There it was, those guilty pleas. The hissing Fire Monster was glaring at the jury, and John Orr's lawyers knew it.
"These uncharged acts will be presented to you," she said, "to show that the Ole's fire was set as part of a common scheme, a modus operandi by which a distinctive time-delay incendiary device was used to set fires in similar types of materials at similar types of locations."
Mike Cabral, when it was his turn, addressed the jury to explain that the remaining counts of arson, counts five through twenty-five, mostly involved the homes that had been burned in the College Hills fire. He explained that they had finally charged the defendant with torching sixteen of the sixty-six, only those that had been burned to the ground.
After recess, the jury heard from defense counsel Ed Rucker, whose job it would be to convince the jury that the Ole's fire had been rightly called an accident. The towering defense lawyer immediately established that he was going to distance his arson count from the others that were being handled by Peter Giannini.
He said to the jury, "You're going to be presented with evidence of numerous fires. In an attempt to assist you in that, Mr. Giannini and I have divided the case up, so that I will speak to you only about the fire at Ole's on October the tenth, 1984. If I question a witness, it's going to be only a witness that has to do with Ole's. And this is a fire that took place fourteen years ago."
John Orr described Ed Rucker's style as "understated and gentlemanly." A great deal of delicacy was required when he said, "The Ole's fire was a tragic, tragic, fire in which four people lost their lives: a very young boy, his grandmother, and two young people. Tragic. If Mr. Orr is found not responsible for the Ole's fire, we don't get to the penalty phase, it's not a death-penalty case. So, no matter what you decide on the other fires, it's only the Ole's fire in which we're dealing with capital punishment, if you find Mr. Orr responsible for it.
"We're going to put on a defense. We're going to call witnesses. And we will attempt to show you that Mr. Orr is not responsible for this fire. In fact, nobody is responsible for this fire. Ole's fire was not an arson."
And then Rucker had to directly call attention to that hissing thing behind them.
"You're going to hear that Mr. Orr has admitted that he set fires. Now, this is a shameful thing. You'll hear testimony that he admitted in federal court that he set three fires, and was sentenced to thirty years. This is where your oath as a juror is challenged. Are you going to make the system work?
"We will present evidence that the Ole's fire was an accidental fire that started up in an attic area. This is not the first time that the Ole's fire has been litigated in court. There was a civil suit filed on behalf of the families of the deceased, and the case was tried, and what did they condude? Nobody testified that this was an arson fire. Nobody. They all agreed that this was a fire started by accident, probably through some bad wiring up in the attic area."
Rucker gave the jury an idea of how attic fires start and smolder, and drop down through the ceiling. He said that when oxygen is introduced there can be an explosion, also called a flashover. He talked about the sprinkler system, and the fire doors, and the general contractor, and circuit breakers. It became quickly apparent to the media that this long and technical dissertation on fire cause and origin was just a prelude to what was coming.
Rucker concluded with, "You're not going to hear from a single witness who saw John Orr inside that store that night. In fact, you're going to hear evidence that at the time this fire was first seen, John Orr was talking with another fire investigator concerning another fire. And I think the evidence is going to show you that this is not arson. And I think you're going to be confident to return a verdict of not guilty on this fire."
When Peter Giannini had his turn, the jury got to hear that voice, fathoms deep, a voice that Stefan Stein said was a trial lawyer's dream voice. He began by reminding the jury that his client was not a common criminal.
He said, "One of the things that you know is that John Orr was an arson investigator. Whatever else he may have done, he was an arson investigator. He was highly respected in his field. He was a teacher of arson-investigation techniques, and he was at a lot of fires. He was at thousands of fires."
Peter Giannini couldn't have appeared more unlike Mike Cabral unless he'd grown as tall as Rucker. He was slim, with dark hair combed straight back, resembling one of the bosses in Godfather //, but with an even better tailor. He looked like what he was, a prosperous attorney with a practice in Century City.
Both he and Rucker were older and more experienced than the thirty-eight-year-old prosecutor, but both were about to learn why they called Cabral the Bulldog. It was not just for his appearance, but for his dogged approach, the way he kept plodding forward, chewing up witnesses in little bites. A workingman's lawyer, never spectacular, never slashing and dancing away like the more flamboyant courtroom wolves that the public sees on television. He'd just take the blows like a bulldog does, with a blink, a shake of the jowls, and the resolve to lumber on, stubby tail wagging, until the opponent was gripped by unyielding jaws.
Giannini went through the fires he had to defend, and only the College Hills calamity had real media appeal. Giannini talked about the Teletrac and the prosecution's claims that John Orr was where he was not. And the defense lawyer tried to discredit claims that the incendiary device was a signature of the arsonist, but was rather a common device, so common that it was described in arson-investigation manuals. He described how feeble the witness identifications were, and then he got to the novel, something in which the media did have a real interest.
