"What did you conclude from this?" Rudy asked.
"That Ms. Sheraton had taken pills from that bottle sometime before the fire started."
"Why are you sure she touched that bottle before the fire started?"
"The defendant's right hand was burned in the fire. We could not get a clear thumb print during our booking procedure because of her burn but she had been fingerprinted after an arrest earlier this year."
"I see." Rudy nodded sagely. "It is sad when someone will go to such lengths for drugs."
"Move to strike," Josie called.
"So stricken. Watch it, Mr. Klein."
Rudy barely acknowledged the judge as he went on.
"You also found marijuana cigarettes during your search."
"I did. One was partially smoked."
"Where did you find the marijuana, the Vicodin, and the matches?"
"I found all of these things in a small box. The partially smoked marijuana cigarette was in the matchbox. All these things were hidden in the defendant's bedroom."
"And did the matchbox carry any identification?"
"Yes, it came from the Coffee Haus in the Palisades village."
"The same coffee shop that was referred to by the lab technician?"
"Yes."
"Asked and answered," Josie objected.
"Could you tell if a match from that box had been struck recently?" Rudy moved on.
"Yes. There were marks and sulfur residue on the scratch strip of the box."
"Can you tell when the match or matches had been struck?" Rudy asked.
"Not precisely but the sulfur residue was fresh."
"Was there sulfur residue on the second box?"
"No."
"Were there fingerprints on the first match box found in Ms. Sheraton's room?"
"Yes. They were Hannah Sheraton's fingerprints."
"And on the matchbox found in the hall?"
"There were partials we couldn't match."
Rudy turned to Josie.
"Your witness."
CHAPTER 17
"What pills?" – Note from Josie to Hannah
"Fritz gave them to me. For when I hurt." – Note from Hannah to Josie
Josie took her place in front of the witness. Hannah's explanation sucked so she would have to run around the 'why' of the pills.
"Detective, after you found the box of matches in Hannah Sheraton's bedroom where did you put it?"
"I put the matches in my right pocket," he answered, shifting in the chair. He was an old hand and he did that to be comfortable, not because he was concerned about Josie.
"You put them in your pocket after you tagged them, is that correct, sir?"
The detective blushed. He knew what was coming.
"No, I didn't initially tag the matches."
"Then what did you do with them?" Josie asked, her brow beetling with curiosity.
"I put the box from the bedroom in my right coat pocket. The box from the hall table I carried to the car where I tagged them both."
"Have they changed police procedure, detective?" Josie asked.
"No, ma'am."
"Then correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't you supposed to tag and bag evidence where you find it to protect the integrity of evidence?"
"I ran out of evidence bags."
"So, let me get this straight," Josie said thoughtfully. "Instead of leaving the matches at the scene, going to your car to get the evidence bags and returning, you took this critical evidence with you?"
"Yes."
"And why did you do that?" Josie asked.
"So that the chain of evidence wouldn't be broken. I didn't want anyone else picking up that evidence."
"So you took a chance on contaminating the evidence rather than breaking the chain." Josie nodded as if she understood completely. She asked, "When you reached your car did you immediately mark the box in your hand?"
The detective shook his head. He shifted back to the other side of the chair.
"Not exactly. I put the box from the defendant's room in my right pocket while I unlocked the door to get more evidence bags."
Josie held up two boxes of matches before putting one in each pocket of her jacket. She moved toward the jury, speaking casually as she went.
"Then we can be sure that the box of matches from Hannah Sheraton's room came out of your pocket and was marked and set aside."
"That is correct," the detective replied.
"Just like that?" Josie held up a box of matches. "From your right pocket?"
"Yes," the detective replied.
"Let the record show that the matches I showed the detective were taken out of my left pocket." Josie faced the jury as she held up a small box of matches. "Perhaps the detective had the same problem with left and right on the day he collected and tagged these exhibits."
"Objection, Your Honor," Rudy called, "this is not a made for television movie."
