity.

  “Is there any sound on this segment?” Sandro asked.

  Sanford nipped a switch.

  “No. This must have been so noisy that they didn’t even get a sound track on it.” He kept cranking.

  “This is a good shot to see what condition they were in just before they left the precinct,” Mike suggested.

  The images on the screen were now in close-up. Hernandez and Alvarado looked around them, confused and disturbed.

  “Hold it right there. Can I look at that close-up of Alvarado again?” Sandro asked.

  “Sure. I’ll wind it back a little for you.” He started the close-up segment through the machine again. The camera moved in on Alvarado and Hernandez, who were facing the desk sergeant. The camera moved in closer, then skirted to Alvarado’s side. It stopped in front of the two men, close-up, watching them.

  “This is great,” said Sandro. “Could you rewind the film back a bit, to where the camera just comes alongside of Alvarado. See the side of Alvarado’s head,” Sandro said to Mike Rivera. “Okay, stop it right there.”

  Alvarado was suspended in profile as he looked at the desk sergeant.

  “That’s a great shot,” said Mike. The arch formed by Alvarado’s hair around the ear, the line at the bottom of his sideburn, and the hairline at the back of his neck were perfect, as if they had just been trimmed by a barber.

  “Now wind it forward a little, please,” said Sandro. On the screen Alvarado’s face now appeared in three-quarter view. Alvarado turned toward the camera, peering quizzically, directly into the lens.

  “And look at that moustache,” said Mike. “Perfect trim.”

  “Could you cut a couple of the frames from this film and blow them up to eight-by-ten still photos?” Sandro asked. “I’d take the film and do it myself if you’d let me, except it would destroy some of the punch of the evidence if I have it in my possession.”

  “Sure, I guess we can. I doubt that we’ll be using this stuff again. Besides, one frame isn’t going to make any difference. Of course, the still picture we get from this negative won’t be as sharp as an ordinary still picture.”

  “That’s okay,” said Sandro. “If it’s not as sharp as it should be, and it still shows a perfect hair and moustache trim, I can ask the jury to imagine what a really sharp-focus shot might have shown. Perhaps you can come to court and testify and explain all this stuff. And explain about the fuzziness.”

  Sanford shrugged. “Sure. But maybe you’d be better off with one of the newspaper photo files. They must have still shots.”

  “But here we can select the exact frame and angle that we need. Those newspaper shots are whatever they’ve got, and they may not have exactly what we need.”

  “Sure. The company’ll let me come to court. As long as it’s in the morning. I’ve got to be here in the afternoon. Let’s pick out frames when a flashbulb was going off, if we can. Those are the ones where there’ll be plenty of light.”

  Sanford found a full-face shot of Alvarado at the moment when a flashbulb went off. He couldn’t find a side view so well lit.

  “Pick out the best one you can find for the side view,” said Sandro. “I hate to be putting you to all this trouble.”

  “It’s no trouble. It’s ABC’s policy. Do you think you’ll want any of the moving film?” Sanford asked. “If you do, I have a small projector and screen I can bring with me to court.”

  “That’d be fabulous. You sure I’m not imposing?”

  “The city editor said if we have it, you got it. You got it!”

  “Can we roll the rest of the film?”

  Sanford continued the film. The crowd now moved out of the station house. Another camera outside picked up figures coming through the doors. First came the defendants, then the detectives, then more policemen. A captain made a statement for the camera. He said that it was police effort and teamwork that had captured the killers so quickly. The camera picked up more figures coming out.

  “Hey,” said Mike, “there’s Mrs. Hernandez.”

  Mrs. Hernandez, assisted by a man they didn’t recognize, emerged and walked quickly down the steps.

  “We’ll need that, too,” said Sandro. “That’ll prove she was there all night.”

  “Okay. That’s the end of this reel. One more reel.”

  Sanford set up the last reel and started cranking. On the viewer, Hernandez and Alvarado were leaving the basement of police headquarters and were being led to a waiting police van. The camera moved closer. A microphone was thrust into Alvarado’s face.

  “Can you get any sound on this?”

  “Let’s see.” Sanford snapped on a toggle switch.

  “Did you kill the policeman?” a voice synchronized with the lips of the interviewer on screen asked.

  “That’s Ron Roman interviewing your man,” said Sanford.

  “No, no,” said Alvarado on screen. “I didn’t.”

  “Do you know who did?”

  “No, no.”

  “Okay, come on. Get up there,” said an offscreen voice, as Alvarado stepped up into the van.

  Hernandez moved into the picture next. He didn’t understand the questions. He just looked blankly at the camera. When both defendants were in the van, the doors shut, and they were driven off.

  “That’s it,” said Sanford, as the last of the film went through the viewer.

  I’ll need this entire last segment,” said Sandro. “And the segment when Mrs. Hernandez, the woman at the end of the second reel, came out of the police station.”

