Talon Winter Legal Thrillers Box Set

by Stephen Penner

  “How are you employed, sir?” Cecilia continued.

  “I am a police officer,” was the answer. Again, more a statement of identity than occupation.

  “How long have you been a police officer?”

  “Fourteen years,” Dickerson answered. “All of it as a patrol officer. I have never sought promotion or advancement.”

  Talon already didn’t like Dickerson. She hoped the jurors were starting to feel the same way.

  “Officer Dickerson,” Cecilia moved ahead, “were you involved in an incident that took place at the Cash-Town U.S.A. store on South Thirty-Eighth Street in Tacoma?”

  “Yes, I was.”

  “How did you come to be involved in that incident?” Cecilia asked.

  “A priority one call came out over dispatch,” Dickerson explained. He didn’t turn to deliver his answers to the jury like he would have been trained to do at the academy. Instead, he kept an almost disconcerting focus on Cecilia as he answered her questions. “That means every officer is supposed to stop whatever he’s doing and respond to the call address. I was about to pull some guy over for speeding, but I had to let him go. His lucky day, I guess.”

  Dickerson actually laughed at his little joke. Talon wondered if maybe no one had told him he’d killed two people.

  “How long did it take you to get to the incident address?” Cecilia continued.

  “Two minutes, maybe three,” Dickerson answered. “I drove top speed and was the first officer to arrive.”

  “Did any other officers arrive right after you?”

  “Yeah, Officer McCarthy pulled into the parking lot behind me,” Dickerson said. “He and I were the first two on scene.”

  “Did you wait for additional officers to arrive before taking any further action?”

  “No, ma’am,” Dickerson seemed proud to answer.

  “Why not?”

  “Time was of the essence,” Dickerson said. “It was a priority one call. That meant lives were at risk. Two officers were enough. We needed to move before the subject barricaded himself inside or started taking hostages.”

  “So, what did you do?” Cecilia asked next.

  “Officer McCarthy and I took up positions on opposite sides of the main entrance. If we’d had more officers, some of them would have gone around to secure the back entrance, but there was no time. Officer McCarthy and I burst into the store, weapons at the ready.”

  “Weapon,” Cecilia repeated. “That means firearm, right?”

  “Yes,” Dickerson confirmed. “I held my weapon at the low ready before entering the store. When we entered, I immediately located the suspect and trained my weapon at his chest.”

  “Where was the suspect standing?”

  “He was approximately halfway to the rear entrance,” Dickerson said, “so I ordered McCarthy to go around behind him and cut off that escape route.”

  “Ordered?” Cecilia questioned.

  “Told,” Dickerson corrected himself with a slight roll of the eyes. “It was a rapidly evolving situation. Anything could have happened. Someone needed to take charge.”

  “And that was you?” Cecilia ventured.

  “Yes,” Dickerson was obviously pleased to say. “You can’t let the suspect be in charge. They already have several advantages. They started it, they could bunker down, they could take hostages, and they’re desperate. They don’t play by the rules. You have to establish dominance immediately.”

  “And did that work?” Cecilia asked. “Establishing dominance?”

  Dickerson took a moment before answering. “I would say no.”

  “Why not?”

  “I ordered the suspect to get on the ground, but he refused to follow my commands,” Dickerson explained. “I ordered him to show me his hands, but he also refused that command. That became an issue.”

  “How so?” Cecilia asked.

  “If he had just shown us his hands and put them over his head as commanded, we would have been able to confirm he wasn’t a threat,” Dickerson answered. “But he refused, so we had to assume he was still a threat.”

  “So, what happened next?” Cecilia continued.

  “Officer McCarthy was circling around behind the suspect,” Dickerson said, “and I continued to give commands to the suspect to show his hands and get on the ground. But the suspect continued to ignore my commands.”

  “Did you believe the suspect was armed with a firearm?” Cecilia asked.

  “We had to assume he was,” Dickerson said. “The report was armed robbery. He wouldn’t show us his hands. So, yes, ma’am, we had every reason to believe he was armed.”

  “What happened next?”