"One more question," Josie said as the judge overruled the prosecutor's objection. "Detective, how do you account for the marijuana cigarette being inside the matchbox and hidden in Ms. Sheraton's room?"
"I don't know what you mean."
"I mean, in your expert opinion, do you think it reasonable that this sixteen year old girl could set a deadly fire in two places, return to her room, have the presence of mind to put her half smoked joint in the same box of matches she used to commit arson and take the time to hide the whole thing neatly under her mattress before running back and sticking her hand in the fire? Do you really think Hannah Sheraton could, or would, do that?"
"Sure, why not?" The detective answered with a shrug.
"Do you know that it takes a minimum of six and a half minutes to run from her room, through the house and to the west wing of the house?"
"I haven't timed it," the detective answered.
"Did you know it took the fire department three and a half minutes to respond to the alarm?" Josie pointed out.
"I read that in their report."
"And did you read that the fire was fully engaged when they arrived?"
"I did."
"And you still believe it is possible that Hannah Sheraton burned her hand, returned to the house, hid the matches without anyone seeing her, and returned to the scene so she could sit behind a fountain and wait for the fire department?"
"Maybe she runs really fast."
"Maybe you need to do the math," Josie snapped.
"Objection." This from Rudy.
"Withdrawn," Josie said with obvious disgust.
Josie took her seat; satisfied she'd given the jury something to think about. She only hoped that Rudy didn't point out there were at least three ways to get from Hannah's room to the scene of the fire and two of them took slightly under three minutes at a full run.
Rudy stood up and buttoned his coat.
"How many matches were there in the box found in Ms. Sheraton's room?"
"Twenty. The other box had twenty-five matches. The boxes are packed with twenty-five matches at the factory. I contacted the manufacturer and confirmed this. I also made notations regarding the count before I left Ms. Sheraton's room. Before I left the hall area I also made a notation of the number of matches in exhibit eleven."
"And would you examine exhibit twelve please?"
Rudy handed the man a clear plastic bag that he opened. He took out the box and opened that, too.
"There are twenty matches plus a partially smoked marijuana cigarette," the detective answered.
"Then I suppose it didn't matter what pocket you put the two pieces of evidence in, did it, detective. It is not as if the content of these two boxes was identical."
Rudy was done.
Josie made a note. She would collect as many Coffee Haus matchboxes as possible and count out every single one. She wanted the detective's history regarding evidence tampering and collection. She wanted it all before the defense had to present i
ts case.
On the third day, court resumed at one thirty. Mr. Hilbrun, proprietor of the Coffee Haus, took the stand. He was short, tanned, uncomfortable in his tie, and unhappy. The Coffee Haus didn't run itself. He should be working.
Of course he knew Hannah Sheraton. She came to the Coffee Haus all the time. Sometimes she was alone, and sometimes she was with a boy with crazy hair. Sometimes she sat in a corner and drew pictures. Mostly she just drank coffee by herself and looked out the window. She fiddled with things. Fiddled and fiddled. Drove him crazy.
Rudy asked. "Is there another reason Hannah Sheraton stuck out in your memory?"
"She ordered a small coffee and took stuff every time she came in."
"What kind of things did she take?" Rudy asked.
"That girl took napkins and those little wooden stir things. She took sugar packets and made piles of them on her table." Mr. Hilburn's face was flushing with the thrill of having a public forum to air his complaints about Hannah.
"What else did she take?" Rudy asked.
"She took matches all the time." Mr. Hilbrun waved his hand and scrunched his nose in disgust at her habit.
"Why do you remember matches in particular?"
"She orders a coffee for a buck fifty and then takes twenty boxes of my matches. Even if I stand there and watch her, she counts out twenty and doesn't get the hint. Kids don't know how much money it costs to run a business. Anyway, she doesn't even smoke."
Rudy crossed his arms.
"What did she do with all those matches?"
