[Marc Kadella 03.0] Media Justice

by Dennis Carstens

  “No, um, I did not.”

  “Did you test Exhibit 1 for any carpet fibers from the trunk of the car?”

  “Yes, I did,” Leffler admitted.

  “You didn’t find any carpet fibers on the blanket, did you?”

  “No, I did not.”

  “You did not tell the jury this during your examination by Ms. Hart, did you?”

  “She didn’t ask,” Leffler said believing this would exonerate him.”

  “No, she didn’t, did she?” Marc said then quickly added, “Withdrawn, your Honor.”

  Marc went through the exact same routine with the remnant of Becky’s pink pajamas and the rope found tied to her ankle. The results were the same. No fibers from any of these objects were found in the trunk and no carpet fibers from the trunk were found on the pajamas or rope.

  Marc also went through the same routine of having Leffler admit this was also not told to the jury during the direct exam.

  “Mr. Leffler,” Hart began her re-direct exam, “isn’t it possible that there might not be no fiber transference at all?”

  “Yes, that is possible,” Leffler agreed.

  “Would it also be possible that after being in the river for two months, the river would wash away fiber transference from the items the defense attorney asked you about?”

  “Not just possible but quite likely,” Leffler said.

  “Nothing further, your Honor,” Hart concluded.

  “Mr. Leffler,” Marc said on re-cross, “isn’t it true that the odds of there being no fiber transference in the trunk of Ms. Riley’s car if the victim was in that car are virtually zero?” He was taking a chance with this question. He didn’t know how the witness would answer it so he was counting on the jury’s common sense to figure out the real answer would be no.

  “I don’t know…” Leffler began.

  “Yes or no, Mr. Leffler,” Marc interrupted him sounding impatient.

  The witness sat silently for a moment thinking about his answer then finally said, “Yes, I suppose that is true.”

  Connors called for the lunch break and while they waited for the crowd to dissipate, Maddy asked Marc, “How could they have missed that?”

  “Because the Attorney General’s office doesn’t handle enough of these cases. I guarantee you, if LeAnn Miller was trying it, she would not have missed it and she would have dealt with it,” Marc said referring to the Dakota County Attorney.

  When they returned from lunch, Barbara and Floyd Riley were not in attendance. Marc had guessed, correctly as it turned out, that the next witness would be the psychiatrist the state had hired. A lot of his testimony was going to be about the relationship between Brittany and Barbara so Marc discouraged her from attending.

  Judge Connors’ clerk came out and informed the lawyers that the judge was on a conference call. He was trying to resolve a dispute between two lawyers taking a deposition for a case assigned to him. Connors sent his apology and let them know he would be out as soon as he was done.

  When court finally resumed, Vanderbeck called the state’s next witness, Lawrence Randall. Randall was a sixty-four-year-old psychiatrist. He received his M.D. from Notre Dame and was a practicing psychiatrist for several years before realizing he didn’t really like listening to other people’s problems all day. He obtained a position with the University of Kentucky College of Medicine where he taught and wrote for twenty years. In his early fifties, he discovered the pleasure and profit of being a professional witness. Having put in twenty years and earning a full taxpayer-funded pension, he quit his day job and hired himself out to trial lawyers.

  The reason for going over an expert witness’s qualifications is to make the jury believe his opinion carries more weight. Following forty minutes of testimony about his education, experience, awards and publications, Vanderbeck was finally getting to the point. The doctor’s role was to explain why a seemingly normal mother would murder her daughter. Randall spent an hour explaining the various reasons why someone could commit this act. He offered numerous examples, most of which were related to postpartum depression.

  “That’s normally found in newborn or very young babies’ deaths isn’t it doctor?” Vanderbeck asked. This is a leading question but Marc did not bother to object.

  “That’s true,” Randall answered.

  “Have you had the opportunity to examine Brittany Riley?”

