Hounded (26 page)

“And you said?”

“That there was no evidence of that. I qualified it by adding that certain naturally occurring chemicals, taken in combination, could induce an attack of this kind, but that they would have dissipated long before the autopsy took place.”

Richard renews his objection, but Judge Matthews overrules him again, though I think her patience is wearing thin. At some point she is going to stop me, but the more I can get on the record, the better.

“And did I ask you to analyze two other autopsies, ones that you had not conducted yourself?”

She agrees that I did, and goes on to describe the cases, and her acquisition and analysis of the autopsies.

“Were they deemed to have been heart attacks as well, with no evidence of foul play?”

“Yes, although there were certain levels of chemicals consistent with the Hambler case.”

“Enough to cause you to believe them to be murders?”

“No, I wouldn’t go that far,” she says.

Richard is up again. “Your Honor, I must object again as to relevance. Mr. Carpenter needs to explain what three heart attack deaths, all ruled to have been natural and not the result of foul play, have to do with the shooting death of Danny Diaz.”

“I’ll see lead counsel in my chambers,” the judge says. “The jury will retire to the jury room.”

As I get up, Pete touches my arm and leans over. “Try not to screw this up.”

I smile. “It feels good to be so respected.”

Once we’re back in chambers, Judge Matthews says to me, “Okay, Mr. Carpenter, what are you doing?”

“I am establishing reasonable doubt, Your Honor, by pointing to other people who are more likely to have killed Mr. Diaz than Captain Stanton.”

Richard is obviously annoyed by my actions, which at this point is pretty much too bad for Richard. I like him, but I like the idea of keeping Pete out of prison considerably more.

“What is Chief Carnow going to testify to next? That other dead people were not murdered either? Or are you going to argue that Danny Diaz died of natural causes like everyone else, and that the bullet had nothing to do with it?”

I ignore Richard, because I don’t want to be drawn into a one-on-one argument with him; my audience right now is only Judge Matthews. “Your Honor, there has been a conspiracy to commit murder. I know of seven people who have died already, including Danny Diaz. But I need witnesses to tell the story, and they and I will make the connection to this case. I just need you to give me a little latitude.”

“It is reasonable to require an offer of proof,” Richard says.

I shake my head. “This is an unfolding conspiracy, Your Honor. Just this weekend, one of my key witnesses was killed.”

“Who was that?” Richard asks.

“Mitchell Blackman, CEO of Blaine Pharmaceuticals.” I’m sure Richard read about Blackman’s death in yesterday’s paper, and the judge probably did as well. Neither of them have any idea how it ties into this case, but it really wouldn’t matter if they did.

I continue, “The point is, I need to present my case in the best way I can. I can vouch to the court that it will be obviously relevant to the Diaz murder, and all of my witnesses will be respected, credible people. Captain Stanton was considered a danger to the conspirators, and they acted to put him out of commission.

“But if you find that it is not relevant, Judge, then you can so rule, and you can direct the jury to disregard the entire defense case. That would be within your discretion.”

I have an advantage here, and though judges would never admit it, it is one that the defense in a case of this magnitude almost always enjoys. And that has to do with a judge’s natural dislike of being overturned on appeal.

If a defendant is acquitted, the prosecution cannot appeal; the case is over in all but the rarest of instances. But if a defendant is convicted, then the defense can appeal to their heart’s content. Therefore, a judge is inclined to give extra latitude to the defense, so as to limit his or her chance of being overturned by the appeals court.

Additionally, since the penalty for conviction in cases of this type is so severe, judges generally want to bend over backward to give the defendant, if not the benefit of the doubt, then an unquestionably fair shake.

For all of these reasons, I’m hopeful if not confident that Judge Matthews will rule in our favor. To cut off the defense case as it is just beginning would be a dramatic and dangerous move.

And for once I’m right. Judge Matthews says, “I’m going to allow it on a witness-by-witness basis, but I am not giving you carte blanche, Mr. Carpenter. You need to quickly establish relevance; I can’t have the jury confused and thinking they walked in on the wrong movie.”