  “Okay. I’ll put two stills together and two segments of the film. And I’ll bring a projector and a screen. And then you’ll want Ron Roman to come to court too, won’t you?” Sanford asked.

  “You been to law school?” Mike Rivera interjected.

  “No, but we’ve been through this kind of thing before. When do you need all this?”

  “Let’s see,” said Sandro. “It should be about ten days. I’ll have to call you when I know for sure.”

  “Okay. Just give us twenty-four hours’ notice, and we’ll be there.”

  “If there are any changes, I’ll call you,” Sandro said. “If there are any difficulties, I’d appreciate your calling me.”

  Sanford nodded agreement as he put the film back in the can.

  CHAPTER XX

  Monday, April 15th, 1968

  Dr. John Rider raised his hand and was sworn by the clerk. Sandro walked to the jury box. He went over the doctor’s credentials as an expert in narcotic toxicity by having him tell the court and jury of his training and experience with addicts, stressing his position as medical director of the detoxification clinic at Metropolitan Hospital.

  “Doctor, I am going to ask a hypoth
etical question. I am going to recite certain facts for you. I want you to listen to these facts and, after hearing them, I want you to assume that they are true, so that we may have your opinion within a reasonable degree of medical certainty.”

  Sandro then described Alvarado’s lack of past history of seizures or fits. He also mentioned Alvarado’s history of narcotics, the amount and type he had been taking before his arrest.

  Sandro asked the doctor to assume as true Alvarado’s story about the third-floor locker room, the punches in the chest, and the constant hitting of his head against the lockers, his falling unconscious. He included the objective, medical facts as diagnosed by Dr. Maish on July 9th, 1967—clonic seizure, Cheyne-Stokes breathing, unconsciousness.

  “Now, Doctor, I want to ask you if you would have an opinion, with a reasonable degree of medical certitude, as to whether or not the heroin addiction as described could be the competent producing cause of the clonic seizure and the other symptoms that were found by Dr. Maish on July ninth?”

  “In my opinion, the seizure and the unconsciousness could not have been caused by heroin addiction.”

  “Doctor, do you have an opinion within a reasonable degree of medical certainty whether any narcotics could have been the competent producing cause of the clonic seizure on July ninth, 1967?”

  “Six days after going to prison?”

  “Yes.”

  “In my opinion, no.”

  “Can you explain your opinion to the court and jury?”

  Heroin, Dr. Rider said, would not cause a seizure under any circumstances, no matter what the amount taken. Nor would any other narcotic cause a seizure after four days. Six days was too long for the seizure to have anything to do with narcotics.

  “I have no further questions.” Sandro returned to the counsel table. Sam leaned toward him.

  “That’s great. Now what is Ellis going to blame Alvarado’s condition on?”

  “I don’t know. But if he goes after this too much, he’s going to dig a deep hole, for himself.”

  Ellis began to cross-examine.

  “Dr. Rider, is it your medical opinion that narcotics—I will specify, heroin addiction—could not have been the competent producing cause of these medical symptoms that were described to you in the hypothetical question?”

  “Yes, sir, that’s my opinion.”

  “Is that on account of the passage of six days before the seizure, Doctor?”

  “Partly on account of the passage of time, but also, on account of other factors.”

  “What other factors, Doctor?”

  “Well, primarily, during withdrawal from heroin, patients just don’t have convulsions.”

  “You have never seen a patient who was addicted to heroin having convulsions in a stage of withdrawal?”

  “Pure heroin addiction, by itself, doesn’t produce convulsions.”

  “Well, you’ve indicated several years of experience in connection with drug addiction, Doctor. Would you describe the typical heroin addict when he is going through withdrawal? What happens to him?”

  “Objection, Your Honor,” said Sandro, “unless there is a qualification as to the extent of the habit.”

  “I’ll ask the doctor to predicate his answer upon the habit described in the hypothetical question,” Judge Porta said.

  “This habit we’re speaking about, I believe, is a six-dollar-a-day habit?” the doctor asked.

  “Yes,” said the judge.

  “Well, that’s not considered a very large habit. Some of the patients refer to it as a Pepsi-Cola or a Mickey Mouse habit. With a thing like that, the patients have, first, the usual restlessness and nervousness. Their eyes tear, they sweat, their pupils may be dilated. If they have a rough time of it, they may have some abdominal cramps. With a habit of this size, there wouldn’t be severe diarrhea or anything like that. All this reaches its peak within forty-eight or seventy-two hours after withdrawal, and after seventy-two hours the patient would begin to recover.

  “Now, six days later,” the doctor continued, “one might expect him to have insomnia—that’s a very persistent complaint. Many of them complain for weeks that they can’t sleep. Some of them say that they have a poor appetite, and they may be a bit restless. But there wouldn’t be anything dramatic, like a seizure, six days later.”

  “If the addict actually had a larger habit, in your opinion, would that make a difference in the withdrawal symptoms?” Ellis asked.

  “Not very much. With the quality of heroin in New York City today, it is very rare that one sees more than grade-two symptoms.”