He said, "You're going to hear that John Orr wrote a book. And that the book is the prosecution's road map for this prosecution. There's no question that John Orr had access to fire information that is contained in the book. He's a fire investigator. He was present at some of these fires. The Ole's fire, for example, is described in the book. The fact that the incidents are in there does not mean that he set the fires. What it means is that he had access to the information.
"We live in L. A. Everyone's got a script or a book they're trying to sell. When you're putting together a manuscript, you try to put together the most exciting events that you can. The Ole's fire was clearly an exciting event."
And then it was time for this lawyer also to confront the Fire Monster, but he did it obliquely. He said, "I think the evidence will show that John Orr was a highly respected investigator. His opinion was valued by his colleagues. The evidence will show that he has been brought to justice for those fires that he's been responsible for. And that this final prosecution we don't believe will be proved to your satisfaction."
The first witness for the prosecution was Billy Deal, looking frail and older than his sixty-six years. Mike Cabral asked a few questions to establish that he had been at Ole's at 8:00 p. M. on October 10, 1984, and then he asked why Billy Deal had been there.
"We went there to buy some home-improvement materials," the witness said. "I was remodeling my home."
"Now, you said we" the prosecutor noted. "Who is we?"
"My wife and I and my grandson," the witness answered bleakly.
"Now, Mr. Deal, what was your wife's name?"
"Her name was Ada," the witness answered. "Ada Deal."
"Did she have a nickname she went by?" asked Cabral.
"Well, I called her Mommy," the witness answered.
And though fourteen years had passed since that terrible night at Ole's Home Center in South Pasadena, it came flooding back and the witness sobbed as he answered the questions of Mike Cabral. And so did many observers in the courtroom, especially when Cabral asked the witness how long he had stayed in the parking lot of Ole's Home Center on that night.
The witness answered simply, "Twenty-two hours."
Cabral's next question was, "Now, after splitting up with your wife in Ole's on that night, did you ever see her or Matthew again?"
"Not until I identified the bodies," the witness said.
John Orr's novel was addressed indirectly when Cabral asked his last question, "Now, prior to entering Ole's on that night, had you had a discussion with your wife and Matthew about what you were going to do after leaving?"
"Yes," said the witness. "As we were turning into the parking lot Matthew saw the Baskin-Robbins. And he wanted some goodies. And we told him we'd get him an ice cream after we got out."
"I have no further questions," Cabral said.
The defense lawyer knew he'd have to be very sensitive indeed with witnesses such as this one.
"Mr. Deal," Rucker said, "I understand it's difficult for you."
"Oh, yes," said Billy Deal.
"Any time you want to take a break, just let me know," Rucker said.
"I'd rather get it over with," the witness said.
Rucker got right to the ice cream testimony. It was dangerous for the jury to think that John Orr might have put the discussion of chocolate mint ice cream in his novel because he was at Ole's and had heard the child begging his grandparents for an ice cream.
So Rucker said, "The only time that you discussed ice cream with your grandson was when you were in the car driving into the parking lot?"
"To the best of my knowledge, yes," the witness said.
"You never discussed it in the store?"
"I can't recall," the witness replied.
"At any time you were out there in the parking lot, were you talking with people, family, friends?"
"My daughter came over much later," said the witness. "I don't know when it was."
"Were you talking to her, telling her what happened?"
"Yes, sir."
"Did you tell her you were planning to buy an ice cream for him and things like that?"
"I haven't the faintest idea," said the witness.
"Thank you very much, Mr. Deal," Ed Rucker said.
The jury at the moment must have been very puzzled by all the ice cream fixation from lawyers on both sides.
Former Ole's employees were called, and it was astonishing how vivid the memories were after fourteen years. Jim Obdam told his terrifying story of trying to lead Ada Deal and her grandson Matthew in utter darkness. And of the dense black smoke, and of praying, and managing to get outside where the flesh fell from his burned wrist onto the ground.
And Anthony Colantuano told of seeing his fellow employees Jimmy Cetina and Carolyn Krause earlier that evening, but never seeing them again. He made the jury understand how unbelievably fast a heavily fueled fire can move when he said that one minute he saw nothing and then the next minute, "I saw fire, flames and everything coming toward me!"
The jury heard from a provocative witness, the wife of a police sergeant, who testified that when John Orr got arrested she'd seen his photo in the newspaper, and she'd recalled having seen him in Ole's the evening before the disaster.
Rucker's questions were effective, but the witness was adamant, some might say too adamant for an event so far in the past.
He asked, "So it's been fourteen years since you've seen the man with your own eyes?"
"Yes," she answered. "It's been fourteen years since I saw him in the store."
"And you're one hundred percent sure that this is the same man?"
"Yes, sir, I am," she said.
She testified that she'd been on crutches at the time, that the man had almost walked into her, and she'd noticed he was wearing a basket-weave belt like police officers wear on duty.
Rucker asked, "Was the man wearing glasses?"
And she gave an extraordinary reply. "He was not wearing glasses at the time. He had sunglasses in the left front pocket of his shirt, and they had black wire frames."