Richard gets it on the record that he renewed his objection, but the boat has sailed.

We head back into court, and I conclude with Janet Carlson. She won’t give me an opinion that the cases we’re talking about were murders, but she helps me get the deaths on the record for the jury to hear.

Richard’s cross-examination is quick and to the point. “Dr. Carlson, is it your professional opinion that the three people Mr. Carpenter asked you about died of natural causes?”

“Yes.”

“And what was the cause of Mr. Diaz’s death?”

“A gunshot wound.”

“Thank you. No further questions.”

Chief Carnow jumped at the chance to testify for us.

He had been unhappy at being part of the prosecution’s case against Pete, but obviously felt an obligation to tell the truth. He’s still going to tell the truth, but it’ll be our truth this time.

I start out by having him talk about what a terrific cop Pete has been throughout his career. In the process, he refers to Pete as a “valued right hand.” This is not a guy who bails out on his friends.

“In the space of seven years, is it accurate that he has been promoted from detective, to lieutenant, and then to captain?”

“That’s correct,” he says.

“Is that unusual in any way?”

“Absolutely. It is rare that someone advances that fast,” he says.

I take him to one month before the Diaz murder, and ask him if Pete came in to see him about a case. He says that he did, that “he was becoming convinced that a series of deaths he was looking at were murders, even though they did not appear to be.”

“Were you skeptical of his point of view?”

“I was, but I have learned to trust Captain Stanton’s judgment.”

“What was he asking you to do?”

“To assign manpower to work with him, to try and learn if there were other deaths that might fit the pattern.”

“Would you describe him as determined?” I ask.

“Captain Stanton was always determined.”

Carnow goes on to say that manpower was particularly limited at that point, but that he was reassigning personnel to work with Pete, within limits. “Much of it was out of our jurisdiction,” Carnow says. “But Captain Stanton was breaking down those walls.”

“Did the arrest of Captain Stanton put an end to the investigation?”

“In terms of our department, yes. But the state police were working on it.”

I turn him over to Richard, who once again comes right to the point. “Chief Carnow, did we talk about this case before you testified for the prosecution?”

He nods. “We did.”

“Did you mention anything about these other deaths as possibly being relevant to this case?”

“No.”

“Did you hold that view, but for some reason decided not to mention it?”

“No.”

“Thank you.”

I’m not good at reading juries; I’m not sure anyone is. You see pundits talking about whether juries took notes, or looked at the defendant, or seemed particularly attentive, as a way to determine which way they were leaning.

I’ve never bought into that, and I’ve never seen any correlation between any of that subtle conduct and the ultimate verdicts. But if I was into reading juries, I would have to say I am not thrilled with the story this jury is telling.

I expected them to be confused, and unsure where we were going with this. But they also seem to be less attentive, maybe even tuning out, as the case drags on.

During the lunch hour, I discuss my concerns with Pete and Hike. “I think we’re losing them,” Pete says, even before I state my view.

“Losing them? We’re losing me,” Hike says. “We’re talking about rich people dying of heart attacks, and they don’t see what this has to do with Danny Diaz lying in his living room with a hole blown into his chest.”

We kick it around some more, but the view is unanimous.

We need to step up the pace.

Jane Michael thought she was off the hook.

She is the phone company employee who put together the phone records of Reynolds, Parker, and Danny Diaz, in response to our subpoena. She was performing work legally that Sam had already done illegally, but of course we couldn’t tell anyone that.

When she originally brought the records in, both sides stipulated as to their legitimacy, and she didn’t have to take the stand. She confessed to me that she was relieved, that public speaking was not her thing, especially in a situation of this importance.

So she was less than thrilled when I called her to tell her we would be calling her as a key witness, to testify at length and in detail about the records. I sent Hike to spend a few hours with her, to go over specifics about what we’d be asking her.

When I called her afterward to ask her how it went, she said, “Mr. Lynch seemed pretty worried.”