"Sometimes she lit them, blew them out, and left them on the table in rows. Like twenty little burned people," He pulled his hands out in front of him like he was pulling taffy.
"Your Honor," Josie groaned.
"Sir, if you would answer the questions simply." Judge Norris waved them on.
"The detective just testified that he only found two boxes of your matches in the Sheraton House. If Ms. Sheraton took twenty each time she came in then why do you think he only found two boxes."
"She didn't take all of them home with her. Sometimes she left them outside. Stacked them up like a little kid."
"Did she leave all of them?"
"Sometimes, and sometimes she took some with her. Kids, they don't know that everything costs. Napkins, matchboxes, lids, toilet paper, wooden stirrers." He ticked the items off his fingers.
"Thank you, Mr. Hilbrun," Rudy interrupted but the witness wanted to say what he had to say.
" . . . sugar packets, straws. . ." He shook his finger at Hannah. "If you take all of them, there's nothing left for anyone else. I have a business to run. That's not good. I told you. You should listen, little girl. You should listen."
Hannah stayed attentive to Mr. Hilbrun. She looked as close to beatific as Josie had seen anyone look, but under the table her hands were clasped together in a fist that gently touched the underside of the wood. It took Judge Norris three tries to get the witness quieted down. When he finally managed, Josie was given the nod. She stood up and cross-examined from behind her table.
"How many boxes of matches did people take from your shop last week, Mr. Hilburn?"
"I don't know. Maybe fifty. Maybe a hundred."
"So you had a hundred customers in your shop who smoked?"
"I don't know if they smoked. I just see the matches are gone, so I put more in the basket."
"So you couldn't tell me how many you give out in month or a year?" Josie raised an eyebrow.
"Not this minute," he sniped. "I probably would know if I looked it up and figured out when I order more."
"But it's a lot, isn't it? You reorder quite often."
"Yeah, a lot," he grumbled.
"Do you remember everyone who comes into your coffee place, Mr. Hilbrun?"
"I remember her," he said and pointed at Hannah. He was working himself up again, his cheeks were scarlet and his eyes sparkled as he warmed to his subject. "I remember who comes and goes in my place and who doesn't treat it right."
"Do you know if this lady has come in for coffee?" Josie indicated Linda sitting front row center. He shook his head.
"No, I don't know her." Mr. Hilbrun crossed his arms.
"How about the lady sitting next to her? Do you recognize that lady?"
"No, I don't know her neither." He barely looked but that was okay with Josie. She addressed the court.
"The defense would like to identify Mrs. Peterson, the Rayburn's housekeeper." Josie walked close to Mr. Hilbrun. "Would it surprise you to know that Mrs. Peterson stops at the Coffee Haus at least three times a week?"
"That's good," the witness huffed.
Another giggle from the jury. Josie smiled as if to say this all wasn't so bad, just a misunderstanding. She took her hands out of her pockets and pointed to the housekeeper.
"Would it surprise you to know that Mrs. Peterson has, at one time or another, taken matches from the Coffee Haus?"
"One at a time is okay." He was petulant, tired of being the center of attention. Josie had counted on his waning attention.
"And would it surprise you to know that Mrs. Peterson had a box of Coffee Haus matches in her car the night of the fire?"
"Why should it surprise me?" Mr. Hilbrun shrugged. "I sell good coffee. I should be selling coffee right now and not talking about who comes to buy. So can I go now?"
"Let the record show that the defense has identified Mrs. Linda Rayburn and Mrs. Peterson who lived at the Pacific Palisades home. Both had access to the hall table as well as the defendant's room."
"Hey, can I go now?"
Josie gave Mr. Hilbrun a small, perfunctory smile and excused the witness.
The last witness Rudy called on the end of the third day was the chauffer who had seen Hannah arguing with Fritz. Rudy was to the point. Josie's cross of Theodore Smith, a large, hulking man with a whispery voice, was short.
"You just testified that the defendant and Justice Rayburn were arguing? Could you hear what they were saying?"