  “No, but I have done a thorough analysis of her medical and personal history and in my medical, professional opinion, she is suffering from PTSD, post-traumatic stress disorder as a result of the death of her husband. She is harboring deep-seated anger and resentment at him and life in general for leaving her alone to raise a child.”

  “In your medical opinion, could this cause someone to kill their child?”

  “Yes, in fact, there are a number of cases of this that have occurred.”

  “Would the person who did this, the mother, know that what she is doing is wrong.”

  “Of course. Hiding the body would be a clear indication of that.”

  “Would this also explain someone not reporting her daughter missing for ten days?”

  This, again, was a leading question that Marc could object to but Vanderbeck could easily rephrase it and get the answer they had rehearsed anyway. He didn’t object because there is no need to make the jury believe he does not want them to hear the answer.

  “Certainly, at least in part. It’s likely that she wanted some time to celebrate her new found freedom. And she was also in a state of denial that anything was wrong; that nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.”

  “Just a couple more questions, doctor. In your professional opinion is this common?”

  “I wouldn’t say it is common but it does happen.”

  “What about a mother-daughter conflict, doctor? If the child’s mother was afraid of a domineering grandmother, the child’s mother’s mother, could this be the reason for hiding the fact of the child’s disappearance?”

  “I suppose it could contribute to it, but as I said, the PTSD is the far more likely cause.”

  “Thank you, doctor. I have nothing further.”

  “I’m sorry, doctor, I forgot,” Marc began, “how much time did you spend personally interviewing Brittany Riley?”

  “It really isn’t necessary…”

  “Nonresponsive, your Honor,” Marc said without taking his eyes off of the witness to send him an unmistakable message as to who was in charge of the questioning.

  “Answer the question,” Connors told him.

  “None but…”

  “Yes, I know, you reviewed her history,” Marc said with mild sarcasm.

  “Did you interview her parents?”

  “No, again…”

  “Did you interview anyone that knows her? Neighbors, friends, physicians, anyone at all?”

  “Objection,” Vanderbeck said trying to disrupt Marc.

  “Overruled, sit down,” Connors told him. “Answer the question, doctor.”

  “No, I did not.”

  Marc continued to lean on the table top, his hands folded together while he stared directly at the state’s expert witness.

  “Because it’s not necessary, correct?”

  “Yes,” he steadfastly agreed.

  “Because you made a thorough review of her history, isn’t that true?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Who provided you with that history?”

  “Well, the, uh, prosecution. Mr. Vanderbeck, I believe.”

  “Did he leave anything out?”

  “Objection!” Vanderbeck yelled as he jumped to his feet. “How dare he suggest…”

  “Overruled,” Connors sternly said. “Sit down, Mr. Vanderbeck.”

  “Um, ah, I’m not sure. How would I know?”

  “Exactly, doctor. How would you know?”

  “Your Honor!” Vanderbeck yelled as he again jumped out of his seat.

  “Move along, Mr. Kadella, you’ve made your point.
”

  “You were a professor in the medical school at Kentucky until you retired at the age of fifty-two, is that correct?” Marc asked looking at a note in his trial book.

  “Yes, that’s correct. I was fifty-two.”

  “Have you been in private practice since then seeing patients?”

  “No, I have not treated patients.”

  Marc again leaned forward on the table, his hands clasped together on the tabletop, staring directly at Randall and asked, “You’ve been a professional witness since then, haven’t you?”

  “I wouldn’t put it that way…”

  “Stop it, doctor! Tell this jury the truth. You’ve been a professional witness for twelve years, haven’t you?”

  While Marc was drilling Randall between the eyes with this question, Vanderbeck started to get up to object. Before he had a chance to say a word, Judge Connors gave him a firm look and held up his hand to stop him.

  “Yes, I suppose,” Randall quietly admitted.

  “You’re now sixty-four is that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “In the past twelve years, since your retirement, how many criminal trials have you testified in?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I don’t keep a running count,” he said chuckling at what he thought was a little joke.

