by Mandy Wiener
Taylor also has a response to Oscar’s claim that she had created a fake profile on Twitter to attack Reeva. ‘In court Oscar made a comment about me creating a fake profile on Twitter to say nasty things to Reeva, which made her feel insecure. Again I would like them to show me proof and provide a track record. Any comments I have made in the past have come from my own account. We have managed to track the main member of “Pistorians” down, but took no further action on her as she doesn’t seem to be any type of threat to me,’ says Taylor, referring to the group on Twitter who rabidly defend the athlete.
Taylor wasn’t entirely surprised by Oscar’s emotional outbursts while on the stand. ‘He is a very emotional person. I know when we used to fight, he used to cry all the time, but I think he played his role quite well, you know, when there’s something sad, you’re sad and when there’s something that’s good for you then you’re okay with it.’
Once she had heard Oscar’s testimony on the stand, Taylor revealed in an interview more about her take on the room and the events of that night. Does she believe it could be plausible? That the events could possibly have occurred as he stated?
There were many things that didn’t make sense to me … Because I’ve been in that house for … you know, I was there a lot. The one thing I know that to have gone to the bathroom … often Oscar, while he was in training season, he would leave the curtain open a little bit because the natural sunlight came in at five o’clock in the morning which meant that we had to get up and go to train, so I don’t know if he was training at the time, I don’t know if his curtain would’ve been lightly open, but he often did keep his curtain slightly open so I know there was some sort of light coming in at three o’clock in the morning. The bathroom was definitely very dark, because that was a whole different side of the bedroom. There’s a wall and there’s … a long passageway and the passageway is very dark, so to be in the bathroom you needed to have put the light on to go to the loo or to at least see what you are doing. I know that if Reeva had gone to the bathroom, she would’ve put the light on because I definitely wouldn’t go to the bathroom and leave the light off. If the cubicle light was broken, I definitely wouldn’t close the door, especially at my boyfriend’s house at three o’clock in the morning. I would … I don’t know, I find that kind of weird. I definitely wouldn’t close the door, especially if it’s not even connected to the bedroom. The bathroom and toilet are separate to the bedroom, so I don’t know … It definitely didn’t make sense to me. I don’t know why someone would lock the door even if they are at their boyfriend’s house.
Oscar’s denials continued as he faced a quizzing on ‘Count 3’, the Tashas accidental discharge. Oscar recalled, as Lerena and Fresco had earlier, the lunchtime meeting at the restaurant to discuss the boxer’s diet, as well as the athlete’s eagerness to purchase a new firearm similar to Fresco’s.
‘It was stupid of me,’ he acknowledged, ‘and I asked if I can see his firearm.’ Oscar did not dispute that he asked to see Fresco’s gun, nor that he had handled it under the table in the busy eatery. He said he wanted to make sure that the weapon was safe – that it did not have a round in the chamber – and in the process of sliding the mechanism back he said a bullet was ejected from the weapon.
‘… And the next thing I knew, a round went off.’
Oscar said he was angry at Fresco for passing him a loaded weapon that had a magazine in it, but was also relieved that no one had been hurt. He quickly returned the firearm to its owner under the table.
But, contrary to previous witness testimony, Oscar said it was Fresco who volunteered to take responsibility for the shooting by explaining that if anyone should ask, his firearm had accidentally gone off because it had fallen on the floor.
‘I believed at that point that we both were to blame – I made a mistake for asking for a firearm in a restaurant and he made a mistake of giving me a firearm which was loaded and carrying one up. He told me not to say anything,’ said Oscar, while conceding that he was concerned about the implications of news about the incident reaching the media.
The athlete said while Fresco told restaurant owner Loupis the fabricated story about the handgun being caught on his pants, he then owned up and told him that it was his fault before offering to pay for the damages and settling the bill.
For Nel, though, this was not responsibility enough. During cross-examination, he pushed the line he had followed throughout the process – that Oscar never believed he was responsible for anything and always shirked guilt.
‘Talking about faults and taking responsibility, let us deal with the Tashas incident. Can you please explain to me why you pleaded not guilty,’ asked Nel.
Oscar said he did so because he did not discharge the firearm. He was adamant.
‘I physically did not discharge the firearm, My Lady, the firearm went off when it was in my possession but I did not have my finger … and I do not remember having my finger on the trigger,’ he said.
The main attack on Oscar’s defence in this regard was Mangena’s testimony about the Glock’s safety mechanism – that it is impossible for the Glock to discharge without someone actively pulling the trigger. Roux did not challenge Mangena on his evidence and the defence’s ballistic expert Wollie Wolmarans would not contest it either. ‘Then will you not accept that your finger was on the trigger, because that gun cannot discharge if your finger was not on the trigger,’ said Nel, but the accused would not accept the proposition.
If it was always Oscar’s version that his finger was not on the trigger when the firearm went off, why did his senior counsel not question the expert witness about this? The accused could certainly not explain it. ‘If Mr Roux did not put that question to Mr Mangena, My Lady, then I am sure he has got a good reason for not doing so,’ said Oscar. He was shifting responsibility to his legal team – but this was not the first or last time they were ‘thrown under the bus’ during cross-examination.