“Mr. Lynch is always worried,” I said. “It worries him not to have anything to worry about. Are you comfortable that you know the answers to the questions we have?”

“I am. It’s all in the records.”

“Exactly. We just want you to tell the truth. You’ll be there because the records can’t talk themselves, and they need explanation.”

I’m worried that her nervousness will make her appear unsure and indecisive, but that’s not what I see as she takes the stand. I see a composed and confident woman. She has no stake in the outcome; she is simply here to present the facts, and to represent her company and herself well.

My problem is that there is a lot of detail here, but I need to move through it quickly. If I don’t, I’ll start to see jurors’ eyes close, and heads nod. To assist in the demonstration, I had Sam prepare the records on slides, which we project side by side on a large screen that we set up in the courtroom.

I have Michael verify them as the records of Reynolds, Diaz, and the man we identify as Alex Parker. Coble will cement that identification when he testifies, but for now it’s only important that the jurors see him as a bad guy; his name doesn’t matter.

But I have to take some time to set it up, especially the GPS portion. Not many people know that their cell phones contain the GPS signals, and based on the biographies they filled out during jury selection, this group of twelve does not represent the cream of the technology crop.

I can see the surprise in most of their faces as they learn about it; one woman even seems to look up, as if hoping to see the satellite that is keeping tabs on her.

Once that is out of the way, I have Michael focus on the connection between the three phones. The key fact is that both Diaz and Reynolds were in touch with Parker. Also significant is that both Diaz and Parker were in touch during the same period of time with Wally Reese, who was holding the ill-fated Juanita Diaz hostage.

Next I move to the GPS data, which is at least as important. I direct Michael to the day that Diaz was killed, and the fact that the cell phones of both Diaz and Reynolds were in the same place that morning. “What is located at that address?”

“That is Captain Stanton’s house,” she says, and maybe it’s my imagination, but the jurors seem to sit up a little straighter.

“Are you saying that Danny Diaz and Alex Parker were both at Captain Stanton’s house that morning?”

Michael shakes her head. “No. I’m saying their cell phones were there.”

“You’re certain of that?”

“Yes.”

“Could one person have been carrying both phones?”

“I don’t see why not,” she says.

There are a lot of facts that I wish I could tie together now, but Michael is not the person to make that happen. For example, I wish I could remind the jurors that Diaz once stayed at Pete’s house, and likely had a key. Hopefully I’ll be able to get those things in through Coble; if not, it will have to wait for my summation.

Next I have Michael talk through how Alex Parker’s phone was at Blaine Pharmaceuticals the day that Daniel Mathis went missing. The jurors don’t know who Mathis is yet, but they’re about to find out.

Richard’s cross-examination focuses mostly on the technology—for example, questioning how exact the GPS data can be. Michael cannot say that it is completely precise; there is always the chance that the cell phones were not at Pete’s house, but at the house next door.

He can’t get into the meaning of it all, because that wasn’t her job, and we didn’t talk about it on direct examination.

That is for others to do, and they’re about to.

Sharon Dalton is raring to go.

Unlike Jane Michael, who would rather have been anywhere else on the planet than on the witness stand, Sharon Dalton has been waiting a very long time to tell her story. She is going to be the voice of Daniel Mathis, and she is going to yell as loud as she can.

“Daniel is a wonderful man,” Sharon says on the stand. “Smart, and funny, and caring. That’s what his work was all about. Caring.”

“Did he discuss with you the project he was working on in the months before his disappearance?”

“Yes, many times.” She goes on to describe his work on the euthanasia drug in some detail. The portrait she paints is of a guy whose total dedication was to prevent the suffering of animals. It sounds good, and I’d like to believe it, but I have no idea if that was true. He could have just been doing his job, which wouldn’t make him a bad person, either.

I lead her into telling the court about the theft of the pills, and the torment Daniel suffered over it. “Mr. Blackman kept telling him not to talk about it, that it would be bad for the business, and that they were probably just misplaced. But Daniel knew better.”