Sometimes a witness's memory can be too good, so Rucker asked when was the next time that she'd had occasion to remember his face, and she said, "I saw his picture on television several years ago when apparently he'd been arrested for some other fires."
The witness then testified that after realizing where she'd seen the face before, she'd wanted to tell the South Pasadena police about it, but her husband had told her not to do it. She explained that she did not have a good rapport with "a certain captain."
"And had you made reports of your ability to identify people prior to that incident?" Rucker asked.
"Yes, sir," she answered.
"And had these prior reports resulted in you not being on such good terms with the captain?"
"Correct," she answered.
"How many other individuals have you reported that you were able to identify as someone you'd seen and later learned had committed crimes?"
"There have been two or three other large cases in South Pasadena where I have been able to tell the department that I'd seen individuals either committing a crime a week or two before they actually committed a larger crime."
"And is this based on seeing their photographs in the newspapers?" Rucker asked.
"One was. Two of them were not."
Further testimony revealed that the first time the witness officially had spoken with anyone about seeing John Orr was when her police sergeant husband got called to testify to Mike Cabral's grand jury and his wife had accompanied him there.
Of course, many media observers were thinking that her memory had been jogged by television or newspaper reports, but the witness said that the only television coverage she'd ever seen on John Orr was on the night of his arrest.
Then Rucker asked, "Had you read anything in the newspaper?"
"We do not receive the newspaper," the witness answered. "Our dog eats anything that comes near our yard."
The fire chief of South Pasadena, William Eisele, was called. Fourteen years earlier he'd been the fire captain who arrived a few minutes after the alarm was given. Eisele told of the event, about how he'd tried to enter and attack the fire. He told of seeing John Orr shortly after his arrival, and how the defendant had asked if he could shoot some photos. He gave important testimony about not seeing much smoke when he'd arrived, but his testimony would be attacked on cross-examination. He told of trying to ventilate the roof and of having to bring his man down due to the danger of the roof collapsing. And he described a second fire that had occurred at about the time of the Ole's fire, a short distance away at Von's Market.
After the noon recess Ed Rucker reminded the fire chief that at his grand-jury testimony he'd indicated that they hit the "seat of the fire," meaning the ceiling, this being a defense attempt to prove that the fire took place above the ceiling in the attic space.
And then to explain his client's quick arrival at the blaze, Rucker asked, "Mr. Orr showed up at the fire and you saw him there, is that right?"
"That's true."
"And was it normal for arson investigators from adjoining jurisdictions to show up at fires?"
"That's true," the witness said.
"You didn't find it abnormal for an arson investigator to take photographs of a fire?"
"No."
"And without some fire-fighting equipment with him, you wouldn't have sent him into contact with that fire?"
"No no no no," the fire chief said. "He was an investigator."
"And during the course of the evening, several investigators from the adjoining jurisdictions showed up, did they not?"
"We had investigators all the way up to the state and federal level that showed up at the scene. We had everyone there."
"It was your opinion at the time that the point of origin was in the attic space?"
"It appeared to be the southwest corner attic space. This is just what it appeared," the witness answered.
"And you felt it was a low smoldering fire that occurred over a period of time in the attic?"
"Those were the findings of the investigators," Eisele replied. "I used the information gathered from the investigators."
"And it was your personal opinion at that time, that the fire, after smoldering in the attic area, broke down through some point in the ceiling?"
"That would be my opi
nion," said the fire chief.
Mike Cabral later said of the witness's troublesome testimony, "I was just trying to get through it."
So far, Cabral's case was not going well, and the Fire Monster was silent.
During the second day of trial an investigator for Von's Grocery Company testified about a fire that took place at Von's, a few minutes from Ole's, at about 8:00 p. M. on the night that Ole's burned. He said that the morning after the calamity, he'd had occasion to speak with John Orr. The witness testified that the defendant told him that the Von's fire had been intentionally set by a smoldering cigarette.
Rucker tried to portray the Von's fire as another accident, or perhaps a diversionary fire set by juveniles who wanted to shoplift. But on redirect, Mike Cabral asked, "Did the defendant explain something to you concerning potato chips?"
The witness nodded. "About the volatility of the chips. The oils in the chip, and why the fire was so big in such a small area."
"Had you ever heard before of a fire in a potato-chip rack?"
"No."
"What about since?"
"No."
Ed Rucker had no questions on recross. The jury was going to learn about Pillow Pyro fires and potato-chip fires, so this witness had not been helpful to the defense.
The importance of potato-chip testimony was nailed down by the next witness, Dennis Foote, of the Los Angeles Fire Department, who'd been phoned by the defendant on the morning after the Ole's blaze. The witness testified that for four years prior to the Ole's fire, he'd been putting together information about a fire series in and around the city of Los Angeles that had taken place in retail commercial businesses during afternoon and early evening hours. He said that he'd investigated a fire at a store like Ole's, called Builder's Emporium, and that the fire had begun in the polyfoam section much like other fires he'd been tracking.
Fire Lover (2002) Page 26