  “How about forty-six, doctor? Would that number sound about right? Roughly three to four per year.”

  “Yes, that is probably accurate,” he agreed.

  “And of those forty-six, how many times did you testify for the prosecution and how many times for the defendant?”

  “Objection, relevance,” Vanderbeck stood up and said. When he did this, his co-counsel Danica Hart cringed and Marc silently thought, “Thank you.”

  “Goes to credibility, your Honor,” Marc said without standing or moving his head to look at the judge.

  “Obviously,” Connors said. “Overruled.”

  “I’m not sure,” Randall replied.

  “Would forty-three sound right?”

  “I, ah,” Randall said as he squirmed a bit, “yes,” he conceded.

  “And for last ten years you have not testified in a criminal trial for the defense even one time, isn’t that true?”

  “If you say so, yes, it’s probably accurate.”

  “How much did the prosecution pay you to testify today?”

  “I am compensated for my time, I do not sell my testimony,” Randall indignantly answered.

  “I’ll rephrase. How much did the taxpayers of the state of Minnesota pay you to compensate you for your time?” Marc took a second to look at Danica Hart who stared straight ahead not daring to return Marc’s look.

  “Seventy-five thousand dollars,” Randall answered.

  “Plus expenses which included first-class airfare and a suite at the airport Hilton in Bloomington, isn’t that correct, doctor?” Marc asked.

  “Yes,” the doctor agreed almost too smugly.

  Marc silently stared at the witness for several seconds to let that news sink in with the jury. Since they were staying in a Budget Inn, the admission about the suite at a Hilton would be especially annoying.

  “I have nothing further…” Marc began. “I’m sorry, your Honor. On second thought, I do have a couple more questions.” Marc did this deliberately to make sure he had the jury’s attention.

  “Proceed,” Connors said.

  “Brittany Riley is currently under the care of a psychiatrist, isn’t she?”

  “Yes, I believe so.”

  “Dr. Lorraine Butler?”

  “Yes.”

  “As part of your review of Brittany Riley’s history, were you given the session notes from Dr. Butler?”

  “Yes, I was.”

  “And in those session notes was there a single reference to post-traumatic stress disorder.”

  “A difference of opinion between two professionals.”

  “Is that a no, doctor?”

  “Yes, that is correct.”

  “To be clear, there were no references in Dr. Butler’s session notes to PTSD were there?”

  “No,” Randall finally admitted.

  “How many hour-long sessions did Dr. Butler have with Ms. Riley?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Well, doctor, considering the amount of session notes you were provided, would you believe twelve hours is an accurate number?”

  “Yes, that seems accurate.”

  “So, Dr. Butler spent twelve hours with Ms. Riley in her office conducting individual therapy with her and you spent a grand total of none. Is that true?”

  “Objection,” Vanderbeck stood and said while Danica Hart silently wished he would stop making it look like he was trying to keep things from the jury.

  “Overruled. Answer the question, doctor.”

  “Yes, that’s true but…”

  “Nonresponsive,” Marc said.

  “Is your answer, yes, doctor?” Connors asked.

  “Yes, your Honor,” Randall admitted.

  “Leave it at that. Do you have anything else, Mr. Kadella?”

  “One more question, your Honor.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Isn’t it true that your belief that PTSD caused Brittany Riley to murder her daughter is totally based on the premise that she, in fact, committed this act?”

  “Yes, that’s correct.”

  “I have no further questions.”

  Before Vanderbeck could begin to attempt to rehabilitate their expert testimony, Hart leaned over and whispered in Vanderbeck’s ear. There followed a brief, quiet but heated exchange between them.

  “Redirect, Mr. Vanderbeck?” Connors asked.

  Reluctantly, Vanderbeck stood and said, “No questions, your Honor.”