Nel, however, refused to accept the explanation; he knew Roux too well. The advocates had been adversaries for years and the prosecutor was sure that the senior counsel would not have slipped up like this. Nel told the court he believed Roux would never make such a mistake, and rather the reason he hadn’t challenged Mangena was because it was never Oscar’s version.
Nel: Let us look at it. You had it in your hand. Am I right?
Accused: That is correct, My Lady.
Nel: You ejected the one bullet.
Accused: That is correct, My Lady.
Nel: Nobody else touched that gun.
Accused: That is correct, My Lady.
Nel: But a shot went off.
Accused: That is correct, My Lady.
Nel: If that firearm is incapable of firing a shot without somebody pulling the trigger, who pulled the trigger?
Accused: I am not sure, My Lady, what I am saying is that I did not have my finger on the trigger.
It was Nel’s relentless questioning on this that eventually pushed the accused to make the admission that the state needed. ‘The firearm went off whilst it was in my possession, I take responsibility for the firearm going off when it was in my possession,’ Oscar told the court, ‘but I cannot say my finger was on the trigger when it was not on the trigger.’
Oscar explained as he was clearing the firearm the shot went off and ‘I didn’t have time to think’. This was the exact phrase he had used a day earlier when Nel was asking him about the four shots he fired through the door when he shot Reeva after claiming to have heard a noise. It’s a phrase he’d repeat numerous times throughout his cross-examination.
‘I did not have time to think,’ said Nel, dismissively, antagonising the accused. ‘We had that yesterday as well. So that is one of your defences. “I did not have time to think. I am a gun enthusiast, I did not have time to think.”’
The fourth firearm-related charge was as a result of ammunition found in Oscar’s safe on the morning of the shooting. When investigators started sifting through Osc
ar’s house and cataloguing the evidence they came across a beige electronic safe, similar to those found in hotel rooms, in his bedroom cupboard. It was hidden behind a neatly stacked pile of T-shirts and in it Oscar stored medals from the Paralympic Games in 2004 (Athens), 2008 (Beijing) and 2012 (London), as well as a krugerrand amongst other items. Also in the safe was a blue box of 50 pmp, 158-grain .38 Special rounds. Oscar said he understood the charge, but he had never owned a .38 calibre firearm nor had he ever purchased .38 calibre ammunition.
‘That ammunition was my father’s for a firearm that he had registered or has registered in his name and he simply had it at my house for safekeeping. It was not mine, it was not in my possession. My understanding of the law is, you are allowed to give your ammunition to somebody for safekeeping. It does not have to be in your safe,’ he said.
Oscar told Nel that he had two safes in his house: one downstairs to which he had sole access and a safe in his bedroom, which several people had access to via a combination lock. The prosecutor first took issue with the fact that Oscar claimed to keep ammunition in a safe to which several people had access, but he said he didn’t keep his own ammunition there – he had a spare magazine in his bedside table and kept his firearm-cleaning kit in the safe downstairs.
Oscar testified that his father had asked if he could keep his ammunition in the upstairs safe, and that Henke had placed it in the safe on his own when his son was not there. Oscar could not say when it was placed there, only that it had been in the safe for quite some time.
Then Nel played what he thought to be his trump card. Henke Pistorius had refused to make a statement admitting that the ammunition in the safe was his. The assumption was that this was because of a breakdown in their relationship that saw Henke effectively ostracised from the Pistorius family. The accused, however, was unaware of his father’s refusal to assist. ‘My father and I have not had communication between the two of us, for many years. I have spoken to him, but there has not been a relationship,’ admitted Oscar. ‘He would sometimes come up to Pretoria or Johannesburg. He asked me if he could keep the ammunition in my safe. I said that he is more than welcome to and I let him do so.’
Nel then turned to Oscar’s firearm competency tests in which he correctly answered that you may possess a particular type of ammunition only if you have a licence for that particular firearm or you are a firearm dealer. Oscar said that after consulting with Roux about his understanding of the law, the advocate confirmed his thoughts on it.
‘No, it cannot be. Mr Roux would not do that,’ said Nel, frustrated at the explanation. Again, Oscar was sacrificing the reputation of his defence counsel in order to save himself. ‘Mr Roux would not have said to you, that it is in order for you to keep your father’s ammunition in your safe. He would not have done that. I put it to you,’ said Nel.
For Nel, this was another example of the accused not willing to take responsibility – why else would he not plead guilty to such a blatantly obvious transgression of the law? But Oscar continued to claim that while it was in his safe, he was technically not in possession of the ammunition.
Nel questioned the accused on why he kept a spare magazine in his bedside drawer, and – once again – his understanding of the law. After first admitting that he left the magazine in his bedside drawer at all times, Oscar said that he in fact put it in the safe whenever he left the house. ‘At times I carry that extra magazine with me. At times I put it in my bedside table. If I went away, I locked it in my safe,’ he said. But then less than a minute later he added: ‘I am sure there was a couple of occasions that I forgot to lock it away, M’Lady. I cannot say and I cannot stand here and lie. There would have been occasions, but this is not related to the charge of the .38 ammunition in the safe.’