  “It all happened very fast,” Dickerson answered. “I had my weapon trained on the suspect. Officer McCarthy was taking up a position behind him to cut off a possible escape route out the back door. The suspect suddenly raised his hands, pushing them out and toward me. Officer McCarthy called out, ‘Gun! Gun!’ So, I returned fire. The suspect must have flinched because my first volley missed, but I succeeded in striking the subject with a second volley. Unfortunately, because the suspect moved when Officer McCarthy yelled, ‘Gun!’, my first shots missed the suspect and struck Officer McCarthy.”

  Dickerson showed absolutely no remorse for killing McCarthy. Talon knew he wouldn’t care about killing Miguel, but she expected some regret at downing a fellow officer.

  “Did the suspect actually have a gun?” Cecilia asked.

  “I believe he did, yes,” Dickerson answered. “But after shots were fired, I held position until other officers arrived. When they did, I exited the building and didn’t interact again with the body of the suspect.”

  And that was it. ‘Hi, I’m Officer Todd and I kill people,’ Talon thought ruefully.

  “Thank you, Officer Dickerson,” Cecilia concluded her examination. “No further questions.”

  “Cross examination?” Judge Kirshner invited.

  Talon nodded and stood up. Of course she was going to cross examine the person who actually committed the acts her client was charged with. But she took her time before starting. She wanted to size him up for a few moments longer. It was her first time questioning him, despite her best efforts. After just enough time for it to get awkward, she was ready.

  “Returned fire?” she began. “But he never fired at you.”

  “I don’t know that,” Dickerson responded quickly.

  “You don’t know,” Talon’s eyebrows shot up, “whether he fired a gun at you?”

  “No, ma’am,” Dickerson answered confidently. “I don’t remember him firing at me, but in moments of high stress, it’s possible not to notice everything that happens. You can get tunnel vision and only be able to focus on the one life-or-death thing you’re doing. In that moment, one hundred percent of my attention was focused on firing my own weapon.”

  “So focused you missed and shot your partner,” Talon pointed out.

  “The suspect moved before I could fire,” Dickerson responded.

  “I thought your gun was trained on his chest?” Talon questioned.

  “It was.”

  “How did you miss?”

  “People miss all the time, ma’am,” Dickerson said. “It’s not a stationary target like at a firing range. Also, I don’t even know for sure it was my shots that killed Officer McCarthy. I don’t know for sure that the suspect didn’t shoot first. Maybe at Officer McCarthy. Maybe that’s why he yelled, ‘Gun!’”

  Talon took a moment to just stare at Dickerson. “Really?”

  “I don’t know, ma’am,” Dickerson repeated. “I’m not a ballistics matching expert. I know the suspect presented a fatal threat and I know I neutralized that threat.”

  Talon thought for a moment. “Well, I mean, if the suspect—if Miguel actually had a gun and he actually fired shots at you or Officer McCarthy, those bullets would have been recovered later by the forensics officers, right? Maybe dig a bullet out of a wall or something?”

  Befo
re Dickerson could say ‘I don’t know, ma’am’ again, Cecilia stood up. “Objection. Calls for speculation.”

  Talon spun and glared at Cecilia. Are you fucking kidding me?

  “I’m going to sustain the objection,” Judge Kirshner ruled without asking for Talon’s input. “If this witness didn’t participate in evidence collection, then you should end this line of questioning.”

  Talon offered a tight smile and an even tighter nod. “That’s fine, Your Honor. I definitely have another line of questioning.”

  Talon took a moment to gather herself, then stepped closer to Dickerson. “You’ve been a police officer for fourteen years, is that right?”

  “That’s right,” Dickerson confirmed.

  “And the last thirteen years have been with Tacoma P.D., right?”

  “Correct.”

  “Your prior job was with the Birchwood Police Department, up in the foothills near Mount Rainier, correct?”

  Dickerson’s expression tightened. “That’s correct, ma’am.”

  “And the reason you had to leave the Birchwood Police Department,” Talon grinned as she struck, “was because of a sustained finding of excessive force against another young, unarmed, Hispanic male, isn’t that true?”