"Nope," the man answered.
"Then how did you know they were arguing?" Josie asked.
"Her hands were going all over the place. I can tell when somebody is pissed, can't you?" He raised a bushy eyebrow. Josie ignored the question and the challenge.
"Did you know that my client suffers from obsessive/compulsive disorder, sir? That she often reaches out to touch something to make herself feel safe?"
"How could I know that?" He dismissed her with a toss of his head.
"Now that you do know, could it be that the defendant was simply trying to find something to touch. Could it be that's why she was waving her arms?"
"Calls for a conclusion, Your Honor," Rudy objected.
Point made. Josie took a tangent.
"Could you see both Justice Rayburn and Ms. Sheraton completely? Their full bodies? Their faces?"
"I could see the old guy's head. I was looking at her back mostly. Sometimes I could see her from the side"
"Then you couldn't always see both of the defendant's hands?"
"No, not always. She moved around a lot," Theodore admitted.
"So you really couldn't tell if the defendant pushed Justice Rayburn or touched him or, perhaps, tried to help him because he lost his balance? He was an old man, after all."
"He wasn't that old." Theodore Smith sized up Josie and nodded a couple of times as if to say no broad was going to trick him up. "That girl pushed the old guy. I saw him fall. I didn't see her try to catch him. That was not the way she was moving." He looked at the jury and warned them: "Don't you believe what she is saying. That girl pushed the old guy."
"Your Honor," Josie snapped. "Instruct the witness to answer my questions and move to strike that last comment."
"So ordered," Norris instructed.
Josie's jaw twitched in annoyance. She began again, drawing up to her full height, clasping her hands behind her back.
"You're a very
big man, Mr. Smith. If you believed there was an altercation, why didn't you try to stop it?"
"It happened fast. They were talking, and then he was on the ground. There was no time."
"Talking?" Josie reiterated. "That is a far cry from someone angry enough to assault another person."
"Arguing," the witness corrected. "They were definitely having a strong difference of opinion."
"Did Justice Rayburn call to you for help?"
The man shook his head and his chin dimpled as he drew it up thoughtfully.
"Nope."
"Did he cry out when he fell?" Josie demanded.
"No. But someone needed to help him."
"And why would you draw that conclusion?" Josie pushed. The witness bridled.
"Because he looked afraid," Smith said tightly. "And don't ask me how I know. I know afraid, and that man was afraid of her."
He pointed right at Hannah. He did so with righteous indignation. The rhythm of Hannah's knocking increased. The witness heard it too and his finger wavered the longer Josie remained silent. Finally he lowered his hand then raised it again to wipe his forehead seeming to question his own conclusion. Josie looked at the jury and mused at the witness.
"I guess that little girl scared you, too, since you didn't try to help Justice Rayburn until after she left."
"Objection, Your Honor," Rudy called. "Insulting a witness is not a question."
"Withdrawn." Josie sat down, smiled at Hannah and patted her arm. Hannah's eyes rested on Josie. Judge Norris called it quits for the day and, as soon as the jury was out of the courtroom, Josie asked one more question.
"I want to know about those damn pills."
***
"One. Two. Three!" Josie and Archer strained to lift the marble fountain and mount it on the side of the patio wall. Josie made the final adjustment. They both stepped back. A flip of the switch and nothing. No water spewed out of the little bird's mouth.
"Forget it. Just forget it. It's too late for this, Archer. Let's call it a day."
Josie sat down on the ground and surveyed the half laid patio tile, and the mounted fountain that wouldn't work. She could see through the open door to the dining room table where papers and files were spread among Chinese take-out containers.
"I can't walk and chew gum at the same time today." She sank to the ground, her back up against the patio wall, one leg up, and one stretched out. Sweeping up the can of beer by her side, Josie tipped it only to find it empty. Archer offered his and then put his hand atop her head. He ruffled her hair as he leaned against the wall and listened to her complain.
The Witness Series Bundle Page 13