  SIXTY-ONE

  The three lawyers left the judge’s chambers and made their way into the courtroom. The prosecution had one more part of their case to present and there had been another discussion about it before court began this Friday morning. They made a short videotape of the scene at the river’s edge where the body was found. The relevance of the tape had been argued before trial and Judge Connors was going to allow it. Marc had made enough of an objection to it for the record in case of an appeal. Having seen it beforehand he was not overly concerned about it but he didn’t want the prosecution to know that. He wanted to keep up the appearance that he was dead set against allowing the tape to be shown.

  During the conference in chambers, Marc admitted he would be presenting a defense. The judge looked at his calendar and decided they were going to take testimony on Saturday this week. He wanted to get the case to the jury as soon as possible so they could get back to their lives. Keeping a jury sequestered is hard on them although half of them were probably thinking about book deals.

  As the trial had moved along, invariably it had slowed down and the middle part was a bit boring. Over the past several days the crowd had thinned and the gallery had been barely half full. As Marc walked through the courtroom to the defense table, he looked over the audience and was a little surprised to see the benches were once again packed. Evidently, the prosecution had leaked the news that something significant was going to happen today. A sly, knowing smile appeared on Marc’s face as he took his seat next to his client.

  Judge Connors took the bench, gave everyone permission to be seated and told the prosecution to begin.

  Hart stood up and called the name Linda Johnson to the stand. A professionally dressed, slender woman of medium height and short dark hair entered the courtroom. She made her way up to the witness stand was sworn and seated.

  Hart had Johnson explain her occupation, experience, education and other qualifications to the jury. She was a photographer with the Minnesota Bureau of Criminal Apprehension. She was qualified as both a photographer of still camera photos and a videographer.

  Hart asked for and received permission to approach the witness. She picked up an evidence bag with an object in it, walked up to Johnson and handed it to
her.

  “Agent Johnson, I have handed you an object marked state’s Exhibit 17, do you recognize it?”

  “Yes, it’s a DVD of a video I made.”

  “The state offers state’s exhibit seventeen into evidence, your Honor.”

  “Mr. Kadella?” Connors asked.

  “Renew my objection as to relevance and prejudicial with no probative value.”

  “Noted. Overruled. You may continue, Ms. Hart.”

  “Agent Johnson, explain to the jury the contents of the DVD. What is on it.”

  Linda Johnson, a veteran witness knew enough to look at the jury while she talked to them. She explained to them that the prosecution had brought her in to film a demonstration at the site where the remains of Becky Riley were found. Johnson gave them a fairly detailed description of what was on the tape, when it was filmed and how long it was. When she finished, having satisfied the evidentiary requirements to validate the video’s authenticity, Hart passed the witness to Marc.

  “Agent Johnson, the date you filmed the video contained in state’s Exhibit 17 was Tuesday, October 8, is that correct?”

  “Yes, that’s correct.” The woman replied,

  “That was four days after the remains of the victim were found, is that also correct?”

  “Yes, I believe it was.”

  Marc looked at the bench and saw a deputy whisper in the judge’s ear. “I have no further questions, your Honor’” Marc said.

  The deputy stepped away and Connors motioned the lawyers to come forward. When they reached the bench Connors said. “I got a phone call I need to take. We’ll take an early break now.”

  On the way back to his table, Marc saw Maddy Rivers walking up the aisle toward him. She stood at the rail and when Marc got to her, she said, “She’ll be here this afternoon at 1:00.”

  “Perfect, thanks,” Marc answered as Connors ordered the break and quickly headed back to his chambers.

  When court resumed Hart called her next witness, Sunday Porter. A young woman a few years older than Brittany was shown into the court. Her resemblance to Brittany Riley was startling and a slight buzz went through the gallery.

  She was sworn and took the stand. Hart went through the standard, routine procedure of getting name, address, and occupation on the record. She was a part-time actress hired by the prosecution to take part in a film production. Porter admitted when she found out what it was about and what it was for, she felt a little odd about it. But needing the money, she had agreed to do it.