  Dickerson responded with a forceful “No!” at the exact same time that Cecilia yelled, “Objection!” and Judge Kirshner called out, “Ms. Winter!”

  Talon couldn’t quite wipe the smile off her face. But Kirshner was anything but smiling.

  “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury,” she said, “the bailiff is going to escort you to the jury room while I discuss a matter with the attorneys.”

  “I’d like the witness to be excused as well,” Talon requested.

  Kirshner frowned, but then nodded at Dickerson. “Please wait in the hallway, Officer.”

  Dickerson complied and, in a few moments, both the jury and the witness were out of earshot.

  “What do you think you’re doing, Ms. Winter?” Judge Kirshner demanded.

  “Um, my job, Your Honor,” Talon answered. “This witness has a history of excessive violence against young Hispanic men. The jury is entitled to know that. In addition, he just committed perjury. He said there was no sustained finding of excessive force, but,” Talon pulled a set of papers out of her briefcase, “I have the internal affairs investigation right here. There was most definitely a sustained finding of excessive force.”

  “He said that wasn’t the reason he left,” Cecilia pointed out. “Your question was whether that was the reason he left, and he said no. He didn’t say there was no finding.”

  Talon’s smile finally faded a bit. Cecilia was right. “Well,” Talon said, “I can explore that more fully.”

  “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Ms. Winter,” Judge Kirshner warned. “I’ll decide whether you get to ask any more questions in this area. Ms. Thompson, I take it from your reaction that you were surprised by this information?”

  “Yes, Your Honor,” Cecilia confirmed. “This is the first I’ve heard of it.”

  “Ms. Winter,” Kirshner demanded, “did you provide this information to Ms. Winter in advance, as required by the court rules?”

  “I did not, Your Honor,” Talon admitted. “The court rules only require the defense to hand over information we actually intend to use at trial. I didn’t know for sure whether I was going to use this information until after Ms. Thompson finished her direct examination of Officer Dickerson. If he had admitted that his use of force was excessive and unreasonable and he was the one who caused Miguel Maldonado’s and Officer McCarthy’s deaths, then I would not have brought up the business at Birchwood P.D.”

  Kirshner stared at Talon for several moments. “Did you really think there was any possibility at all that Officer Dickerson would say any of that during his direct examination?”

  Talon shrugged. “A girl can hope.”

  “Your Honor, this is a huge discovery violation,” Cecilia complained. “I had no idea about any of this.”

  Talon shrugged at her. “It’s not my fault you didn’t look into the background of your star witness. Maybe you shouldn’t have tried so hard to keep me from finding things out about him. If you’d worked with me, we both could have known in advance.”

  “This isn’t Ms. Thompson’s fault,” Judge Kirshner interjected. “It’s yours. You should have disclosed this information prior to the witness taking the stand.”

  “Again, Your Honor, I didn’t know if I was going to use the information until after he took the stand,” Talon responded. “In case Your Honor has forgotten, you denied my motion to get a copy of Officer Dickerson’s personnel file. If you had granted it back then, we wouldn’t be where we are now.”

  It was never a good idea to piss off the judge. It was even worse when you were kind of right.

  “We are where we are now,” Judge Kirshner growled, “because you violated the discovery rules, Ms. Winter. You were the one who decided not to disclose this. You were the one who opted for the cheap theatrical moment rather than follow proper procedure. Even if I accept your argument that you didn’t know you were going to use it until after Officer Dickerson’s direct examination, you could have asked for a recess after the direct, and then provided the information to Ms. Thompson. I would have given her time to review it and we could have addressed any objections in advance.”

  “Objections you would have sustained,” Talon said, “thereby prohibiting me from asking about it at all.”

  “Don’t presume to know how I would have ruled, Ms. Winter,” Judge Kirshner warned. “But if I had ruled that way, it would have been for good reason and I would have expected you to abide by my ruling.”

  Talon opened her mouth to respond again, but Kirshner wasn’t having any more.

  “Just like you will abide by my ruling now,” the judge said. “You are prohibited from asking any more questions about this topic. Not one more question. I am suppressing the evidence on the basis of your failure to provide the information to Ms. Thompson before raising it in front of the jury.”

