"Indicating it was a human body being dragged from the grave to a vehicle parked in the driveway."
"Objection. There’s no information about a vehicle. Lack of foundation."
"Well, it didn’t disappear into thin air," Judge Amagosian said.
"The object could have been dragged to a—a wheelbarrow or something," Nina said.
"No. There would have been scrape marks on the asphalt," said the witness. "The asphalt showed faint tire marks—"
"Which could have been made anytime. Maybe someone just picked up the body!" Nina said.
Balsam pinched his nose shut with his fingers, and said, "A body dead for a week? I don’t think so."
"All right," Amagosian said. "I’ll take the answer with a grain of salt, and you can get into this on cross-examination, Mrs. Reilly. But right now, I want to know what this witness thinks happened. He was there. He’s an experienced investigator. Sergeant Balsam? You think it was the body of Raymond de Beers?"
"Yes, Your Honor. The body wasn’t in the grave, and there was a human-size drag mark away from the grave into the driveway. It was heavy enough that the person or persons pulling the body had to go around the main dirt pile. It was the body from the grave."
"And your preliminary theory is that the body was then placed into a vehicle?"
"That’s right, Your Honor."
"Go ahead, Mr. Hallowell."
"Tell us about drag mark Two, Sergeant," Collier said.
Balsam took up his pointer again, like a high-school geometry teacher, saying, "This drag mark, as you can see, extends from a rock, this dark triangle here on the other side of the grave, all the way around the grave, around the same pile of dirt on the other side, and in a line almost parallel to drag mark One, in a southerly direction to the edge of the driveway. The width is also about two to three feet."
"Indicating?"
"A second body. Dragged from the area by the rock, around the grave site, to the driveway and the same vehicle, or at least one parked in the same spot. Also, since it was dragged around the pile of dirt, it must have been dragged after the grave was dug up."
"Could you say which body was dragged first?" Collier asked.
"No. The lines never cross. I can only say that both of the marks occurred after the digging."
"Now, you have some marks indicating the areas of trampled footprints."
"Yes, sir."
"Were there footprints between the bushy area just beyond the fence, and the rock?"
"Yes, sir. Mostly around the rock, but some partial footprints leading from the bushes. Also, there was the double round impression behind the bushes, which I took to be knee prints."
"How do you know the footprints were leading from the bushes, not toward the bushes?"
"We saw a couple of toe marks leading toward the rock. Men’s shoes, I’d say."
"Objection!"
"Would you like to explain that statement that they were men’s shoes, Officer?" Judge Amagosian said.
"Round-toed. Larger than my feet, and I wear a men’s eleven. On a woman those would be some jumbo feet."
"I’ll withdraw my objection, with that clarification," Nina said with dignity, though Collier was smiling.
"And the footprints became more disturbed near the rock?"
"Yes. I’d say so. A great many deep heel marks showed up somewhat randomly, here and there as if somebody was off balance. But the land is mostly grass there and the dew hadn’t fallen when all this was going on, so we couldn’t get photos or casts that would do us any good."
"You’re referring now to the subsequent forensics work undertaken by other law enforcement personnel?"
"Yes, sir."
"Okay, let’s put this together. As to the footprints between the bushes, the knee prints behind the bushes, and numerous footprints around the rock, do you have any preliminary theory as to how those foot marks occurred?"
"Objection. Lack of foundation," Nina said. "Calls for speculation. Calls for a conclusion."
"Overruled," Amagosian said. "Let’s hear what he thinks."
"I can answer?" Balsam said. The judge nodded, and Balsam went on: "As I see it, someone was kneeling behind the bushes, watching while somebody else dug up the body in the grave. Then the first person was discovered, or came out, and went toward the grave. Right at the rock area a struggle occurred, and one of them hit the other with a shovel. The one who was hit went down within a foot or two of the rock. The winner dragged both bodies into a vehicle in the driveway and drove off."
Nina was chewing on Balsam’s reconstruction.