But it was indeed relevant for Nel as he attempted to show the court that the accused was a negligent firearm owner.
Besides Oscar’s evidence disputing the testimony of his former friends and girlfriend related to the firearm charges, the defence team led no further evidence related to these charges. This came as a surprise to many.
Ballistics expert Wollie Wolmarans – Mangena’s equivalent on the defence team – did not challenge the police witness’s testimony about the Glock’s safety mechanism; neither did he suggest possibilities and case studies showing how this particular firearm could go off without the trigger being pulled. He also did not testify about the laws related to ammunition being stored in order to confirm his client’s understanding of the legislation.
On the two shooting incidents, all the court had to go on from the defence’s side was Oscar’s version. Nothing more. Either the defence thought that Oscar’s version was sufficient to stand up to scrutiny or they had accepted a guilty ruling on these additional charges. The risks were high.
The Secrets of the Missing Apple
Captain Francois Moller’s job as a cellphone analyst for the South African Police Service (SAPS) is to look backwards and connect the dots, primarily those that have left an elaborate trail on Steve Jobs’s creations. Moller is stationed at the Technological Investigation Support Centre at the head office of Detective Services under commanding officer Colonel Mike Sales.
Moller’s friendliness and jolly demeanour are underlined by his genuine smile. His apparent lack of jadedness and cynicism, which so often characterise career policemen, belies his credentials and experience as a cop. He spent five years in the early 2000s at the murder and robbery unit in Pretoria until it was shut down by then Police Commissioner Jackie Selebi. Moller then spent several months at the provincial head office assisting detectives with high-profile cases such as the kidnapping and murder of Sheldean Human before getting a promotion to the high-tech unit under now-retired Major-General Sharon Schutte. He was then moved to the specialist police unit, the Hawks, officially referred to as the DPCI (Directorate for Priority Crime Investigation).
Moller has regularly testified in high-profile court matters for which he analyses phone records to assist with the prosecution. Some of these cases include the Chanelle Henning murder, the Griekwastad family killings and the shooting of boxer Corrie Sanders.
In the trial of two men accused (and later convicted) of murdering young mother Chanelle Henning, Moller was responsible for a first in South African courts: he used Geotag data retrieved from the photos of one of the accused’s BlackBerry handsets to analyse his movements during the planning stages of the murder. Moller plotted this movement on Google Maps and during his testimony in court would switch to Street View to show the judge key locations in respect of crime scene photos. The judge acknowledged the policeman’s good work in his ruling.
Moller and Mike Sales were responsible for analysing the cellphones, iPads and computers belonging to Oscar and Reeva that were on the scene of the shooting. All in all, these included three iPhones, two BlackBerries, two iPads and one MacBook computer. The devices and their contents featured prominently in the investigation and court case and have to a large degree been shrouded in intrigue. They fuelled public speculation as to a motive for a potential murder and many believed in the run-up to the trial that the answer to the question of what might have led to a possible argument in the dead of night lay in the data and text on the cellphones.
Did Reeva receive a text message from an ex-boyfriend that sent Oscar into a blind rage? Or perhaps Oscar was surfing porn and Reeva stumbled upon this, sparking a fierce fight?
But it was not only the devices and their contents that were the focus of attention and the subject of scrutiny. Rather, it was the attempts, which were fraught with difficulties and became increasingly desperate, by Moller and Sales to gain access to these handsets that were particularly intriguing. Their endeavours even led them to Apple’s headquarters in California in a mad scramble as the trial was already underway.
On the morning of Valentine’s Day 2013, police officers at Oscar’s home, led by investigating officer Hilton Botha, seized several devices in the house bar one iPhone 5. Ree
va’s black, scratched iPhone 4S with a metallic cover and dried blood specks on the front and back was found on the tiles in the bathroom, partially obscured by the charcoal bathmat, near a pool of blood and just centimetres from Oscar’s silver 9 mm firearm. The athlete’s white iPhone 5 was also discovered in the bathroom on the bloody tiles face up next to a smear of red. Two BlackBerries, which had not been used for several months, were stacked in the bedroom near the amplifier while his and her iPads were found on the carpet next to the bed, closest to the sliding door leading on to the balcony.
Botha handed the phones to Moller who had the responsibility of analysing the contents. All he had was the PIN code for Reeva’s phone and he did not know the PIN for Oscar’s phone, nor the numbers for either line. Early on the morning of the shooting Reeva’s friend Samantha Greyvenstein had given Botha the PIN code for the phone in order for him to find a number for her next of kin.
Samantha keyed in the PIN code and Botha called Reeva’s mother. But he neglected to write down the PIN and so later that afternoon, when Kim Myers and her father and brother arrived at the house, he asked them for the code. Once Kim had phoned Samantha to get the password, Botha took the phone from the bag of evidence and allowed Kim to charge it in her brother’s car. Together with the investigating officer, Kim and her brother checked Reeva’s last messages before Botha took the phone back into evidence. He later gave the code to Moller so that he could access the device.