  Talon wasn’t completely surprised. She knew Kirshner was likely to suppress the information. That was why she hadn’t told anyone about it beforehand. But there was one little problem with how it had all played out.

  “I would ask for permission to clarify the last question and answer, Your Honor,” Talon requested. “I understood Officer Dickerson’s response to mean that there was no sustained finding of excessive force. Ms. Thompson understood it to mean there may have been such a finding but that wasn’t why he left Birchwood. I’d like to just clarify that and then I’ll be done with my cross examination.”

  “Ms. Winter,” Judge Kirchner drew the name out as she breathed it down at its owner, “I’m not sure whether to be impressed by your advocacy or offended that you think I would actually grant that request. Not only am I not going to allow you to ask any further questions on this topic, I am going to strike your question and answer and instruct the jury to disregard it completely.”

  Talon nodded. She wasn’t surprised by that either. But, as they say, you can’t unring a bell. “Understood, Your Honor.”

  Judge Kirchner looked to her bailiff. “Bring in the jury. Ms. Thompson, fetch your witness. Let’s get back on the record.

  Once the jury was in the box and Dickerson was on the stand, Judge Kirchner formally struck the last question and answer from the record and instructed the jury to disregard it. Which, Talon hoped, was kind of like highlighting it, underlining it, and drawing a big red circle around it.

  “Any further questions for this witness, Ms. Winter?” Judge Kirshner’s voice made clear what answer she wanted.’

  “No, Your Honor.” Talon threw a disgusted look at Officer Dickerson. “I’m finished with this witness.”

  Cecilia was smart enough to not ask any more questions either, lest she inadvertently open the door to that prior excessive force allegation after all.

  Thus ended Dickerson’s testimony. Talon
had drawn blood, but the judge had stepped in to wipe it off.

  Talon didn’t know what the jury would do with all that.

  CHAPTER 44

  After Dickerson, it was all downhill for Cecilia. Not brakes-cut, hurtling-toward-a-watery-death downhill, but downhill just the same. Talon returned to her limited, surgical questioning. She knew it was the most effective method, but she still worried the jury would think she just didn’t have that much to say.

  The next witness was the medical examiner. Nothing earthshaking. Both victims died of gunshot wounds. Miguel took a bullet to the heart. McCarthy took one to the carotid artery in his neck. Neither was survivable. None of that was really at issue. Talon just confirmed that all of the bullets removed from both Miguel and McCarthy were collected and sealed in evidence bags. But the medical examiner couldn’t say they were all from the same gun.

  That was for the ballistics expert to say. Which he did when he testified right after the medical examiner. That is, he confirmed the bullets were all fired from the same gun. But he couldn’t say exactly which gun. Which gave Talon a little something more to talk about on her cross examination.

  After Cecilia announced, “No further questions,” Talon stood up and approached the witness for her cross exam.

  “You say all of the bullets were fired from the same gun?” Talon began.

  “Yes, that’s right,” the ballistics expert answered. He was a short, squat man, dressed in a jacket that wasn’t quite tweed but still had elbow pads. His name was Ernest Pfleger, and he’d worked for the State Patrol Crime Lab for over thirty years, almost all of it squinting into a microscope to compare markings left on bullets as they traveled down gun barrels.

  “And how can you tell that again?” Talon asked, even if only to remind the jurors before Talon got to her real point.

  “Well, as I mentioned earlier,” Pfleger said, “bullets are softer than the barrel of the gun. Gun barrels have grooves cut into them which twist as they go down the barrel. Those grooves are called rifling and that’s what gives the bullet its spin, which allows it to cut through the air like a football. In order for that to work, the raised part of the twist, called the lands, presses against the bullet as it travels down the barrel, forcing it to twist and spin. Those lands aren’t perfectly smooth though. There are microscopic irregularities—bumps, if you will—that scratch the bullet as it travels down the barrel. These irregularities are just a byproduct of the manufacturing process and are unique to each firearm. That means the pattern of scratches left on the side of a bullet by a particular firearm will be the same for every other bullet fired from that firearm, but different from any bullet fired from a different firearm.”