Collier paused to let Amagosian catch up with his notes. A court reporter was taking it all down, but a transcript took time to prepare, and the judge’s notes would highlight the evidence he found most important.
"All right. Now, Sergeant..." Sergeant Balsam had been looking down at his reports. With his fuzzy bullet-shaped head and lined face he looked like a grizzled marine, not a gambling addict in constant danger of suspension. "You have in front of you a report regarding fingerprint testing prepared by forensics technicians of the South Lake Tahoe police department?"
"I take it you have a copy of the report referred to?" Judge Amagosian said to Nina.
"Yes, Your Honor."
"Any problem putting it into evidence? I’d like to be able to refer to it if need be," Amagosian said.
Nina hesitated. The judge was leaning on her. It was bad enough that Balsam could testify about his colleagues’ conclusions. To let Amagosian have the report without being able to cross-examine the technicians who had written it would be stupid.
She got up and said in the most humble tone she could muster, "I’m sorry, Your Honor. But I’m not comfortable stipulating to putting in this hearsay report without having the chance to examine the lab techs who were involved." Her reward was a change in the weather of Amagosian’s complexion, a slight darkening noticeable only to those watching for it.
"Bring the techs in yourself later, if you really want to," the judge said. "You said you wanted to put on witnesses, anyway."
"But I don’t want to bring in police employees as hostile witnesses in the defense case, Your Honor," Nina said. "Last time I checked, I had control over which witnesses I choose to put on, even in this somewhat informal proceeding."
"You object to the Court taking into evidence the pertinent reports? I always take them home and read them. I find them helpful."
"I would have to object to that, Your Honor. The relaxation of the hearsay rule in a preliminary hearing doesn’t mean every scrap of paper connected with the case can go into evidence."
In the complete silence that followed, the courtroom watched Amagosian’s face boil into deep crimson and his eyes bulge slightly. Paul lifted his shoulders and seemed to duck his head inside them like a turtle. Collier, too, fell into a defensive pose, putting one hand up as if to shield himself, shading his eyes. Jason stared at her, the panic confined to his eyes all the more intense by being so concentrated.
Amagosian put his pencil down very slowly. The sound of it rolling across the wooden surface toward the edge was like the sound of a tree falling in the forest with the whole wide world listening anxiously for its dreadful and thundering final moment. With a clatter, the pencil fell onto the floor beside the judge’s bench.
"We will now take our midmorning break," the judge said in a velvety tone, reserving an intent and baleful look for Nina alone. "Mrs. Reilly, I’d suggest you reconsider your position during the break."
As the courtroom cleared for the fifteen-minute break, Deputy Kimura came up to take Jason into the holding area, and Jason said to Nina, "That didn’t take long."
"Ah, well," Paul said. "I’ve heard that when you’re bitten by a big white shark, for instance, you don’t feel a thing. You just keep swimming with that leg you don’t even have anymore."
Jason disappeared into the holding room, and they walked outside into the mellow autumn sunlight.
Nina bu
rst out, "It’s never the problem you expect, Paul. How come I have to get in a fight with the judge on this extraneous BS right at the beginning? He leaned on me. I mean, all judges lean, but I can’t just let Collier hand him all the police reports to take home tonight. Those things are full of junk, hearsay upon hearsay, speculations and so on.... What’s the point of Jason having a lawyer if all the judge is going to do is read the reports and say, bang, there appears to be probable cause?"
"I think you’re right. The written word outweighs the spoken word in the minds of you legal people. And there are a lot of reports. You give him this one, you give him all of them. Want some coffee?"
"I need to look over some notes."
"I’ll bring it to you. It’s the least I can do. I’m not much help in there. Milk, no sugar, right?"
Paul went down the stairs and Nina went into the women’s bathroom.
In the cubicle, the final refuge of female lawyers, she composed her clothes and her expression. Then she washed her hands and brushed her long hair before the mirror. These small domestic acts, mindlessly performed, soothed her. She was worried about many things, though, and they all showed up in her eyes.