  “Grade two, Doctor?”

  “Withdrawal symptoms are classified in four grades, one through four, four being the most dramatic. In grade one, watering of the eyes appears, as well as sniffling nose. That’s about all. In grade two, you can usually see restlessness, perhaps vomiting, together with the watering eyes and the sniffling. In grade three, there is diarrhea and insomnia in addition. In grade four, there may also be an occasional involuntary movement of the extremities. That’s where the expression ‘kicking the habit’ comes from. However, all the rolling on the floor and the climbing of the walls that is popular on television and the like is purely the psychological reaction, not the medical reaction. In other words, it looks good, or it seems that it looks good. However, in New York, I have never seen anyone, in thousands of cases, have more than grade-two withdrawal symptoms, even with the heaviest habits.”

  “Is there anything else besides addiction, besides a beating or brain damage, that might cause a clonic seizure, Doctor?”

  “Well, something similar, but not exactly, would be like hysteria or hyperventilation syndrome.”

  “Hysteria? Can you explain how this happens, Doctor?” said Ellis voraciously.

  “Well, hysteria is a mental condition, a mental disorder, and there is a form of it which is called conversion hysteria, in which the patient can show almost any kind of physical changes. Some patients have paralysis, some patients have twitches, whatever you like. It’s not based on anything physical. It’s based on the patient’s idea of what he thinks he should have and, a patient, let’s say, who had had clonic seizures or knew what clonic contractions were, might produce that kind of a picture by hysteria.”

  “And that could be faked or simulated, you say?”

  “Well, that’s not simulated. If it’s hysteria, then it really isn’t simulated. The patient is not completely in control of what he’s doing.”

  “But it’s not really a clonic seizure resulting from anything except the patient’s imagination?”

  “That’s about it.”

  “I have no further questions, Doctor. Thank you.”

  “Have you any other questions?” the judge asked Sandro.

  “Yes, Your Honor.”

  “Doctor, in order for a patient to have a seizure from hysteria, he imagines the symptoms he should have, and his mind thereafter causes him almost to attain them?”

  “Yes, it’s something like that.”

  “Well, Doctor, let me ask you this. Once a patient is or becomes unconscious—clinically, objectively unconscious—can a hysterical convulsion exist thereafter?”

  “No. It’s not really a medical symptom. Without his mind working to maintain the symptom, the symptom ceases.”

  “In other words, an unconscious man would cease to have a hysterical seizure?”

  “That’s right.”

  “And if it continued after that, you’d discount the hysteria and consider it a real, objective, medical seizure?”

  “I’d have to.”

  “No further questions.”

  “No questions,” said Ellis.

  “We’ve got him grabbing for the ropes now,” Sam whispered. “You knocked out the only thing he could blame the seizure on.”

  Dr. Fulton took the stand and was sworn in as a witness. He gave a long list of qualifications, including special consultation work for the district attorney of Kings County. Sandro t
hen posed his hypothetical question again, asking now if Dr. Fulton had an opinion on whether the alleged police beating could have been the competent producing cause of the seizure.

  “Yes. In my opinion, the described beating and the hitting of the head against the lockers could have been the cause of the convulsive seizure which the patient had six days later.”

  Sandro asked the doctor to explain his opinion. The doctor told what a seizure was, how it emanated from the brain, and how the hitting of Alvarado’s head against the locker could have caused a convulsive reaction.

  “Doctor, can an individual who is unconscious simulate a clonic seizure, with Cheyne-Stokes breathing, tachycardia, rapid pulse of one twenty per minute, rolled eyes, acute or exquisite tenderness in the epigastrium, and guarding and rigidity in the abdominal area?”

  “A patient who is unconscious cannot simulate anything.”

  “Thank you, Doctor. I have no further questions.”

  Ellis stood and walked to the jury box.

  “Let me ask you, Dr. Fulton, assuming that this person with whom we are concerned in the hypothetical question did not sustain the blows to the epigastrium and the blows to the head as recited in the hypothetical question, would the answer that you gave be different?”

  “Why, of course. It would have to be.”

  “And would you then have to look for some other reason to explain this apparent clonic seizure that was included in the hypothetical question?”

  “I would say so, yes.”

  “Is there any question about it?”

  “No, no, I would have to try to find the cause of any clonic seizure occurring in a patient without a history of a head injury.”

  “Now, Doctor, would you be good enough to tell us in your medical opinion, with reasonable certainty, what other causes would there be for an apparent clonic seizure as described in the hypothetical question.”

  “Well, there are multiple causes of clonic seizures. Tumors or neoplasms of the brain can cause seizures. Second, infections, inflammation of the brain, such as encephalitis or meningitis. A third cause is trauma, or injuries to the brain. A fourth is toxic or metabolic causes for seizures. These can be toxic reactions to illnesses, such as diphtheria or some forms of polio, or toxic reactions to drugs, or the withdrawal symptoms from certain types of drugs.”