Collier would be feeling the pressure just as heavily. If she had her way he’d never get past the prelim, and after the resultant publicity, he could kiss the district attorney position good-bye. He’d be slaving away in the trial trenches for several more years at least. He’d tell her it was all right, but it wouldn’t be. He would blame her. How could he not? She’d win one battle, and lose another equally important one.
"Before you worry about all you’re going to lose if your long shot pays off, better get out there and win," she murmured to herself, then stepped outside to the Mirror’s reporter and Paul’s hot coffee.
"Mrs. Reilly? Your position as to the admission of the fingerprint reports into evidence?" Amagosian said, starting right in as soon as he took the bench.
"Your Honor," Nina said, "think about it this way. I don’t have any reports to give you. I don’t have a police department and a set of experts on salary back at my office. I haven’t talked to the officer who prepared the reports, because Mr. Hallowell didn’t subpoena him and I knew he would not be a witness.
"With Sergeant Balsam here, Mr. Hallowell and I are on a level playing field. He gives the gist of the hearsay report, and the court gives it the proper weight, which is that it is a report of a hearsay document. But if the Court accepts and studies the written report, that report will naturally have a weightier impact.
"This is a matter of fundamental fairness, Your Honor. Of course my client and I both know we can expect the utmost fairness from this Court, but if Mr. Hallowell plans to make his case based on fingerprint evidence, then he needs to bring in the fingerprint witnesses, Your Honor. If my client’s immediate and distant future depend on Mr. Hallowell’s fingerprint witnesses, then let me examine the witnesses. That would be fair."
She knew that Amagosian prided himself on his reputation for fairness, so she had used the word over and over. He listened impatiently at first, but at some point the words took hold and began to carry him along with her.
"Mr. Hallowell?" he said. "Why didn’t you subpoena the forensic lab technician who prepared the fingerprint report?"
"Because we are only looking at probable cause, Your Honor," Collier said smoothly. "Ms. Reilly would love to have me bring in everyone involved in the investigation so she can dig around looking for mistakes, but I don’t have to do that. Unlike her, I trust this Court to be able to assess the report critically, understanding that it is a hearsay document—"
"On the other hand, I suppose that something I read right before I turn off the light at night might assume a little more importance than it should," Amagosian said, as if to himself "I think I will ... yes, as a matter of fairness, the Court will get along without the report. Proceed, Mr. Hallowell."
Nina let herself breathe again, Paul smiled, and Jason leaned his head close to hers and said, "Good, Nina."
Sergeant Balsam had taken the stand again, and Collier shrugged, saying, "Okay, Sergeant, you have the forensics report on fingerprints taken at the crime scene and analyzed by technicians associated with the South Lake Tahoe police department?"
"I have the report here."
"What, if any, fingerprints were recovered at the crime scene, based on that report?"
"Fingerprinting was done on the backhoe controls, the shovel handle, and the lock on the shed. The lock on the shed did not yield anything identifiable, and it was an outdoor scene, without any other good surfaces for taking prints."
"And was an expedited analysis of any fingerprints lifted from the backhoe and the shovel made by the department?"
"Yes, sir. There are still some partials that they haven’t had time to try to match, but they have a clear thumb and forefinger on the shovel. No luck with the backhoe—too much dirt and rubbing on the controls. No blood on the fingerprints on the shovel, by the way."
"Were any of these prints identified?"
"Yes, sir. They were matched against the prints of the defendant, Jason de Beers, on file at the Department of Motor Vehicles. He applied for a driver’s license the day he turned sixteen and his prints were taken at that time." Jason muttered something and Nina put a warning hand on his arm.
"How long did this process of identifying the defendant’s prints take?"
"It says here within two days. We were in a hurry. The sheriff’s office had found the bodies of Quentin de Beers and Raymond de Beers in a burning cabin at Wright’s Lake...."
"We’ll get more into that with the next witness," Collier said.
"What was the next step taken by the South Lake Tahoe police department?" The question was vague, but Nina owed Amagosian, and she knew it. She would object now only if it was absolutely necessary. She kept her mouth shut.
"I was contacted with that information, and I attempted to locate the defendant. I went to the address listed on his application for the license and talked to his mother, Sarah de Beers. She informed me that Jason was staying with a friend by the name of Kenny Munger. I located Mr. Munger’s address and talked to him, but he indicated he had not seen the defendant since the day just preceding the incident at the cemetery.
"Nobody seemed to know where the defendant was. Quentin de Beers’s car was missing. I sent out bulletins on the car and on the defendant. The defendant was picked up by Las Vegas police while trying to play a slot machine on September second. He waived his right to counsel in Nevada and waived an extradition hearing. He was transferred into the custody of the County of El Dorado on a warrant of arrest."
"All right, Sergeant, thank you very much. I have no further questions."
"Mrs. Reilly?"
Nina looked up from her notes and said, "No questions at this time."
Clearly pleased that she was passing, Judge Amagosian gave both Balsam and Nina a big smile and said, "Well, then, Officer, I think you may go."
Paul passed a note to Nina that said You are now officially rehabilitated. Nina scrawled at the bottom, for both Paul and Jason’s benefit, The next guy is ours.
"Call Deputy Daniel Beatty," Collier said, and as Suntan Beatty uncurled from his chair next to Collier and strode up to the witness stand, Nina glanced over the notes she had made from Balsam’s testimony, and wrote rapidly: "1. Footprints and trampling. One large man. 2. Two parallel drag marks of bodies to driveway. 3. Quentin’s blood on shovel handle. 4. Jason’s fingerprints on shovel handle."
All that raw material came down to so few physical facts. She shuffled and reshuffled them in her mind, then set them out one by one without the obvious linkages, and waited like the rest of them for the next witness to unfold the rest of the story.
26
"STATE YOUR FULL NAME AND OCCUPATION FOR the record," Collier said.
"Daniel Allen Beatty. Deputy sheriff assigned to the Placerville Station of the El Dorado County sheriff’s oflice."
Collier
elicited over the next few minutes that Suntan had received special training in investigation of crime scenes over his twelve years with the sheriff’s office and that he was an arson specialist. Suntan had a low-key, ingratiating look. He was very young-looking, with deep-set eyes, a sharp jaw, and white teeth when he smiled, which was frequently. When he wasn’t sailing on Lake Tahoe he was running Iron Man triathlons in Hawaii. According to Paul, he had dated every good-looking woman at the sheriff’s office and somehow managed to keep them all happy.
He might be a great runner, but Paul had told Nina he was an uninspired, plodding investigator. His involvement was another good reason to rush the preliminary hearing. Suntan had been greatly stressed preparing any report of his investigation at all in the short time frame. Nina had received her copy only on Saturday, and recognized it as her favorite kind of police report, a sloppy job.
Now she listened with strained attention to every word, her mind searching for gaps and errors. Suntan had come to the fire.
"Two thirty-five A.M., a 911 call was received from a pay station at the Wright’s Lake camp. A woman. We tape all 911’s, so we have it." Nina’s silk blouse stuck to her underarms as sweat surged from every pore. How in the world could she have overlooked the fact that she would be examining an officer who had listened to her voice on the phone over and over?
"Did the caller identify herself?"
"She hung up before the dispatcher could find out who she was. The caller was very excited. I have the tape with me. Or I can just read a transcript."
Collier started to say, "Well, let’s go ahead and hear the—"
"As the court stated," Nina interrupted, "the Best Evidence Rule doesn’t apply. There’s no necessity here today to get all that equipment going, and—"
"It’s really no problem," Suntan said, looking at her with a gleam that could mean something very bad for Nina or might just reveal a Boy Scout excitement over his preparations. He whipped out a retro-style tape player in red plastic. "It’s already loaded up," he said.
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